#tw ; slight mentions of abuse

[starysky1289]

I need more Toxic!Dark!Sorority Vanessa!!

That fic was just.. Chefs kiss. You write so well. 🥹

Thank you for the compliment it means so much. 😭😭🥺I took dark off it because to me toxic is just way more extreme dark.

Toxic!Soroity!Vanessa X Reader. The argument.

TW: DubCon, toxic relationship, drug mention, Pet play if you REALLY squint, slight abuse.

“ Vanessa please. Just sit down and study, you need to pass this test. “

“ I’ll be fine. My father will just throw some more cash at the teacher if I fail. I can’t belive I’m dating a fucking nerd…”

You sat on Vanessa bed, holding your rather expensive book on your lap, watching as Vanessa did her makeup in the mirror.

“ listen. Just do a little with me. If you do, I’ll go down to the frats party with you “

You got up and put your chin on Vanessa’s, as she pushed you off, mumbling to herself.

“ I’m not taking you out anywhere until you cut that hair. You know I hate it long. But fine, give me the fucking book…”

You sighed, and gently placed the book on her vanity, she flipped it open and read some random page, before closing it, going back to her makeup.

“ there, I’m done. Now leave me alone, I gotta finish getting ready for this party. “

You shrank into your skin, you looked at her through the mirror, your eyes starting to water.

“ your..your still going to the party without me? “

“ yeah? Who else is bringing the drugs. “

“ but..I can’t come? “

Vanessa groaned, standing up and heading towards her closest, looking through her multiple revealing outfits.

“ I said you’re not going out till your hair gets cut. And maybe if you loose a few pounds too. “

Your legs trembled, you hated when she brought up your weight, you had been working hard to try and loose some for her, but it was never enough.

“ b..but I’ll be alone in my dorm nessa…”

“ listen. You’re lucky we’re dateing, stop crying and get your shit together, I’ll drive you to your place. “

You grabbed your bag, shoving the papers and books you’d brought try and get her to study with you, it never worked. You froze, your hands trembling as you stared at the bright pink scrunchie around your wrist.

“ I can’t. TAKE IT ANYMORE VANESSA. “

She froze, staring at you in disbelief. You pulled the scrunchie off you wrist, holding it tightly in you hand.

“ I can’t take this abuse! I can’t take how you treat me like an accessory, I’m more than that! I’m sorry your father never loved you enough to give you a good life, but that doesn’t mean you can ruin mine. IM DONE. “

You throw the scrunchie in her small trash, grabbing your bag and storming towards the door. As you reached for the door handle, your wrists were quickly grabbed, and Vanessa shoved you against the wall, her eyes blazing with rage.

“ how dare you. You’d be nothing without me. NOTHING. “

She snarled in your face, her grip around your wrist tightened, you could feel her acrylics digging into your skin. She smirked, her eyes still starring into yours.

“ you wanna go to that party so bad? Fine. We’ll go, and we’ll make sure everyone knows your mine. “

She let go of you, and turned to her closet, throwing you an outfit. You watched as she changed her shirt skirt, tossing it back into the closet and going over to her vanity draws, before glaring at you.

“ don’t just stand there. Change. And if I fucking hear your complaining your dead. “

You quickly began to change, you had faced away from Vanessa, trying not to make much more eye contact with her. She had given you a pink tank top and a white short skirt, that barely covered your ass.

“ take the panties off. “

“ b-but nessa- “

“ do it. “

She growled at you from across the room, you reluctantly stripped them off, tossing them into the corner. You finally faced Vanessa. She wore a white crop top with a pink faux fir jacket, and a pair of tight black joggers shorts. You couldn’t help but notice the bulge in them, your lips quivering, you knew exactly what she was going to do with you.

“ now, let’s give you the last few changes~ “

She pulled your hair up with the pink scrunchie you threw out, putting it in a low ponytail. She fished around another cabinet and strapped a cold peice of leather around your neck. Looking in the mirror, you could see it was a pastel pink collar, you touched it gently, before Vanessa grabbed your wrists again, dragging you downstairs, and eventually out of the Soroity house.

“ your gonna listen to me. And if anyone comes up to you you’re gonna come find me, I don’t need another repeat of last time, do we? “

“ n..no nessa…”

She got into her car, you sitting in the passenger side, as she began to drive out.

“ one more thing. Im Mistress tonight, so if you need me, you’ll ask your Mistress, you got that? “

“ y-yes v-van-….yes mistress…”

Tears swelled in your eyes, as embarrassment flooded through your body. Vanessa glanced at you and scoffed.

“ again with the tears. Stop being such a crybaby, people don’t like it, I don’t like it. “

You wipped your face, and stayed quiet. Your heart raced at the thought of what she’d do to you. Eventually, you pulled up to a large red house, you could hear the music blaring from inside already. Vanessa stepped out and you followed her, she knocked on the door, and a tall, blonde guy welcomed her in, eyeing you down like meat as you followed her in.

People seemed to cheer as Vanessa came in and quickly sat herself down, emptying her purse, she had filled it to the brim with multiple baggies with white powder in them.

“ Y/N. You get the special job of counting my money. And if you do good I’ll reward you~ “

You only nodded, sitting next to Vanessa. You felt her fiddle with the collar, but you didn’t look.

“ alright fuckers, line up. Give the pretty girl your money. “

Dozens of people immediately lined up, digging through the pockets for wads of cash. You’d take it, count how much, and tell Vanessa, who’d hand them a bag worth the money. You couldn’t help but notice the glares you were getting, people eyeing you up and down. Even when they came up to get there shit they’d talk to Vanessa about.

“ pretty thing you’ve got there Nessa, what made ya bring her. “

“ she wanted you to throw a fit before i was gonna go, so i brought her along to help. Don’t worry, she’s got something coming. “

You stayed quiet when the line slowed down, and eventually everyone had gotten something. Vanessa pulled you into her, playing with something in her hand.

“ god…keeping you in a leash has been the best idea I’ve had. It really makes sure you know who you belong to~ “

You had finally noticed it, the black braided leash Vanessa had attached to your collar. You blushed and turned away, Vanessa only chuckled and pulled you in by it, holding you chin.

“ don’t be embarrassed. I think you got me a lot more money than I would off. I think that deserves a reward baby~ “

“ n-Nessa- “

“ mistress. “

“ mistress. Y-yess. I-I don’t wanna do anything in public like this..”

She chuckled again, spreading her legs, messing with her shorts and letting the pink strap pop out.

“ well, keep your mouth on it and no one sees. Easy as that. “

You stared at you, hesitantly moving down to sit between her legs. She held onto your ponytail, pushing your face against the strap.

“ pretty little thing…cmon. Get to work. “

You looked up at her once again, before slowly taking it in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head on it. She kept a good grip on your hair, you watched her look around the room, like she was making sure no one saw, but everyone could.

“ hey, Sarah, Bailey! No im not busy, get me a seltzer and join me. “

You flushed, those were the names of her closest friends. You tried to pull back, but she kept your head down, you reluctantly continued to suck on the pink silicone dick.

The girls sat on each side of her, you could see them looking at you, snickering behind their hands.

“ how’d she get in this predicament~? “

“ she wanted to run her mouth. And I couldn’t just let her get away with that. She threatened to leave me, Bailey, could you believe that. “

Vanessa finally let go of your head, you slowly pulled off, laying your head on her thighs. Sarah petted your head like you were a dog, snickering to herself.

“ can she do any tricks Vanessa~? “

“ mm..not tricks, but she’s a fantastic listener, arnt you baby~? “

“ yes..yes mistress…”

The girls all laughed, you burried your head in Vanessa thighs, you longed to go to your dorm and just sleep, but you had to run your mouth.

“ hey, baby. “

You lifted your head,Vanessa pulled the leash slightly, signaling you to sit on her lap. You felt so out of place there, the strap pressed against your pelvis, Vanessa’s arms around your waist.

“ you do one more thing for me and I’ll take you to ya dorm. “

“ w-what do you want…”

“ ride me. “

You burried your head into her shoulder, the girls giggled as Vanessa kissed your neck.

“ cmon baby, it’s just like at home. Only difference is we’re out. “

“ b-but I don’t like people watching..”

“ this isn’t a option, Y/N. You’ll do this, I take you home, I come back and get wasted. Maybe I should have let you walk out, you could have gotten kidnapped and raped on the way to your dorm. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. “

You quickly hugged her, tears forming in your eyes, before you pulled your face out of her shoulder and stared at her.

“ n-no please..d-don’t let me get hurt..”

“ then you gonna do it? “

You held her shoulders, taking a deep breath, before lowering yourself onto the toy, moaning softly. The tears slowly began to roll down your face as Vanessa gripped your waist, helping your ride the strap at a steady pace.

“ that’s it…my girl always comes back around to me, don’t you~? “

“ y-yes mistress, i do. I-I’m your girl..”

All threes of the girls laughed again. Vanessa would slam you down onto the strap, making your moans grow louder every moment.

“ m-mistress please- I-I’m gonna cum please~!! “

You felt the toy spread you, like it could rip you if it was any bigger. You slammed yourself down faster, trying to please her, trying to please yourself.

“ aww..dirty girl. Go ahead, cum…but your walking out of here by yourself, I’m not holding your hand~ “

You where to intoxicated by the pleasure to care, letting Vanessa thrust into your, before you let out one last defeated moan. Your walls clenched around the toy, as you let out heavy breaths. The music was still blaring around you, no one seemed to notice what had just happened besides the two girls and maybe one or two bystanders.

“ such a good girl..what do you say~? “

“..thank you…thank you mistress…I love you..”

Vanessa, for the first time, gently held his ur waist and helped pull you off, as she stuffed the soaked strap back into her shorts, letting you walk out toward the door.

“ I’ll be back in like fifteen, save my seat. “

Vanessa called to her friends, before you walked into the passenger seat, Vanessa pulled you into her, kissing you deeply.

“ oh i love you too…oh how lucky you are that your mine~ “

[shayandwildlifepack]

Tw/cw: anger, violence, slight death (murder?) mention, slight animal abuse mention (comparing ourselves to one), and if there are any others, please let us know.

Being angry sucks sometimes cause we can also get very aggressive (even if it's only in our mind), and it sucks.

Like, we don't really like getting so angry that we think about biting or scratching or even killing someone. But this is how our brain works sometimes.

Especially when it's "not that serious" or whatever. Like something "small" can also cause anger like this. We really are pretty similar to a cornered abused creature when we get angry at times.

- Shay 🐾

[sunbeamah]

Hi everyone!

Firstly I'd like to sincerely apologise to everyone who follows me, and who's been waiting for an update on any of my fics. I made promises for chapters and posting times that I didn't keep, and I should never have made them when I was in such a shaky place.

It feels really silly to act like I'm a public figure or something, but I know many of you care about the fics I post and want to know if they'll be updated and whatnot. I'll put a heading below the cut for that specifically, so you can skip the first bit (explanation of what's been delaying said fics so much).

These past 2 months a lot has happened in my life. My parents got a divorce and I have experienced more betrayal, disdain and hatred from my father's side of the family than I ever thought possible. The same family that inspired me to write trouble in tokyo, the family who I love so much, has shown me once again who they truly are. I've experienced everything from violence to exclusion to just straight up being ignored, and I'm still a bit shaken from how quickly everything turned. I'm physically okay and safe now, and I'll heal emotionally.

I realise now that I was always an outsider looking in. My family is full of close-knit sibling groups, and I'm an only child who never quite fit. I was always too awkward, too different, too disappointing in the visual sense, to ever really fit in. They were all nice enough when we spoke one-on-one, so I thought maybe the reason why they ignored me and excluded me in group settings was because, though they loved me, they just loved or liked each other more. But I was just turning a blind eye to all the things they did because I wanted to protect. Whether that protection was for myself and my feelings, or my images of the people I felt were close as siblings to me, I don't know. But I understand now.

Families in my culture don't have to be blood-related. It's silly to forgive people of all their trespasses and put them on a pedestal just because you share a grandparent. I know all this, and yet here I am, still crying.

Updates on my fanfiction specifically

I still have many troublesome extras planned and half-written, and I will be finishing and posting those! The Kusozu brothers are a strong family with a genuine, unconditional love for each other that I still believe exists! I'm sure it's out there waiting for us all :)

I'm so sorry to everyone who's sent me an ask I haven't gotten back to yet, I sincerely thank you so much for sending them. I want to reply with a fic chapter for you all, and that's the only reason why I haven't responded.

The Butterfly Effect chapters I promised had to be scrapped. I will be writing better ones and hopefully posting them in a more timely manner.

The Cat!Yuuji au Nine Lives has 3 more works to come. They're short, silly little ficlets that aren't serious or heavy at all.

My many, many, many jjk fics unposted will start to be posted soon. I've got lots of inspiration and lots of emotional turmoil to write out, so please excuse me if it's something a little angstier.

[villainous-redemption-au]

Hey Flug how did you and Black hat meet

This is just my headcanon, I don't know the actual lore behind Black Hat and Dr. Flug's history.

[lonelydemon-rp]

Headcannon

Ruby is definitely demisexual and so she has to have a connection with someone before she even considers anything sexual. ESPECIALLY when it comes to her past because in her main verse she has only been intimate twice. Her first time was disappointing and the second time was assault. Due to this she’s very cautious when it comes to intimacy even if she craves it, but in hell she would rather be safe then give into something that could cause her more disappointment or worse pain. She does crave a partner that would treat her well at least for Hell’s standards.

[g-dsyndr-me]

Loomfather, Lord, what have you done to say you are a cruel god?

(are you ok with worship to heal religious trauma? /gen)

Ah, many things, some of which I cannot bring my self to say or even fully remember. I cannot grasp what my thought process was when doing terrible things, I suppose I let my ego get in the way...

But, that's really a non answer, so here are some of the things I've unfortunately done...: I was quite mean to my angels and often yelled at them or locked them up if they did anything to set me off - which happened a disproportionate amount, I had a extream fear of my highest angels trying to overthrow or cast me out - so they weren't allowed to talk to anyone, I didn't let my devotees leave even after a led them to ruin, ect.

These things I know now are unforgivable, but I am here to atone and show that I can be a kind god - or at the very least an ok "human"

As for worshiping for the sake of healing religious trauma, that is completely ok. I am here to help people.

[mechahero]

Character headcanon generator - 10 headcanons! Generate 10 headcanons and share whether they're true or not. Repost, don't reblog.

Lambda has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory. (Not true. His long and short-term memory are fricked to hell in back. #untreated ADHD BABEYYY)

Lambda speaks only in meme references. (Not true. For all the time he spends on the internet, he rarely picks up on memes.)

Lambda can beat you up, but wont. (True... to an extent. He usually needs a fairly good reason to do so.)

Lambda hacks their stats in every video game they play. (Not true. He likes to play video games as is.)

Lambda enjoys doing taxes. (Not true. This guy has not done taxes ever in his life. Unless you count item tax when he heads out of town to get groceries he can't find in Motor City.)

It would not take much for Lambda to turn evil. (... technically true. All it would take would for there to be an event that's far too much for him to handle to happen before Lambda says fuck it and starts behaving like the genuinely terrifying monster he's been turned into on a widespread scale.)

Lambda is a very good singer. (True but only a bit. He's decent.)

Lambda is afraid of doing anything without their parent's permission. (True but only pre cyborgification. He used to be downright terrified of doing something without their permission, usually his mother's, because going out and doing it anyway meant coming home to get hit for it.)

Lambda can't sit in a chair properly. (True. If he finds a way to sit that's comfier than how you're supposed to sit in a chair, he's going to do it.)

Tagged by: stole it from @electricea lol Tagging: YOU 🫵

[just-a-we1rd0]

I love like a dog.

No matter how many times you beat me.

starve me.

abuse me.

hurt me.

make fun of me.

love other dogs more than me.

cage me up.

ignore me.

No matter how much I know you dislike me.

No matter how much I know you would rather shoot me.

No matter how much I know you think other dogs are better than me.

No matter how much I know you think I'm sloppy.

No matter how much I know you think I'm annoying.

I will always run back to you with a wagging tail.

[mad-hunts]

[[ I have questions about Barton's thoughts on cannibalism and some of the aspects it holds and means to him. Now suppose, SUPPOSE!!! We go the whole Death of the Family route. And adjust it to fit our respective takes of Barton and Joker. Are there any feelings regarding the whole process of taking Joker's face off? ]]

AHH, forgive me for how late i am to replying to this, but thank you so much for the ask! i really do love y'all for wanting to know more about him tehe <33 BUT onto the rather taboo matter that is cannibalism, i would honestly be more than happy to talk to you about it in relation to barton's character more ( because i know we already talked about it a bit together, buttt of course, making posts about these things is always fun and i want you guys to always feel free to ask me questions about things on here :D ) . because being a cannibal is one of his most unfavorable traits since it is... well, VERY morally depraved, to put it simply. and perhaps surprisingly enough, this is the one aspect of what barton does that he usually doesn't try to excuse and/or just completely NOT care about it's inherent evilness. i'd honestly say that his thoughts about it are heavily negative and he tends to regret it afterwards in the occasion that he remembers he has done it (and just a quick refresher here, i say 'in the occasion that he remembers' because barton has suffered from blackouts before where his brain was just like ' oh, so we're doing this now, huh? yeahhh... i don't think we're going to be able to cope wth remembering this, so we're just going to metaphorically pack it somewhere where it can't be accessed.')

and it's, unfortunately, not so simple as him being able to stop doing it just because he knows it's gross + wrong. because i have to admit that this is hard for me to articulate properly into words but cannibalizing is like something that fills a void for him. which is SUPER twisted, of course, but most cannibals throughout history that also happened to be serial killers were extreme loners and don't have a lot of friends. so although it's criminal and definitely not something i condone, killing and eating someone for barton is like ensuring he is never alone in a way, because it's as if he is 'carrying the victim' along with him as part of a trophy. and this feeling is wickedly intoxicating for him because he is just SO alone all of the time. also, being able to have power like that over someone is appealing to barton, as i've read in several studies that some cannibals do what they do because it gives them this sick sense of satisfaction. and it makes him feel powerful because he's capable of doing something so few people have ( i mean, for good reason because it's TERRIBLE in ways i can't even describe, but barton is a very deranged individual y'all (,,: ) + it gives him that dopamine rush even though it really shouldn't.

but yeah. that's why, when it comes to people coming across barton while he may be in the act of doing so, that he almost appears as if he's high probably a good chunk of the time 💀 like the man is TRULY a menace to society jsjsj but this momentary 'bliss' doesn't last long, as i was saying that he normally regrets doing it afterwards and it tends to sometimes even give him stomach aches by psychogenic means. and when he's like this, i hope this makes sense whenever i say this, but barton feels the most unhuman-like that he probably ever does so it also... scares him in a way??? yeah, i'd say that's pretty accurate. and so barton will normally deflect whenever the issue is brought up by other people in conversation. though, strangely enough, he also uses it to his advantage a bit to scare people he really doesn't like. as a threat is a lot more powerful when you know that someone is capable of doing it so if barton were to tell another muse that, if they betray him again like that, that he'll EAT them?? idk about that muse but i would be like ' oH. NO, I WAS TOTALLY NOT GOING TO DO THAT PSHHH ' and just completely brush away any plans i might've had of betraying him SKSKK

BUT yes, i hope that answered your question regarding his thoughts about cannibalism and what it means to him, as well as what some of the aspects hold to him. it is basically a brutal reminder that wesley still holds influence on him even after his death, honestly, as harrowing as that might sound because without him — he likely wouldn't have started doing it at all. so, in the case of barton's story, his bio father does 'haunt the narrative' as some people may call it. but OOH, honestly, like i was telling you before... i think it would be intriguing to maybe figure out a way it could be implemented between them so if you want to end up doing that, then do let me know!! but there is absolutely no pressure so don't feel like you have to. and as for feelings surrounding the removal of the joker's face, it isn't touched upon in the comics, BUT i'm going to be honest. barton is basically my OC now so i shall be telling you my perspective on how doing it made him feel. because barton deals in 'dead things' like he would call it, especially at the time that death of the family took place, i believe that he would be morbidly excited about the occasion of being able to quote unquote 'do his work on someone who's actually alive' and thus he would be a willing participant to it... just like barton was in the comics. though, i know that's messed up.

barton is just SO into the mindset that he is a 'creator' like we were talking about and since he didn't know at the time just how bad joker was, barton would have little to no reason to be wary about working with her. and he finds beauty in grotesque / unusual things so he likely would've seen it as some form of macabre form of art especially if it was... well, hooked on the wall, like it was in that panel of the comic 🫠 BUT ANYWAY enough of talking about gross things! the point i was trying to make is, barton would be excited to help her as sickkk as that sounds and if joker viewed it as some sort of rebirth / transformation just like the character did in the comics as well? then perhapsss barton would be proud that he's helping someone in a very questionable and gross way to become their more 'authentic self,' so yeahhh. i hope you enjoyed my response to this even though i know it was a bit long-winded!! i just wanted to cover everything is all, haha

[polyfrag-kero]

(TW abuse ment/vent)

it just clicked for our primary host recently (but especially today) that we're still living in a toxic/abusive situation, and things are not just "magically better" (we moved into our current house years ago, and before we lived in a very abusive household)

we thought moving would be the change we needed to finally start living our life. we all thought things would be better. but they weren't. they aren't. and he's finally realized it

- Cameron

[yearszero]

@sunxsin asked: i think it's the expectations and assumptions of others that causes heartache.

no   truer   words   have   ever   been   spoken.   it's   like   a   knife   right   through   his   chest;   more   potent,   more   gut   wrenchingly   awful,   than   anything   arkham   has   ever   felt.   there   was   not   much   you   could   compare   to   the   pain   of   emotional   cuts.   his   conditioning   tells   him   it's   his   fault   this   is   all   happening.   the   witch   has   always   blamed   himself   for   all   this.   he's   the   reason   his   own   brother   hates   him,   why   he   won't   talk   to   him.   their   father   was   right,   arkham   was   good   for   nothing   other   than   what   god   gave   him.   ❛❛     yeah,   that's   ...   that's   ...   you're   right.   you're   so   fucking   right  *!   ❜❜   he   takes   a   sip   from   the   bottle   in   hand,   letting   the   burn   seed   into   his   stomach,   quelling   the   emotions   in   his   chest.   if   only   he   wasn't   such   a   coward   *&   could   tell   vitrix   the   truth.   tell   warren   that   nothing   was   their   fault,   nothing   at   all.   but   just   the   thought   of   talking   about   it   rips   his   voice   box   from   his   throat.   he   becomes   mute,   immobile,   detached   from   this   world.   ling   is   different   though,   he   knows   how   ark   feels.   if   the   glanced   at   behavior   of   the   older   yao   was   anything   to   go   by.   it   makes   the   truth   easier   to   crawl   out   his   throat,   but   still   there   is   rejection   hanging   in   the   balance.  he  feels  guilty  he  can't  even  tell  chase  any  of  this  !  lord    knows   he  wasn't   kin   of  dad  of  the  year   either.   but  there  is  something  about  the   buzz   *&  the  triggering  feeling   of  coming  too  close  for   comfort   that   has  him   itching  to  get   it  out.     ❛❛  hey   so   like,   ....   if   i   don't   say   this   now   i   may   lose   the   nerve,   but   ....   you're   dad   ....   i   kinda   relate.     ❜❜   there   he   said   it.   no   going   back   now.   hes   takes   another   sip   hoping   to   drown   out   the   screaming   in   the   back   of   his   head.

[mad-hunts]

what made you choose this muse? 👀

oh?? *double eye emojis* okay, i LOVE you for asking me this question, NGL. so thank you very much for the ask, my friend!! i really do appreciate it. now, as for what made me choose this muse... let me just say that a lot of it had to do with the fact that i may or may not have had this big fixation with the batman rogues (and honestly, i still do, though it's ehhh... kind of less extreme now LOL) a few years ago because i just think they're really neat, you know? like they're all meant to challenge bruce in a particular way and/or aspect, i think, and that kind of attention to detail is * chef's kiss * and i'm honestly not too sure how i came across it anymore (i thinkkk i had accessed the comics from this totally legitimate site *wink* at the time, which basically means i torrented it JSJ) but i wanted to read some comics from zack snyder's run in particular AND that is how i was originally introduced to the character. this is because he was in one of the comics related to death of the family and when i tell you that i was sort of fascinated by barton's character in there, albeit HORRFIED as well since his literal first appearance showed him in a mask made out of his deceased father's face (like seriously, WTF dude? LOLLL), i mean it.

and i think this was because there really wasn't a lot of information about him even within the comic besides that his father was this pretty monstrous guy who forced him to go on 'hunting trips' with him when he was a kid, as you all may already know, and later got killed by jim gordon... and after disappearing for some years, he came back and just. Decided to do something that's completely normal (sarcasm haha) and help the joker cut off their face??? which is an utterly INSANE plot point, of course, but i really do enjoy the more horror-based stories surrounding the batman lore so i immediately wanted to see what else i could find this character in. and much to my dismay, barton only appeared in ONE other comic besides that one before the writers were like ' welp. i guess we're done with this guy, because he's served his purpose ' LIKE OMGGG. i did not want to believe that they literally just had him be the primary antagonist in one comic, and a secondary in the other, because i honestly could see a lot of potential in him as a formidable threat towards heroes + i really wanted to know more about what EXACTLY he was making these 'dolls' of his for.

but unfortunately, the writers of dc sometimes are WACK and don't always pursue plot-lines that would be very interesting in my humble opinion / kind of subvert from the norm. so i decided, to hell with it, i was going to make him MY original character now because if they weren't going to make more content with him in it... then i will MUAHAHAH 😈 nahhh, i'm kidding, but that is pretty much what i was thinking whenever i started to develop him and basically make him into a fully-fledged person rather than just an antagonist with limited backstory to him + that was one-dimensional. anddd i wanted to delve deeper into the subject of how barton became the way he is in particular, because although his environment was most definitely a factor in his role in 'gotham's underground' now, everyone has to take full responsibility for their actions anyhow and his was to be a violent as well as overall abhorrent person. for, although the fact that he also has ASPD plays into this, it is not an excuse for any of his behaviors.

so yeah! all in all, the reasons behind why i chose the character of barton specifically to portray was because i think that the writers of DC reallyyy missed out on the opportunity of creating a complex villain and just in general doing something more with barton's character than him just simply being 'that guy who cut off the joker's face.' plusss, once i got the idea in my head that he was a blonde man with curls? it was all over for me, y'all, i'm not gonna lie. i was OBSESSED / j LMAO i'm joking, but for some reason, i could just see my current fc suiting him. and that's about all i have to say about it for right now but i hoped you liked my response to this!!

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Nursle.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 3.4k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).

[Part Two] [Part Three]

A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.

Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.

Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—

“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”

You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”

Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”

Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.

In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.

You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.

If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”

You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.

Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”

“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”

“Let me guess – maternity leave?”

Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”

Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”

This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”

“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”

You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”

“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”

“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”

Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.

You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.

It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…

This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”

You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.

He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.

He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.

You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.

You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.

He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”

“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”

It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”

You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”

You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.

“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”

~

Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.

“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”

You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”

That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.

“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.

“Geto Himari.”

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i grew up into something good

( michael kaiser x fem! reader )

♡ a/n —  for my childhood friends to lovers series! ( please note: i read back through the manga and scoured the internet and couldn't find definite ages on kaiser's past- so i may have got it wrong !)

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — michael kaiser x reader, fem! reader, TW! mentions of abuse ( both kaiser and reader ), SPOILERS! for kaiser's past, nickname 'liebe' used once, goes from ages 8 to 19, slight angst?, slight fluff, childhood friends to lovers

♡ synopsis — you were michael kaiser's god given solace, but were you enough to make him stay?

Snowflakes swirled in the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, the cold gnawing at your exposed skin like a starving animal.

The bruises on your arms and legs throbbed, but they weren’t new. Pain had become as familiar to you as breathing, as inevitable as the cycle of being dragged down and getting back up again.

You walked through the slush-covered pavement barefoot, having been thrown out before you could grab your shoes. Your fingers curled into the sleeves of your too-thin sweater, trying to keep the warmth in, but it was no use.

The winter night bit into your bones, and your body trembled from more than just the cold.

And then you saw him.

A boy, barely eight years old, sitting alone on the rusted swings of the abandoned park down the street.

His lip was split, a bruise already darkening along his cheekbone, and his hands were stuffed into the pockets of a jacket too thin to fight off the winter wind.

His breath came in short, shallow puffs, and even from a distance, you could see the glint of unshed tears in his bright blue eyes.

For a long moment, you just stood there, watching. Because you knew.

You knew what he felt. The sting of rejection, the loneliness that pressed against your ribs like a crushing weight.

The pain of being born into a world that decided you were unwanted before you even had a chance to prove otherwise.

And somehow, he knew too.

“…Hey.” His voice cracked from the cold as you stepped closer, his head tilting slightly. His eyes flickered over your bruises, the red marks on your skin, the way you hugged yourself like you were trying to disappear.

Without a word, you sat on the swing next to him. The chains creaked under your weight, a sharp sound in the silence.

He didn’t ask where you came from. You didn’t ask why he was here.

You simply existed together. Two broken children, sitting in the dead of winter, finding warmth in each other’s presence.

That was the first night you met Michael Kaiser.

And from that night on, you were never apart.

At thirteen, the weight of your shared existence became heavier.

You had each other—that was all that mattered. In a world that had discarded you, the two of you had carved out a place where you could just be. Where the bruises didn’t matter, where the cruel words faded into nothing.

But the world was relentless.

You still had to go to school, while Kaiser roamed the streets, making money however he could, playing soccer like his life depended on it—because, in some ways, it did.

He lived without structure, without rules, without an escape plan. His future was a black void, stretching endlessly in every direction, and you were the only light in it.

“Why don’t you just quit?” he asked one afternoon, sitting on the rooftop of an old apartment building where you sometimes hid out together. A soccer ball sat beside him, spinning idly under his fingers. “School’s a waste of time, anyway.”

“I want to go to university, Micha.”

Something about the certainty in your voice made him pause. You had never sounded like that before—so sure, so determined.

He scoffed, leaning back on his hands. “More school? For what?”

You peeled off your blazer, revealing fresh bruises underneath.

He was the only one you ever let see them.

“I want to be a doctor,” you said simply. “To help people when they’re hurt.”

For the first time in his life, Kaiser felt small.

Because you believed in something. Because you had a dream. And as ridiculous as it was, as impossible as it seemed, he wanted to believe in something too.

It was in that moment that Michael Kaiser realized he loved you.

At fourteen, he kissed you for the first time.

It was his birthday.

To his father, it was just another year spent stuck with a child he never wanted.

To Kaiser, it was another step closer to getting away. One more year survived. One more year closer to freedom—or death. He hadn’t decided which yet.

To you, though, it was the day Michael Kaiser was born into this world. And for that, you were thankful.

You found him at the park, the same place where you had first met, holding a single bread roll with a candle stabbed into it.

You had stolen the candle—and maybe the lighter too—but that didn’t matter.

“What’s that for?” Kaiser asked, amused, as you plopped down next to him.

“I couldn’t find any cake,” you admitted sheepishly. “But you have to make a wish on your birthday. That’s how it works.”

Rolling his eyes, he blew out the candle, and you beamed.

“What’d you wish for?” you asked, voice full of childlike wonder.

Kaiser didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward, his breath warm against your lips, and kissed you.

It was soft, hesitant, uncertain. The first good thing he had ever been given in his life.

“What was the wish?” you whispered when he pulled away.

He looked at you, eyes burning with something you didn’t yet understand.

“That,” he murmured. “You. For you to be with me forever.”

At fifteen, he left.

Ray Dark came into his life like a promise, like a lifeline, like the devil disguised as salvation. He was everything Kaiser had ever wanted—a ticket out, a future worth something.

“This man is going to change my life,” Kaiser told you, voice filled with something close to hope.

You weren’t dating. Not really. But you had kissed each other more times than you could count, fallen asleep tangled together, breathed the same air as if it was the only thing keeping you alive.

And now, he was leaving.

“What about…” The words died in your throat.

What about me? you wanted to beg for an answer.

“What about what?” he pressed, tilting his head closer.

What about us? your heart screamed.

You swallowed hard. “Never mind.”

He sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Liebe, don’t cry,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll be back. I’d never leave you.”

He kissed you then—deeper, more meaningful than ever before. And the next morning, he was gone.

You waited. You waited for years.

At nineteen, you saw him again.

Not in person. On a television screen, in the common area of your dorm.

His hair was different��shorter, the ends dyed electric blue. A tattoo curled around his skin like a brand, like a reminder of who he had become.

He wasn’t the boy you knew anymore. He was Michael Kaiser, the star of Bastard München.

You stood frozen, staring, as the commentator sang his praises. The people around you cheered.

Tears slipped down your cheeks before you even realized they had started.

I’ll be back. I’d never leave you.

But he had.

And maybe you couldn’t even blame him.

Because Michael Kaiser had made it out. And he had left you behind in order to save himself.

And somehow, even after all these years—after all the promises and all the distance—you still weren’t sure whether that was something you could ever forgive.

do i dislike kaiser? sort of. is he still one of my favorite characters to write for? hell yeah.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[leyavo]

| I am my father's daughter |

💖 Dad!price x daughter!reader

| Part One |

Summary: John Price gets an angry voicemail from his ex-wife saying how his twenty year old daughter took off. He doesn’t know what he’s more angry at, the fact his ex-wife’s complaining about rent money or that you took off with her leather jacket.

But he’s going to get another call…

TW: Hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/comfort | a little bit of 141 in here too at the end/complicated father-daughter relationship

🔈Readers view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

[Series Masterlist] This was longer than I planned too 2980 words.

John and his ex-wife were both sixteen when they had you. Price later joined the military and your mother cheated on him many times as you grew up.

You were the one to break it to your dad, but in your spite for your mother you ended up hurting him.

There were a few years you didn’t see your dad, your mother upheaving your life whenever she fell in love with a new guy. It never lasted long though, forced to stay in a hotel when things went south until she found a new place. The cycle would repeat.

The father daughter relationship was strained till he got married again and your now step mum stepped in to get you back in his life. The younger brother you never heard of and the wedding your mum had never told you about, let alone the divorce. She’d also been spending the money your dad gave her that was meant for you.

You visited your dad every now and then, but it was difficult with his job and you having school.

Fast forward to you being twenty and you leave with the first guy that can get you out of your mums house. She’s never forgiven you for telling your dad about her affairs. Easy money, she said being with a military man who rarely came home.

Things don’t seem to work out for you though, they never do. You’re sobbing whilst you clutched onto your phone, hoping your dad will answer your call.

You know when you can reach out to him, he still messaged you when he’s going dark on his missions and won’t be with his phone. Followed by a short text when he’s finished, a standard one that you don’t reply to anymore.

He does answer, the one person who always seems to pick up your call. Even though you haven’t spoken to him in months. Even though you’ve ignored his name lighting up your phone screen.

“Hey, kiddo.” His voice soft and low, you didn’t deserve his kindness. Part of you expected him to shout down the phone, but he just carried on talking to you. “You looking after yourself kid?”

“Yeah dad,” you said, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your hoody. Half a lie, tonight was the first time in ages you’d looked after yourself in the right way. No making excuses for his actions and convincing yourself it was your fault.

He hummed, music cutting off in the background as he shushed whoever was with him.

“Good to hear your voice,” you said, wanting to fill the silence. It’s like being a kid again and finally getting through to him whilst he’s at the military base, to hear him and know he’s there.

“What you doing?”

A smile tugged your lips, anything to keep you on the phone. “I’m waiting for the bus,” you said, forgetting how late it was and the fact you’d missed the last one of the night.

“On your own?”

The wind whipped through the flimsy bus shelter, your bag held on your lap for extra warmth. “Yeah, I’m a big girl now dad.”

Your mind wandered back to the basic self defence moves he’d taught you at sixteen and how when it mattered most you froze instead of fighting. What would the captain think of you?

The captain, a role he slipped back into when he didn’t know how to be there for you. Spoke to you as if he were training a fragile new recruit, measured words and slight pauses keeping him safe.

The man who told you to do anything, but be backed into a corner or made to feel small.

Small, exactly how you felt clinging onto your dad’s call. “I know you are, don’t need your old man no more eh, now that you’re grown.”

At times like this, you wished your dad would drop the tough act and baby you. He always treated you like an adult, even when you were a kid. Gave you a routine, a choice when it came to discipline, knowing that you’d rather do chores than get grounded. The captain never punishing you physically or raising his voice like your mum did. She was a whole different person when your dad went back to work for months on end.

“You still there kid?”

Tears streamed down your face, your cheeks burning in the bitter cold. “I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed, twisting the cuff of your sleeve in your hold.

You’d made such a mess. There was no way you’d go back to your mum’s and you knew that asking your dad for help wouldn’t be fair on your younger brother.

“Hey, hey kiddo. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Classic captain saying whatever you want to hear, like your someone as brave as him.

You wanted him, but couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. “Are you home?” Part of you hoping he’d say no, so that you don’t have to burden him with your problems.

“Nah, down south at the base,” he said, pausing and there’s a scuffle behind the speaker before he’s talking again. “Just me though, didn’t want to pull boyo out of school. Exams and that.” Your brother, ten years younger than you.

“Makes sense,” you sniffled, nodding as if he can see you. “I’m sorry I called so late.” Your throat burnt, nose sore from wiping it on your dad’s old hanky. Something you kept for comfort, a reminder of him. A little cigar stitched into the off white fabric.

“Don’t be sorry,” he snapped, the no nonsense captain sounding more like a man of military than your dad. “You’re okay though, that’s why you called. To check in with your old man? Well we’re all good kid, you and me don’t you worry.”

The first time talking to him since you sent him that written letter. The one where you apologised for tearing the family apart, for hurting him.

“Why can’t you just be my dad?”

There’s a clink of his phone on the other side, as if he’s dropped it. A deep breath filtering through the speaker as he exhales.

“What do you need?”

“I need you, I need my dad. Everything is so screwed up, I’m looking at this bus chart randomly picking a place or getting on the first one that shows up.” You rambled on, the weight on your chest less now that you’ve released the suppressed anger and frustration.

“Send me your location. You know how to do that, right?”

You can’t help, but chuckle at his response. Of course you know, your dad taught you how and frequently scolded you to turn it back on so he would know you’re safe. You hadn’t shared anything with him in months, your finger hovering over the button.

“Please, don’t send mum…”

“I’m on my way kiddo, an hour and a half tops. There any places you can sit inside whilst you wait?”

You don’t bother glancing around, the small street turning is far enough away from the main road. From experience you walked as long as you could, taking whatever path and ending up at a lone bus shelter. If your boyfriend drove around he wouldn’t be able to find you tucked away in a quiet road with newly built houses.

He stayed with you on the phone, giving you the colour and number plate of the car he’d be in when he arrived. You don’t have an interest in cars so the make and model goes over your head, your focus on the number plate instead.

True to his word the car rolled up by the bus stop and he’s out before it stopped.

Your hesitant steps halted as he too stopped in his tracks. His gaze falling on your split lip and blood clumped in your brow and hairline. His head turned to the side, hands shoved his pockets.

“I’m sorry, I know…” you don’t get to finish your sentence, his arms wrapping around you and your face smushing into his chest.

Pulling away from his embrace, the rain pelted down on you. He swept your wet hair out your eyes, hands framing your face as he tilted it up to look at you properly. The pad of his thumb brushed against your jawline, so close to the cut on your lip, but he didn’t touch it.

“Why don’t we get out this rain,” he said, his touch slipping from your face to scoop up your hand in his much larger one.

You don’t move with him though, stumbling towards him as you tried to tug him back. “Where are we going?” You asked, eyeing the man behind the steering wheel. There’s no way you’d go back to your mums, you’d rather wait for the bus or go back to your ex.

John smoothed his moustache, his gaze following yours to the car. “Back to the base, got a place there with my team. That okay, kid? Or there some where else you want me to take you?”

Nodding, you let him guide you to the car and open the back door. You slid in, followed by your dad who shrugged off his jacket and draped it over you. Shifting in your seat, you leant your head against the cold window and clutched the warm jacket around you closer.

“You hungry, can stop off before we go back to base,” John said, his elbow leaning on your bag on the seat between you and him.

“No, just tired,” you mumbled into his jacket. The burnt cigar and gunpowder still lingering on the fabric, like he’d smoked on the journey here.

His voice turned to a distance mumble, your eyes heavy as you let sleep take you. Your dad’s hand resting on top of yours, as if he’s trying to tell himself you’re really here.

The sun peeking through the half shut blinds woke you a few hours later. You turned over in the bed, watching your dad’s chest rise and fall beside you. His hulking form taking up most of the bed, you could feel the heat radiating off him. Even in his sleep, the line between his brows remained.

You can’t believe you called your dad, don’t even remember getting out of the car. He must have carried you in and put you to bed.

He still slept with one hand on his chest, dog tags hidden underneath his T-shirt, but you could still see the outline of them near his shoulder. Nicks and scrapes curved his bicep, you’d never seen them before. Red angry marks and faded ones of pink he normally hid under long sleeves.

The bedroom like every other base you’d stayed in whenever you visited him growing up on weekends here and there. White walls, cold wood beneath your fuzzy socks as your feet padded across the floor. Nothing but a box with a bed in the middle and small drawers either side.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, tracing the medical tape above your brow. The red stains that once clung to your hairline and forehead were clean, a purple bruise forming in its place.

Picking your hold-all from the floor, you slipped it over your shoulder and pressed your ear against the door. You couldn’t pick up any noise outside, just your dad’s low snores filling the bedroom. Probably from all those cigars he’d been smoking.

The alarm clock on the beside drawer flashed eight, thirty seven. You wanted to crawl back under the covers and sleep for another five hours, but you didn’t fancy having the conversation with your dad. How everything would unravel and lead him to finding out why you chose to leave with your boyfriend, like there was no other option. Because there wasn’t.

You pushed the door open, regretting the action as your eyes fell on the man at the kitchen table. His broad shoulders shifting at the sound of your footsteps.

There’s no use sneaking out the house, not when a team of highly trained men are living under one roof. That and the security surrounding the place.

Simon Riley, the masked driver who hadn’t said a word to you. Now you know why he covered up, the scar on his jawline lead to the neck line of his t-shirt. You tried not to stare too long, your gaze flitting to the sweater hugging his muscular arms. He could crush you in a second.

“You’ll have to wait for your old man to sign you out of the base,” Simon said through a mouth full of cereal. “Cuppa on the side for you, heard you moving about.” He pointed to the counter behind you, steam still rising from the kettle next to it.

Of course he did, probably been waiting to catch you sneaking out. Loyal to their captain the lot of them. You walked over to the small kitchenette and grabbed the strong brewed tea.

The front door opened, another guy walking through the porch and kicking his trainers off. Sweat clung to his body, T-shirt like a second skin on his visible six pack beneath. You couldn’t stop staring till he opened his mouth. Thick Scottish accent as he spoke to himself, plucking his headphones out of his ears.

He looked around your age or slightly older, not as rough and rugged as Simon or your dad. You cringed at the comparison, not wanting to think of dad as being desirable to other women.

“Ah you must be the captains daughter,” he said, reaching around you to grab a protein bar on the side. “I’m Soap,” he chuckled as your brows furrowed. “Johnny, Soaps my call sign.”

“Well that’s unfortunate,” you mumbled, sitting down at the at the table opposite Simon. Hot cup nestled between your hands. “That to remind you to have a wash?”

You edged back in your seat, the stench of sweat hitting you as Soap walked closer.

Simon’s narrowed gaze flitted from Soap to you, but he didn’t say anything. His spoon clinking the bottom of his bowl as he tried to scoop up the last remnants of cereal. If you didn’t know any better he was rushing.

“What’s yours? Hawk, no… Hulk?” Your focus darted back to Simon, anything to distract you from the hot, but sweaty guy out of the corner of your eye.

He didn’t entertain your curiosity, his chair scraping back as he collected his bowl and dumped it into the dishwasher. Soap’s deep laugh rumbled beside you, shaking his Mohawk head and disappearing down the hallway.

You found yourself leaning to one side, trying to catch a glimmer of Soaps back as he peeled his T-shirt off. John Price, however blocked the way, your back shooting back against the chair.

Simon shared a brief look with your dad, clapping him on the shoulder as he too retreated from the room.

“Damned thing keeps beeping,” John said, dropping your phone on the table. “Can’t answer it, the screen’s cracked to shit,” he grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes as he dragged his feet to the kitchen and made himself a black coffee.

Classic captain.

You stared at the cracked screen, a chain of texts and missed calls from your ex. It beeped again, your mother’s name lighting the screen.

“You gonna tell me what that’s all about?” John said leaning back in his seat, his cup of coffee balancing on his knee instead of the table. His seat at the top of the table right next to you, his knee nudging yours.

The cup in your hand no long gave you that biting sting, the tea turning cold under your stare. “Things just got bad and I can’t go back to mums.” You shrugged it off like it was no big deal, not daring to meet your dad’s eyes.

“Boyfriend?” He said pointing to your face. You nodded, wishing you hadn’t as the pounding in your head grew stronger.

He peeled your left hand away from your mug. “Where did you hit him?” He asked tracing the broken skin of your knuckles. Nothing got by the captain.

“I think I broke his nose,” you mumbled, head dipping to stare at your lap and the pattern pj trousers.

The captains head bopped up and down. “That’s good, I take it he’s alright if he’s contacting you.” He might as well have asked if he was breathing.

“How is that good?” You snapped, ripping your hand from him and pushing your chair back with you.

“You were defending yourself kid, look at ya!” His booming voice startled you, his hand flinging to your face as if you needed a reminder.

On instinct you flinched at his abrupt movement. Your body freezing and eyes clamping shut.

You opened your eyes, Simon talking in hushed tones to your dad. The captain staring at you, glassy eyed and frown tugging his lips down. And once again you’ve hurt your dad, made him feel bad.

“Why don’t we get Toff, to check her over. Another women might make her more comfortable?"

They weren't even talking to you, but about you. Too consumed with a plan than you moving. "Check yourselves over," you said, snatching your bag from the floor and rushing to the porch.

The door close, but you were yanked back by the strap of your bag. You wanted to lean towards the door, anything to escape the horror of your fuck up. One flinch and you knew, the captain was questioning everything in your life that would cause you to react like that.

"One check up, if you want to leave after I'll sign you out. No questions asked," John pleaded, knuckles turning white as they tightened around the strap of your bag.

"Okay."

[Part two]

Not me thinking about Price’s daughter and Soap 😅 I think he’s the youngest out of all of them? Mid twenties. This was also a lot longer than I planned, I just kept writing more. Huge possibility there are errors as I'm dyslexic and I'm writing for fun.

👀 Do you want another part??? - Leya

[rainb0ws-h4t]

Heartslabyul

continuation of my other post cuz I have motivation now. Kinda changed ur personality a bit, URE a boss now

Continuation of this

Tw: stalking, yandere themes , mentions of blood, hate comments online, slight manipulation(?),

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Before you properly formed a friendship with Yuu, you never interacted with him. Not that you wanted to anyway, he was too strict for you and it was clear you two wouldn't get along with each other.

Of course, you two sometimes caught glimpses of each other in the hallways and library, but neither you or Riddle were interested to chat.

You heard stories of him and his overblot, and you did feel slight sympathy for the man. After all, it wouldn't easy overblotting and dealing with the aftermath. You just hoped he'd recover and everything would go back to the normal and mundane school days like before. This was the farthest your nonexistent relationship with Riddle went.

As you and Yuu became closer though, you heard a few passing whispers on how Riddle became prone to lashing out at others more often. Something about Yuu not attending his tea parties again? Although he did make up for it by properly apologizing, it did cause the students of the Heartslabyul dorm to be cautious of him again.

It was a small break in between classes, and you just kinda wanted a few minutes of being by yourself. Absolutely nothing can compare to the comfort of solitude. You were holding a few books from the library, wanting to catch up more on Trein's history lesson.

You were enjoying the peace and quiet until—

"Don't you ever attempt to act this foolishly in my presence again! Off with your head!" The familiar redhead raised his magic pen and summoned a collar that chained itself around the necks of two students. He crossed his arms, "Maybe this will teach you how to behave as a proper human being, rather than some uncivilized bufoon-" He interrupted himself as he caught sight of your figure down the hall.

Noticing his distracted state, the two students scurried off. Riddle's gaze darkened immensely as he marched towards you. You were not sure if his anger was directed to you or someone else. Your head quickly whipped around if anyone else was the cause for his darkened stare. By the time you looked back at him, he was already right in front of you.

"Do you really assume that the Prefect actually holds the slightest bit of interest towards someone like you?" He spoke, tone dripping with malice.

"Excuse me..?"

"You don't even hold a candle to the Prefect, so don't even bother attempting to do any more damage than you already have done." As expected of the housewarden of Heartslabyul, always so stern and strict...

"Why are you speaking for them? It's clear that if the Prefect didn't want to form a friendship with me then they wouldn't have. You're acting as if I'm forcing them to be friends with me."

"Don't speak back to me." His anger flaring up once again. "I am in a much higher position than you are, and I command you to never speak or even be near to the Prefect ever again!"

Your gaze hardens the more he speaks, "Using your position to force someone to never speak to their friend again because someone can't contain their sensitive feelings? And I thought a Housewarden should know better than to abuse their power."

Riddle's face turned to shock as his voice was hitched in his throat, not finding the ability to speak. You took this as a sign to walk away, the power Riddle held was more than anything you could ever achieve. You were lucky he didn't immediately blow up on you.

~~

Riddle was stunned.

He wasn't used to anyone holding their ground against him. Of course, there were times that it did happen (ace—ahem) but this was different. The fact they didn't seem the slightest bit scared of him intrigued him. Their hardened gaze never faltered, and their words remained sharp and steady.

Huh.

Maybe the Prefect was on to something. He was starting to see the appeal. After his anger had cooled and he started going about his regular schedule , the image of you standing your ground against him just never left his mind.

He stalked observed you from afar and was able to see different parts of you that he wanted to explore. That day when you argued with him was only one side of you that you showed to him. Your playful side, serious side, quiet side, and so many more.

His preferences never left the Prefect, but somehow, your enigmatic personality draws him in.

Riddle describes you as a rose. The deep red petals mesmerizing his mind, reminding him of every single part of you that he has yet to explore. His hand would grip the stem tighter, the thorns prickling at his fair skin. The blood would stain his pristine white clothing, but he wouldn't care. If it meant that he gained more time to take in your hypnotizing beauty, then what was there to lose?

CATER DIAMOND

Cater always rubbed you the wrong way.

His smiles never reached his eyes, the boisterous personality he expresses definitely felt off. Everything he did just seemed like an attempt to cover up something.

You never approached him before you and Yuu became close, you doubt you would be able to keep up with his upbeat energy without exhausting yourself. You did, however, stalk his account sometimes when you just felt like it.

There was this one time that Yuu mentioned Cater asking for your Magicam username. You didn't think into it too much because it could've just been him being curious or just for the randomness.

That was until your Magicam account started getting bashed on for absolutely no reason did you start connecting the dots. You had only a few posts that were all from last year and the comments and replies were just hating on you intensely

You couldn't think of anyone else responsible other than Cater. The intervals between his posts were usually 1-2 days long but there was these two posts that had a week long interval. It could've just been a coincidence, but that week was the same week you've been getting all these hate comments.

To confirm your suspicions, you created a burn account and checked Cater's profile again. Safe to say, there were multiple posts containing fake information and unreal images of texts between your account and his. He must've just blocked you from seeing those posts, that must've been the reason why you weren't able to view those on your main account.

The notifications from the haters (as much as you hate to admit) got to you, even if you didnt do anything. The comments stung. You hadn't done any wrong so why did it hurt? This caused you to be more detached from social media, your view of it dimming by each hate comment.

You ultimately made the decision to delete your account, afraid that if you waited any longer and your personal information would get leaked. That and you planned to confront Cater. You normally wouldn't resort to confrontation, but you refused to take the disrespect. Plus, you'd doubt he'd stop without someone stepping up to him.

It was around lunch when you, grim and the prefect sat together. They had to leave for a few minutes for the bathroom. You silently scanned the cafeteria, checking for a familiar ginger male. You noticed him walking right past where you were sitting. Funny how he thought he had the audacity to ignore you when he started an online bash against you for existing.

"Do you think I wouldn't be able to find out?" You asked, back facing Cater as he froze in his steps.

He immediately turned around, that same fake grin plastered on his face like tape. "Oh, heya!" He waved his hand. "Uh.. Were you talking to me?" He questioned, a slight quiver in his eyebrow.

"You're the one who started that online hate train for me, right?" You turned your head to face him.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"Don't act stupid with me. You're much more conniving than you present yourself to be." You stood up, facing him fully.

Cater hesitated to speak, "Sorries! But I'm not sure what you're talking about! But hey, send me a dm if you wanna talk more. Gotta go, peace!" He made a peace sign with his hands, before making an attempt to flee the scene.

Although before he could exit, a loud slap ran loud through the cafeteria. Everyone's eyes immediately locked on the source of the sound.

Cater's eyes widened as his cheek suddenly stung with burning pain. He brought a hand to slowly cup his reddened cheek as his eyes locked on to your serious ones.

"Didn't you hear me? I said don't play stupid with me." He continued to stare. "I wasn't planning to make this dispute a big deal if you had just admitted to me you did it." You took a step closer to him.

"W-wha.."

You raised your hand, readying to slap him again harder.

"(Name)? Hey, what happened?" The prefect spoke, sensing the tense atmosphere. Your raised arm slowly lowered.

"Myah, why's everyone staring at us?" Grim asked as he casted a curious glance at everyone in the room.

With one last look you shot him, you exited the cafeteria immediately with Yuu running after you. Cater still stood there, quiet. His hand still cupping his stinging cheek. His ears ringing as it blocked out the whispers that spread through the space.

___

Cater sat on his bed, phone in hand as he tried to figure out what to post. A few students had already posted about what happened earlier during lunch. Sevens, this was bad... Each letter he type was deleted a few seconds later, and each idea he had was scrapped.

His focus wasn't completely on his screen though. It kept flickering towards... you. You humiliated him in front of many, and almost outed him for what he did online and yet...

He wasn't mad.. no, he was intrigued. At first, he was mad that the prefect slowly gained the confidence to refute his dates and selfie ideas when they started hanging out with you. He thought your influence was the reason his relationship with Yuu slowly fell apart, his insecurities flaring up and blaming you.

One of the main reasons he sent a hate train to bash account.

But ever since he saw you up close, how he wished Yuu could embody every single trait of yours that you held. So maybe then could they be more like you— identical even. But even then that wouldn't be enough. He always thought you were this reserved and quiet kid who would never stand up to anyone unless the situation really called for it.

That entire dispute at the cafeteria changed his whole perspective on you entirely.

Cater started taking selfies with you in the background, some people even thought you and Cater made up. The hate towards you slowly dissapeared, thanks to Cater.

It wasn't long before Cater eventually swayed the internet into thinking that you and him were dating off screen. The rumors started coming in rapidly, after all, Internet celeb Cater Diamond had a partner!

Though, everything was denied by you personally. With you posting a statement that what the internet made you two to be was just a giant misunderstanding, and that you and him were nothing more than just acquaintences. Unfortunately, Cater's voice in the social platform held more power than yours ever will.

As you turned off your phone to focus on walking back to your dorm, a camera shutter suddenly sounds.

TREY CLOVER

Trey was... ordinary you guess. Sure, he was a great vice-housewarden and an amazing baker but nothing about him struck you. Unlike the others, Trey was laid-back and relaxed and never involved himself unless the situation called for it.

So you were confused when Yuu confessed that Trey intimidated them the most in Heartslabyul. You didn't understand though, he seemed nice and you never sensed any strange or even creepy behaviour from him to Yuu.

Yuu was invited to another Unbirthday party by those two freshmen who hung around them constantly. Unfortunately, the prefect wasn't able to refute their persistance.

"I'll go with you." You offered.

"Huh..?" Yuu looked up at you.

"I said I'll go with you. You're uncomfortable going by yourself, right?"

They stared into your eyes for a few seconds, "You'd do that for me?" They muttered.

"Sure, we're friends after all."

With that, you forced (even if you offered) yourself to go to the party with Yuu. You couldn't just leave them by themselves especially when you know how they felt around those boys.

As you walked, you immediately avoided making your appearance known. You'd rather drip dead right there than maintain a civil conversation with Riddle and Cater. Yuu stuck beside you though, seemingly more attached to you than ever. Of course, it was inevitable that Riddle and Cater noticed you two.

You excused yourself for the bathroom after asking Yuu if they'd be fine. You wandered around Heartslabyul, you probably should've asked for directions.... But oh well. As you continued walking around the dorm, you stumbled on a cute kitchen. No one was inside it currently.

Interested, you explored the space. It seemed recently used; with bowls in the sink, the mixers still plugged in, and the oven warm. It was clearly for the party outside and the one who inhabited the kitchen was probably still outside. That means you were alone...

A creek from the door you entered alerted you,

"(Name)?" A familiar dark green haired male entered the kitchen.

"Trey? How'd you know my name?" You asked, not remembering talking to Trey or even telling him your name.

"And how'd you know mine?" A small smile formed in his face.

"Well, Yuu told me about you." You responded.

"Riddle and Cater told me about you too." You observed a slight wariness in him as he spoke. You wondered what Riddle and Cater made you out to be..

Not knowing how to continue the conversation, "So... you bake?" You asked.

"Yeah, I do. My family ran a bakery where I'm from so it's only natural I'd also learn to bake." He replied.

"Do you... do you want help in cleaning the place? It'd probably go faster if you have someone helping ya." You offered, feeling slightly bad that you were leaving Yuu by themselves even longer.

"Huh? You don't have to trouble yourself really. I made the mess and I should clean it up." Trey started moving towards the dirty dishes in the sink.

You moved in front of him to prevent him from getting any closer to the sink. "And I desperately need an excuse to not go back outside at the moment."

Trey appeared surprised for a moment, "You don't plan on moving anytime soon, are you?"

"Yeah." You responded blankly.

Trey smiled, "I guess it would be better with company."

You and Trey spent the next 20 minutes together cleaning the kitchen. It was peaceful, barely any chatter was involved between you two.

As you headed back to the party, you couldn't help but wonder why Trey intimidated Yuu the most. He was nice and a hard worker. Immediately after noticing your presence, Yuu jumped in your arms and kept blabbering about how they were glad you were safe and unharmed.

You're not sure if that's what started it, but Trey has lately been inviting you over to Heartslabyul for baking sessions. You've started enjoying his company even more, his sweet tarts are just a plus.

___

Trey didn't understand Cater and Riddle.

Riddle made you out to be this insolent and misbehaving buffoon that had no place in a prestigous college like NRC. He also did mutter how you should spend more time at Heartslabyul so that you'd be influenced by their traditions.

Cater complained about you. How you almost outed him and humiliated him in the cafeteria. But then he also whined complained about how you kept ignoring him in hallways and his dms!

So it was no surprise that he developed a slightly dimmed view of you as the two continued talking. But he always avoided making assumptions, so he didn't just regard you as a douche right off the bat.

Color him surprised when you turned out to be so nice. You offered to help him clean and initiated a conversation with ease.

Trey felt a sense of pride that the nice side you showed him wasn't being presented to Riddle or Cater. Feeling slightly special that he was able to be friendly with you unlike the aforementioned two. You were so friendly, how could you ever be the same insolent brat Riddle mentioned?

He started inviting you more often than normal, even expecting you to show up without telling you. He wanted— needed to see that soft side of yours. That addicting smile you sent him every time made all the gears in his head stop working.

C'mon, don't you like baking with him?

___

Yuu has been discouraging you to go though, but you've always brushed their warnings off. You convinced yourself that you could always see through someone's facade, no matter how well they conceal their true intentions. It worked on Cater, right?

But.. you find it harder and harder to refuse his invitations. His saddened expression, his disappointed "oh..", and his guilt tripping remarks.

You really should've listened to Yuu.

ACE & DEUCE (it's easier for me to write them tgt)

Ace and Deuce were annoyed how the prefect suddenly distanced themselves from them. They were even more irked when they realized it was because of another person. How can the prefect just abandon them like that? The two were practically the first friends they made here!

In response, the two ambushed the unwilling prefect at random times and dragged them away to hang out together. That was when they first met you.

You and Yuu we're sharing a small conversation between each other, just the two of you under the comforting shade of a tree. The serene atmosphere disturbed by the two goofs who approached you two unwanted and unannounced.

"Prefect, we've been looking for you!" Deuce exclaimed as he stopped right in front of you.

Ace came running behind him, panting. "You couldn't have waited a few seconds for me you jerk?" He remarked as he caught his breath.

Yuu looked at the two boys Infront of them, nervous and fidgety. "Oh.. Ace and Deuce, what are you guys doing here..?"

"Wellll..... Professor Crewel gave me a really complicated project to make up for that test I missed last week.." Ace explained while scratching his head, ultimately leaving out an important detail where he intentionally missed that test cause he knew Professor Crewel would give him an extra hard project to make up for it.

"He's basically asking you to help him! And plus, you haven't hung out with us all day, so maybe this can make up for it!" Deuce eagerly spoke.

Sevens, these two boys are so hopeless... You remember seeing Ace wandering the courtyard the day of Crewel's test, and only conveniently making an appearance after the test ended. They'd go that far just to have an excuse with the prefect. Have they even courted an actual person before?

"You've spent too much time with your friend already, don't ya think?" Ace stated, not asking, stating.

"You guys can always hang out another time, right?" The two were persistent, you'd give them that.

Yuu fiddle with the ends of their blazer, not sure if what they really wanted to say would appease them. "Well.. I'm not sure if-"

"I know you're free today~" Ace tried to play it off as a joke with a laugh, which in return, came out more menacing.

"Stop it." You intervened.

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

The two said in sync.

"The prefect has been feeling sick. I'd rather they avoid coming into contact with chemicals." You lied, hoping they'd buy it. Yuu turned to you in surprise.

"What? But Yuu has been fine the entire day?" Deuce confusedly said.

"You're lying." Ace furrowed his brows.

"I'm not." You replied.

"Okay, prove it." Ace's irritation becoming more palpable by the second.

"Just ask Yuu."

Then all the eyes turned to the prefect, two sides awaiting and wanting completely different answers. They hesitated, but spoke with sureness in their voice. "Yeah.. I've been feeling a bit down casted today. I just didn't want to make it obvious.."

You turned to face Ace again, "See?" The seemed to have hit Ace he wrong way when his fists visibly clenched.

"Then you have to go back to ramshackle and rest immediately! We'll escort you.." Deuce offered, a slight red tinting his cheeks at the last part of his offer.

Ace placed his facade on again, "Yeah! We'll even cook soup for you!"

Yuu's conflict to choose between either you or the two boys was growing by the second. Normally, they'd just go along with what everyone said. That's how they have always been. But that was also before you came into the picture. "I.."

"They're fine with me." You said.

"You can stop speaking for them, y'know." Ace crossed his arms.

"What do you think Yuu?" Deuce asked, still eagerly waiting for Yuu's answer.

But Yuu knew who they'd feel more safe with, "I'm fine with them. You really don't have to trouble yourself with-"

"It's really no problem! I can take care of you the entire time while youre sick!" Deuce invaded their personal space and held their hands in his.

Just as Ace was about to but in, you spoke.

"The two of you either must be blind or just ignorant." You slowly pushed Deuce off of Yuu. "Can't you see that they DON'T wanna go with you two? Seriously, is it really that hard to read the room?"

The two were quiet for a moment.

"Oh yeah? And who are you to be talking for them like you're doin' them a favor?" Ace's expression darkened visibly.

Deuce cracked his knuckles, "For all we know, you're probably the one who's forcing Yuu to stay with them!"

"Right! That must be the reason why they even started hanging out with you!" Ace accused.

"Or have you ever considered the idea that they actually like me?" You asked.

"Oh please, the prefect could never like someone like you!" Ace yelled.

"You're not showing us anything to like about you right now, so I doubt the prefect could hold a positive opinion for you!" Deuce continued.

"Why should I present someone any likeable qualities when I want them to hate me?" You said.

Just as Ace and Deuce were about to retort, another voice barged in.

"Bad and tardy pups. I expect the two of you in my classroom this instant." Professor Crewel stood behind the boys, who instantly turned from mad to shivering.

You sighed in relief as the two boys finally left, glad their suffocating and persisting presence finally exited. You turned to Yuu who seemed to be staring at you with... Admiration?

They quickly shook their head, snapping them out of their trance. "Thanks a lot.. Im not sure what I would've done without you."

"Don't mention it." You smiled at them.

___

Ace dreaded seeing you whenever you were with Yuu. You always gathered all their attention effortlessly, he used to be able to do that... That's why he hated you. Some part of his mind told him that the prefect got bored of him, so that's why he'll try to get them back!

He'd purposely catch you at times whenever you were with Yuu, so that he'd attempt to impress them by humiliating you. Except... He'd always leave as the defeated. He even tried punching you, but he missed when you dodged instantly.

This one-sided rivalry started an addiction.

He had this rush of adrenaline whenever he argued with you, and he chased after that sensation by the second. Ace wasn't even sure if this was even for Yuu anymore. He was lost in whatever spell you casted onto him that fateful day under the tree.

You made him taste something that ignited a spark within his soul, and he'll forever chase after it.

Deuce wasn't the same case... Well, kind've bit not exactly. He wanted the prefect's attention, how did he achieve that however? He stalked observed you. You were the sole reason the prefect started this sudden change of theirs. How you captivated the prefect in such a short amount of time confused him...

In other words, he was jealous. Jealous of how easily you handled him that day. Jealous of how you could fight back without losing your temper. Jealous of how easily you enamoured Yuu. That's why he'll simply observe you from afar and copy your techniques!

But then.. he started wondering how he could impress you as well... He invited the prefect over to his club to originally impress them with how fast he could run. But when he saw you sitting together with the prefect, he started running and running— Heck, the winds were probably struggling to catch up with him— until he reached the end. He beat his old record, but he didn't focus on that.

When he saw that bewildered look in your face, something in him obsessively started planning even more crazier stunts to have you captivated and jaw-hanging as you stared at him.

That's right... keep your attention on him and him only.

___

Finally done <333

Can't say I'm proud I'm just glad I'm finished with this tbh

It might be ooc sorry yalllzzzz 💔

i might write some alternatives to this cuz I some good ideas!!!

People who wanted to be tagged: @fancyhawk45 @brights-place @avalordream @kthehoeforfictionalmen