#of being a victim of your circumstances at every turn
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kait-bait8 · 1 year ago
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The thing I love the most about the Hunger Games is Katniss’ character arc.
Katniss Everdeen in book 1 is like Harry Potter in book 7. That is to say, the Katniss we follow in THG is the strong and resilient fighter. She is brave and selfless and tough and she digs deep despite tremendous pain. She has already overcome the loss of her father and the dire circumstances of her youth. And the 74th Hunger Games should have been her boss fight.
The end of THG shows us a Katniss who is a champion, a winner, a Victor. It feels like we are at the triumphant end of a story. Until she is told that the Capitol is not happy.
In Catching Fire we learn about Katniss’ nightmares. We learn that she sometimes can’t look at Prim without seeing Rue. We see her relationships begin to strain and change.
Katniss finding out that she will be going back into the games is one of my all time favorite scenes. Because in THG Katniss is in Survival Mode from the second she steps onto the platform. She holds back her tears and tries to look indifferent for the sponsors. But in CF she shatters. She flees. She cries and drinks and screams. She isn’t strong or resilient or even a little brave. And you just don’t see heroes react like that in other stories. But you can’t tell me it’s possible to read that scene and not feel your own stomach twist at the thought of that reality.
When Peeta hits the barrier and his heart stops Katniss loses it. It’s clear she knows about CPR from watching her mother, the same way she knew about blood poisoning and tourniquets in the last games, but it doesn’t even occur to her until after Finnick starts kissing Peeta. She isn’t sharp and quick and able to think on her feet. She is desperate to keep Peeta and the rebellion alive and that is it. People say that the victors keep Peeta alive because “if they didn’t Katniss would kill everyone and then herself” but Katniss knew her fate. She knew she wasn’t going to survive the arena. And she knew a life without Peeta was pointless. She would have “stopped living” like her mother.
When Katniss is rescued and Peeta is not, there was no “what is the plan? How are we going to get Peeta back? How are we going to save him?” There was only enough energy and emotion to try to claw Haymitch’s eyes out.
And then we get to Mockingjay. I’ve heard people complain that they couldn’t get through the book because it was just Katniss sleeping all the time. But of course she is sleeping all the time. Of course she can hardly qualify to be a soldier. Of course she finds solace in Finnick and his rope tying.
She doesn’t assassinate President Snow on her rogue mission. She gets her friends killed. She can’t even save Prim. Katniss gets knocked out and wakes up with the War already won. She secures the safety of Panem for a time by killing Coin but even that is the act of someone who no longer cares for her own safety and well-being.
I’m not saying she doesn’t do anything, she does an incredible amount for her mental/emotional state. But she isn’t Strong or Brave or Resilient. She doesn’t dig deep because even if she did there wouldn’t be anything left. She is completely broken.
That is what makes her epilogue so beautiful. Because at the end of her story she isn’t a Victor. She isn’t The Hero. She just, learns to be okay. She falls in love and finds peace and happiness and safety. I don’t know if I would say that she ever becomes unbroken but she picks up the pieces she can salvage and does her best with them.
Katniss Everdeen’s character arc is not one of Strength. There are many strong characters. It is a study of weakness and the beauty and love and community that comes from weakness.
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genderless-naper · 2 months ago
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muddy problems
trafalgar law x gf!reader
warnings: fluffy law
sfw, wc: 1k, lowercase intended !
helping your tired law through shower time
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law walks through the halls of the polar tang tirelessly. he didn’t expect the most recent encounter with another pirate ship to be such a headache to handle. the captain of the opposing crew was was a devil fruit user: the user of the mud-mud fruit.
needless to say, it was hard for anyone to contain their laughter when law walked passed looking like he just got out of a mud bath. he wouldn’t usually be this forgiving, but he was simply too tired to deal with them. he kicked off his shoes before entering his room.
he saw you laying in his bed reading a book without a care in the world. his gaze softened slightly while drawing a loud breath to release some tension. you looked up at the raven-haired man.
you stared. he stared back.
you hold a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. it took every fiber in your body to restrain yourself from rolling on the floor in laughter.
you cleared your throat to greet him, “who knew the tough trafalgar law would fall victim to a mud bath in the middle of a fight?”
law doesnt reply to your statement. instead he focuses on discarding ed his current wear to avoid getting the place more dirty. he had bigger problems to worry about than some rhetoric questions. he needed to get clean fast. the mud on him started to make him feel suffocated.
he looks for a clean pair of clothes to wear for post shower. you close your book and put it on the bedside table so you can follow him. still fighting back laughs you continue to ask, “how many shampoo rinses do you think it takes for that mess to get out your hair?”
law sighs in his tired state and mumbles, “hopefully no more than 3”
you cant help but let a laugh escape, “just 3?? don’t you think you’re being s bit too generous captain? i was thinking at least 5!”
he groans quietly. it was clear the doctor was more exhausted than he would like to admit. you felt bad for your poor lover. as much as you would like to pick on him and his unusual circumstances you knew that wasn’t what law needed right now. he needed your support.
you ran to the bathroom to get his shower started for him. you made sure the temperature was just how he liked it. he followed momentarily; throwing his clean clothes on the shelf of the bathroom as a yawn escapes his lips.
he continues to discard the remainder of his mud soaked clothes while carefully placing them in a bag. he checked the temperature before getting in. another sigh escaping his lips. you smiled contently watching the way the water rolls off his skin, his muscles stretching with every moment, and how his lips part perfectly.
his rinses his hair with shampoo over and over. each wash just made him feel like the mud would never get out. after a few more moments he gives up. he decided to sit for a moment and let the water hit his strained body as he rubs his tired eyes.
you sympathize with you poor boyfriend. you turn the water off and rub his tense shoulders, “maybe i should help you baby? you see like you’ve had a long day”
law, being too prideful to accept your help, shook his head and responded lowly, “i just need a second..”
you hum, “you take a second and ill work on getting this mud out your hair.” you lathered the soup onto your palms and massaged it into the raven colored hair. you were on your knees to match his height as he sat. you massaged his scalp in order to clean every strand.
law’s senses of alertness slowly slipped away. he closed his eyes, and tried his best to keep his head up straight. after swaying from side to side you decided its best to rest his head on your chest as you worked through his hair. he created a soapy mess on your shirt. the man was too engulf in his own drowsiness to notice. you hum a sweet tune into his ear and watched as most his tense muscles relaxed with your touch.
he would never let anyone close like he has with you. sometimes he feels stupid to let his barriers come down for you, and feeling too afraid that something bad will happen to you as well. as much as law protests against himself he still finds himself sharing cherished intimate moments with you.
you guide the heavy-lidded man through the rest of his shower while reciting words of encouragement. getting your shirt wet in the process was a small price to pay to help your lover. once the shower concluded you turn it off and hand him his towel.
the tattooed man dries himself with it slowly. he slightly furrows his brows and points to your shirt, “why are you all wet?” completely oblivious to the consequences of his actions. you shook your head and giggled, “no specific reason baby”
he gave you an apologetic look after realizing he was the reason for your current soaked state. you quickly disregarded with lines of ‘it’s okay’s and ‘don’t worry’s. you gave him his clothes once he’s ready.
he grabs your arms and holds them up to pull your drenched shirt off. he wore his clean shirt on you, “i dont want you to get sick y/n, especially if its because of me.” you were going to protest against, but after seeing the look of anxiousness taking ahold of him you decided its best to accept his acts of kindness.
he always does everything in his power to make sure you are well; afraid to live in a world where he has to grieve you along with other which were once present in his life. it shows very much during moments like these. you place a few kisses on his lips feeling luckier than a lottery winner. you helped your tired boy navigate through the rest of his routine before he fell into bed. he lifted the cover up to make sure you followed in his steps. the mud-soaked version of himself from earlier that day became a part of the past. he enjoyed what he had at that very moment, and that was your beautiful self with a smile that lights your face. it was truly able to cure any disease of his heart. that night law had no trouble falling into an imaginative dream where you two lived together without a care in the world
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walkinthrudaisies · 1 month ago
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All I Want Is You
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demon!dean winchester x fem!reader
1.3k | angst
summary: as dean finds himself turned into a demon, the only thing that seems to be on his mind is getting back to you. but did you really know the extent he would take to achieve that?
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dean was in a frenzy, and all he wanted was to get back to you.
the memory of your skin on his kept him awake at night, tossing and turning until the sun rose and his hair was a crazed mess in his fingers.
it had been weeks since metatron had killed the eldest winchester. awakening the mark on his arm and turning him into a black eyed devil. he had left in a rush with crowley, not even saying goodbye to you or sam as the older demon whisked him away to go have some fun.
but his mind was a constant replay of your face, your voice, the feeling of your lips on his. all dean wanted was to have you back in his arms, and the weighing feeling on his demonic heart had him springing up in the middle of the night and ditching crowley to go and find you.
wherever he went, a line of bodies would follow behind him. his bar outings never stopped, and sometimes he just needed to blow off some steam by driving the first blade into some poor man’s chest.
he never got into bed with anyone though, for the thought of having anyone but you made him sick to his stomach. even as a demon, dean was forever loyal to you and only you. he hadn’t slept with any other woman in the three years you’d been together, and he wasn’t going to change that just because of the circumstances he was in now.
when he’d finally made it to the outskirts of the bunker, dean knew he couldn’t just go barging in. sam would try to save him, would try to keep you and him apart. he needed to find you first, needed to talk to you before sam tried to do anything.
driving into town, dean looked everywhere for any signs of you. when he noticed your car outside of a quaint bookshop, he didn’t hesitate to pull up in the spot beside yours, instantly making a beeline for the store.
dean lurked around the corners of the isles, trying to look for you while also attempting to keep his cover. he didn’t know if sam had joined you or not, and he didn’t want to be spotted by his brother before he could even see you.
turning a corner, dean finally caught sight of your long hair and defined side profile. even though he was a demon, he could still feel the air escape his lungs and the mood change around him. seeing you for the first time in weeks had him feeling things he’s never felt before. all dean wanted to do was run up to you and wrap his arms around your body. though his actions were halted as another man came into view from the other side of the isle and walked right over to you.
an instant feeling of rage took over dean’s senses. how dare this man talk to his girl? how dare he even be near her. little to dean’s knowledge, the man was simply just a customer. his only reason for talking to you was that he noticed the book you held in your hand was the one he was looking for, and he was wondering if there were anymore copies left.
the demon inside of dean didn’t understand that. so after the man left the store, dean followed him outside and brutally stabbed him with the first blade in a nearby alleyway.
something wasn’t right. you could feel that something terrible was happening, you just couldn’t place your finger on it. the recent murders in town had startled both you and sam, but you didn’t think that was what had you all worried.
that was until you started to think a little deeper.
turns out, each and every victim was someone you had encountered not even 24 hours before their timely death. the man from the bookstore, the cashier at the supermarket who made a gross comment on your outfit, even the nice old man who helped you at the flower shop had turned up slaughtered in a gruesome way.
you couldn’t understand why people you had interacted with for no more than a mere five minutes were being found dead in such graphic ways. if it wasn’t for sam suggesting that dean might have a play in all of it, you wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction.
no, you didn’t want to believe it. why would dean do this? to taunt you? dean was your boyfriend, the man you had loved for three years now, and nothing was going to change that. you and sam wanted to cure him, make him human again. him going around killing men who just talked to you had tears welling in your eyes, for the thought of how dean would react when he became human again broke your heart.
it had been a week since the murders started, and you tried to keep a distance from any men when you went out. it was for their own safety, for you knew that if dean noticed they’d be dead by sunrise.
but sam had an idea, and with his idea came you flirting with a random man in hopes of luring dean out.
unsurprisingly it worked. after the man had left you bar, you and sam followed him outside to where dean promptly ambushed him, almost landing a stab on his gut if it wasn’t for sam tackling him to the ground and knocking the blade out of dean’s hand.
the two brothers fought for some time, and when you made sure that the stranger was long gone, you grabbed the first blade and made a deal in shouting loudly to get dean’s attention.
instantly at the sound of your voice, dean pushed sam aside and stared longingly at you, pleading heavily to give you the blade back. but you weren’t budging, the only way you would give dean winchester the first blade was over your dead body.
“dean.” you started, moving slightly closer to where he stood. “i know what you’ve been doing. killing men i’ve talked to. but that’s not going to get me back dean. it’s just going to push me away.” your words had dean deflating, an angry look taking over his eyes as he now started to circle you.
“push you away? are you kidding me Y/N! i did it for you! all of it was for you! how can’t you see that?” at that point you’d realized that in dean’s demonic hazed brain, he believed that killing any man that got in his way to you would somehow have you crawling back to him.
that wasn’t going to work on you. all you wanted was your dean back. the dean who still watched scooby doo and wore punny socks, not the man who slaughtered innocent people just to get your attention.
somewhere deep down, you knew that dean’s love for you was still there. he wouldn’t be doing all of this if a part of him didn’t still care for you. but saving dean was you and sam’s number one priority, and getting dean back to his actual self would be all you wanted at the moment.
smiling softly, you whispered ‘i know’ just as sam hit dean over the head with a wooden beam, knocking him unconscious on the ground.
you knelt down beside him as sam put the demon cuffs on his wrists, allowing you to help him haul dean into the back of the impala, starting your journey back to the bunker to cure him.
turning around in your seat, you looked at dean’s closed eyes and parted lips as you stroked his cheek. smiling sadly as sam started the car. “don’t worry, dean. we’re going to help you.” a kiss was landed on his forehead before you turned back around, placing your head on the window as the journey towards his recovery came to the end.
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emoangel44 · 10 months ago
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The thing I've always loved most about aa4 is how much darker the tone is than the rest of the series in a way that isn't just edgy for the sake of it, but subverts your expectations from the original 3 games in a really interesting way. The trilogy was built upon the trust Phoenix had in others, and it was something we as players could almost always feel certain in. AA4 flips this on its head and makes it so Apollo effectively can't trust anyone but himself.
Your mentor, who the in the trilogy was a paragon of wisdom you could always turn to no matter what, gets revealed to be the culprit and sent to jail in the first trial and by the end of the game his list of crimes has stacked high but you still have so few answers on why he did any of it.
Your boss, the goofy protagonist of the trilogy, is now inexplicably a washed-up, disgraced, cheating poker player with an implied drinking problem who seemingly found a new hobby in evidence forgery and jury rigging.
He has a codependent relationship with his daughter, your assistant, who usually is a completely innocent and hapless victim of circumstance. She sees herself as the provider for the house and will help her father cheat at poker, or forge evidence, or guilt trip the poor attorney they knowingly screwed of out of a job into working for them for dirt cheap.
The detective, the only other returning main character, a previous assistant, is completely changed since we last saw her. In the trilogy she was chipper and bright despite the hardships she faced, and now she's unfriendly and burned out, turned bitter by the world. The scene we're first properly introduced to her in Apollo genuinely spends several minutes thinking his boss is making him bribe her with cocaine.
Every single defendant is a criminal guilty of something other than what they're charged for. Each case centers around an underground black-market poker ring, a mafia family and medical malpractice, a smuggling ring, and a family of forgers and an incredibly shady troupe of magicians. The one thing all of these people have in common is that none of them will tell you literally anything about what's happening, half of them clearly reveling in being as big of cryptic assholes as possible.
The only person who doesn't fit this description is, for once, the prosecutor. Usually your biggest obstacle and the most morally corrupt of the main cast, he's the only person who's both 100% on the side of truth and on the same page as you for the entire game. He's just as clueless as you, being used nothing more than a chess piece just like you are.
But the truly masterful thing about AA4 is how morally grey it is. These characters aren't just one note villains. They're not even villains at all. Most of them aren't even malicious.
Your boss, for all the low levels he stoops to, is underneath it all the same guy he's always been, doing everything he can to bring a criminal to justice and protect his family. Your assistant is a sweet girl who truly cares about you, she's just prioritizing herself and her fathers safety before anything else. The detective is the same passionate and kind woman under everything else. The rest of the defendants are genuinely well-meaning young people who got involved in shady stuff they didn't fully understand.
The game is filled with good people trying to make the best of bad circumstances. The game has just as many fun moments as the original trilogy. For all it's rough appearance, the game has a similar heart. For every unanswered question or unrighted wrong, there's a smile or a hope for a better future. For every bad action, there's usually someone trying their best behind it. The game is melancholic and dark, but isn't afraid to let good shine through. It knows there's no shadows without the light.
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quasi-normalcy · 7 months ago
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I know that this is the "Turning social problems into matters of individual virtue" website, but here's one change that you can make to yourself as an individual that I honestly think will have beneficial collective effects:
Stop Thinking You're Better Than Other People.
Do I mean that you should go through life thinking that you're the lowliest and most wretched scum who's ever lived? No. I mean that there exists no meaningful criterion by which one human being can be said to be absolutely 'better' than another. And even if there was, you don't know enough about other people's circumstances and interior thoughts to meaningfully judge them in these absolute terms. So don't even try! It's a futile endeavour.
"But what about fascists? Surely I'm better than them!"
Okay, so let me preface this by saying that fascists are dangerous, they're misguided, their acts and intentions are evil, and they need to be stopped, including through physical violence. But you're not better than them. I know that this is a difficult pill to swallow; I myself used to pat myself used to pat myself on the back because, well, at least I wouldn't have been a Nazi. But you know what? If the circumstances were right, I could have been. We all could have been, just as we all could have joined a cult at some point.
Looking at myself, for example: there was never any serious possibility that I could have been swept up into the alt-right movement. Why? Because I'm transgender, and I was raised to be a socialist. How easy it is to *not* become a fascist when you're one of their scapegoats! How much harder it would be to avoid if you're one of the people they flatter and groom, if you're raised by people who are sympathetic to fascist ideals, if you grow up in a community where such ideals are common! The fact that fascist movements can seemingly emerge amongst every nation and people--including those who have historically been victims of fascism--confirms this. What if I had lived a hundred years later, at a time when transgenderism was a complete non-issue, and they'd moved on to some new scapegoat? What if they had approached me on my absolute worst day and told me that all of my problems were caused by moochers and parasites, and that I could fight back and claim my birth right by joining them? Can I really say that I wouldn't? Can anyone?
But even beyond that, what is a fascist but the ultimate example of someone who needs to feel superior to others? What is scapegoating but the act of selecting an entire group of people and declaring them to be inferior to you? And if you just refuse to believe these things; if you refuse to accept the premise that some people are better than others, and call it out whenever it comes up; then you're cutting these movements off at knees! The ideological force of fascism comes from imagining humanity as a strict hierarchy, with the master race on top and the degenerates on the bottom. Simply refuse to believe in such a hierarchy! Refuse to even entertain it!
"But then how can I feel self-esteem? How can I feel that I matter and have value?"
You have value just by existing as a person! But if that's not enough for you, then try this: instead of trying to increase your sense of self-worth by finding people to feel superior to, increase it by being of value to others. Help them! Make their lives better! Contribute to society! Not even in a way that you can (necessarily) put a dollar value on, but in any way you can! Create art! Plant a pollinator garden! Tell a joke! Make someone happy! If nothing else, you can at least give someone love, and I guarantee you that that will be of value to them. The universe is so vast and we're all so small that any value we can ever have will only ever be to each other. And surely it beats spending your life trying to be king of the microbes.
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bloodandthestars · 1 year ago
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HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS!! Why is Miguel so beautiful.. 😭
Can I request a Miguel O’Hara x Madam-Web reader? Like maybe she’s well known for being the “Mom” on campus in the Spider-Society, with her and Miguel having a “will they, won’t they” flirty vibe going on?
And she verbally beats his fine a$s for how horrible he treated Miles (who was undoubtedly a victim of circumstance, just like most all Spider-Men) but Miguel can’t really focus on what she’s saying because he just finds her “Mama bear” attitude Hot as hell.. and she can sense it..
Reader: *blank stare*.. horny a$s vampspider~ 😒
Miguel: … 😏
Petter B: guys PLEASE! Not infront of the kids!!!
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⸗ 𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄
tags: NO SPOILERS!, spouse! spanish speaking! gn reader
author’s note: hello lovie! you’re my first request ever! i hope you’ll enjoy this, since i had to tweak it due to me not seeing the movie yet and having a few ideas that made me want to write this IMMEDIATELY. translations at the bottom of the post!
wc :: 1.4k masterlist
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Spider-man 2099, Miguel O’hara to differentiate him from the rest. The leader and creator of the Spider Society. In the protection of the multiverse, he’s dedicated his life to it. Unwavering, unmoving, if there was an obstacle, he intends to removes it.
“No! It’s not up for discussion.” He snaps back to the group behind him. Peter B., Miles, and Gwen follow behind him in his furious stride to his control center. His voice could echo amongst the society’s campus. Some of the spider-people wince at the boom of his voice. It was easy for them to conclude that it was another day, another problem to handle.
“Oh come on, Miguel.” Peter B. says with a groan. “It’s not a big deal. You can let him off the hook!”
“Having someone watching over like some kind of-” Gwen sputters to find her words. “-parole officer isn’t going to help anyone.”
“Well you said it, not me.” The larger man huffs, causing the trio to roll their eyes.
The doors of his control center slide open with a hiss. Miguel can’t help the scowl on his face, all the more natural with his work. He continues to walk, head turning over his shoulder to speak to them. “I told him and you, if he wants a spot back here he had to earn it-”
Miles frowns. It feels like they’ve been going in endless circles about him coming back into the society and leaving him close to exhausted. “But I-”
“Enough, he’s doing it my way or not at-”
“Uh…Miguel…?” Peter B. trails off with a finger pointing behind him.
“What-?!”
Turning to his vast data center, he stops immediately in his tracks just to practically feel his heart fall into his ass.
You had your arms crossed, a crease to mesh your brows together furiously. Peter B. grimaces at the stern look on your face, knowing it all too well from his own spouse back in his universe. Miles is surprised to witness Miguel drop his hardened expression and voice in an instant. Your husband lets go of his startled state, arms out as he walks towards you. “Dios mío- ¿mi amor? What’s with that look on your face?”
“You went after Miles?!”
The boom in your voice causes the trio to cringe back. Behind his intelligent mind that oversaw the Spider society, you were right beside him in every step. It was a large part of both of your lives, with highs and lows and plenty of difficulties. But it was for the greater good, for a connection of people who’ve been the victims of circumstances. You’d defend your fellow heroines with your heart, including from the wrath of your husband’s stubbornness. Miguel goes up the small step with a sigh. “I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for good reason.”
“Good reason? Right, go ahead. Tell me.”
“It was for protecting you! Protecting everyone!”
“At the cost of some of someone so young?!” Your tone shifts. “¡Vas a lastimar a alguien! O tú mismo!”
Miles’s wide eyes shit to the floor. Your switch reminded of his mom, going into Spanish on the phone to let others around her know that their conversation was not for them. You were more charged than her in these circumstances.
He feels eyes on him, and turns to see Peter B. and Gwen spare him a glance from their awkward stance. Peter B. motions with his head towards the couple, eyes darting back and forth with an muffled cough. Miles eventually gives in and sighs. “…they’re saying that he could have gotten someone hurt, or himself.”
“¡No, no lo estoy! El destino del-” Miguel implores.
You groan. “I swear to God if you mention-”
“-the fate of the universe-“ The three spider people behind him join you in unison.
“-one more time-”
The two of you drone on for a bit, with Miles trying his best to whisper translations to Gwen and Peter B.
“This is serious stuff, [name]. And I mean that with my body and soul.” Miguel grabs both your hands at his emphasis, holding them gently despite your heated discussion. “Eres mi vida, él lo puso en riesgo.”
Miles’s eyes go down to the floor, eyes saddened along with his voice. “He said I put them at risk.”
Peter B. and Gwen soften, eyes going back to you both. You look at your hands together. Gold bands shined in the various blues and reds of the room, the diamond on your ring leaving fluorescent reflection on skin. He watched as your lips press together. You look up to him, “He wouldn’t do it on purpose.”
“You don’t know that-we didn’t know that-“
You shake your head, snatching your hands away to point a finger in his face. “No zip it, Miguel!”
He leans back with his eyes wide. The others react in shock as well as you fall back into Spanish to speak to your husband. Peter B. didn’t need a translator to know the man was being reprimanded, cringing back when your emphasis got aggressive. Gwen looks to him, then to Miles— too speechless to keep translating. Peter B. looks to Miguel, slowly squinting at his demeanor. The longer you spoke, the shock dissipated into something else. His eyes were softer, arms holding one another as he leaned further to listen. You didn’t take notice, still chewing him out.
“-esto es ridículo, Miguel! Eres un hombre maduro, no tienes que actuar así. ¿No crees que puede haber un malentendido?”
When you ask him the tantalizing question, he’s in a moment of pause. The man takes a step further to you. You look at him with unwavering eyes, expecting another long speech about your protection that you were all too familiar with. Instead, his fingers curl to brush under your chin, voice dropping to speak to you. “Eres guapa cuando estás enfadada.”
You’re beautiful when you’re angry. Your eyes widen, heat creeping up your back. Was he even listening to a word you said? You know he wouldn’t just ignore you or your opinions. It only took you a minute to realize that distant look on his face the whole time was to focus on your lips as you spoke. Your brows furrow, muttering to him in attempts to hold on to your reprimand. “…No cambies de tema.”
Don’t change the subject. He gives you a slight smile. With a tilt of his head, Miguel brushes his fingers under your chin again, stepping closer. “¿Por qué, no cuando cada uno de mis pensamientos gira en torno a ti?”
You give him a look, though your shoulders loose their tension. “Cabrón descarado…”Despite your words, the ends of your lips quirk up without thinking. His smirk only widens at the sight. “Y todo el tuyo también.”
Peter B. looks between you both with an expression of confusion. Weren’t you just- fighting? He takes his attention to the way you both look at each other. His brows loosen, raising to the sky when the realization hits. Turning to Miles and Gwen, he grabs both their shoulders and turn them around. The pair are forced to walk towards the entrance, eyes in a perpetually widened state.
“Alright!” The father explains. “Time to go, yep, let’s just-”
“But what about-”
Peter hunches down to aggressively whisper to them. “Guys. This is a free get out of jail card.” His head drops for a moment before looking back up. “A scarring one but nonetheless.”
Miguel thought them as out of sight and out of mind, eyes attentive to your frustrated look. How could he pays attention anything else with the way you got? The determination in your eyes and voice, how you would step to him knowing that many rarely could. You were passionate and he’d fall for it every time. The man wouldn’t have anyone else with him. He understood your words, took them in, but god did your lips too good not to take.
Your lips were captured in a plush embrace, eyes fluttering shut when he does so. The fingers under your chin turn to cup your cheek. Your hand goes to his side to invite him to come closer. Tension in your body left in an instant. Your husband lets out a soft sigh, mind enthralled in your presence. He pulls away with a slow blink of his eyes. Your eyes open, your smile now soft.
“Esto no ha terminado.” You mutter with a hand on top of his, thumb brushing over the back of it.
He chuckles darkly, caressing your cheek with a look in his eye. “Cuento con eso.”
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translations: “¡vas a lastimar a alguien! o tú mismo!” (you could have gotten someone hurt! or yourself!)
“¡no, no lo estoy! el destino del-” (no i’m not! the fate of the-)
“eres mi vida, él lo puso en riesgo.” (you are my life, he put that at risk.)
“-esto es ridículo, Miguel! Eres un hombre maduro, no tienes que actuar así. ¿No crees que puede haber un malentendido?” (this is ridiculous, Miguel! you are a grown ass man, you don’t have to act like this. don’t you think there may be a misunderstanding?)
“¿por qué, no cuando cada uno de mis pensamientos gira en torno a ti?” (why not when each of my thoughts revolve around you?)
“cabrón descarado…” (cheeky bastard...), “y todo el tuyo también.” (and all yours too.)
“esto no ha terminado.” (this isn’t over), “cuento con eso.” (i’m counting on that)
taglist: @manchuria @mezzke @rea-zxv @vvitcxen @pooiooi @jowtaro @coleseyebrows @deputy-videogamer @vegas-writing-den @m150-50up
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almacambiondaughterofsaleos · 8 months ago
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The Biggest Problem With Hazbin Hotel's Rehabilitation Mentality Is Trying To Make All Sinners Victims Instead Of Owning Up To Their Own Sins
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I think the biggest problem with Hazbin Hotel rehabilitation mentality is that they focus in on how sinners are victim of circumstances rather than owning up to their problems and changing themselves. I think the biggest thing with this series is the fact that they think the problem is society instead of someone's own issues how they got into hell.
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One of the first indications of this bs is making it out that Lucifer and Lilith were just misunderstood dreamers were against a strict ignoring that they caused sin in the world and caused help humanity's downfall. But the narrative ignores that fact and tries to treat them as victims of heaven, so we can have Lucifer as a misunderstood sad boy instead of how in the Bible he was jealous of humanity and wanted to bring it down with him due to God's love for them. A misunderstood sad boy wouldn't do this type of shit and Vivziepop selling it a load of it.
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I know this is going to be controversial but I think Angel Dust is hindered as a character but not focusing on what got him into hell. And it wasn't just the drugs and sex, because he did kill people and some of them probably didn't end up in hell. So just imagine him being sent to heaven and his former victims recognized him for his crimes and until now showed repentance. However, the narrative even then doesn't focus on that fact but the idea he's a total victim and doesn't show part of his way to redemption is get his life back together and admit he's done shit where he wasn't the victim but the victimizer. One could say he was put through that life, but then again show his sister is in heaven and that she chose a life of virtue and made it. So, he has no excuse of his dad or brother getting himself into hell except himself and he needs to work on it. Even if he's a victim to Valentino, he still is a victimizer in someone else's eyes who recognizes him decades ago.
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And I am also going to say this the Extermination is used as a way to have all of hell be turned into pitied victims that you forget a lot of them are in hell for a reason. And even more they are doing antics that got them probably into hell like murder, sex, and other types of depravity. While not all sinners are on the same level, the exterminations as a whole just i used to make you forget that they are there for a reason and erase that there is a reason they weren't given a chance into heaven. Seriously, Emily herself called them innocent souls when in any other scene they are far from innocent and the reason why Adam is depicted as a one note villain is because they can't fathom the idea that maybe the Extermination could be used to cull the worst sinners or something.
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I think the biggest problem with Hazbin Hotel's every sinner is really a victim it comes ironically counter to finding redemption. A show which Vivziepop says she inspires from but she completely misses the point is Bojack. She says she's watched it but the biggest point of the show just because you are the victim doesn't give you an excuse to act like a total jackass to others and not own up to your mistakes. The problem is Habzin Hotel never lets anyone own up because they have to play victims, especially any character favored by Vivziepop. Redemption doesn't come from seeing yourself as a victim, but recognizing your own mistakes and how to reform from them. And frankly I didn't see Angel Dust want to reform from his mistakes, but just want a home away from Val. The problem is that Hazbin Hotel is about enforcing victimhood instead of owning up that you did bad things and need to change. An excuse for your behavior is still not fully an excuse and you need to own up to your actions.
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woeswrites · 8 months ago
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Yandere Will Graham
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Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors, Brief mention of rape/rapist, Dubious consent (mention of sex while under the influence), etc.
Notes: I am trying to be active again (fingers crossed). Headcannons are a really easy way for me to get the creative juices flowing. Don't be surprised if a few more come out after this one lol.
You were a recent survivor of an attack
No, it wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper
It was just some other wannabe serial killer trying to get his rocks off
He had a dumb, stereotypical name too
The midnight slasher? midnight butcher?
Something like that
The media wasn't very creative with it
Whatever his name was, he'd clearly had a type
Young men
All of a similar stature
With the same hair and eye color
All known to known be up at all hours of the day
It was a pretty open and shut case in Will's eyes
He was a plain and simple lust killer
Most likely white and in his 30s-40s
Classic closet case turned homicidal
He hadn't seen why the FBI was so stumped on the whole thing
The only real trouble was the lack of DNA evidence
He'd been real good at cleaning up after himself
Will knew he'd slip up eventually
This wasn't the type of guy to be so well organized for long
Well--
Does being murdered by your most recent victim count as a slip up?
Because that's exactly what happened
He was called to the scene with the rest of the team
The sight of you trembling, covered in blood, and standing over top of that creep was his first impression
You met his eyes and he was unable to pull away
Something about your tear blotched face held him captive
Jack tasked him with asking you questions about the events at hand
Normally this would have annoyed Will
He wasn't the talking type
Let alone someone sensitive enough to make such a traumatized person feel comfortable
But something in him didn't mind so much
Maybe it was the way you looked so vulnerable
Or the fact that no matter how much he pushed the idea away, he saw himself in you
An innocent man turned murderer under the right circumstances
"I'm Will Graham and I'll be asking you some questions."
"God, okay. I'm Y/n. Can't really say it's nice to meet you."
Will tried to start off slow
Ask the basics before moving onto the more pertinent information
You'd answer to the best of your abilities (considering the circumstances)
It took Will a second to jot down your responses
He'd get a little too caught up in your features to notice you'd stop talking
"Sorry, what was that? You got off work at 9?"
There was something admirable about your attempts to infuse your story with a bit of dry humor
Likely a coping mechanism
But Will found himself smiling a bit at your quips
By the time he'd finish up with you he'd felt a little attachment form
Sure the case was over on his end
But it didn't stop him from asking Jack about you
At least a couple times a week
"How's things going with that self defense case? Y/n's...?"
Will showed up the next day with your case fill on his desk
The sticky note stuck to it warned about annoying Jack with too many questions
He'd spend all night re-reading the details
Without noticing he began slipping in and out of re-enactment mode
Imagining you on top of him
Knife in hand
Crazed look in your eyes
He tried to shake the image away
He shouldn't be doing this
It wasn't right
You could've died that night
His guilt ridden thoughts did nothing to lessen the tent that had formed in his pajama pants
He tried to push the idea of you out of his head
Usually he'd have more control over himself than this
His resolve was strong at first
He'd hidden the manila folder away in the depths of his lower drawer
Telling himself he'd drop it
That worked for a couple of days
That was before he started dreaming of you
Events that he hadn't preformed himself took ahold of him
He became your attacker that night
He chased you
He ripped apart your clothes
He was the one who you fought off
He's the one who you thrust that knife into
And he loved every second of it
Wait--
No, he couldn't
This was just his empathy disorder
Yeah!
He was just in character
This definitely wasn't him
He would never want to do any of that stuff
And he'd prove it
He had memorized that file from front to back at this point
It wouldn't be weird that he'd known your address
He was an FBI consultant
It was basically warranted
Will found himself picking out his best clothes that night
His newest jeans, tailored shirt, the works
Not for any particular reason
And his bed was definitely not littered with rejected articles of clothing
This was just going to be a simple checkup, it's not like it really mattered what he looked like
He showed up on your doorstep with the nicest bottle of wine he could find
"Will? Is that you?"
"Uh, yeah it is. Would I be able to come in?"
You welcomed him in, albeit a little confused
"I thought my case was cleared..."
"That's not what I'm here for. I just wanted to check in on you."
You smiled at this
And Will felt his heart ache
You'd invite him to join in on your sorry excuse for a dinner
He'd never accepted anything so fast before in his life
It didn't take long before the two of you got into the wine he'd brought
It was innocent enough at first
Just drinking and talking
You'd mention how life was after the attack
Will shared a little about his experience with GJH
Its the first time he had ever felt so utterly connected with another person before
But then the two of you got a little more than tipsy
And Will found himself leaning in
One kiss turned into another and another
Will felt a sense of static overtake him
Every touch between the two of you sent shivers up his spine
He felt the strong urge to consume
Before either of you knew it your clothes were now in a heap on the kitchen floor
You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache
Oh-- and an FBI agent in your bed
Shock was an understatement
That was when the memories of the previous night flooded back
Will woke up at the loss of warmth
Last night was the best he had slept in years
You wrapped tight in his arms, bodies perfectly intertwined
His heart sank at the look of regret on your face
"We definitely shouldn't have done that. I think you should leave Will..."
He couldn't just leave now
Not knowing what he did
That you two were made for one another
He'd try to calm you down
"Y/n let's talk about this."
You weren't having it
Mentioning how inappropriate this all was
You'd shove his clothes into his arms
Will tried to console you
Not realizing why you were so worked up
You both did just have the best night of your life after all
You'd back away but he'd continue approaching
"C'mon I know you don't really want me to go. Let's just take a second before we make any rash decisions"
"We aren't doing anything. I want you to go. Now."
Something about him coming over while you were still recovering from your distress and it all leading to this...
It just didn't feel right
Will tried to approach once more but you pushed him away
He couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his face
"Push me. Go on, make it hurt."
You were absolutely bewildered
He reached out and grabbed ahold of you
His grip was almost crushing
Like he was holding on for dear life
"I won't leave you alone that easily. Fate brought us together for a reason. You feel it too right? We're one in the same. We're each other's destiny."
He looked crazed, sweat slipping from his brow
It felt just like that night all over again
The knife in your hand as your attacker bled out
Only now Will took his place underneath you
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peenisblog · 1 month ago
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hey baaabe, can you maybe write tae or jimin falling for oc whos also an idol but they cant really show it to anyone? 🥹
A/N: I will write Tae with a proper secret relationship but for now I present to you……
IDYLLIC
IDOL!JIMIN X IDOL!GN!READER
Synopsis: Jimin has a rule. A code if you will. Under no circumstances will he ever date another idol. He's lived by it for many years. Not once has he ever been close to breaking it. Until he met you that is.
W/C: 2.2k
WARNING: Jimin struggling with his feelings slight angst
REQUESTS: OPEN
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It wasn't ideal. In an industry like Jimins you don't have time for relationships. A lot of the time you don't even have the mental energy. There was too much to work around.
You don't want to date a fan. They already have a version of you built up in their head. One that would quickly prove itself untrue.
If you do manage to find someone who doesn't know who you are that too can become a disaster. Paparazzi lurk behind every corner. The whole relationship is forced into secrecy. It could ruin your career, it could ruin your partner's life. It isn't good for a relationship. Most people need more. They want to go out on dates. They want normalcy, not to be hidden deep in a closet like dirty laundry.
There were other idols… one look at an idol of the opposite sex and the media would be pumping out articles about a secret love affair. Every week someone would come up to Jimin asking about an idol he hadn't even spoken to.
That was only part of it. Companies would clash. Some companies would push a narrative to try and profit off it.
In the Idol industry, two idols dating was taboo. Some sort of curse that ran rampant through the industry. People would talk behind their backs. Send sympathetic looks to the poor souls that fell victim to it. It was hard as an idol not to fall for another. Idols ended up being around other idols quite a bit. People have needs and when you're surrounded by attractive people it's hard not to go seeking comfort.
Another idol would know what you're going through. They could understand things regular people never could.
But it always ended badly. The media loved it. It was a drama that kept people clicking. So the cameras kept flashing.
So Jimin did the sensible thing. He swore off dating. Of course, every now and then he would find himself in someone's bed. But it never was more than that.
He would risk his and his members career on a scandal. Jimin knew he wouldn't be able to balance a relationship and everything else like Namjoon does. He would slip up when he knew he would. It was easier to just not even try. It was better this way.
For a long time it worked. Jimin managed. He wasn't tempted. He was good.
Until you waltzed into his life. It was at a photoshoot. You were also set to get photographed by the same photographer.
Your shot was before his. As luck would have it, Jimin had arrived early and the staff invited him back.
He had seen you before. Your face was plastered over posters and billboards all across Seoul. None of it could compare to you in real life. None of them, not even the best photos that got the front page of magazines, came close to capturing all of you.
Jimin couldn't tear his eyes away from you as you posed. Your eyes strayed from the camera and settled on him for one brief flickering moment and that's all it took for Jimin to know he was a goner.
Then as if you hadn't even seen him at all your eyes settled back on the camera. Jimin hightailed it out of there and into the break room.
Water. He needed water. That's it, he was probably just dehydrated. Jin was always getting on his case about drinking more water. Something to drink and he would be just fine.
He had just cracked open the bottle and was about to take a sip when he heard you.
“Hey it's Jimin right?”
Slowly almost like a scene out of a movie Jimin turned. Only a few feet behind him there you were. Still in all the glam required for the photoshoot, obviously you had just finished. Jimin swallowed dryly, wishing he had drunk the water already. His tongue was sticking to the rook of his mouth. He managed one shaky nod.
“I'm Y/N.”
“I know.” Great, he had finally managed to say something and he sounded like an asshole.
You took it in stride, or maybe you just hadn't noticed
“Sorry for making you wait. Had some wardrobe issues so we went a little over time,” You said sheepishly.
Then as if it was the most natural thing in the world you reached around him and grabbed one of the water bottles on the counter.
Instantly your scent surrounded Jimin. His breath hitched before he settled on just holding his breath. This close he could see the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. He could see the smallest crease in your eye makeup, probably from laughing.
You leaned back like nothing had happened at all. Like you hadn't just thrown Jimin's code and way of life out the window. You hadn't noticed a thing at all.
Jimin's photo shoot didn't go as well as they usually did. His mind was elsewhere, his poses a little sloppy as he tried to listen to the staff. But everything just felt like static noise.
Ever since then you seemed to be everywhere. Or maybe Jimin was just now noticing your presence.
You were at every party. Every formal event. Always dressed exquisitely. Always looking perfect. Always distracting him.
The rest of his members took notice. They would cast each other looks every time Jimin's eyes strayed back to you.
Jimin tried his hardest not to think of you. To cast every thought of you from his mind. He would turn off the T.V if you came on screen. He would turn off his phone every time you were trending.
Yet everywhere he went. You were there. When he got seated next to you in a fashion stone all he could do was sit stone still. He listened to you gush about the pieces with your friend and it just made everything ten times worse.
Occasionally you would turn to Jimin and try to make small talk. Everytime you two were in the vicinity of him you tried to talk to him. Maybe you were just being polite but Jimin couldn't help but relish in it.
It was so unnatural for him. Jimin was used to making others flustered, not the other way around. He just had that effect, yet this time all of it was turned around on him.
All of it came to its peak on New Year's eve. Hoseok had insisted on throwing a party. Only certain people were invited. Mostly other Idols the group trusted and some personal friends.
You made an appearance. Something Jungkook who had made the guest list failed to mention.
You were beautifully done up and hanging off the arm of one of your friends. The two of you looked so comfortable together. You fit into that spot so perfectly Jimin started to wonder if the two of you were dating.
The thought made him so uncomfortable that he had to turn away. Jimin just missed the look Jungkook gave him.
Jimin poured himself a drink, the first one of the night.
“You alright man?” Jungkook asked.
“Yeah why?” Jimin took a sip and winced at the sharp taste of alcohol and way to sweet juice. Damn Taehyung and his strange drink concoctions.
“I dunno. Lately you've seemed…” Jungkook paused, not sure how to put it, “Strange. You know you can talk to me right? Any of us?”
He wanted to. So badly. He wanted to ramble endlessly about you. How you always managed to look so perfect. How you helped the staff that one time you spilt a drink. How you always kept a calm composure when something clearly ticked you off. How he thought about you every waking hour.
But he couldn't. They all knew about his code. How he felt about dating, especially dating another idol.
Jimin was afraid that he would agree. They would tell him it wasn't a good idea. Not worth the trouble. And then he wouldn't. Because he respected the options of his members, even if it killed him inside.
Yet he was also afraid they would tell him to stop being stupid. To go for it. That even if it ends horribly at least he had you. Even if it was for a little bit. If they held that opinion… Jimin didn't know what he would do.
So he settled on “I'm fine, just stressed about this next album.”
Jimin could tell Jungkook didn't buy it. Not even for a second. Not wanting to be questioned, Jimin slinked off to go find Jin and to avoid you.
He managed well. Jin was in the kitchen over seeing Taehyung's new drink ideas.
You were easy to avoid. Jimin could easily spot your form in the crowd. Pick out your laugh in the cacophony of voices.
Halfway through the party Namjoon came and found him, “Hey Min can you go grab the bottle of tequila I left out on the balcony? My hands are kind of full.”
Namjoon gestured with an arm full of coats. Jimin didn't even notice that most of the coats were the groups, which had already been started away in their respective closets.
“Oh so it's a tequila kind of party?” Jimin said with a smirk before he pushed himself away from the counter.
He worked his way through the crowd before he reached the glass doors leading out to the balcony. Jimin spotted the bottle, sitting on the patio table. He slipped out to quickly grab it.
But what he failed to notice was you, arms crossed and leaning over the balcony. Gazing up at the stars.
Jimin noticed you only a split second before you turned around.
“Oh hey Jimin,” you greeted. It was too late now for him to scamper back into the party.
“Hey. What are you doing out here?”
“Oh you know. Just needed a break from the party.”
Jimin hummed in acknowledgement.
“Care to join me?” You turned back around to look at the night sky once more.
“Well Namjoon asked me to-” Jimin looked over his shoulder back at the glass doors. What he saw cut his sentence short.
Yoongi was staring at him with a devious little smirk. When their eyes met Yoongi reached forward and turned the lock on the door.
God damn him. Jimin gestured widely at Yoongi, willing him to unlock the door. It's not like he could yell out and demand him to. Not with you standing there.
With a cheeky smile and wave Yoongi slinked off into the crowd. Leaving Jimin stranded on the patio with you.
“Do I bother you?” You asked.
Jimin swung back around so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. You hadn't turned back around but there was a noticeable tension in your shoulders.
“What?” Jimin said bewildered, “No? What makes you say that?”
“It just seems like you've made it your life mission to avoid me.”
Jimin was starting to wish he had accepted the third drink Tae tried to shove into his hands. He could really use the extra liquid courage right now.
Damnit. Jimin thought to himself. Get it together. You're a grown man. Jimin Park.
Jimin breathed out a deep breath and came to rest against the railing with you. His eyes focused on the cityscape in front of you two. He couldn't trust himself to look directly at you. He might jump onto you and never let you go.
“I don't…. Dislike you.”
“Well it sure seems like you do.” You said quietly.
Jimins heart panged. This wasn't what he wanted.
“I'm sorry…”
“Listen. I know we don't know each other. And we don't have to. Let's just be civil? It's hard in this industry.”
No no no. This is NOT what he wanted. Not how he planned this to be. Jimin didn't want to be civil, he wanted to be yours.
“I want to… know you.”
“You don't have to spare my feelings Jimin.”
Jimins head whipped around. You still hadn't looked at him. Your jaw was clenched and your bottom lip was quivering as if you were about to cry.
“I'm not! I'm really not, Y/N I-” Jimin took a deep breathe “I like you. I really do.”
You were silent.
“I don't date…” Jimin said after a moment.
“Oh….Jimin…I really think I like you too… But I don't do hookups.” You said slowly.
“That's not what I meant… I mean usually I don't date. But I can't stop thinking about you. You make me want to throw that rule away and never look back.”
There were some cheers from the party. Then the countdown started.
You turned to face Jimin head on. Your eyes met his for the first time since he came out to the patio.
“Three!”
Jimin swallowed and his eyes flickered down to your lips.
“Two!”
“Jimin. Will you kiss me?”
“One!”
He pressed his lips to yours as cheers echoed out from the party.
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amostnobleyandere · 2 years ago
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Yandere! Noble! Scaramouche x GN! Reader (Arranged Marriage)
A/N: hey look first post!!!! this blog is basically just a place to dump my thoughts on yanderes and situations w them// if you’re not comfortable w that, please leave!!! this is not the place for you
GN reader but!!! the word “bride” is used once so do w that what you will .
remember, this is a mature blog !!! don’t like don’t read!!!!!!!!
warning(s): male! yandere, toxic relationships, slightly narcissistic yandere, verbal abuse, child neglect, arranged marriage, toxic behavior, bad parenting skills, loneliness, obsession, yandere scaramouche, scaramouche is his own warningetc. etc.
Synopsis: there’s this specific scenario ive been thinking of lately : an enemies to lovers, but with a yandere that is particularly bitter and hasn’t really experienced an unconditional love before but then his initial hatred of you turns into an obsession. I thought scara was perfect for it :)
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neither of you had wanted to get married; you, the child of the last bloodline of a falling noble family, and scaramouche, heir to one of the wealthiest and most prestigious names in the empire, would have never been pushed to marry under normal circumstances. it could only be assumed that fate had revealed its hand and placed its destiny upon you.
you had never even met the young man that society had branded as ruthlessly curt with a lash-like tongue. you had never expected to, considering how far apart you were, in different circles and in different worlds
he was the duchess’ nephew and only heir, and was untouchable in both stature and power. in contrast, your family name was declining rapidly. you knew why your mother and father had accepted the marriage proposal the day it came, and you knew why they decided not to tell you until the letter in reply had already been sent. you had no say in the matter
how your parents arranged a marriage between the two of you? well, you could certainly guess; noble ladies gossiped and gasped about the young man who was rich with a handsome face, but with an incredibly arrogant personality and a razor tongue that both reflected his wit and endless scorn. you thought that the rumors must have been over exaggerated, as they always were, but for the duchess to have to reach out to your family to find a spouse for her son? had all the other contestants being rejected, and now they were picking through the scraps that were left? or perhaps, had they rejected him?
now, you weren’t so sure
even then, some part of you had never thought they would agree to something like this; they had concluded that this was what was best for you, had even told you that you will live a much happier life if you were in a household that wasn’t always on the edge of crumbling and giving way to time; you could see that they did have the best of intentions. and still, you felt betrayed
unbeknownst to you, at the time, your fiancé had felt the same way toward his mother; the expression of his feelings on the matter, however, included a lot more yelling and rage in his questions as to why he was being dragged into this. he was used to being disappointed, but being so blatantly used?
unfortunately, scaramouche’s defiance was only met with a cold silence and a blank stare, and after he had vehemently denied to go along with the marriage, his mother had only said that nothing could be done. he had no choice in the matter.
and the gentle glint in her eyes, that had still remained their after all these years, that stayed as she firmly reprimanded him, only served to make him more furious.
and so, his resentment for you, the other victim in this situation, came naturally.
when he met you for the first time, his regularly crass and sarcastic attitude only got worse. you could see the embarrassment dawn on both your parents’ and his mother’s faces, cringing every time his voice got a little too loud or when he said something particularly blunt. he made snide comments on your upbringing, your title, even your clothing wasn’t spared the ruthless bite of his words. between his curt and cold attitude and your futile attempts at making conversation, you two didn’t exactly hit it off when you first met
and then, when you finally got sick of it and told him what exactly you thought of his words and his money and where he could shove them, his resentment turned into something much more personal: spite.
he reasoned that he had every right to hate you. to be overly rude and childish whenever you so much as got the idea to be five feet near him. he never asked for the marriage. he doesn’t care about how much it would benefit the two of you, and he’s long past trying to finally please his mother into loving him, so why should he have to act like the perfect husband for someone who is below him?
your parents seemed to love you plenty though. if their guilty eyes and shifty glances were anything to go by. even if they were shamelessly grabbing at the wealth and prestige of another family, he could tell that this marriage was meant for you and your future. even if you didn’t want it. even if you seemed to dread it. every time they brought you over for a scheduled date in the lonely garden at the back of the duchess’s estate, there seemed to be a subtle pain in their eyes.
perhaps, a paternal regret at having to make their child miserable so that they could eventually have the things they weren’t able to give them.
…well, it gave him more reason to torment you.
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there seemed to be no way out of the awkward meetings. your parents were hell bent on having scaramouche as your husband, and his mother was just as determined. so, when you did have to suffer through seeing each other, you kept trading thinly veiled insults, practically sulking every time you heard the others name, and bickering with the each other at every opportunity. it became a familiar routine for the two of you, to not get along and verbalize your frustrations through jabs and taunts
strangely enough, scaramouche grew fond of the bickering. you were practically the only person who would speak to him so casually. with so little respect and without fear of him blowing up. he thought it was refreshing. no one hardly ever talked to him anymore, and even a child that had everything and more could not curb his own loneliness by himself…he would never tell you that, though.
he thought that at least it was entertaining to tease you. actually, if you weren’t so annoying, he might have actually gone as far to say it’s pleasant having you in his company. It certainly beats the large, lonely house he had to wander every day.
plus, when was the last time he had talked this much? when someone had looked at him and acknowledged his existence without him having to work for it?
—————————
as the engagement progressed, you two ended up spending hours together every week, whether you wanted to or not, and while you were mentally and emotionally exhausted from the stress your parents were putting you through, he’s looking forward to your meetings like they’re the highlight of his week…it’s ridiculous, he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, and oh god now he can’t get you out of his head.
then suddenly, you’re calling it off. the whole engagement. miraculously, you guilted your parents into going back on what they had agreed to.
his mother is appalled and frustrated, a bit exasperated now that she has to find another suitable bride for her son.
scaramouche is beyond furious.
he goes quiet with rage. he’s more snappish now, towards the maids, towards everyone. his attitude is no longer his usual arrogance and crudeness. his usual bitterness rose into an explosive temper and ruthless training just to keep himself confined to a state of sanity. there is, once again, for the first time in many, many years, an unmistakable fear of abandonment that is raging in his head. he feels so wronged.
and it’s your fault.
and then, he goes silent. if they thought it was bad when he talked, see what they think when he’s quiet.
for his mother, it’s unnerving. to the servants, it’s downright terrifying.
no one realizes that he’s calculating. no one really expects it. everyone assumed this was one big temper tantrum after suffering a huge blow to his pride.
scaramouche was really only clutching his shattered heart after giving it to someone who threw it away.
—————————
what he wants at first is revenge.
that’s what he wants to think he wants. he wants to make things even between the two of you; make you suffer like you made him. force his way into your mind in the worst way possible, and keep himself there to get the message across.
for the first few agonizing days after the annulment, he thinks; maybe that he should tamper with your parents businesses and make you a pauper, someone who is reduced to having to take care of their parents after you fall from the graces of society. and then, after that, he’s hoping you’d come crawling back to him, and ask for his help and his hand. and he’d oh-so graciously accept you back into his life; not before making you beg for it, though.
then again, perhaps toying with whatever lover you have would be a good way to get back at you. he just assumes that you have one, because you must, for you to just abandon him like that.
you should have just stayed.
either way, he’s going to make you regret it.
—————————
it doesn’t take much for scaramouche to convince his mother to have a much needed talk with your parents.
and despite everything she’s done, ei does want to make her son happy. she wasn’t blind after all; he’s always seemed to be on edge, ever since the accident, but he had changed in the short amount of time he had know you. the boy she had failed to raise and care for, someone who was now so far out of her reach, seemed to be more calm and content when you were by his side. it had been a long time since she had seen her nephew look forward to something this much.
whether you want the engagement or not matters less to her.
—————————
and so, your resistance all comes apart so easily. Ei is one of the most powerful people in the empire, so it doesn’t take much effort before she’s luring your parents into throwing you back to them and into scaramouche’s waiting arms. It would be the least she could do as his mother
it’s only a matter of time before you’re resting in the palm of his hand once again; the engagement is back on, running smoothly towards your fast approaching wedding, like your little rebellious mishap never even happened
scaramouche is reveling in it. he feels as though he’s won. and in truth, he has. he imagines the look on your face, how you’ll have to greet him eventually, look him in the eyes after tossing him to the side and then losing, and thinks about how he’s going to make your reunion as painful as possible when you do meet again
his wishes are fulfilled when not even a month later are you pushed into the expansive garden by servants and abandoned by them even quicker, watching them scurry away with pale but oddly relieved faces. once again, you were meant to suffer through another lunch date after you thought you had finally escaped and left the gloomy estate behind forever.
the familiar stone pathway and expansive flora only served to bring back bad memories of your failed attempt to gain your freedom and reminded you of what you would have to look forward to for the rest of your life. it’s only the scuffle of boots against the ground that brought you back to reality.
you knew exactly who was standing behind you.
—————————
when scaramouche saw you standing there, muscles taught and shoulders tensed as you refused to look at him, he took his time observing you, savoring the moment and committing it to memory.
his slow and deliberate footsteps did little to calm your fraying nerves. You were both surrounded by tall hedges and the gentle sound of water coming from nearby fountains. no one else was around. You were completely isolated, with only your fiancé- no, your crazed future husband- keeping you company.
and as always, his presence was suffocating.
“you know, trying to run away from me was cute, but it got annoying after the joke was over. did you really think you could go against a duchy? don’t make me laugh.” his voice had a high and condescending lit to it that seemed to grate against your ears. your stony facade crumbled soon after, instantly revealing the confusion and panic that welled in your chest.
“…why did you do it?” your voice came out hoarse and low. you whirled around, finally looking into those violet eyes. scaramouche felt a shiver of excitement run up his spine as your watery gaze met his.
“you hated this engagement just as much as I did. why did you drag me back here? we both could’ve been free.” a bitter laugh escaped your throat that pathetically choked off into a sob.
he laughed lowly as his head titled down, shielding his eyes from you. the sight made you shudder involuntarily.
“‘drag you back?’ deary, you belong to me. you did the moment I decided I wanted you. what you want doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t know what’s good for yourself, clearly.”
when he lifted his head back up to meet your eyes, he was smiling. the soft turn of his lips wasn’t full of cruelty or malice, scorn or hatred, and somehow that made the uncharacteristically gentle look so, so much worse.
scaramouche picked up your limp hand, gently turning it over, and slipped a ring onto it. it was like putting a heavy shackle on a caged bird; it was needless and unnecessary, you were already trapped. the world did not need anything else but the duchess’s final word to let everyone know who you belonged to.
but, as you stood there staring blankly ahead, you noticed scaramouche seemed genuinely happy to see the band resting on your finger.
the smile he wore turned more playful, more mocking, as those piercing eyes looked at you as if you were pitiful and small, beneath him, something that needed guidance
and his purple eyes locked with yours as he slowly pulled you to him and brought you into a soft kiss.
—————————
“Give me your love. Give me your validation. Hand yourself over to me, body, mind, and soul.”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
“Darling, do you think you have a choice?”
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dkmbookworm · 2 months ago
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The more I think about it, it really isn’t out of the realm of possibility for Odysseus to say he loves calypso. Victims of abuse can still end up loving their abusers to a degree. Even if it doesn’t always make sense. Because there were likely moments where they were able to talk and bond. When he was going through a bad day with his thoughts and she helped him get out of it. It doesn’t mean that he forgives her for holding him hostage and keeping him from his family. But he only had her in that time when he’s at his lowest point.
I think at times that the fandom can underplay how much just being on the island is a torture in of itself. Even without calypso there. It represents a point where he is left only to his own thoughts. To replaying every single mistake, every selfish decision. Thinking through a million and one what ifs that could have kept them alive. Thinking of the 600 families out there that won’t get to see their men come home. Thinking of everything he did to get home only to be here. Like really think about how much that is running through his head, every second of every day. And the only person who you can talk to, who could take your mind off of those thoughts for even a second. Is your captor
“I’m not sorry for loving you” shows that Odysseus doesn’t truly get the satisfaction of being able to hate her. He likely even pities her or cares for her despite what she’s done
He does see her as a friend because of the circumstances they exist in.
He isn’t going to only remember the bad times. He will remember moments on the beach looking at the stars. Learning about her in those conversations. Maybe even finding her funny or charming. Moments of respite from the well of misery that he’s drowning under every single day.
And that’s the worst part of when you see the person hurting you as a person. And he is a monster, so who is he to judge. He has done horrible things in the pursuit of love, and maybe he can recognize that kinship in her.
Don’t forget about how “Monster” shows Odysseus finally going down that path of realization. Rather than it simply stating” I’ll be as brutal as any of my foes”. It starts with him humanizing them.
Is the cyclops struck with guilt when he kills, is he up in the middle of the night
Or does he end my men to defend his friend and then sleep knowing he has done them right
When the witch turns men to pigs to protect her nymphs is she going insane
Or did she learn to be colder when she got older and now she saves them the pain
We can see that Odysseus is able to give a strange level of empathy and understanding to his enemies while he becomes a monster. And there’s nothing to say he wouldn’t do the same with Calypso.
She is a lonely, isolated woman who has been imprisoned on this island longer than he can comprehend. Someone deeply naive and emotionally stunted from her life on the island. Desperate for love and companionship that he is unable and unwilling to give her.
Is it right? Absolutely the hell not. And as detailed in a previous post, still deeply insidious in the long term.
But this is Odysseus after he had sacrificed 6 men to get home, and then the remaining 36 after. Where he is constantly weighed down by those actions and seeing what becomes of someone who chooses to be a monster. To try and play the gods games and fail terribly.
They’re simply two monsters trapped together
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kel-lance · 7 months ago
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JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 2
Part 1
Warnings:- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.
Premise: Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 11 more chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)
“We’re done for today.” The large man reaches for his robes. You don’t bother to move. Just breathing hurt. It was his off day and he was deciding to break you in, deciding to keep you for however long you were durable. He was amused with your reactions. He liked it. He found it interesting how you were also trying to survive. He’d play along as your god now. 
You lay in the bed and his finger prints stained your skin, each strike created blots of purple and blue and green. You liked bruises before, it showed how you fought for it. 
You apparently woke up two days later, and he lets you rest. Your body finally turns off survival mode for a second, just a second to adjust to the warm room. Four walls, the nice smell, it was just another thing you weren’t used to. Stillness. It was boring. But under these circumstances you were glad to have your own padded room to deal with this.
The time you were left alone, you didn’t know how long that would be. Another hour or so you’d think he’d come back in, hearing as you’re up. Time for more torture, though do torture victims get a bed and tended to? It felt more like you were a sacrifice, meant to appease him, though no one handed you over. 
You were brushed, scrubbed raw, and even felt a bit of shame for the way you were living compared to the two ladies who were taking care of you. But you didn’t know how long they’ve been in this line of work. Hell they honestly looked like they were born into it with the cold looks in their eyes. They could care less about your well-being, though they found and scrubbed every inch of you. Of course you didn’t want strangers to look at you, especially after such a moment that brought you here. To be real, these twins are probably the only people who knew you more than anyone you currently knew. 
Friends? You had a few, some to help you out sometimes, some to let you crash at their place. It was all fair game to the people you knew. Life was never easy for them and they knew of you being a free spirit. You didn’t leech off of them for you’d always show up with something in exchange, usually something you stole but it would never get traced back, it was either too common (but useful) or just something that would never be brought out of shown off. 
You weren’t a bad friend for it, if anything you were the perfect guest, though this time you didn’t mean to give yourself away for a few nights stay.
“I gotta get out of here, but where would I go? These people have already seen my face and I can’t tell how many more there would be. I can’t request anything to learn the layout of this place and no one will talk to me. If I leave I’ll have to run further and faster than I already have been…” You ponder more, sitting at the table placed in front of the window. 
They’re smart enough to know what I’d do if I wanted to pick a fight with their lord, of course there are guards at more doors, even under the window out your room, and it’s safe to say that there’s even a guard at each vent that’s connected to your room. 
“Why does it seem like I’m so special?” You sit and open the window, the guard below moves from his post to observe you on the same side has the other posted to view you. You look down at then and offer a wave, saying you’re not doing anything stupid, but you just wanted some air. One of them leaves, probably to get Sukuna. 
“I bet he’s just a lonely loser and I just happen to fall into his lap, or maybe I was one of many and was the newest. The girls here looked like they could be in the same position as you, though why weren’t they? They didn’t look like they were his blood, and there was no way that he could be their dad. That would make things even worse since you’re close in age as the twins. 
You see the guard go back to his post, nonchalantly. “Weirdo.” You thought. Not even a second later your room door whips open. Jumping from your place at the table, you turn and see who other than the man with the unpredictable entrances. “Finally up?” He leans on the door frame. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic for that.” He teased, being strangely familiar to you.
“Dude…” You caught yourself about to tell off this stranger. All you’ve known from him is that he’s having fun taking you and making you a toy, that his name was Sukuna and how everyone seemed under his control. Not that they enjoy it, but it didn’t look like anyone, even in their numbers, would stand up to someone like him. 
It still wasn’t apparent for you. He only told you his first name, his last could tell you that you were in even more danger than any “normal” man doing this to you. It could be such a metaphor but you’re literally trapped in the best place you’ve ever been. Was that just life? all the bad comes up when you’re supposed to be happy, and realizing how good you’ve had it as it gets ripped apart in front of you? The balance of it all only comes with ignorance, which was also why you wouldn’t get attached. You didn’t run to one person for everything you didn’t need more than what you’d ask for and that wasn’t much. If they were lucky you’d be there for 3 days at most. 
You lost your voice, his presence set in, bringing you out of your (if you can all it that) relaxed state. He notices you tense up, the look in your eyes begging him to give your body a break. He huffs and saunters into the room, taking a seat at the end of the bed, the side that’s facing you. “You had some time to clear your head, now tell me what was your intention. Playing dumb suits that pretty face of yours… But that’s not why I’m here.”
You sure knew nothing about this guy. Other than his name and how his body looked. How he felt was different, it just happened so fast that you could only remember how it lingered in your belly after he left you the second time. It wasn’t something you can forget, those were the best orgasms of your life. “Sukuna… I’m serious.” 
“You expect me to believe that? Did I hit you too hard?” You almost wanted to laugh, you saw stars and colors you couldn’t before his knuckles contacted your skull. Lifting his hand from his side to place under his chin made you flinch, a bit too hard for his liking apparently.  It took a lot for you to muster standing up on your own, much less realize you had to get to the table by needing support from the wall. It was like you were in an ice skating rink and had to hold onto the walls for dear life, except there was no ice, it was just pain in your body not letting you level yourself out.
“When you’re ready to talk, I might hear you out. My patience is thin you already know.” He stands and closes your door, sent a shiver down your spine. Him not being close to you, or hurting you, having this quick visit was so unsettling. 
It haunted you for hours. He didn’t touch you. The edge of the bed where he sat still held an energy, like he left a part of him right there to keep watch over you. 
He definitely hit you too hard, you were thinking more outlandish things to go with this scenario. Like why didn’t the touch you? You thought he was going to keep a pattern, that maybe after this he would come in periodically to taunt you. That maybe his patience has worn out and he was going to get rid of you any minute now, or to use you again. 
The trauma you got from this certainly messed with your self soothing methods. Every time you catch yourself hitting your peak of your self imposed orgasms, you were almost wishing you had more than just your fingers. You didn’t want him, but seriously its already been 2 weeks. You were gonna go crazy in here. The girls kept bringing you your meals, and a bathroom is attached, though you couldn’t do much by yourself. 
You were to let the others feed and bathe you, and you honestly hated it. It was way too weird, you never talked to them, and they never tried with you so it felt like there was an agreement to just not speak about it. That none of you were here willingly. That gave you some insight. Your body healed itself enough that you didn’t need the wall to walk anymore, making your trips to the table in front of the window more frequent. 
You notice some sort of schedule Sukuna follows, as well as a few other noticeable men in this kind of gated community. Whatever he has gong on here, it felt like you were almost a stolen princess locked away in a tower or something. “You have GOT TO get a hold of yourself.” You didn’t need to see a doctor or someone, you were fully aware that these thoughts were just you daydreaming to escape reality, yet again. Though this time it was getting boring, you couldn’t help yourself, literally. 
At this point you wanted to even ask one of the guards if they wanted to come in and help you out, but you didn’t have to do that, because a day later you decided to act. Rolling around night time, you decided to open your window a noticeable amount. By then the guards usually leave one guard to patrol the grounds in each quarter. 
The ones outside your door either end up sleeping or one leaves the other for a bathroom break, some nights they both go, probably to blow each other you thought. It wasn’t any of your concern, they did it before when you could barely move, but now you were agile again, enough to move around without hissing at each moment.
 Placing your ear to the door, you heard light snoring through it. “Okay, just find his room you thought. You knew that it took about 60 steps to reach a stair case, then that would be about 24 steps down. You could hear his footsteps through the pairs of others who followed him, as his echoed with pace, and the others almost scuttled behind them like bugs.. 
You find your way slipping past heavy wooden doors, making sure it wouldn’t creak, you saw the walkway in the garden. You looked up and saw your room, you knew it was yours as it was the only one with the window open. you knew that the guard just left this fourth of his grounds. You were searching the area for his room. Peering through the windows, it would have been hard to tell if it was him, but his tattoos were honestly unique. 
None of them were him, you go back to the walkway, going down the opposite end, just blindly working your way through. You couldn’t just walk through any door, it could be your last mistake, it being Sukuna or not. But it just had to be him, you wanted so badly to find his familiar face and just, you don’t know. 
You decide to be more ballsy, there’s surely no way he’s be in the same quarters that has this many people,” you decide to take your chance with the left corridor. “I wouldn’t take him for a cuddly guy anyway.” 
Listen, you know it sounds crazy, but if you even got to escape, you’d be hunted like a fox, unnecessarily, and as a spectacle for others to watch. But if you could find him, and do it yourself, “I mean, at least I’d die with something, and what a funny way to go.” You loved to joke about these kinds of things. Anytime it seemed dark, you’d find yourself cracking a joke or going off an other tangents from the barrage of thoughts coming your way.
You hold your breath as you set your fingers around the doorknob, you pull it back slowly, and turn it, to silence any squeaks it may have. After turning it fully, you let it go back and unclenched your fingers to let it go a second time, making sure there was no noise from the metal trap, and decided to go in. 
What fucking luck you had as if you broke into another room you’d think your breathing would start to give you away. As you head towards the bed, the raising figure laying there was him. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark, so much so that you could just stand in front of him. 
Looking down at him you wondered what you should do. You’re not going to kill him, that’s one thing, though you had nothing to lose, you still liked your life and you enjoyed whatever adventurous you got yourself into. It was always just one thing after the next and you’d rest when needed, but you loved it. 
This was totally different though. Before it was like you were born into this work and have to abide by its rules. As of right now you could do /anything/. What else would you do? 
You look down at him, kneeling at the edge of the bed to face him. Looking at his face like this, completely defenseless, his harsh eyes weren’t poking at you or telling you exactly what he was thinking. No he was just, he looked human. Like if you were to have met him at any other place it would possibly be on a magazine cover or an army recruitment booth posted wherever. 
“Damn bastard is beautiful.” You thought. “I didn’t get this far to stop now. Fucking 2 weeks you keep me here and don’t do anything? Do you know how boring that is? You can’t just keep me here and forget.” All that time alone had gone to your head, did you forget how he treated you the time you met? 
Tbh it fades in and out, your memory’s cut up pieces of film that randomly plays an old memory, and since you can’t recognize it, you call it a dream. 
Nothing could take you away from where you were now. Looking over him, still not a care in the world. Nothing could wake him if he’d allow it. You cocked your head to align your eyes with his, and reach out and brush your fingertips across his jawline. 
How much of this could you enjoy before he kills you for breaking out? Just that thought had you slowly leaning in, your hand before tracing his face was leaning onto the bed to support your intrusion. 
First, you kissed his forehead. The poor fuck probably hadn’t felt the touch of a real lover in ages, he just finds and uses whatever and whoever he wants, whenever. Of course you didn’t pity him, but does he even know what being loved properly was like? You’re really one to be asking. 
You peck the smooth, hot skin, and kissed a line across his cheek, getting more sensual with the next. His touch, even sleeping was still so manly. His body was so, honestly the words seem odd, but he looked so edible. Like you almost couldn’t keep your lips off of him. He was so yummy when you get a good look at him. 
Cupping his face, your lips reach his, beginning to lightly stimulate the connection. You lean in further, applying yourself onto him, guiding open his mouth with yours as you lick his lips. This shit was getting you so excited, considering all that he’s done to you, having this moment, where you’re in control and he was at your mercy, and only you know this.
Continuing to make out with your kidnapper, you moved yourself to get on top of him. His lazy reaction of kissing back had you think he was a deep sleeper, god you really wished. 
You opened your eyes just to make sure he was still asleep, but his eyes were staring back at you, with the same look he always has. You didn’t have time to even make a sound before he had you under him. His hand grabbed your waist and turned kept you parallel to him as his leg pushed his body to get on top. 
You could feel his erection, he was basically stabbing your thighs with his head. His hands pushed your wrists into opposite sides of your head, and he has you immobilized as he sat on your legs. Most you could move was your toes and neck, but he had pressed his face up against yours. 
“I don’t even know where to start with you. If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve already. Maybe I can believe you’re just some random, …but you wouldn’t have come to my room.” He lets a wrist go to reel back and strikes your face as a warning. Seriously, no sane person would just come straight back to him in your situation.
“The guard fell asleep?” Nothing gets by him. You can’t tell if he was just prepared for everything or if he planned this out. The excitement you were feeling before was being clashed with the sudden shock to your face. “Depending how the rest of the night will go will determine his punishment.” 
Keeping everything in place, he moves your chin up by his nose, giving him space to start attacking your neck. “We’ll just start with yours.” His grasp tightened around each wrist, so much so that he was pulling on the tendons in your forearms, making your fingers involuntary curl. 
Your luck may have run out, but you weren’t as scared. Trying to enjoy the moment as much as possible, knowing fully well that you’re about to be eaten alive, and god, youve been waiting. His teeth grazed your collar bone, making their way back up, making themselves a known threat to your neck. 
“Speak.” He orders. “Who sent you?” 
“You still think I’m a spy?” The spot where he hit you was pounding, but it didn’t hurt. Other parts of your body were just pulsating along with your heartbeat, you knew he was going to take that as a sign of fear. 
“Hurry up, we have a meeting tomorrow so I’m trying to be considerate for everyone else.” 
He’s still not listening. You weren’t either at this point, finding his roughing up sort of endearing. Maybe he didn’t want to get blood on his bed, or maybe he did care about that stupid meeting. All you could feel was vigorous pulsating from your wrists, your face, your heart, and more than anything else, your pussy. 
This was literally what you came here to do, this was why he even took you with him wasn’t it? Seriously whatever big shot he thinks he is… this shit wasn’t legal; You were serious on going out with a bang, raising your hips to create some friction on his hard on. 
Sukuna seemed to notice the look in your eyes and gave you another firm slap. “Focus, doll.” He adjusts his hips a few inches too far down your liking, his hands being the only thing touching you. 
“Put it back.” You got this far, now he wants to start questioning you immediately after waking up? He picked you up after meeting and ignored you for two weeks, you’re about to do what most others would. Especially if they’re in the same situation with the same circumstances.
“You’re not the one to be giving orders, much less to me.” 
You raise your hips back up to his head, having it dip into you, crossing your clit but unable to enter fully. His tip could find its way in no problem, it was just his call, and that almost drove him over the edge. You’ve stopped fighting back, for something like your freedom and what’s better for you. 
What you were after now was just one more orgasm brought by that monstrous mf. He doesn’t drop his guard, or change his face at all as he accepted “your bait/distraction”. In this position, you’re still straight legged, laying in his bed as he has you held down, arms pinned, palms up, and legs trapped as he sat on your thighs. 
He could easily kill you now, but it would honestly leave a bad taste as no one’s been killed in his room before, much less even entered without permission. You both didn’t know what to think really. 
To you he’s some strange and strong asshole who’s been unclear if you were his sex toy or if you were “invited” and he was just being a terrible host. Honestly, it felt worse to you to have everything you needed; Without your freedom, you were honestly thinking it’d be better to be dead. 
To him, you were dangerous. You got it all right. From the room, to the person to bump into, to the alley. You could have been a spy laying low, from whichever gang he thought you were from, he thought it would be good to hold you off to send a message to see who would come collect you first. They wouldn’t send someone if they didn’t have something to say. 
At first he did just want to keep you until one of them sent them back another message. It didn’t matter what happened to you, honestly he got bored. He’s a busy man, there was really nothing else to say. 
So imagine his surprise how you came crawling all over him tonight. He knew an assassin would’ve done it before he even knew the door opened, they were to make sure it was quick. The attack would have had to been fatal, whether they succeed in one shot or have them die as they’re leaving. And how quick they leave is how desperately they want to live. 
You, just came in to stare at him and decided you wanted something else. And it didn’t seem like revenge. That was a first, especially for him. Right now he was allowing it, letting you go. There was no way you could harm him, he concluded. 
Looking down at you squirm and pout, upset on how close you were to getting what you’ve been aching from and for. He won’t drop his guard, but he sure as hell was silver platter served. Really how badly did you want it?
He connects your wrists at the top of your head with one hand, the other has its index finger and thumb at the base, controlling himself with those two fingers. He raises his erection and knocked it against your clit, the strikes sent waves of pleasure from your core to the top of your head and palm of your feet, having you whimper out. 
Your aching hole needed him, it was taking him so long. Seriously you wish he’d kill you now because this so actually torture. The only thing you could do was start to cry, tears leaving their corners and running into your hair. You were more than frustrated. Angry, horny, needy, powerless, you wanted it so bad you were losing control, it didn’t matter, no one else could judge you, and who would be worse than Sukuna?
“You came in here, climb all over me, just to cry now? You’re so pathetic.” 
“Please,” You whine. “I want you to put it in.”
His face changed, from laughing at you beg, to sharpening his focus. Even after all this, getting caught, threatened, insulted, you’ve started to beg for it. He takes his legs up from pinning yours, putting them to your sides as he aligns himself to your front hole. “Say it again.”
“Please Sukuna, put it in-“ He lowers his hips and dives deep into you. He watches as your head writhes. Instantly youre spread apart, the sudden plunge casted a warm blush across your face and electricity towards the tips of your fingers. “Oooh,” 
“Fuuuuuck.” He finished for you. He continues to grind deeply into you, quickly using his now free hand to gag you from waking everyone up. Good thing too as you were messy, fucked silly couldn’t cover it. You gave up control a long time ago. He wouldn’t kill you, not right now anyway, you especially wouldn’t let him without trying to get one last nut. It was diabolical how down bad he had you. It was more of your unhealed trauma and he just happened to be the best person to help you out, willing or not.
——————————————————————————
You lay there as the base of your back ached. Every part of your body was bruised again, you could only imagine to move again as you tried catching your breath. You had lost count on just how many times he’s forced an orgasm out of you, mind numbingly rich euphoria every time. Nothing else mattered, you were more than thrilled the first 2 times but started to wonder if he ever got tired. 
It wasn’t until after your fifth orgasm that he managed to get his first one in. You were honestly almost regretting climbing into his room but his second had him pinning you on your back as he lay on your lower torso and legs. You couldn’t feel anything but your pulsating cervix, half feeling good from the pain and lingering pleasure, the other half making you know that this was a mistake and the nausea was on you. 
Raising your free arm, you weakly start to pat his head. It was over, you insatiable perverted needs were fulfilled, so what were you going to do now? It’s not like you’re in love with the guy, you don’t even know if you’ll get to wake up tomorrow with this stunt. “It was worth it.” You thought. Running your fingers thorough his hair, and tracing his back, you fall asleep holding him, accepting that this is it.
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b00kdiary · 9 months ago
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Yours | Rhysand
Rhysand X Plus size reader
Y/N meets Rhys in a bar- one month after the worst night of her life. One month after he saved her. But Rhys has no interest in being a hero, and Y/N doesn't want to be a victim. They only want each other.
Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, allusions to SA/ r*pe, fluff, angst and smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
"For Cauldron's sake, Rhys," Cassian laughed, a husky, low sound. It interrupted my hazed thought, dragging me back to this room, with its incandescent lights and booming music. "You've been staring at her like a creep for hours, why don't you just go talk to her?"
I clear my throat, forcing boredom into my face as I roll back the sleeves of my navy shirt. My eyes move to stare at my brothers before me, both of them smirking, a knowing gleam in their dark eyes.
"No idea what you mean, Cass," I drawl, leaning back against the leather seat, my long legs spreading out before me. I curl my fingers around the cold glass on the table, a nonchalant smile tilting my lips as I bring the cup to my mouth and sip.
"No? So, you haven't been staring at the female sitting at the bar all night?" Azriel mused, his brow raised mockingly and the shadows around his shoulders dance with every word, as if amused. "The pretty one with all those lovely curves and the smile that could melt ice?"
My hand clenches around the glass at his words, just for a second, barely even long enough for anyone to notice- but Azriel does, he always does. I shake my head as his eyes twinkle, knowing he was goading me, talking about her to force a reaction from me and like an idiot, I fell for it.
"There are plenty of pretty females here tonight, Az," I counter, lying through my teeth with an easy smile. It takes every ounce of control in me, five hundred years' worth of control, to not look in her direction, to not be drawn back to her lovely form. "Why don't the two of you go bother them and leave me alone?"
Cassian snorts and my eyes narrow at him as he runs a hand over his stubbly jaw, his hazel eyes darkening as he glances at her- sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine in one hand while the other moved animatedly as she talked and laughed with her friend.
I felt a smile tug at my lips at the sight, at the bright grin and glowing eyes, that could indeed melt ice.
I can't help but look over her again, taking in her bouncing hair and plump, soft face. I ran my eyes down her body, over the dress that clung and moulded perfectly to every curve and dip and roll of flesh she had been blessed with.
"You're right Rhysand, we should go speak to one of the lovely females here tonight," Cassian nodded and as he began to rise from his seat, his eyes unwavering upon her, Azriel chuckled.
Under any other circumstance, I would have been laughing too, would have been utterly amused by Cassian's teasing, by the banter we always found ourselves in, even five hundred years later. But as he watched her, as that familiar desire lit in his gaze, something in me burned.
"Since you're not going to make a move on her brother, you won't mind if I-"
"Sit down," I breathe, low and sinister, and more than a few eyes turn to me at the vibration of dark power that begins to emanate from me as I glare up at Cassian. He smiles, victorious, and even despite the violence promised in my gaze, he doesn't relent. "Now, Cassian."
I could feel the Fae instinct in me scorching to life, that terrible, violent urge to hurt Cassian- he was my brother, my family, and yet the mere thought of him even looking at her, thinking about her in any way, made me want to tear his throat out.
"Now that we've established, you're a territorial prick and you are interested in her," Cassian beamed, unfazed by the intense and unfathomable power radiating off me, merely sitting back down and cocking his head at me. "Why don't you go talk to her? I've never known you to be shy, Rhys."
"I'm not shy," I bare my teeth at him, tendrils of jealousy and aggression still clawing at my chest. Cass and Az share an amused glance and I grit my teeth, choosing to chug back the remaining alcohol in my glass, before slamming it back onto the table. "I just don't want to make her uncomfortable, she might not want to see me."
"Why would she-" Azriel stops, and as usual, unsurprisingly, he connects the dots faster than anyone else would. Cassian furrows his brow at the contemplative look Azriel gives me. "The female you walked home last month- that's her?"
"The one with the boyfriend Rhys nearly killed?" Cassian scoffed, clearly remembering how furious I had been that night, how it had taken so much restraint and the both of them on guard to stop me from flying out to rip that bastard's head off. "Cauldron, I haven't seen you lose control like that in years."
"He was lucky- if the two of you hadn't stopped me and she hadn't begged me to leave it alone-" I grit my teeth, trying to extinguish the raw, scorching wrath still burning in my chest. My dark eyes turn to look at her, and as I take in her breathtaking smile, my chest tightens with the memory of that night.
The sound of her broken sobs, the way those bright eyes had shattered, filling with endless tears, how she had curled into herself, wilting like a dying flower- all because of him.
"Easy, Rhys, he isn't even here," Cassian cautions and I swallow thickly at the familiar feeling of the beast inside me rearing its head, the kind of violence and danger in me that only arose during the biggest threats, during the worst battles and now, in defence of her. "I've never seen you like this before."
"I know," I sigh, my eyes shut as I pinch the bridge of my nose, the tension in my body almost suffocating as I'm bombarded with the thoughts of that night, with the thoughts of her. "Fuck, I know."
"Go talk to her, Rhys, for your own sake at the very least," Azriel muses softly, and I can hear the unspoken words in his hazel eyes, the kind that told me to be happy, to stop putting everyone first and think of myself. "You never know what could happen, brother."
I inhale deeply, the strength of my brother's stares weighing heavy on me and yet again, my violet gaze drifts over to her and this time I don't ignore the magnetic force that pulls me in.
***
"Another drink, Y/N?" Lin smiles, her slim waist curving as she turns her long legs towards the bar, a sparkle in her eyes as she glances from the bartender back to me. "I know I need another one."
"You don't need to ply me with alcohol, Lin," I muse, cocking my head at her and she shrugs nonchalantly at my knowing smile, an innocent pout gracing her red lips. "I'm having fun, I promise."
"Are you though? It's been a long month and I just-" Lin sighs, her manicured nails coming forward and curling around my hand, settling our hold against one of my plush thighs. I smile at the worry creasing her brow, dimming the radiance in her eyes as she stares at me, "I just want you to be happy, Y/N."
"I am happy, Lin," I scoff, ignoring the ache in my chest, duller than it had been a week ago and yet still an ever-suffocating presence that loomed over me like a dark cloud. "But you know what you could do to make me even happier?"
"Tell me," She leans forward, her lovely face melting into an even lovelier smile, and her hand tightens around mine, an anchor that I'm glad for. "I'll do anything."
"Well, you can go and talk to that ridiculously tall and attractive male who's been ogling you for the last two hours," I drawl sarcastically, taking a pointed sip of my drink as she glances over her shoulder, her blonde hair bouncing as she locks eyes with him. "Don't think I didn't notice the two of you eye fucking from across the room."
She giggles, a purely feminine sound and I smirk at the way the male watches her, his blue eyes darkening into storm clouds, raking down her toned and slender figure like he could see through her clothes and Lin grinned like she knew it.
"But this is meant to be a girl's day, me and you and endless drinking until we're vomiting and regretting it desperately tomorrow," Lin groans and my shoulders sag at the conflict in her eyes- the pity. She didn't want to abandon me, and I hated it.
"I think I've had my fair share of drinks tonight; I'll probably head home soon-" I gnaw on my lip, already seeing the protest in her eyes, but when I raise a brow, glancing at that male again, she sighs, "Go, have wild sex with a hot stranger and then tell me all about it tomorrow."
I can see the anticipation in her body, and I force down the teasing remarks dying to come out as I take a sip of my drink, the burn as it slides down my throat distracting me from my own infinite loneliness.
"Or you could go find a hot male and have some wild sex of your own?" Lin giggles, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at me but I roll my eyes, slapping her hand and trying to usher her from her seat. "Fine, fine, but are you sure-"
Lin pauses, the words dying out on her lips and under the fluorescent lights her tan skin goes pale, her eyes widening in surprise as she glances, not at me, but past me.
"Hey, are you okay?" I laugh, my brows furrowing as Lin's eyes turn back to me and the smile that tugs at her lips is odd- knowing, giddy almost. "Lin, what-"
"I'm fine, incredible even, and you're about to be too, I think," She bites her lip, giggling as she lifts from her stool and onto her platform heels, her eyes shining like stars as she slowly backs away. "Have fun, Y/N."
"Okay, you too," I say slowly, half-laughing, half-confused as Lin saunters away, her hips swaying as she moves toward that expecting male. His eyes meet hers and the tension goes taut between them. "Don't drink anything he gives you!"
I laugh quietly to myself as I turn away from her, tucking my legs under the bar and shaking my head at her bizarre behaviour- it seemed Lin was more of a lightweight than I thought.
"Hello darling," A smooth, deep voice, like melted chocolate, greets me from behind and my body shivers at the easy sound, "Is this seat taken?"
"No, it's available, this one too I'm just about to leave-" The placated smile on my lips turns to a surprised 'o' as I toss my hair over a shoulder, my bright eyes lifting- and meeting with a constellation of violet.
Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court- and the male who had been there when I was at my lowest.
"High- High Lord," I stutter, my eyes widening and it's as if his presence spurs something deep in my chest and it has me shifting to sit straighter, my head angling up to meet his captivating gaze. "These seats are available-"
"Please, it's Rhys," He smiled, and I smelt the sweet aroma of night-blooming Jasmine and ocean breeze as he pulled out the chair beside me, his long, toned body elegantly taking a seat inches from me.
"Right, Rhys," I breathe softly, remembering how he had said the same thing that night. Though his eyes held more softness now, unlike that night no violence or death was gleaming in them.
"Can I get a bourbon on the rocks," I watch his handsome face glance at the bartender, and I can't help but run my gaze over him- the silken raven locks effortlessly tousled, the strong bridge of his nose, the tilt of his lazy smile, how he leaned back against the chair, his powerful form at ease.
"And another of what the lovely lady beside me is having."
My eyes snap back up to his at the words, and my cheeks burn at the sparkle in his eyes. The kind that told me he knew I was looking over every inch of him, and that I, like most females, liked what I saw.
"You'll stick around for one drink, I hope?" He questions, and my heart pounded in my chest as he leaned closer, his legs brushing mine and I felt the electricity of his touch lance through my entire body. "I could do with the company, darling."
Darling. The nickname made my stomach flip, the way it rolled off his tongue made it sound so erotic, sensual like he knew he could pleasure a female with just his words.
"One drink," I nod, swallowing thickly as the bartender places Rhysand's glass of Bourbon and my wine before us with a soft clink. "I suppose it's the least I owe you."
"You don't owe me anything, I hope you know that" His voice softens, his eyes do too, and I know he's picturing me as I was that night. Crying. Shaking. A mess. His throat bobs, ringed finger tracing the rim of his untouched glass.
"I know, but I want to," I manage a small smile and the heat of his eyes on me, I feel it over every inch of my skin. Not purely sexual but seeing, like he couldn't take his eyes off me. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for what you did that night, I really am grateful for you helping me-"
"Please don't," Rhysand frowns, and his body is stiff now. All the warmth, all the teasing, has vanished from his eyes. Replaced by one thing- sadness. "Don't make me out to be some kind of hero for that night, Y/N. Anyone would have done the same-"
"And yet you were the only one who intervened," I scoffed, and his face tightened. The violet turned dark like midnight. "So many people passed us, so many people saw him grabbing me, heard how he was speaking to me. They saw me crying, heard me say no-"
My back hit the wall. Arms caged me in.
'You're nothing but a worthless fucking slut.'
'No, no, please, don't,' I felt the side of my dress tear open, the cold wind prickling my skin.
'A fat bitch who never listens,' I could taste metal in my mouth, his hand clamped down on my jaw, pinning me down. 'A fucking tease, wearing this dress and then telling me no when I want to touch what's mine.'
'Please, you're hurting me,' He laughed as I sobbed, groping along my body, the smell of alcohol on his breath making bile rise up my throat.
I heard the sound of a belt unbuckling.
'Someone please help me.'
"Y/N," His voice was hoarse as he spoke my name, pained. And when he laid one of his large, ringed hands against my knee, fingers curling around my flesh, I released a tight, desperate breath.
"You saved me that night, you and no one else," I blinked away the burning tears and locked my gaze with his. Power thrummed from him in waves, and the shadows in his eyes told me he remembered that night as well as I did, that it haunted him too.
"Perhaps you're too humble to think so," I cleared the lump in my throat, throwing Rhysand a teasing smile, or as much of one as I could manage. "But as far as I am concerned you were my hero that night, Rhys."
"I don't think humble is the word my family would use to describe me, darling," Rhys's lip quirked, and I knew he slipped into a mask of charm and playfulness for my sake. It made the ache in my chest ease. "I think the words they would use are more along the lines of arrogant, cocky, smug-"
"Charming, charismatic, flirtatious," I continued with a sly grin, and as I brought my glass to my mouth, Rhysand watched every movement keenly, shadows eclipsing his eyes as my lips parted and I sipped. "Clever, witty, swaggering."
"Careful, darling," His eyes flashed when my tongue flicked out to collect the droplets of wine off my bottom lip and I nearly purred when his fingers curled around my knee tighter. "You're inflating my already massive ego."
"I'm not done," I mutter softly, setting the glass before me again. Rhysand raises a brow, and his chest is rising and falling so harshly now. "Alluring. Gorgeous. Seductive."
His eyes twinkled like a thousand stars bursting to life and I knew he could hear how my heart was thundering in my chest.
"I fear you've got us confused," He breathed, and my entire body felt alight as he swooped his thumb back and forth against my thigh, his touch so consuming it was as if he were touching my bare skin. His lip quirked as if he knew it. "Those are words that describe you, not me."
I scoffed out a laugh, rolling my eyes but I couldn't deny the way his words made me feel. The way he made me feel. Tracing over my bright eyes and beaming smile, down my neck and chest, across my stomach and hips and thighs, his power thrummed as he took me in.
"Did you come here alone tonight?" I angled my head at him, feeling hot under his stare. Again, his thumb didn't stop soothing against me, so soft I was starting to get dizzy.
"I came with Cassian and Azriel," Rhysand nodded over his shoulder, "It was actually them who encouraged me to come speak to you."
"Encouraged you?" I raised a brow, surprised and the chuckle that escaped him ran over my skin. "What happened to arrogant, cocky, smug Rhysand?"
"Apparently as Cassian put it, I became the creep who was staring relentlessly at a beautiful female for hours," Rhys drawled, and a surprised laugh burst from me at his words. He rolled his violet eyes, but I swear under these lights, I could see a tint of red staining his cheeks.
The High Lord of the Night Court.
The most powerful High Lord in existence.
Blushing.
"You're laughing at me?" Rhysand cocked a brow, hand coming to his chest in faux offence, " I've been mocked by my brothers and now by the female, I like. I'm wounded darling, truly."
The female I like.
Cauldron.
"Poor High Lord," I pouted, my delicate hand coming down and resting over his at my knee. I shivered at the feeling of his skin against mine, and his eyes flashed down to where we touched. "It seems you can't catch a break tonight."
"Oh, I wouldn't say it's been a total loss," He mused lowly, his eyes lingered on our hands, on how much smaller mine was compared to his before they lifted to meet my gaze. Shadows and stars. Utterly consuming. "I'm here with you, aren't I?"
"And I'm here with you," I smiled, and it was the most genuine smile I've had in a while. Rhysand's eyes softened as if he knew it too. As if he could feel my content right now as strongly as I could.
But it wasn't just content. As I stared at him, at this beautiful, powerful, captivating male before me, I couldn't deny the ache that spread through my core. Couldn't ignore how just his hand at my knee made my thighs clench.
His eyes fell to where my legs clamped shut and something wholly dark filled his gaze, something that made it impossible to hide my arousal. His throat worked, and I knew he could smell exactly what my body wanted.
"Would Cassian and Azriel mind if I stole you for the night?" I asked, soft, breathless, I couldn't get the words louder than a whisper. Because I was afraid- of rejection, of embarrassment, of saying it aloud.
But he heard me. I knew he did.
I saw the muscles in his thighs tense, his whole body turning hard as stone. Even that hand at my thigh seemed to turn stiff. His eyes met mine, his mouth parting- and then closing. Like he didn't know what to say.
"Oh," I forced out a strained laugh, humiliation burning through me as I sat up, pulling my thigh from Rhysand's hold and frantically looking anywhere but at him. "It seems I've read this whole situation wrong."
He didn't want me.
He was just being kind.
He was just trying to make sure I was okay.
Of course, he didn't want me.
"No, no, don't-" His voice was sure, strong. As I reached to grab my purse, his hand curled around my wrist, gentle but firm, keeping me sat where I was. I clamped my eyes shut, twisting my face so that I did not have to face him. "You did not read this wrong at all, not at all Y/N."
"Rhysand, it's alright," I mumbled, trying to pull my hand free from his hold, but he wouldn't relent. I heard his body shift until his thighs were pressed to mine and I knew he was inched from me. "You don't have to say anything, I understand-"
"No, you don't darling," He snarled softly, and my body shook when his hand came to my chin and turned my face to his. I blinked, barely breathing as I met his burning violet eyes so close to mine. "I can hear those thoughts running through your mind right now. Stop, stop and don't even dare think that for a second again."
His thumb brushed my cheek, and I couldn't breathe with how close he was to me. So close I could smell the bourbon and mint with every breath against my mouth, so close I could count the stars in his eyes.
"I would like nothing more than for you to steal me away tonight, to steal me away every night," He admitted, his voice stern and commanding. "Some very selfish, greedy, dark part of me has been staring at you all night picturing exactly that. Picturing just how we would spend those hours."
Low, sultry words that made my heart race.
"But?" I whispered, my voice shaking. My whole body was shaking now.
"But I do not want you to see me as a hero, to see me as some kind of saviour," His words were unsteady, pained and I hated the frown that tilted his lips. wanted to soothe out the furrow in his brow. "I don't want you to think you owe me this. I want you to want to."
I swallowed and melted into the touch, the callouses of his fingers at my face making me sigh. My hand curled around his wrist, strong and sure, and I met his eyes with certainty.
"I do want to," I said, louder this time, "You do not want to be a hero, fine. But I do not want to be a victim, Rhys. Don't try and make me one."
Surprise flashed in his eyes. And something else. Something akin to fire, like my words lit a blaze in him.
"Cassian and Azriel definitely will not mind you stealing me away tonight," He rasped, voice like gravel and my body shivered at the smirk he gave me. "Let me grab your purse for you, darling."
***
Walking back to my apartment with Rhys, it was hard not to remember that night.
How different it had been.
How I had been shaking and crying, wrapped in a blanket to cover the exposed skin revealed under the tatters of my dress. How Rhysand had been violently still, his eyes so black it was as if a void had sucked away all the stars in them.
And how that awful, pulsing black magic had coiled around his hands. The same black magic that had wrapped around that male's throat, that had ripped him off of me, dropped him to his knees and squeezed the air from his lungs until he turned purple.
I remember seeing Rhysand appear in a cloud of black smoke, looking like death itself.
My head spun with how he had looked at me as he guided me home, walking trembling step after step, and something so pained, so agonised had filled his gaze. I knew it was me and me alone that kept him from killing that male, it was his need to take care of me first that had quelled the unparalleled desire he had to destroy him.
And now, a whole month later, as we walked under the sheet of stars and moonlight above, I couldn't help how my stomach coiled, a mixture of nerves and excitement dancing through me.
"I'm sure it's not the kind of luxury you're used to," I smiled, turning the handle of my front door, and pushing it open to reveal the dark expanse beyond. "But this is it. Home."
The Fae lights in my living room flickered on, dousing the small space. I stepped inside, Rhysand's tall form ducking under my doorway as he entered. I couldn't help but glance to and from his face as I locked the door behind us, watching him take in my home.
It felt intimate somehow. Him being here.
"It's lovely," Rhys smiled, violet eyes bright as he took in the simple leather couch and oak table, the shelves full of books and ornaments. He glanced forward, to the kitchen attacked to the side, drink bottles littering the island.
"I don't really bring people back here, males I mean," I laughed awkwardly, my stilettos clicking against the floor as I led Rhys further into my house. "My roommate, Lin, usually has people, males and females alike over all the time."
"I'm honoured to be here, then," I stopped at the kitchen island, dropping my purse on the table. My eyes met his, saw them darken as a smirk lined his lips "And selfishly, I'm glad that you don't bring males back here."
"Why?" I breathed, my chest rising and falling in waves as he inched closer to me. Stopping close enough that my taut nipples brushed his hard chest. "Feeling possessive? I didn't think High Lord Rhysand was the jealous type."
"Oh darling, I am the jealous type. The possessive type too," He murmured, and my eyes fluttered when his hands fell to my hips, pulling me flush to his chest and kneading the flesh there. "Because when you're mine, you're only mine."
"And am I?" I tilted my head to meet his eyes and the look in my gaze made his fingers tighten at my hips. "Yours?"
"Yes, if you would like to be," His voice turned quiet, sincere. I smiled at it, at the softness in his eyes. "I would like you to be."
"I would like to be too," My hand came up and cupped his strong jaw, loving how he melted into the touch. "Especially tonight. Kiss me Rhys."
He groans like I'm going to be the death of him. And then his head is dipping, and those sweet, pink lips collide with mine.
Cauldron, I knew he could kiss. But this was better than I could have hoped for.
My back hits the island as Rhys claims me, lips moving slow and steady against mine, strong hands keeping me in place. My mind spins as he kisses me, working me through every lap of his tongue teasing mine, one hand moving to tilt my chin, before resting at my throat.
The marble at my back digs painfully, but I don't care, not as Rhys slips his tongue past my lips, wet and hot and exploring. He groans at the taste of wine in my mouth, and my pussy clenches around nothing at the heady sound.
"Rhys," I whimper at the feeling of his long, hard cock straining in his pants, and pulsing against my stomach. He kisses and nips at my jaw, and I can't help but rub against him, loving how he shudders.
"Darling, I suggest you stop doing that," He snarls softly, canines scraping my neck and his hands clamp down, halting my movement. "Unless you want me to bend you over this island and fuck you raw right now."
I moan at his filthy words, back arching when his hands shift down to cup and fondle my ass. He laughs, sinister and low, violet eyes flashing to mine and brightening.
"Dirty girl, you'd like that wouldn't you?" He muses, smirking as he kneads my ass, rings digging into me. "Perhaps another night. Tonight though, I'd prefer to be a gentleman and take you for the first time on a bed."
"I happen to have a great bed," I whisper, my hands on his chest, pushing at the corded muscle. He chuckles again, mocking me, but he does relent, pulling me along with him. "First door on the right."
"First you let me into your home, now your bedroom," Rhysand smirks at me over his shoulder, his large hand interlaced with my small one. My stomach tilts and whirls as he pushes open my door. "It must be my lucky night."
"Arrogant, cocky, and smug indeed," I roll my eyes, seeing his smile brighten when the lights in my room flicker to life. Before I knew it, we were inside, the door closed and locked behind us. Alone.
He must sense my unease because he turns on his heel, his face serene as he glances over my small room. The double-sized bed, the pink cotton sheets, the small dresser and cabinet and more shelves stuffed full of books.
"You like to read?" He muses, walking over to the bookshelves and running a long, slender finger across their spines. My breasts ached at the thought of him touching me with those hands. His eyes peered over a shoulder at me- dark like he had heard that thought.
"Yes," I managed to say, throat dry as I fiddled with my thumbs. "I was big on fairy tales as I kid. Now I like more... adult stuff."
"Adult?" Rhysand's brow rose and every inch of me was molten as he turned around to face me, leaning against my draw with his arms tucked into his slacks and his powerful body at ease. "Adult-like romance or adult-like females being pleasured six ways to Sunday?"
I burst out laughing at that and Rhysand's smile grew, broad and lovely at the sound. He made it so easy to be around him, made it so easy that the anxiety in my chest faded into nothing.
"The second," I said quietly, and the air turned still as I moved toward him, taking step after slow step. "Though I'm yet to experience it myself. Being pleasured six ways to Sunday as you so eloquently put it."
I stop before him. I place one hand on his hard chest, feeling his heart racing under my palms. And then I glance up, fluttering my dark lashes and praying this looks sexy and not creepy.
Again, he laughs.
"Allow me to remedy that for you, darling," He grins and when his hand cups my jaw, I let myself go slack against him. His lips against mine are heaven, I could kiss this male for the rest of my fucking life. He kissed me back like he shared that sentiment.
I stumble back with him, our teeth clashing and lips bruising as we kiss and my hands touch him everywhere- through his dark, silken hair tugging at the roots, scratching down his neck and broad shoulders, feeling his muscles ripple under my fingers as I claw at him.
My legs bump against the bed but instead of pushing me down, his hands move to my dress. To the ties at the back. He pauses, panting as he pulls his lips from mine. I groan at the loss of contact, nibbling on his teeth as he draws away. But he peers at me, and I can see all the questions in his eyes.
For a second, I feel different hands touch me. Vile and degrading and horrible, all over my body. I smell bitter alcohol, invading my senses, and it's almost as if I can feel the wind piercing through the rips in my dress just like it did that night.
But then I blink. And It's Rhys again. With that lovely smile and those kind eyes. With those exploring, gentle hands and those lips that taste like sin. It's Rhys. And he wants me.
"May I?" He mutters, brushing his lips across mine in the barest kiss. I sigh when his fingers rest on the knots at the back. If I gave him the word to stop, he would, no questions asked. That was exactly why I didn't want him to stop.
"Yes," I said, and my voice did not so much as shake. I met his eyes and showed him how I felt, how badly I wanted him and nodded again. "Yes, please."
Rhys smiled and his eyes never left mine as he tugged the strings at the back of my dress, something akin to adoration blazing in his eyes as it all came loose. I braced myself as his gentle hands tugged down the material, letting it fall down my body and to the floor.
I was in nothing but my underwear now.
Rhys didn't look down. His eyes stayed on me. My throat bobbed, but I nodded to him again.
It was palpable, the shift in his eyes the second they lowered from my face. Down, down, down. Over my bare aching breasts, over my perked nipples, across my stomach and hips, over all the fat there, and down my thighs, dipping between them as I clenched them shut.
Desire. I felt it vibrating off him in waves. Like he truly thought I was beautiful.
"I hate the doubt in your eyes right now, in your mind," He said softly, and my body shivered when he trailed one finger across my collarbone, and down my chest. "I hate that you can't see how perfect you are, how fucking perfect your body is."
I shivered as he traced his fingers over my taut nipple, a moan slipping past my lips at the feel of his callouses against me.
“It’s not easy for me to feel like that,” I whispered, my voice shaking as he cupped my breasts, pinching the nipple and letting the weight and feel of them fill his hands. “But it’s easier right now. With you, it’s easier to believe.”
Something shifted in Rhysand’s eyes at my words. It was almost emotional, like what I said meant more to him than I could ever know. I lifted onto my tiptoes and pressed a slow, exploring kiss against his lips. It was the kind that I had read about books, that I had dreamed about, his lips moved against mine and felt right.
His hands are sure as he guides me down to sit on the bed and not for a moment does he break his lips free from mine. Rhysand’s hands explore my body, kneading my flesh as he kisses and suckles down my neck, my moans mixing with the wet sound of his mouth against my skin.
I’m not sure I’m breathing as he runs his hands along my hips and thighs, mouth smearing spit and scraping teeth against my breasts. His fingers hook under my underwear and within seconds it’s tugged down my legs and tossed to the floor.
I flutter open my eyes and something molten spreads through me.
Because Rhysand was on his knees before me. And it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
“Do you like me this, darling?” He muses, purely male satisfaction on his face as he drags my supple thighs apart. His eyes drop between my legs, to the swollen wetness there and he moans. “High Lord of the Night Court, bowed before the prettiest cunt he’s ever seen.”
I feel like I might climax just from his words. Just from how fucking feral he looks as he takes in my wetness, his hands at my thighs bruising as he keeps my legs apart.
I rest back on my hands, my arms shaking as Rhysand’s smug face inches closer and closer to the apex of my thighs, the violet in his gaze almost as dark as midnight as my arousal fills the air. I’m burning hot, everywhere and the anticipation is killing me.
But mercifully Rhys is no tease. He doesn’t have the patience for it tonight.
“Rhys,” I moan, my toes curling when his head dips between my thighs and he licked a broad stroke up the length of my cunt. Taking all the wetness from my entrance and smearing it up to my swollen clit. He does it again, growling, and I can hear how wet I am.
“Relax, darling,” Rhys murmurs and I gasp in surprise when his hands hook under my thighs, tugging me to the edge of the bed- and then he goes feral.
“Cauldron, oh my- Rhys,” My body is shaking as Rhys tastes me, his tongue flicking over my bundle of nerves again and again, so hard and fast I can feel the pleasure down to my toes. He groans as he does so, the sound vibrating through my core and making my head spin.
My eyes close, my arms give out and I’m lying on my back, arching against my sheets, Rhys holding my thighs and hips like a boulder. He doesn’t relent even as my cries grow erratic, his tongue slipping down to fuck into my hole, hot and warm and knowing exactly what he’s doing.
One finger slips in. and then another. And another.
Three fingers and I’m clamped around him like a vice, his fingers fucking into me, his tongue suckling at my clit, my moans, his moans- it was dancing through the room like a symphony. It feels like minutes before that pit in me starts to grow and I know I won’t last long; I don’t want to last long.
“Rhys, please-“ I don’t know what I’m begging for. But he does, he knows what I need. Because his lips close around my clit and those long, graceful fingers curl up into a deep, spongey spot inside me, hitting a button that makes me scream.
Searing hot light burns through me and I can feel Rhys grinning against my cunt as my orgasm hits me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I cry his name again and again, my body on fire as he buries his fingers inside me, still sucking and nibbling on my clit. Dragging out every last inch of my climax.
“Rhys, Rhys-“
He chuckles, like a smug bastard, lips plucking back from my swollen clit and those three fingers slipping out of my pulsing hole. I shudder, sweat coating my skin and when he finally unhooks his arms from my legs, I sag to the bed, panting.
My eyes are closed and all I can do is catch my breath as tendrils of my orgasm coil through me, disappearing inch by inch.
The bed dips around me and I feel the familiar power and warmth as Rhysand ascends over me, two hands braced on either side of my head, my thighs wrapping around his waist. I blink my eyes open, seeing a constellation above, and the sweetest smile.
“Hello, darling,” Rhys smirks and I chuckle as I take in the pleased expression he wore, loving me so strung. He lifts one hand, brushing the damp hair from my face and I croon when he runs the pad of his thumb over my mouth. “Do you want to stop?”
“No,” I say immediately. Something almost terrifying drapes across his face as I take his thumb past my lips and into my mouth, twirling my tongue around the digit and staring into his eyes. He plucks it free, looking like he could devour me. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Alluring. Gorgeous. Seductive.” Rhys muttered, voice like gravel and my entire body purred when he knelt back on my bed and began to undo his shirt. “Definitely the words to describe you, Y/N darling.”
I stay silent as I watch him easily undo one button at a time, the graceful movements of his fingers almost sensual as more and more skin, covered with dark whorls is revealed to me. I’m breathless as he tugs off the material throwing it off the bed, captivated by the lean, hard muscle, and the slender dip of a v-line at his waist.
He grins down at me as my hands come up to his chest, muscles flexing as I claw down his pecs, teasing his nipples, scratching his abs, tracing the faint dusting of hair all the way down to his slacks. His eyes burn into me as I fiddle with the ties, tugging the front of his slacks loose to free his length straining inside.
I undo the last button and my pussy clenches as his cock springs free, slapping back against his stomach. It’s the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. Long and thick, veined and tan, small beads of pre-cum slipping down the head and dropping onto my thigh.
Not sure I’ve ever had a female tell me my cock is pretty before, darling.
The sound echoes through my mind and I jolt at it, surprised. My eyes meet his, see them twinkling and every atom in me throbs when his hands wrap around his length, and he pumps himself. I whimper, his eyes on mine watching me fall apart at the sight of touching himself.
Fuck me, Rhys.
I send the thought out to him through my mind, not knowing how it works but hoping he would get the message anyway. He did- I could tell just by how hard he fisted himself now, his pre-cum spilling down his hand as he stroked up and down.
You need it, darling? Need me? He teased through my mind, so arrogant it made me scowl at him.
Yes, asshole. I hissed, and he laughed aloud, eyes bright with amusement. I need you, fuck me, please.
He groans and I’m grinning as he leans forward, bracing his palms on either side of me, his powerful body atop of me now. I felt small under him, felt like I was completely at his mercy and that feeling seemed to make me even more wet.
“Wrap your leg around my hip, darling,” Rhys said softly, and I was more than eager when he guided my thigh up, wrapping it around him, fingers splaying over my flesh. “Wanna get as deep as I can into this sweet pussy.”
“Rhys,” I whined, my eyes fluttering as he dragged his tip through my folds, the pressure against my swollen lips and sore clit making me feel like I might explode. “Rhys- please-“
He slips his tip into me. And my eyes roll as he sinks and sinks and sinks into me. Inch after perfect inch. Stretching me so fucking wide that my head starts to spin. He stops when his hips meet mine, maxing out and I swear I feel the shape of him imprinted against my stomach.
“Fuck, you’re wrapped around me so tight,” Rhys curses and his fingers tighten around my flesh. I tilt my neck up when his lips meet mine, desperate and needy for the feel of him, the taste of him, as the pain between my legs slowly eases to mild discomfort.
“Move Rhys,” I claw up his chest and shoulders, burying my fingers in his hair.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” He mutters, groaning as he slowly pulls his length out, my wetness making it so easy for him to move. I moan at the tendrils of pleasure that spark through me as he drags himself out and then in, again and again, barely moving.
“I can handle it, Rhys,” I force his eyes to meet mine and I know he’s holding himself back. For my sake. I roll my hips, and the moan that escapes him as he slips in deeper makes my toes curl. “Move, Rhys.”
Rhys snarls low in his throat. And then he pulls out to the tip before shoving his cock inside me in one full stroke until his hips slam against mine. I cry out and it’s almost euphoric how good it feels.
“That’s it,” He praises, jaw clenched and muscles hard as stone as he rolls his hips into me, hard and fast, tip brushing against my walls in a way that makes me endlessly moan. “Feel how good you fit around me, darling.”
I whine at the filthy words he snarls into my ear, canines nibbling at my earlobe as he fucks in and out of me. He lifts my leg higher up his waist and our moans sync when he sinks into me, so far, I can feel him hitting the back of me.
“Oh Rhys,” I cry his name again and again, his cock inside me feeling so full, every stroke stealing the breath from my lungs.
He ruts his hips up to meet me, the sound of him fucking in and out of me, so wild and demanding, is like music in the room, mixing with our moans, our low curses, and the way our hands wander over each other, unable to get enough.
“Look at me, Y/N,” Rhys commands, and I gasp, eyes fluttering open when his hand clamps around my jaw, tilting my neck to meet him. I see the darkness and depravity and need burning like fire through his eyes. Watching my face twist, my eyes roll as he fucks me, skin slapping skin.
“I’m so close, Rhys-“ I babble, back arching and my hand curls around his wrist still holding my jaw. My insides feel like mush as he hits that button inside me again and again. “I’m so fucking close.”
“Yeah? You gonna come, darling?” He taunts, and I nearly start sobbing when his hand moves from my thigh, between our bodies and starts rubbing erratically at my clit. He laughs, like he fucking loves it, loves seeing me fall apart, “That’s it, come for your High Lord. Wanna feel you milk me dry.”
There’s something so commanding, so burning and domineering in his words, in those star-flecked eyes that when he dives his hips into me again, when his thumb flicks at my clit, my entire body erupts with my orgasm.
“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys-“
I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body bucking and writhing against his hard muscles as release ripples over me like a tidal wave. Rhysand grunts as I clench around him, suffocating his cock inside me, the orgasm hitting me and lasting longer than I’ve ever had.
“Just like that,” He pants, and I feel his movements become sloppier, more erratic, more careless, driven to the edge by me coming around him.
My body trembles with the aftermath of my orgasm, edged on by the way Rhys still moved in and out of me, chasing his own high. And when his forehead rests against mine and he groans, guttural and heady and low, I know he’s found it.
My eyes blink open, desperate to watch him fall apart. And it doesn’t disappoint.
I watch, breathless, as Rhysand tips his head back, exposing the strong column of his throat and the sound that escapes him, the guttural moan, as he stills inside me has the walls of my room shaking. Pure, unfiltered power radiates from him and my pussy throbs as he spills inside me, hot and wet and endless.
I can’t tear my eyes off him as his orgasm fades and I’m smiling as he sags against my body, the both of us sweating and panting, melting into the other’s embrace.
He stays seated inside me and wraps his arms around my body, sinking into my warmth and softness and looking more than content. He sighs, pressing a kiss to my lips, once, twice, a smile curling his lips when I giggle.
“Darling,” Rhys whispers, his eyes tender as he lifts onto his elbow to meet my stare, “I meant what I said before. I want you to be mine. And not just tonight.”
There’s an ache behind my eyes as he stares at me, looking at me with so much adoration, so much love that I feel like he’s wrapped a hand around my heart and squeezed.
“I want that too,” I whisper back, cupping his jaw. He presses a kiss to the inside of my palm, grinning.
“As a gentleman, I should ask then,” He teases, inching his face closer to mine and resting his forehead against me. “Will you go out with me?”
I snort, eyes creasing as I laugh and Rhys beams at me, peppering kisses at my jaw and lips as I giggle.
“Yes, Rhys,” I say softly, drowning in those wonderful, tender, violet eyes. “I would love to go out with you.”
__________________________________________________
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Taking requests for all SJM men x plus size reader!
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street-smarts00 · 7 months ago
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I have a request for a drabble or headcannon style thing, whatever you prefer. Where spencer and reader are very close (friends or dating you can decide) and he makes a fatal mistake on the job that gets reader killed 😳 if that is something you will do 🥰 thank you
(Long) Drabble: Doubt Comes in
Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!reader
A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! Normally I don’t like sad endings lol BUT this request gave me the motivation to write something with this idea I’ve had. I almost made it a full one shot but didn't know how. (if you like Orpheus and Eurydice, see if you can catch the hadestown references)
Warnings!: Sad ending/ANGST, Murder, death of a loved one, mentions of kidnapping, anxiety and questioning reality
Its kinda long for a drabble but not long enough where I would call it a one-shot, i got carried away but hope ya'll like it!
The team was working on a case with an unsub that was targeting couples. The team didn’t realize that the unsub had been stalking them since they arrived. He quickly learned of your relationship with spencer. 
You were leaving the precinct to follow up with a victim's family member when the unsub had snuck up on you. After you went missing the team went into a frenzy and tracked your location to an abandoned warehouse. 
When they arrived on the scene they had the unsub on the phone. He claimed that you were safe and unharmed. 
He said you were free to go but only one member of the team could go get you. He demanded they send in her boyfriend. 
Hotch was hesitant to send Spencer in. He was in shambles ever since you went missing that afternoon. His mind was scattered, he couldn’t think of anything but you. 
They figured while this was exactly what the unsub wanted, it was their best chance to get you out safe. 
Spencer was handed the phone and headed towards the warehouse. The building was dimly lit, it was so dark he could barely see 5 feet in front of him. The place was filled with storage and pallet rack shelves turning it into a maze. 
As he made his way through the building the unsub would give him directions if he strayed too far from the path. It was like the unsub had eyes everywhere, he must’ve either had cameras or was positioned on a hidden upper level. 
While Spencer was walking the unsub would taunt him through the phone. Asking questions about your relationship. 
It made him sick. He never said anything to the man on the other end of the line; didn’t want to give the unsub the satisfaction of knowing he was in shambles.
It felt like he had been walking for forever when he finally reached you. You were curled up in a corner of a dead end. When you saw him you jumped up and landed in his arms. He felt you trembling against him and it made his heart crack. 
“You said you would let her go if I came to get her,” he spoke into the phone with a shaky voice. 
“And I intend to keep my promise. You both are free to go. Except, she must walk behind you. You cannot not turn around under any circumstance until you both are out of the building.” 
“What will happen if I do?” 
“Let’s just say you’re wearing a kevlar vest and she’s not. If you turn around, speak, or hang up the phone, I shoot.” Spencer's stomach dropped. “And don’t even think about being a hero and giving her your vest.” 
“That's all we have to do? And we can go?” You asked, voice horse from not speaking in hours. 
The voice on the phone spoke again. “You’d be surprised how many men can not resist the temptation. The worst temptation you’ll ever meet, the one that lines between your ears and behind your eyes.” 
It seemed like a simple enough task. To walk out of the building. Spencer trusted you to be there and you trusted him to keep his eyes ahead. 
He placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise I-“ 
“I know. I love you,” You interrupted. 
“I love you,” he spoke softly before leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was trying to savor every last bit.
You both separated from the kiss and started your journey through the warehouse. This time the unsub wasn’t giving him directions to find his way back. At first he didn’t need them, with his eidetic memory he could recall the pathway he took. 
But as he kept walking the anxiety started to eat away at him. The darkness was messing with his eyes and the silence was deafening. He started to make wrong turns, forgetting which path to take and doubting himself. Either he was getting lost or the building was getting longer. 
The only thing that brought him comfort was the sound of your footsteps behind him. Or was that his footsteps? He didn’t know anymore. 
It felt like his senses were working against him. He already felt like an idiot with his mind not being able to think straight due to your disappearance. But now your life was in his hands and they’ve been trembling since he walked in. 
The logical part of his brain told him there would be no reason for you to not be behind him. But the anxiety running around in his head was questioning if you had ever been there at all. Or why would he let him win? Why would he let her go?
He had thoughts pounding in his mind of “Is this a trap that's been laid for me? Is this a trick that's been played on me?”
After what felt like a lifetime he made it to the front door. His footsteps picked up and he grasped at the handle to feverishly push the door open. 
Spencer walked outside as a wave of relief washed over him. They finally made it. 
He turned to face you as the corners of his mouth perked up. He met your eyes, shining with glee that you made it out safe. 
Then it got loud. He heard gunshots vibrating against his eardrums. Your eyes went wide as saucers. You grasped at your abdomen before you crashed into Spencer. 
How could this happen? They made it out. He said he would let them go. And Then Spencer saw it. 
You hadn’t made it out yet. 
He turned to look at you before you crossed. You both didn’t make it out. You got hurt, and it was his fault. 
He held you close to him. The surrounding sounds all blended together. Morgans screams for a medic, the officers breaking into the building. That all fell on deaf ears. 
It seemed as though his whole life fell apart when he saw you mouth his name as the light disappeared from your eyes.
Your life was in his hands, and he let you slip away.
“Eurydice, dying now a second time, uttered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?” ― Ovid, Metamorphoses
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igotanidea · 1 year ago
Text
Cheater - part 2
Tumblr media
part 1
Warnings: SMUT -MINORS DNI PLEASE! heavy angst, heartbreak, poor life choices, trauma, drama
A/N: special thanks to @90s-belladonna - I kinda heard your comment :D, and sorry for all the spelling mistakes, it's waayyyy past midnight here but I just had to finish it.
Ok, here we go people. Get ready for angst in 3....2......1.....
***
„You sure as hell moved on pretty fast.”
“Come on, Dick, it’s been three months. Do you seriously expect me to cry over a guy who, may I remind you, cheated on me. And who, may I remind you as well, you wanted to beat to shit cause of that?”
“Hey, I’m just saying” Dick raised his hands in surrendering gesture “it’s just nice to see you smiling again.”
“Besides.” Y/N gave him a warning expression “Kyle and I are just friends. We are having fun together, but he is a freaking green lantern. Here one second and on the other side of the galaxy the other. You cannot quite rely on a guy like that to get into a serious relationship with.”
“Mhm, sure. Someone should probably tell him you think so.”
“Why?”
“Cause I can see the way he looks at you.”
“Which is how exactly?” the girl turned around, facing Dick, her eyes showing nothing more but a confusion.
“Like you are a piece of meat, Y/N. He surely wants something more than friendship.”
“Who? Kyle? He’s a resident flirt. He’s not treating me seriously, and neither do I him.”
“Right, whatever you say.”
“You are being paranoid Dick. I know you want to protect me and I appreciate that, truly” she put a hand on his shoulder making him look straight into her face “but I’m fine, I promise. And if anything wrong were to happen I know where to turn. You may have slightly different judgment, but all I’m asking is a little bit of trust. Can I have that, Dickie?”
“Fine! Fine! Have it your way. But. If he does anything. I mean, anything you don’t like, you tell me, all right?”
“All right, Mr. Vigilante. Even though with all the batman training I could probably kick his ass myself. But I promise.”
“Good. Have a nice date then.” he laughed leaving the room.
“It’s not a date!” he yelled after him
“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, sunshine!”
***
After learning what Jason did (who was irrelevant at the moment) Y/N swore to herself she will not succumb into depression and bad thinking. Nope. It was not her fault, she was the victim and there was seriously no reason to dwell on the past. It hurt, sure it did, she loved him after all and such feeling cannot just be turned off, but slowly with Babs, Cass and Steph help she got back on her feet. This entire situation was particularly hard for Dick, since if nothing else Jace was his brother, but he was Y/N’s biggest support as well, helping her get her mind of things by giving her some serious vigilante training and let her join the team on the field. He would never do that under any other circumstances and Y/N appreciated that in every way possible.
So yes, after a month or so, she started to heal and let go, opening herself to life and putting her extra energy into patrols and night work. And that was how she met Kyle. It was actually quite easy. One day, on the titans meeting, while Y/N was discussing the details of newest mission with Donna he just dropped by, apparently because of some mission, and the girl instantly caught his attention.  And given the fact that Kyle had a relationship with Wonder Girl it made it easier to push through to Y/N.
“So, who’s your little friend, Donna?” he asked, tilting his head and eyeing Y/N carefully.
“I’m sorry, who are you calling little, green?” Y/N scoffed “just because you ego is sky rocket high, does not mean I will let you diminish me.”
“All right, there’s no need to get defensive. You just seem like the newest member of the team and that makes you …. Well, little. Unexperienced. A greenie if I may say so. ”
“Kyle….” Donna warned the boy, but he let those words go.
“No offence here, little one, but maybe you should just go home and stay safe. Earth has many protectors who are way more qualified to do the job.”
“Ok, that’s it.” Y/N came right at him, before Donna or any other member of the Titans could stop her. He knew exactly what green lanterns were capable of so with just one perfect swing, turn and kick she managed to grab his ring, with which he was recklessly playing. Once her fingers clutched around the source of the boy’s power, taking him completely by surprise, she threw some of her shurikens in his direction, the force of the flying object, pinning Kyle to the wall.
“Hmmmm” he muttered easily breaking free and humming in admiration “I may have underestimated you.” he reached his hands toward her “I don’t think we were properly introduced. I’m Kyle Rayner, and who may you be, sunshine?”
***
Their relationship was rocky. There were teasing and playing on each other’s nerves, but also quiet moments together when no words were needed to fill the silence. There were fights and banters, but also supporting each other and tending to each other wounds. Y/N missed the fact that this was pretty similar to the other relationship she was before. Guess the girl had a type. But still, Kyle was just a friend to her. Maybe even a frenemy. Nothing more. Nothing. And that was why it was so hard for her to believe the truth behind Dick’s words. Did Kyle see more to their talking and meeting than it truly was? Did he want … more?
It was a bit too late to wonder about that, but her mind was just fixed on this thought.
Was that why he asked her out for tonight. Truly, Y/N believed it was just a casual outing, especially when he mentioned the possibility of his female friend joining him. Y/N was convinced, she was supposed to be the wingwoman and said friend was the one Kyle had his eyes on, but now, as she recollected how the guy asked her out, she realized how wrong she was all this time.
“Hey, Y/n” Kyle grabbed her waist from behind and not giving a damn about her kicking and screaming to put her down, spun her in the air “how about we go out next Saturday? Hm? Come on, say yes, you know it’s impossible to deny this handsome face.”
“First of all, get your hands off me, Rayner! And secondly, why would I say yes to you. You are a terrible person.”
“hmmm. You’ll get dinner for free, and perhaps a flower? How is that for an incentive?”
“That sounds better. I may be friends with a billionaire son, but still had to cut on expenses. How unfair is that?” she scoffed
“It’s settled than.” Kyle smirked “I’ll pick you up at 6 p.m., little one.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“Not a chance” he bend over and pecked her cheek so quickly it was like it never happened “Oh, and one more thing. I have this one friend, who recently started going out with some new dude. She says there’s a bit awkwardness between them, though she paved over the reason. Anyway, I thought maybe we can show those two how nice and friendly it can be between a man and a woman?”
“Oh, so now I’m a woman?”
“Hush, little one. What I meant was that Artemis and her guy may be joining us, hope you don’t mind? We can still have….. “ he hesitated, his eyes fixed on his face and he had to fight an urge to lick his lips “fun.”
“I don’t really care who joins us.” Y/N waved her hands around dismissively “can I just go now?’
“Sure. I’ll see you soon, pretty.” He threw her directions and took off flying.
“Showoff.” She mumbled under her nose.
BUT WHAT THE HELL DID HE CALL HER?! PRETTY?!
***
Yes, she obviously misjudged Kyle’s intentions over her and that came out painfully clear when he knocked on her door, all dressed up, looking.. well, as much as she hated to admit it, handsome. Thank god, she put on a clear pair of jeans and her best shirt. Otherwise she would fell terribly underdressed.
“Hello, little one.” He smiled his signature flirty smile and handed her a single flower.
“One flower?” she raised an eyebrow taking it from his hand “what am I supposed to do with it? Smell and swoon over your charm?”
“told you it was gonna be a single one.  Were you expecting more?”
“No.” she shook her head “let’s just go, all right. I’m actually pretty hungry and the sooner I meet that friend of yours, the sooner I will be free of talking to you.”
“Always a pleasure to be the one to be used by you.” Kyle grinned and motioned her to the car.
“SHUT UP!”
“You look so cute when you are flustered.” He cooed “now come on, get it the car. Are you waiting for me to open the door for you? Cause that may take some time.”
“I’m just reconsidering if my hunger is really worse than the pain of being in your company…..” she pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering what she just got herself into “Fine. Fine, I’ll get in. But just to be clear, I’m ordering the most expensive dish on the menu.”
“Which would probably be a burger and fries, but whatever you say, little one.”
“I HATE YOU, RAYNER!”
“Yeah, I love you too, Y/N.” he teased playfully, but somehow his tone was a bit different than usually.
Oh, she was terribly wrong with judging his intentions, and hell, apparently Dick was right. 
***
Once they arrived at the destination, Kyle quickly noticed his friend already sitting in one of the booths. Her red hair were obviously distinctive so there was not a chance to miss the girl.
“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Artemis, one of the biggest mischief there is. Artie….”
“Don’t call me Artie!”
“…. This is Y/N, the girl who though she could beat me the first time we met. Hopefully now she realizes how wrong she was.”
“Hi!” Y/N decided to ignore Kyle’s words and focus on the other girl, instead “I’m Y/N. Good to see I’m not the one who gets called by him.”
“That’s annoying, isn’t it? Maybe we should join forces in kicking his ass?” Artemis smiled
“Bet that would be a shame for him. Can you imagine? Beaten by two girls?” both of them laughed. This Artemis girl seemed nice.
“Ok, ladies, enough of your silly dreams. Where did you lost your boyfriend, Arty? Cause my girl mentioned something about trying to leave me broke and I can’t wait to see her try. How long will we have to wait for him?”
“He just went to the bathroom. Something about bracing himself. You can’t possibly realize how  much effort I had to put in dragging him out tonight.”
“Girl, can we switch guys?” Y/N laughed “I would kill for a man who’d rather stay at home than make me go out.”
“Hmm, nice try, but I’m not giving up Jason so easily.”
“Jason?” Y/N froze for a second. No. No, this could not be…..
“Oh, there he is. Hey, Jace!” Artemis waved her hand in the direction of a black-haired guy. With a white strand of hair in the middle of the forehead. “We’re here.”
“Rayner.” Jason muttered, slipping into the booth.
“You never mentioned you were going out with Jay Todd!” Kyle laughed loudly “that is a hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Wait, you know each other?” Artemis’ gaze switched between two boys
“Long story full of hate and friendship.” Kyle laughed again. “Anyway, Jason, I’d like you to meet and probably get jealous of the pretty girl I came with tonight. No offence to your girlfriend present.”
“None taken.” Artemis shrugged and snuggled closer to Jason.
Jason, whose gaze travelled toward Y/N.
And then he realized and his eyes turned wide.
And what was even worse, she realized too. The girl who was so nice and sympathetic was also the one, Jason cheated on Y/N with.
“Hey, are you two all right there? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Yeah, we’re fine.” Jason stuttered, not really convincing anyone.
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
This was sure as hell going to be a fucking interesting night.
***
The tension could literally be cut with a knife.
At least for Jason and Y/N since Kyle and Artemis were having so much fun together that if the other two were to disappear and never come back, none of them would even notice. While the lantern and the red head were just talking and talking and talking, the former Robin and the newest Titans member were focused on picking on their food, not even eating, just dragging it all over the plates, eyes down, unable to pretend. All those months of lying to herself and just by seeing him Y/N was falling back into the same trap.
Good thing she caught herself on repeating the same scenario.
“You are being awfully quiet, Y/N” Kyle finally realized whose voice was missing in the conversation “Todd here is a constant growler, but what happened to my little one?” he grabbed her waist pulling her closer and pinched her side, missing the furious glint in Jason’s eyes. Y/N did not and decided to use it.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be here with you, Kyle. And you let me pick my own food, that is sooo kind of you.” she mocked “boys this days, right Artemis?’
“Sure…..” the other girl nodded “we are both lucky I guess, I mean Jace, despite his rather harsh outside is pretty friendly on the inside.”
“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Y/N smiled, her eye travelling to Jason, who at this point was just clenching his jaw. “Kyle, honey! You should have told me you knew each other. I would be much better  prepared for this date. Now I feel like I don’t know your friends at all and seem boring.”
“boring? Y/N, love….” Kyle immediately matched Y/N tone, not fully aware why she turned to be like this, but he liked that. “You are everything but boring.”
“Oh, stop it” he laughed in the silliest, girlish smile she could produce and pushed his chest lightly, playfully “you’re making me blush.”
“And that’s the prettiest blush in the galaxy.” Kyle brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, bringing his face closer to hers. “And I would know, I am the green lantern after all.”
That was simply enough for Jason. He could not control himself anymore, standing up abruptly, almost tripping the table and the dishes.
“Jason?” Artemis took his hand, rubbing it gently “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “I need to smoke.” Without any other word of explanation or apology he left the table, heading towards the back exit.
“I’m sorry.” Artemis sighed deeply “I told he’s been acting strange for a while now…..”
“Really?” Y/N sipped on her cocktail innocently “for how long exactly.”
“A few months actually. I’m not really sure what’s got into him…. Maybe I should go and check on him?”
“Leave it, Artie. I’m telling you, Todd is one hell of a strange man…..
“Can’t argue with that….” Y/N mumbled, but no one heard her.
“…. A closed book, you could never open unless he lets you in.”
“Right…..” the red head played with her knife, twisting it between her fingers skillfully. “Kyle, I … I really should talk to you in private later.”
“Whatever you have to say, you can do it in front of Y/N.”
“Nah.” Y/N shook her head “I’ll give you two a minute. I need to go to the bathroom either way.”
“I’m sorry Y/N.” Artemis eyed her apologetically.
“It’s all right. Just have your talk, I get it.” Oh, she did get it. Guilt was eating Artemis up and Y/N was definitely not going to be the one to sympathize with her. “Just let me know when you’re done.”
“You got it, pretty. I gotta take you back home safe after all.”
Y/N just send him a light smile and headed towards the bathroom, but before she could reach it, she felt a strong grip on her wrist and was dragged outside.
“What the fuck!?” she hissed, twisting her assaulter arm in a well-trained motion, but it backfired on her, once she noticed who the attacker was. “What the fuck, Jason!?”
“What are you doing with him!?”
“Why do you care?!”
“What are you doing with that pimp!?”
“Pimp?! Oh, I’m sorry, are you speaking from experience? Cause sure as hell you would recognize someone to do it that business.”
“Be careful with words now, princess.” Jason hissed
“Oh, you think you can scare me” she cooed “that is just so. damn. Cute. In case you didn’t notice things have changed. I’m not the helpless girl anymore. Dick….”
“Oh, I know what my brother did. I know he trained you and made you join Titans. Is that how you met Rayner? Are you going out with him now?’
“This is none of your damn business!” she yelled
“Isn’t it?” he hissed taking a step forward, pressing her into the building wall, trapping her between it and his body, her hands pinned on her sides.
“I can still kick your ass, you know.” she struggled against his grip. Damn it, he was strong, that one thing surely did not change.”
“Than do it, I dare you.” he mumbled into her ear and it made her shiver.
Focus Y/N - she thought to herself -remember what he did”
“how is it going with Artemis?” she kept her tone cool, not showing how his proximity was affecting her “she’s worried you don’t love her anymore, you know.” she pouted “such a shame. Wasting perfectly good relationship…. AUCH!” she yelled as Jason pressed her further into the wall, the cold stone hurting her back.
“Do you ever shut up?!” he hissed
“At least I’m running my mouth in all the right places!” she yelled trying to push him off “not where they should never wander!”
“How about I show you were they should wander.” His eyes glistened with lust and she shivered under the weight of it. Oh, hell no!
“Don’t even think about it!” she hissed, but he completely ignored her words, getting closer and closer to her face, his grip becoming iron clad, probably leaving bruises “GET THE FUCK OFF ME! KY….”
Before she could finish yelling the other guy’s name Jason’s lips were already on hers, moving rapidly, hungrily with the intensity that made her melt instantly. And hating herself for that. For a moment she was struggling to break free, but once his hands moved over to her waist, pressing her closer to him, wondering over her entire body, touching all the places only he knew about she completely gave up. Fuck, he just knew her body too well to even try to object. At the moment, her brain just stopped functioning, completely giving in to the desire he was igniting in her.
God, his mouth. His soft mouth, moving against her own, biting on the lower lip, causing her to moan involuntarily and let his tongue inside, exploring and claiming her.
“Jason…” she whined, fisting hands into his jacket, pulling him closer.
“Yes, princess. Keep saying my name. Tell me you missed me the way I missed you….” he tangled one hand in her hair, tilting her head and kissing her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and leaving a hickey. "Tell me….” He panted against her skin.
“I… I…..” she whimpered, still fighting not to give in completely, but slowly losing this fight “Fuck….” Poor girl could not hold back a whimper as Jason grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her into the wall once again, but this time making sure she did not feel any pain.
“Why did you came with that fucker, huh?” he mumbled playing with the hem of her shirt “out of every people on the planet it had to be him?” he grinded against her and damn, it reminded her of all the nights they spend together tangled in the sheets, when he was making her feel so good.
“Jace….” She moaned more, grabbing his neck and putting his mouth back down, kissing him back with desperation and need.
“You’re mine.” He hissed, letting go off her thigs, her whole weight leaning onto the wall as he started unzipping her pants “Fuck, you could have wear a skirt for once. But you know what, I’m actually glad you didn’t. Means you weren’t planning on doing anything with him.” He slid her pants and panties down a bit, putting her feet back onto the ground just to get them all the way to her ankles, getting on her knees in front of her, grabbing her ass now. “God I missed this. I missed you.” he breathed, kissing her leg up, slowly, tentatively, getting towards her inside thigh and stopping there for a second.
“Please…. “ she buckled her hips, head falling back and banging against the concrete. She didn’t care if anyone saw them here in quite compromising position. She needed him. She wanted him. She craved the way he always knew how to please her, how to satisfy her hunger “Please Jason….”
“What do you need princess?” he licked on her most sensitive part with the precision no one else could even begin to compete with and she let out that little kitten noise that always made him aware of how good he was doing. Jason Todd had a fucking praise kink and his pants were already tight. “tell me. You already got me on my knees, I’m listening.”
“I…I…. Ah! Jason!”
“Yes, princess?” he smirked, sucking on her clit “you’re so wet for me, and god, you taste just delicious….”
“I need you in me, now!”
“I got you covered.” He raised onto his feet, unzipping his own pants, ready for action, once again lifting her up, spreading her wide and pushing in. Fuck, he was fucking her in a public place and what spurred him on even more was that she let him. He made a mistake of ever letting her go. Of cheating on her. He would do everything to get her back, to make her forgive him, to come back into her life. Anything. Artemis might have been hot and good in bed, but Y/n and him shared a connection,  a deep bond, they had history. Surely that must have meant something to her, right? Right?
They were going to talk later and he would explain everything, begging for her but as for now all the was focused on was making her cum, reminding her how good he could make her feel. He. No one else. Not Rayner or any other fucker. He. Jason Todd. The one bound to her, left at her mercy.
God, she felt so good, so tight, so warm around him when he was snapping his hips against her, getting lost in all the sweet sounds she was making for him.
“Baby….” He whispered kissing her with undeniable passion ‘you’re mine….. you’re only mine. Say it. Tell me you still love me. ” he begged slowly losing his mind over the sensations
 “I…. Ah! Don’t stop. Jace. Fuck, don’t stop” she pressed herself onto him, picking up the pace, fire inside her begging to be released. “Please, please, oh, please, Jace.” He nails dig into his back and he welcomed that familiar pain.
 “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”
“So… close… “ she panted, her breath ragged.
“I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.  Make you cum so fast, so hard. No one else. Not a one-night stand and definitely not Rayner.”
“Oh, fuck, fuck!” she screamed as he finally took her over the edge, her orgasm overwhelming her whole, her body shaking in his arms as he held her tight, caressing her back and sides, whispering praises and sweet nothings into her ear, following soon after, coming inside her. What he didn’t know was that she screamed not only because of the intensity of the orgasm, but also because she realized Kyle was still inside the diner. With Artemis. Artemis with whom Jason cheated Y/N on.
Fuck, he made a terrible mistake.
“Princess” Jason mumbled, still bemused by claiming her like this, pretty sure now that he made her come they would talk and clear things out “I love you….”
“Fuck you, Todd!” much to his surprise she pushed him away, tear gathering in her eyes.
“I don’t …. What….?”
“You fucking idiot! You stupid scumbag!” she cried out, bending for her pants and panties and putting them back on. God, she fell for him again. stupid, stupid, stupid
“Baby….” He reached for her cheek, but she slapped his hand hard
“Get away from me! I’m warning you.”
“But I …. I….. I want you back….” He stuttered “I’m sorry for what I did, I am. Losing you made me realize…”
“Oh just shut the fuck up. You used me. Again .That’s all  it was. And fuck, I let you. And hey, you just cheated on your girl, who you previously cheated with. Funny, isn’t it?” she smiled sourly, wiping away the tears. “Guess the history repeat itself. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Anyway, I am going home….”
“At least let me take you.” his eyes were futilely searching hers “We can talk when you calm down, baby.
“Talk!?” she snapped “I don’t ever, ever, ever, want to see you again! And I can go by myself, definitely not with you. Good luck explaining to Kyle and …. Her… where I went.” She turned on her feet, angrily walking away.
He fucked up. Again .
***
“Dick…..” she showed up on her best friend’s doorstep, shaking, crying, freezing to death.
“Y/N? What happened?” Dick instantly pull her into his chest and inside, rubbing her back just to warm her up a bit.
“I…. I did something terrible. I… I let….”
“Shh…” Dick cooed “breathe. Just breathe, all right? I’ll get you something to drink, you will take a shower and some rest and then tell me, ok?”
“O.. ok…” she stuttered
“Whatever happened, whatever Jason did to you, I’m here. I’ll help you.”
“How….how do you know…..?”
“I know you are not shaking like that because of Kyle. He’s a prick but he wouldn’t hurt you. My brother on the other side…” he shook his head “I guess I will have to kill him.”
“No, please, just stay with me.” She clung onto him desperately searching for safety and reassurance "I don;t want to be alone...." her sob was just so terrible it made Dick tighten the hug.
“I’m not going anywhere. At least for now…..”
To be continued?
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yanderedbdimagines · 10 months ago
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Hi dear, i have a special request. What about yandere Entity with a reade who find a way to escape. The Entity obvious don´t whant them to leave. <3
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Creative ask! Underneath normal circumstances, I believe that it’s basically impossible to escape the Entity, so I had to get creative xD I hope that the method of escape I picked is lore-friendly enough! And I hope you like it as result!
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The Entity
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The Entity is a mysterious force that lures unsuspecting souls into its realm. Souls that have often been tainted- touched by death’s essence.
To the outside worlds- past, present and future, alternate reality or not, it is but a myth. A whisper in the dark. But to most of those who find themselves trapped within its grasp, it is a nightmare made into reality.
You stumbled into this otherworldly domain after the death of a loved one, drawn in by an eerie curiosity just outside of the crematorium center that soon swayed you into the unknown through a trick of the eye.
Little did you know, your mere presence instantly awakened the Entity’s interest, and eventually its possessive nature, after you started traversing though the fog- eventually trying to find a way out. 
At first, the Entity appeared as a benevolent guide, offering solace and shelter in its strange realm from dangers you could sense, but never see. Yet, behind the veiled kindness laid a sinister desire to keep you captive, to possess your every thought, whim and every little part of your being. Your soul especially.
You quickly realized the Entity’s infatuation, its twisted affection made further prevalent after you accidentally stumbled upon a haunting replica of your own past. A memory made physical, but never real. The people you cared about weren’t there, and the animals you did see just didn’t look alive. As if they lacked heart. 
As the night stretched ever endlessly, you came to yearn for freedom- for a way out of this suffocating imprisonment. With every attempt to escape, the Entity's affection morphed into perceivable fury from the surrounding environment, its once soothing whispers turning into menacing warnings. You knew the risks, the danger of crossing such a mighty being, but the desire for freedom burned brighter than any fear. Even though you were still unaware of the realm's true purpose, its minions, and the actual victims trapped within.
Through sheer determination and cunning, you eventually pieced together forgotten fragments of lore and ancient whispers, not only revealing to you the realm’s true nature, but also uncovering a hidden passage that promised escape after a long time of searching. With a pounding heart and trembling hands, you set your plan into motion, long since haven found a way to evade the Entity's watchful gaze by using a strange yellow flower that oozed with a fluorescent yellow substance.
In the distance, near a tunnel made up mostly of stone bricks and various human body parts in different states of decay, you eventually found this potential way out. And it was made further evident as the yellow ooze’s potency sharply reduced after you jumped through the black mists that originally blocked up its entrance.
The escape was fraught with peril, every step echoing with the Entity's enraged cries and your nose tormented by the constant scent of decay. Shadows and mist alike twisted and writhed, attempting to ensnare you, but you pressed on, fueled by the flickering hope of freedom as you warded it with the unusual flower’s nectar. As you neared the exit, the Entity's desperation peaked, unleashing its full wrath upon you, a whirlwind of dark energy and desperate pleas. Even the unspoken threat of using the killers against you as you heard the rearing of chainsaws and the bone chilling screams of monsters echo from all around you.
With a final surge of willpower, you broke through the threshold, a familiar world outside welcoming you with open arms. Gasping for much needed air and a heart pounding wildly, you glanced back at the realm- a large hole in the surrounding morning mist that seemed to collapse in on itself. The Entity's form flickered beyond it in the distance, a mix of fury and heartbroken anguish etched upon its fading shadows- writhing in on itself.
You had escaped the clutches of the Entity, but its haunting presence always lingers in your memories. The chilling whispers and phantom touches serve as a constant reminder of the harrowing ordeal. Yet, with each passing day, you have found some solace in the newfound freedom, vowing to never forget the haunting dance with the possessive being that may almost have claimed your very soul, and to make sure that you’d never fall into its shadows ever again.
After all, despite your escape, the Entity persistently seeks ways to reclaim its hold, attempting to ensnare you from afar—a chilling reminder to remain ever vigilant against its unseen clutches.
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