#tw derangement LMAO

[pezpenser205]

lucky for me, an attention addicted trans person in the south who also hates commitment, the only thing people in texas enjoy more than picking on and wishing death upon trans people is sexualizing and fucking them before pretending they never met them.

for a normal person this would be nightmarish, however, because i see humans as worthless and vain creatures with no psychological ability to engage with me beyond surface level sex stuff and socialization and parallel play i only benefit from this situation.

if you never expect loyalty or genuine, deep rooted connection then you can get what you want from people and dip whenever you want to. if you dont like anything anyone does you can just leave them and theres always someone else near instantly because everyone is replaceable when you take away the expectation of meaning.

i literally cannot be taken advantage of anymore because im doing it back. i see why people always did this to me now. this is awesome. i think younger me was just stupid and sensitive with too high of expectations for human beings, bc lets be real humans are absolutely not capable of longterm loyalty or devotion like i expected them to be a few years ago tbh. they want to believe they are but they arent like my species. realizing im not a human at all has made this so much simpler. they just dont get me because they cant.

movies and stories are like. what if the world were made of pudding type scenarios. they arent real and have little to no resemblance to real humans. theyre what humans wish they could be. theyre like if people were actually capable of higher thought and emotional reasoning but most of if not all humans are dumb as bricks in every regard and bring nothing of value but temporary fun before they get annoying or decide to be assholes.

id rather just take what i want and leave if theyre going to continue to prove themselves unworthy of my attention this way. like i said before, lucky for me they were already aiming to do that to me first, so i dont have to worry about hurting their feelings. its mutual and for sure not personal in any way.

[tetratheripper]

Toxic yuri brainrot

[sweetmapple]

Mostly Hiring manager, but HR manager and PR manager too

[multi-fandomdisaster]

New headcanon that literally every household in Hatchetfield has an axe somewhere. It's like the rest of America with keeping a gun in the house for self-defense. Be it a hatchet (more common) or a full-on axe (slightly less common, but not unheard of by any means), everyone in Hatchetfield has at least one.

[memekeymouse]

hey remember how I talked about how it was a miracle that mickey didn’t lose his shit over like. everything he found out about in EM?

to put it simply. consider this an AU where he did, in fact, lose his shit (and the Blot inside him took advantage of that)

imagine finding out you were made to be someone’s replacement. and that ‘someone’ is actually your brother who now wishes you didn’t exist because you just keep on ruining his life. and it’s all enough to make you question YOUR life, if ANYTHING good that’s happened to you is something you actually earned or if you ‘stole’ it too. and hey, if your own brother was so expendable, who’s to say you aren’t either?

yeah. I think that would break anyone, and in this case the blot really saw mickey having his existential crisis and being like ‘I CAN MAKE HIM WORSE’ which is how we got here. oops

I just think Plane Crazy Mickey is a cool look that you can easily work with for horror stuff. In-universe uhhhhhh something something Plane Crazy being the era where Mickey was kind of a dick but also the farthest from being famous yet so there was. a certain freedom to it that he can no longer enjoy now that he’s so well known

[m4rki3fox]

I love him so fucking much. I just spelled his name out on my leg with my blood ^w^

[fat-psychward-sockgrippussy333]

✨✨✨

[a-hazbin-reader]

love the chaotic-ness of platonic alastor and reader of your posts!! the way you write him is more canon compliant but that makes it even more GREAT. can i req platonic alastor (+maybe rosie as a trio?) with overlord!reader. they just talk shit about the Vees and stuff lmao and do it openly on his radio show. hang out at rosie’s. maybe alastor gets reader to support the hotel too and everyone’s to alastor is like THEM?? You know THEM??? alastor’s like yeah lol we blow stuff up every tuesday and broadcast it where you at

OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST-

Alastor X Reader X Rosie Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Alastor and Rosie cannibalism

Description: 👆⬆️

The three of you are very busy demons who have demanding jobs so getting together doesn't happen as often as you'd like

But when you get together??? It's almost like you're all a bunch of gossiping old women instead of powerful deadly overlords

Rosie brings the snacks(bring your own if you don't want people meat), Alastor provides the venue, and you pick the topic of discussion

The first podcast was entirely an accident, Alastor forgetting he was on air when you and Rosie suddenly burst in

ALASTOR YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED

He gets so sucked into what you're saying that he forgets about his radio show and everything the three of you are saying is being broadcast live

But a lot of people are tuning into it??? Like everyone is so entertained by the three of you and your conversation

Once you three realize what happened then you all agree that this must become a weekly occurrence

Even the other overlords listen in on it every once in a while, finding it hilarious

Vox is absolutely livid because he's being IGNORED, why is nobody watching tv anymore???

He tries to get you and Rosie on his show instead but the two of you don't even take the offer seriously

The chemistry would be all off without Alastor's sparkling humor anyways

Which makes him throw a huge tantrum that becomes the next topic between the three of you

Y'all are just trashing this man at this point

It's his own fault for providing you three with so much ammo

But nobody is safe

It's just a fun little gossip podcast that somehow blows up and turns into this gigantic thing

But it gives you three an excuse to hang out

Whenever the conversation starts to drift towards the hotel you try to stay out of it for your own reasons

And it does always go back to the hotel, Alastor is running a business afterall

Alastor slowly starts to warm you up to the idea of his hotel, whatever your motivations are or if you believe in it

Rosie also encourages you to at least humor him and go see it

Easy for you say, he's not pressuring YOU

So you give in one day, accompanying Alastor to the hotel

Huh, Alastor wasn't joking when he said that Lucifer's daughter was his partner 🤔

You're not entirely surprised when you see the shocked looks everyone gives Alastor when they see you

WTF ALASTOR WHEN YOU SAID Y/N WAS COMING I DIDN'T THINK YOU MEANT Y/N THE OVERLORD

Who else would it have been, Vaggie???

Everyone nervously watches you and Alastor interact, it's two extremely powerful beings in one hotel

Except for Niffty, she greats you like an old friend, climbing all over you and making maniacal noises

Husk and Niffty are the only ones not surprised by your friendship, knowing that you and Alastor are good friends

They fill the others in on your relationship when they think you two aren't listening

It's almost funny hearing it come from someone else, you had nearly forgotten how you two met

"That's right..! I DID try to kill you! That's so funny!"

"Isn't it? And I do believe I nearly bit your hand clean off!"

You two are fucking deranged

You have a better understanding of why Alastor wants so much support for this hotel now

And you're a little surprised that Charlie seems to believe so genuinely in the idea of redeeming a soul

Regardless of if you're sold in the idea or not, you agree to support the hotel for Alastor

But now you're going to rope Rosie in with you too, if you're gonna go down then the three of you are going down together

But that's unlikely to happen, Alastor wouldn't lead you guys into a death trap

He's never steered you wrong before

This was so fun to write!!

[yinyuedijun]

end notes for zero-sum game (tw: slavery, sexual abuse)

hi if you're here it means you read my deranged aventurine smut. thank you for reading that abomination lmao I hope you enjoyed it 😭 once again I've touched on really sensitive topics and don't want to be misread so I'm writing some disclaimers/explanations below:

In the act of gambling with human stakes, as well as doing business with human traffickers, Aventurine is essentially himself engaging in human trafficking. This is not something he particularly enjoys doing or wishes to exploit (which I did try to indicate in the narrative); he only does this for his role with the IPC. 

The reason I made this a narrative about human trafficking is not because I wish to glamorize this crime. I framed the narrative this way because I wanted to point out how Aventurine actively perpetuates the kind of capitalistic violence that ruined his life by being a Stoneheart. This is something that is implicit in the game but not openly explored, hence I expanded on it here.

Somewhat thematically related: the reader actively engages in self-objectification—using it neutrally as a tool for their espionage work at times, but also positively in order to eroticize their one-sided and exploitative relationship with Aventurine. This was not intended to condone the objectification of human beings; rather, I wanted to show how a lifetime of sexual objectification and extreme dehumanization as a slave has led them to objectify and dehumanize themselves, sometimes even in the capacity of enjoying it. 

Aventurine in canon similarly engages in self-objectification and dehumanization as a trauma response  (i.e. he refers to himself as a chip in a positive manner, clearly as a reaction to how his owner referred to him callously as a chip when he was a slave), though in my opinion he's not really implied to derive any real joy from the idea.

Related to the point of objectification: Aventurine and the reader clearly do not engage in particularly safe, sane or consensual sexual dynamics (specifically referring to how he started undressing them before they fully consented to public sex and just kind of decided what to do with them without prior discussion). This is not because I think this is acceptable behaviour; it is a reflection of their unequal power dynamic that the reader actively encourages and Aventurine is fine with perpetuating. It is also implied to be the result of his own distorted relationship with sex—he has literally been coerced into doing exactly the same thing in the very same establishment, and assumed that the reader would be fine with doing it too because they generally enjoy it when he exercises "ownership" over them, which they both associate with sexual control for traumatic reasons.

I've seen discourse around the fandom where people interpret the act of kissing Aventurine’s commodity code as a purely sexual or fetishizing action. I thus feel compelled to explain that the act of Aventurine and reader kissing each other’s codes in this story served a specific purpose within the wider narrative about dehumanization. I wrote a lot of things in this fic purely because I was ungodly levels of horny for Aventurine (lol), but those particular actions actually had narrative weight lol 

With all this being said, I hope it is clear that the reason I chose to focus on themes of slavery and dehumanization is not because I intend to promote or glamorize them, but because I wanted to explore specific points of Aventurine’s characterization that exist in canon. The theme of sexual abuse (and its psychological fallout) is also something that is a natural extension of his story arc in canon. I have no wish to perpetuate any of these things, and I have faith that my audience can distinguish fiction from reality and thus will not have their perspectives on real life issues be seriously influenced by my dumb horny fic on tumblr dot com. 

Also I should hope this is obvious but do not use your regular everyday gloves to finger someone! I like to imagine that Aventurine’s expensive science fiction gloves has the incredible ability to remain sterile in everyday circumstances 👍

[thewhumpcaretaker]

GRAH!!!!

i just thought of something bc of ur cavity fic which is vincent kissing chidi’s arrow wound after the osaka scene aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa they’re so silly and deranged<3

Aaaaaaa I really struggled with this one, I think because it's the first time I've written them during the events of the movies and this is a crisis moment for both of them. It made me get stuck on the fact that John is inevitably coming for them :( But I think I offered some amount of hope for a happy ending - it's open to interpretation. Honestly you can ignore like the whole second half if you just don't want to think about that part lmao...

-⚜- Torn Open for You -⚜-

TW: kissing open wounds, discussion of murder

Image Sources: Left (my screenshot) | Right | Kiss

Chidi’s text had come a half hour ago to say that the plane had landed. At such times, he told Vincent his every move, keeping in constant contact just as he would if they were side by side, perpetually on the verge of touching. But it wasn’t enough – Vincent was still pacing with nerves when the door finally opened.

“Chidi!” It was too intimate a tone for a boss, but the past day had worn him down, and he called out the moment they saw each other. He needed to feel safe again. He needed Chidi not just as his bodyguard, but as his husband. And he didn’t realize until that moment that he had been worried almost sick about him. Koji was a formidable foe, and the Osaka Continental was a fortress. Even with all his skills at his disposal and Caine at his side, there had always been a chance…

He was in Chidi’s arms before he could think any more awful things, because Chidi crossed the room immediately and hugged Vincent to his chest. Perhaps he had been equally worried. But all he said was, “Je suis désolé monsieur. [I’m sorry, sir.]”

“Non, vous avez bien fait. [No. You did well.]” He pulled back to look him in the eyes, letting his hands slide down Chidi’s biceps to the wrist. Chidi winced in response, and he looked down to see that there were drops of blood soaking through two layers on his forearm. “Laissez-moi voir. [Let me see.]”

Chidi held it out to let him push the sleeve. Sure enough, there was a wound underneath. It was hastily tied up with a piece of cloth that Vincent untied to reveal a deep cut, mostly stabilized but still trickling.

“Ils t'ont blessé... [[They hurt you…]”

“Une flèche. Ce n’était pas un problème. Je l'ai sorti. [An arrow. It wasn’t a problem. I pulled it out.]”

Vincent sucked in his breath, riding a mixture of lust and protective rage at the image of Chidi ripping an arrow from his arm and continuing the fight as if nothing had happened. He’d seen him like that many times – a force of nature, totally berserk. At moments like that, it was impossible for anyone but Vincent to bring him to heel. Maybe that was true at all times, in fact. His fingers traced the flesh around the wound, feeling the rawness of Chidi’s power, the veins embracing the muscle. “Formidable comme toujours, mon amour. [Formidable as always, my love],” he breathed. “Mais pourquoi n’avez-vous pas reçu de traitement avant de rentrer? [But why didn’t you get treatment before flying back?]”

He shrugged, a little apologetically. “Je pensais qu'il était urgent que je revienne. [I thought it was urgent that I return.]”

It tugged at his heart to imagine Chidi trying to get back to him as quickly as possible. He thought back to moments from their texts: "C'est fini, je reviens immédiatement." "Je serai bientôt avec toi." "Je te verrai avant le coucher du soleil, je le promets." ”Gardez les autres près de vous pendant que vous attendez, s'il vous plaît. C’est dangereux en ce moment.” [“It’s over, I’m coming back immediately.” “I’ll be with you soon.” “I’ll see you before sunset, I promise.” “Keep the others close while you wait, please. It’s dangerous right now.”] Chidi cared so much…

Vincent pulled his forearm upward and planted a kiss right over the bloody mess, slow and tender. Chidi watched him with pure reverence. He licked iron off his lips and pressed them to Chidi’s. Equally slow. Equally tender.

“Je vais vous chercher un médecin tout de suite. [I’ll get you a medic right away.]” His voice came out soft and heady, as it did when they were alone.

“Merci, monsieur.” But they didn’t move away just yet. Vincent cradled that bleeding arm against his heart. For his part, Chidi just caressed Vincent’s cheek, allowing their gazes to hold on each other. It was very, very, unfortunate, Vincent thought, that his phone went off just then.

He dragged himself away from the peace in Chidi’s eyes to glance down at the screen. The horrible pressure of the situation crashed back over him. It was that damn tracker again.

Chidi must have noticed his involuntary snarl. “Quelque chose ne va pas? [Is something wrong?]”

Vincent shoved the phone onto the table a little too hard, without bothering to answer the text. “Cet imbécile exige des augmentations de primes comme des bonbons. Je lui dis non, je reconsidère, je lui dis oui, et il le veut déjà plus haut. [This imbecile has been demanding bounty increases like candy. I tell him no, I reconsider, I tell him yes, and he already wants it higher.]”

Chidi lingered with his mouth open long enough that Vincent gave him permission. “Parler. Vous pensez à quelque chose. [Speak. You’re thinking something.]”

“Monsieur, ça vaut le coup. Dis-lui oui la première fois. Votre vie n'a pas de prix. Peu importe combien il demande. Je veux juste que tu sois en sécurité. [Sir, it’s worth it. Tell him yes the first time. Your life is priceless. It doesn’t matter how much he asks for. I just want you to be safe.]”

Your life is priceless…after a second, Vincent butted his head into his lover’s shoulder to hide the happy blush on his cheeks. “Peut êtreeee... [Mayyyybe…]” he conceded, “Mais il fait ça exprès, il essaie de me ridiculiser. Chaque fois que je lui parle, j’ai l’impression que c’est moi qui me fais poignarder. Il va me faire carrément supplier avant de faire ce qu’on lui dit. J’entends déjà la satisfaction dans sa voix si je dis oui, et il – il apprécie ça, il sait comment je vais et il est… [But he’s doing this on purpose, he’s trying to make a fool out of me. Every time I talk to him, it feels like I’m the one who’s getting stabbed. He’s going to make me outright beg before he’ll do as he’s told. I can already hear the satisfaction in his voice if I say yes, and he’s – he’s fucking enjoying it, he knows how I am and he’s…]”

Chidi tilted his face back up to meet their gazes. Vincent could read anger there. “C’est donc un homme sans valeur. Cela n’a pas d’importance, monsieur. Ce n’est personne. Vous êtes le Marquis de Gramont et vous récupérerez tout ce qu’il vous prendra au dixuple. [He’s a worthless sort of man then. He doesn’t matter, sir. He’s nobody. You’re the Marquis de Gramont and you will get back everything that he takes tenfold.]”

Chidi didn’t talk like this often, didn’t even suggest that the two of them should give in to anyone. Vincent searched his face and found real concern. He was serious, John Wick really scared him.

He couldn’t deny that he felt it too. A terrible dread in the pit of his stomach, like something was coming. Its name was John Wick, and it had to be stamped out.

Vincent considered while Chidi took his hand from off his arm and kissed it. A kiss on the palm. “En plus, c’est un imbécile. Il ne pourra pas profiter de l’argent. [Besides, he’s the fool. He won’t get to enjoy the money.]” A kiss on the knuckles. “Il n’aura même pas l’occasion de se réjouir. Quand ce sera fini, je le tuerai pour avoir joué avec toi dans un moment comme celui-ci. [He won’t even get to gloat. When this is over, I’ll kill him for toying with you at a time like this.]” A kiss on his ring.

Vincent grinned as if his lover had offered to take him out for ice cream. “Est-ce ainsi? [Is that so?]”

“Bien sûr, Marquis. [Of course, Marquis.]”

There were times in his life when he would never have considered debasing himself so much as to say yes to a first offer for a deal, let alone beg to a subordinate. The thought of giving in to this little prick still felt almost physically painful but… the certainty that Chidi would be beside him no matter what made a sliver of a dent in that feeling. “Eh bien. Je vais y penser. [Well then. I’ll think about it.]” For you. If you’ll tear yourself open for me, no matter how much it hurts…well. Maybe I can do the same.

[anirritant]

(This a continuation of previous events found here and here. Also uhh this got longer than I thought and a bit edgier than I planned oops....)

(TW for mentions of torture and murderous intent I guess??? my guy is less-than-hinged lmao. it doesn't go too in-depth)

Okay. Darkrai... hadn't expected this, but, he can't say he doesn't understand how the other him was acting. He knows now that he'd been too hasty in his excitement, babbling and possibly coming across as, well, mildly deranged. He'd usually have more tact, okay? He's had a terribly long day filled with scheming and manipulating and battling and, ahem, acting. As well as a particularly turbulent travel through time, to top off everything else. Could you blame him for slipping a bit when he hasn't been permitted any rest?

So, yes, he certainly may have come across as rather off-putting. Depending on just how far in the past he's been sent, this version of him may not have even thought of messing with time yet, making his claims seem rather out-of-nowhere. Or, the other may believe him to be an illusionary impostor, not being experienced enough to easily see through those cheap tricks (that are, of course, not cheap when used by himself,) like he can now.

He knew exactly why the other reacted like this -- centuries of being endlessly backstabbed would lead anyone to being quite distrustful, and clearly those centuries are fresh memories for his previous self. Centuries more had it taken to refine his ability to pick out truths from deception, and he's led to believe that the other lacks those many latter years of experience.

Though, even extensive experience in detecting a lack of untruths may not've have been enough to mitigate suspicion. If he had been met by his future self who fervently divulged plans to team up for world domination, he'd be ecstatic! Which, of course, would lead straight into suspicion because nothing ever goes his way like that. It'd sound too good to be true. So, yes, he can understand.

But that didn't make it any less irritating and demeaning. Him, HIM, elicitor of nightmares and despair, being dragged about by his hair like an unruly hatchling!? If it weren't necessary to prove he's on the other's side, (if he weren't too injured to fight back,) he'd be tearing the insolent fool to shreds!

As it is, he flails and shrieks indignantly.

"What are you DOING!?", he cries, grabbing at the claws entangled in his hair, "We're on the same side! We have the same goals -- or, well, they aren't your goals yet, but they will be!"

The other simply ignores him and continues pulling him along as he defiantly rakes his legs into the dirt in an ineffective attempt to slow them both. The other glares at the sight of the ruined grass left in their trail but says nothing, continuing to drag him towards the edge of the island, in the opposite direction of the larger landmass. Towards the closer island he'd spotted before.

Ignoring him... Ignoring him!? The nerve--! Had he truly possessed such arrogance in his youth!?

... Well. Don't answer that.

He still hasn't stopped sputtering and ranting even after they've left the land behind and begun traversing the water, forcing him to begin floating as well lest he get his legs wet. And his past self still hasn't said anything! He'd find the self-restraint admirable and compliment himself for it -- the other's accomplishments are his accomplishments, after all -- if it weren't utterly infuriating! He should be using this time allowing his strength to return and concocting a new plan for a global apocalypse, not... this!

Feeling exceptionally petty, he abruptly stops supporting his own weight around three minutes into their traversal over water. He'd been remarkably agreeable so far, he'd say, but he's reached his limit. If his past self was so intent on ignoring his words, and so intent on dragging him who-knows-where, then the other can support the weight of both of them. Hmph.

Next thing he knew, he was being dunked into the water.

He coughed and spat and gagged and wheezed as he shot himself upwards, only to get rudely yanked back down by the hair again. The other had finally paused their journey, and instead was... laughing! At HIM! No, he's had enough, he cannot let this slide! He is the other's senior by centuries, he is the authority here, he would NOT be laughed at!

"You... Y-you--!!" He cut himself off as he started violently heaving again, producing even more laughter from the other.

His breathing became ragged and harsh, a low, animalistic growl ripping from his throat. His claws clenched so hard it was painful and he suspected he had drawn blood, but he didn't care to check.

Now. Darkrai had had a very long, very tiring, exhausting, humiliating, wretched day. But he'd weaseled his way out of it, he thought. He'd gotten out alive, he was somewhere away from those that would've ended him, somewhere even he hadn't recognised, somewhere they would be very hard-pressed to find. Somewhere to rest, regain his strength, and plan another attempt.

Even better, he found who he was certain would be an ally to him. Who better to team up with than himself? No one else would ever understand the unbridled hate bubbling away inside him, no one else would ever share a desire for his ideal world, he'd accepted that and decided long ago that he simply didn't quite care about what others thought.

But now he had someone that would understand, right? Someone he could talk to, right? Someone he could rule the world alongside, right? Someone to treat him with respect for once in his horrid, cursed existence? Right?

So why, why, even now, is humiliation still all he ever endures?

In mere seconds his fury had turned downright murderous. He'd tried explaining himself, he'd avoided violence, he'd tried what amounts to his version of being nice, simply because he was dealing with his own immature self. But his efforts were ignored, and he was reduced to something to laugh at. Of course. Of course! It's nothing new, is it!? Nothing ever changes. Nothing, nothing, nothing. No respect for Darkrai, never ANY respect for Darkrai!

The abrupt urge to kill the prompter of that infernal chorus of phantom laughter echoing in his head was overwhelming. Were it any other being in existence his rage was directed towards, he would have, right there, right now. His claws were trembling, not from the sopping cold, but from the sheer effort it took to not clamp them around that neck and squeeze.

But he cannot. That would have disastrous consequences for himself, and he couldn't have that. And that's fine. Yes, that's fine. Fine.

Because he has a better idea. A much, much better idea.

A delirious calm washes over him. Yes, it's okay that he can't strangle the other to death, you see? His past, young, silly self simply needs guidance. Needs to be taught respect, needs to have the grave error pointed out, needs to recognise the difference in power, the inferiority to him.

There's a proven formula for this. Proven to him, and then by him, again and again and again over his several-millennia-long existence. It always proves true, always, that the only reliable path to respect is to instil sheer, abject terror.

He cannot truly kill the other, but, in his domain, in a nightmare? He can kill, over, and over, and over again. He's done so countless times, in the most creative of ways, and he never grew sick of it. He'd go on and on and on, until his victims lose the energy to scream, and then still on and on some more. He hasn't hated enough to subject a victim to such torment in a while. He'll savour every second...

The other will try to wrench control away from him, he's certain. Drawing upon the same power, attempting to loosen his iron grip, and failing miserably in a way that cements his place at the top. He is older, he is better, more experienced, superior. He will make it happen. He will. He will.

The other has long-since stopped laughing even as the phantom chorus continues, and is instead eyeing him with confusion and a touch of concern. Hah. Hahah. A bit late for that, he thinks.

With a wheezed, stuttering chuckle of his own, he summons the beginnings of his Dark Void to his claws, already vividly picturing just how he'd go about splintering a mind to pieces this time around. A bit of physical torture, then psychological torment, followed by some obliteration of the sense of self -- that was always so very funny to watch, hah, hah...

...

Why was the world spinning?

He hadn't noticed, too absorbed in his vengeful thoughts, but the summoned Dark Void had barely flickered into existence before weakly petering out. He simply didn't have the strength. The exhaustion, the injuries, a jet-lag equivalent for portal travel, and a touch of possible hypothermia had combined to make him quite frail and ill, and the attempt to draw upon his power only sapped away at what little strength remained.

He was teetering in the air even though he was still being held up by its claws, his eyes unfocused as his body shivered and dripped. The other now felt bad for laughing -- he was clearly much less well than he had seemed. Is that why he had stopped maintaining his own hover, before? They had assumed it was a spiteful act and had therefore allowed him to fall... now they felt really bad.

Why hadn't he just said he was unwell?

Pride, its thoughts hummed immediately. If anything was clear about this supposed "future self" of theirs, it was that he was self-absorbed to a comical degree, and utterly seethed when he wasn't the one in control. He was... well, rather foul and unlikeable and very untrustworthy; the mere thought of him insisting the two of them were the same was skin-crawling. But he was unwell, all the same.

The Darkrai that was not on the brink of collapse looked to the distant island, still quite a ways away. Around two hours if one was travelling alone, but if, say, one had to carry around an unconscious double of themself, it'd be quite a lot longer and more exhausting.

With a sigh, they came to a decision. It wouldn't be ideal treatment, but there was a small stash of medical supplies available, if they returned. It would've been much more preferable to visit Cresselia sooner, but it seems that these ailments need addressing immediately rather than after over two hours of travel. So, for now, a careful Hypnosis lulls the injured to sleep as they carry him back to Newmoon Island.

He'd been so out of it that he hadn't noticed to protest... rather sad.

And, no, the look of murderous rage and the feeble attempt to use Dark Void had not gone unnoticed. A cautionary Disable was cast as well.

[lynxtheserval]

So hey y'all. I died, but I got better hehehe HAAA!! (Clash of Clans / personal joke reference go brrrrr)

So anyway, I got sudden inspiration for a very specific scenario with a Yandere Subspace x Reader who tried to run away with a faulty Biograft

Idk man it just popped into my head LMAO

Anyway I might make a part two, depends on how this turns out!

Yandere Subspace X Reader who tried to run away with a faulty Biograft!

(TW: Needles, Drugging, Being held Forcefully, Murder, Yandere Shit, Maybe OOC Subspace, been a while since I've written)

“NO!” You shouted, unable to move. You struggled in the functioning Biografts grip.

You watched as Subspace, the man who claimed to love you, ripped away the life of the only thing you could call a friend.

His hands viciously ripped the circuits out of the defective Biograft, your friend. The person who was going to get you out of this terrible situation. The situation that was probably going to get a lot worse from here.

After letting out his rage on the poor Biograft, Subspace stayed still for a few, long moments. He then started to slowly get up from his seated position on top of the deceased Biograft. Once standing, he slowly looked over to where you were being held. His gas mask was slightly off of his face, to where you could see his deranged, half rotted smile. Unfortunately, he wasn't smiling with joy or excitement. He was smiling with pure rage. He was pissed, the most mad he's ever been with you. He started walking towards you with a face pace, speeding up with each step, until face to face with you. He stared at you, with those unhinged, pink eyes. Subspace then spoke.

“Oh.. my! It looks like you might be regretting your decision!!” he cupped your chin and tilted it to face him, forced to directly look him in the eyes.

You tried to struggle but the Biograft had too strong of a hold on you, Subspace was just watching with an amused expression.

“Sweetie… you know this Biograft is stronger than that pathetic one!” He looked over and angrily pointed at the diseased Biograft, the faulty one. The one who thought they could take you away from HIM. What an idiot! He really needs to work on the code, to make sure this never happens again.

Subspace looks back at you, frowning. He puts his gas mask back on, straightens it, and sighed.

“My love..” He started, but you interrupted him with a yell.

“WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!? WHY DO YOU WANT TO RUIN MY LIFE?! I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!” You shouted, in complete rage, in complete agony. Tears started forming in your eyes, and soon fell down your face in a constant stream.

He looked at you, his eyes seemed enraged for a moment, then seemed calm. He put his hand over your mouth, stopping you from yelling any more.

“Y/N… you know I'm just doing this for your safety, correct?” He keeps saying that, always trying to convince you he's trying to help you, keep you safe. He then wiped some of the tears away from your cheeks, and ran his hand through your hair.

You couldn't do anything, struggling wouldn't help, so you just gave up. Subspace noticed this, how your body went limp in Biografts grip.

“Biograft, let her go. She's calm enough now!” he snapped at the bot. The Biograft released its hold on you, and you fell down into Subspace’s arms. He looked down at you, it seemed as if he was smiling. He sat down with you in his arms, taking you into a full hug.

He hummed a small tune, trying to calm you down further. Running his hands through your hair, he then spoke.

“Let's go back home, okay?” He paused, trying to figure out what to say next. “I know today has been rough for you, but you can't leave me. All I do.. it's for your own safety!! I know that faulty Biograft was important to you, but it would hurt you. It WAS hurting you!”

“But it-” You tried to speak, but he interrupted you with a “shh”.

“Darling, just relax now, okay? This might hurt a teeny tiny bit, but you'll wake up feeling all better!”

Before you could protest, he stabbed a needle into your arm, and within a few seconds, your vision went black.

As he stared at you in his arms, his glare came back. He looked back at the defective Biograft, wishing it could just come back to life, so he could kill it all over again. And again. And again.

He looked back at you, still glaring. How stupid of you, to think you could leave him, with a faulty Biograft helping you! No, never. He'll never let this happen again.

NEVER.

[cyllres]

Promise | KNY x Reader

Chapter 00

TW: implied sexual assault, reader is a fucking child (9-11? I forgor lmao), arrange marriages

You lived a pretty insignificant life.

You were born, unfortunately, a woman, whose only task was to be owned by men, to bear heirs for the next generation and to make her father wealthier.

Of course, you'd never subject yourself to that fate, especially since you already saw the effects of it on your equally deranged mother.

Not that you blame her, honestly—who wouldn't go insane when the very first wife of the wealthy man of the Toshiro clan dares to bore a daughter as his first and oldest child? As his successor? Such a shame!

A woman has no place to lead clans; their only purpose is to serve their husbands—the head, their sons—the heirs, and teach their daughters the way to a married life. After several attempts, which unfortunately only led to multiple miscarriages due to the stress and pressure, your father eventually gave up and decided to take in multiple concubines with the promise to make them wealthy if they bore him a male heir.

Those concubines achieved something your mother couldn't: to give your father a son. That's why, despite still being the wife, your mother was constantly degraded by the concubines. Your mother couldn't do anything else but to endure, after all—she had already lost the affection of her husband.

Her only hope was you. Despite spending her whole life loathing your existence, she knows she might have her husband’s affection back if you manage to marry into another worthy family. Eager to please your mother, you did everything to woo your much- much older finacé and who wouldn't be eagered when a beautiful child from a wealthy clan is practically submitting to him.

Your only goal was to marry, that was until your fiancé decided to force himself onto you.

It was short, traumatic, and if a servant from your clan hadn't passed by it would've escalated further. You were only ten for fuck's sake. The promise was till you have your first menstruation, you're owned by your father and it wasn't something your finacé wanted to be caught offending.

You tried telling your mother how scary that experience was but her reaction was not concern but fear. Not because she was scared that her young daughter was almost sexually assaulted but fear that maybe the promise of marriage would be offed.

Scared for your life you decided to run away. It was a gamble. It's either you end up dead or found in one of those prostitution houses but it was a decision you had to make because you can't let your fiance near you. It took your father several weeks to find you and the state you were in wasn't to his satisfaction. That's why he decided to offer you to another clan.

The Ubuyashiki, a wealthy clan with a very private life. According to your father, despite having a privilege to know this wealthy clan, he still did not like the fact that it's a very sickly bloodline. The current leader— just like every leader is very ill and is being taken care of by his wife. Your father thinks, by offering his good for nothing daughter as a concubine to help the wife, he's doing something noble.

At first the head refused—was it because you were already dirty? Unpure? That was what your mother told you. But after a few days of being convinced by your own father and his own wife, the leader eventually gave in and accepted you into his clan. You weren't entirely sure what your position was, but all you knew was that you were no longer under your father's ownership but this man’s.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki was a rather strange man, he had light skin and black shoulder-length hair. You were taught by your mother not to look him or his wife in the eye, fearing that you might offend them. You were very well aware that this man was dying because of a curse you couldn't quite grasp. You were treated coldly by him for the first few days of your marriage, and you didn't mind that, especially since you were occupied with helping his wife take care of their 1-year-old children.

Amane possessed the same quiet, strict, and serious disposition as her husband, but she was much—much more softer to you. She was like a mother you never had sometimes, she even helped you bathe even though your position was lesser than hers.

Amane, with her gentle guidance, became your anchor. She showed you the ropes of managing the household and the delicate art of tending to Kagaya's needs. Despite the cold treatment from Kagaya, you noticed fleeting moments of curiosity in his eyes, as if he was trying to understand the enigma that you were. You reciprocated by maintaining your distance, respecting his space and waiting for the right moment to bridge the gap.

One particularly chilly night, as you sat by the engawa with the children, Kagaya and Amane joined you. The children, excited to have their father and mother's attention, clambered onto their laps, giggling and chattering away. The warmth of their small bodies contrasted with the cool night air, creating a cozy, familial atmosphere.

Kagaya looked at you over their heads, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “For caring for my family.” You nodded, a bit giddy from the praise, feeling a sense of belonging you had never experienced before.

"Y/n," Kagaya continued, his tone shifting to one of solemnity, "you've been with us for some time now, and I must commend you for your dedication and care. However, I must speak with you about a matter of great importance."

You nodded, listening intently, feeling the weight of his words settle over you.

"Being involved with the Ubuyashiki clan is dangerous. We are constantly under threat from demons, and the curse that plagues our family is relentless. I do not wish to subject you to a life of perpetual fear and danger unless it is your choice to stay. You have a right to decide your own fate." His words struck a chord deep within you. No one had ever given you a choice before. Your entire life had been dictated by the whims of others, and now, here was a man offering you agency over your own destiny. “The marriage ceremony wasn't serious but a front to take you from your father's grasp.”

Bewildered, you asked, “Why did you agree to take me from my clan, Ubuyashiki-sama?”

“At first I refused. I couldn't possibly bring a child into this family without their consent, without them fully grasping the consequences of being part of this clan. But Amane convinced me, and even I, could see so much potential in you, Y/n.”

Touched by his sincerity and the kindness you had experienced from Amane, you found yourself speaking from the heart. "I want to stay. Not as a wife, but as someone who can protect this family. I want to become a swordsman and serve Kagaya-sama and Amane-san."

Kagaya's eyes widened slightly, but then a small, approving smile appeared on his lips. "If that is truly what you wish, then I will support you. But from now on, you should train on your own." You glanced at Amane, who gave you a soft smile, then you glanced at their children: Hinaki, Nichika, Kiriya, Kanata, and Kuina, all watching you with wide, curious eyes.

“I think, no I know, I want to serve this family, and I'll work hard for that,” you said, determination clear in your voice.

Kagaya nodded, his expression one of approval and respect. "Very well, Y/n. Your dedication will not go unnoticed. From this moment on, you are a protector of the Ubuyashiki family. Train hard.”.

-

Tears continue to stream down your face as you look up, or down? In fact, you don't know. Ever since you saw your family’s mansion explode in front of you, you lost your senses. All you know is that you heard a biwa strike and you are falling into infinite rooms. Not having a chance to recover, some demons managed to impale you, leaving a gaping hole in your stomach, resulting in you just laying on the floor, or the roof, or the wall—you have no idea. You were dying.

You did not even have the chance to prove to them that you were strong enough. You did not have a chance to be a slayer. Despite failing the final selection two times (it was even a miracle you were still alive), you were convinced by Kagaya to lead the Kakushi instead.

The pain in your stomach is overwhelming, but the confusion and betrayal hurt even more. Your mind races, trying to piece together the fragments of what led to this moment. You recall Kagaya’s serene yet firm voice when he spoke to you, urging you to focus on supporting the Hashira, to ensure that the Kakushi were well-trained and prepared.

But now, lying here, bleeding out, reality crashes down on you. You remember the countless hours spent with the Kakushi, training them, guiding them. You remember the memories you made with the Ubuyashiki clan. The trinkets you brought for the children who you started treating as your younger siblings.

You think of Amane, her gentle hands guiding you, her soft voice reassuring you during those times of self-doubt. Was she part of this too? Did she intentionally not tell you what the plan was because you were not part of the family? The questions swirl in your mind, each one a dagger of betrayal.

Why? Why are you dying right now without having any idea that their plan was to have their whole mansion explode? Was that the reason why Kagaya asked you to focus on Hashira's training? To busy yourself with making sure that your fellow Kakushi were knowledgeable enough?

As your vision blurs and your strength fades, you think back to the moments of warmth and acceptance you found in the Ubuyashiki household. The children's laughter, Amane’s kindness, and even Kagaya’s smiles.

In your final moments, you whisper a prayer, to have another chance to prove yourself strong enough. Strong enough to bravely be part of the front lines. To be strong enough to be part of the plans.

As darkness envelops you, a single tear slips down your cheek, a silent testament to the dreams left unfulfilled, the questions left unanswered, and the love that was never truly yours.

-

buy me a coffee♡: ko-fi.com/cyllres

[murder-cookie-dust393]

Hi i have a request for the apocalypse au what if MC realized that they were "Infecting" and making people obsessed over them and decided to "Quarantine" themself beliving that would solve the solve the illness so they didn't tell anyone and absolutely no one knows where they are and somehow can't track them down. What would happen?

I had an ask similar to this- but it was literally a shitpost lmao

Tw: brainwashing, isolation, mention of murder, gaslighting

So like you said, the diseased can’t track them down.

Well those with the least of symptoms will gradually fade away back to their original selves. But the ones with a more direct contact with MC + a more severe case will go down 3 paths.

Path 1:

They will all form a group together to find MC, since MC is quarantined and probably won’t be moving places much. In fact, they try to gaslight each other into thinking MC was caught by a terrible villain and is held captive.

Path 2:

Absolutely panicked and some even crying. Maybe even angry. They go nuts, into a deranged state of madness. This is the most violent and dangerous path, because they’ll start destroying ANYTHING to draw out MC. Depending on the cookie a severely diseased encounters, they could either try to make them join the madness or murder them.

Path 3:

The only way the severely diseased can be stopped is definitely dark. Either an attempted brainwash with another thing to obsess over…But it’s less likely to work. The only option might be to just isolate them completely. The bond is so strong in their minds it really is the only way. Unless…

They make a cure. But I can’t think of what a cure would be right now, other than those dark methods.

——

Hope this wasn’t too dark for people to read Aha-

(Probably not…?)

- Celina

[yourchemicallyimbalancedromance]

Something (Un)Familiar

Ship: none? Unless you count this as platonic LAMP lmao, also possible prinxiety?

CW/TW: heavy dissociation themes (like literally the main theme of this entire story revolves around dissociation.), also swearing

Summary: Roman wakes up in an empty parking lot in the middle of the night and panics, calling Virgil for help.

———————————————————————

The fluorescent streetlights above Roman were blinding; cutting, white circles. They pierced through his windshield and flooded into the car, lighting up the leather seats.

Roman had his head pressed against the headrest, barely conscious. Slowly blinking his eyes open, he immediately covered them with his arm, sucking in a breath at the light harshly beaming down on him. As the pressure in his eyes decreased and finally became adjusted to the light, he looked around, squinting, trying to look for cues of where he was.

The parking lot was empty, the only thing accompanying it being locked stores, rattling leaves on the pavement, and him.

Waves of fear racked his body, he saw his phone in the open glovebox and grabbed it, noticing that it was powered all the way off. He didn’t do that, did he?

His breath hitched further, he had no clue where he was, he was lost and he had absolutely no way of knowing how he had even gotten there in the first place.

He held down the volume and power button on his phone watching as it lit up and presented a passcode screen. He typed it in as fast as could, and with his entrance being accepted came hundreds of missed calls and messages. He scrolled through them.

Virgil: where the hell are you????? Patton is worried sick, literally. Text back soon, please.

Logan: Roman I think it’d be best if you answered your phone. No one is going to be upset at you, we are just concerned for your safety.

*13 missed calls from: Virgil* his lucky number, shit, he really fucked up.

Those were only a few of the multiple notifications from Virgil.

Patton hadn’t bothered texting, which made him feel nauseous.

With shaking hands, he quickly clicked on Virgil’s contact and began typing.

He deleted the message and began retyping again, and again, and again. This cycle repeated for a few minutes before he finally sent the message.

‘I’m fine. I don’t know where I am but I’m fine.’

The message was read immediately, a gray text box following hurriedly after it.

‘Holy hell you’re okay’

‘What the fuck Roman, you can’t just up and leave without explanation’

‘What do you mean you don’t know where you are.’

Roman shook his head, nerves still all over the place, the queasy feeling in his gut never left, only got increasingly worse.

He pressed the call button under Virgil’s contact and prayed to god he would answer. He picked up on the first ring.

“Virgil? Virg I don’t know— I don’t know where I am, I’m in my car but—“ he looked around, “I can’t see anything, it’s dark, I can’t read any of the signs. I- I don’t know how I got here”

He heard voices and then a muffled “Roman, Roman listen to me, we’re tracking your phone right now, it’s okay. Stay in your car, are the doors locked?”

Roman looked beside him, down at the little buttons on the car door, the lock button was pushed down, the lights streaming on it. “Mhm” he said, hushed.

“Okay, good. Do not get out of the car, do you understand? We just pinged your location. Roman—why are you in a bare parking lot?”

To this, Roman broke out into tears “I don’t know, I just— I woke up here and— Virgil, do you think I’m crazy?”

“You just—“ Virgil started, “The possibility of you being mentally deranged is extremely low, Roman. You are fine, this may be a case of amnesia due to dissociation” Logan butted in.

“Disso— what?” Roman choked out

“Dissociation. There are many types. For example, there’s Dissociative Identity disorder which has different subtypes such as OSDD which stands for Other Specified Dissociative Disorder and there’s DPDR which stands for Deperson-“

“Logan.” Virgil says sharply.

“Sorry. Right. Roman, what you are struggling with is dissociative amnesia, not being able to recall information about oneself, usually due to longterm stress and/or trauma. In this instance, you cannot remember how you found yourself where you are, and that’s okay. You are okay.” Logan explains all of this calmly, as if it is just another day, as if explaining why Roman is stranded is as normal as breathing to him.

Romans cries have died down to sniffles, and his eyes are darting around for any possible threats in the sea of darkness he finds himself in; the streetlights are slowly turning off one by one.

“Okay—okay just— when are you coming to get me?” Roman asks timidly, almost as if he’s not in the silence of his own car, no one around to hear him.

“You’re about 15 minutes away,” Logan says, “we’ll text you when we’re close so you can turn your headlights on” there’s a silence between them before he adds, “to make it easier to find you.”

Roman nods even though Logan can’t see him, he realizes this and adds a soft “okay”

———————————————————————

It felt like hours before Roman got the message Logan was talking about.

Logan: ‘We are a minute away, please turn your headlights on.’

Roman fumbled for his keys and put them in the ignition, turning them and jumping at the sound of the engine running.

He turned on his headlights quickly as he heard a car pull up beside him and park, the gravel on the lot kicking up and landing a few feet away in all directions.

Logan was driving the car while Virgil was holding Patton in the backseat, who was still visibly shaken.

Logan got out of the car, putting little pressure on the door to close it; Virgil and Patton followed behind.

Roman opened his door immediately and clung to Logan. He didn’t react immediately, just froze for a second before patting him on the back. “It’s alright, Roman. you’re okay.” He whispered soothingly.

Anyone else would’ve heard nothing but a monotone voice speaking into the cold air, but he heard it; the delicateness, the careful wording.

Roman let go and was immediately pulled into the embrace of Patton who was almost crying. It was a silent and drawn out hug, neither side saying anything; almost as if everything they needed to say had disappeared once they saw each other; Patton let go.

“If you ever scare me like that again I’m going to murder you I swear to god.” Virgil grumbled, only half joking.

Roman looked uncomfortable and fidgety at the mention of death considering anything could have happened to him while unconscious, he didn’t say anything about it, just said “sorry..”

Logan cleared his throat, “if I may interject for a second,” he looked around to make sure everyone was listening, “Roman I am extraordinarily content with the finding that you are alive and well but it is approximately 37 degrees outside. We need to get you home.”

Roman nodded in agreement.

“Alright, Let’s go. Virgil and Patton, you ride with Roman and make sure he’s well; I’ll take my car back and follow you.”

Everyone scattered to their cars and the sound of doors slamming shut filled the air. Roman was now in the passenger seat instead of the front seat, Virgil was in the front; He slowly backed out of the parking lot and headed towards their home.

Out of impulse, Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand. It was cold, but he didn’t mind it, he liked the psychical contact, it reminded him of the fact that he was alive and safe.

Virgil smiled, trying to hide it by looking in the rear view mirror, pretending to check for anything behind them. It was a dumb idea, really, it was 12:30 AM and no one would be out that late where they lived; he liked how hard he tried though.

Patton didn’t say anything the whole way home, only gave Roman the occasional glance to make sure he was okay.

He was fine with it, the silence, the lack of words. He didn’t need it, only needed their presence, only needed to hold and be held by the person he loved the most, Virgil, even if it was just hand-holding; he was fine with that.

And he didn’t know it, but Virgil was too.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Any stalking historical romance you would recommend?

A Rose at Midnight by Anne Stuart. He doesn't stalk her at first, but he DOES after she poisons him with the intent to murder him (justified) and it doesn't really let up from there. Very dark, check your TWs.

Duke of Sin by Elizabeth Hoyt. Obviously. Valentine lives in his walls spying on Bridget for like. Months. Duke of Pleasure has some heroine-on-hero stalking with Alf acting as like a vigilante and watching the Duke of Kyle. Duke of Desire has some stalking as well. All of these are on the darker side, so check your TWs.

I just finished (and loved) The Gentleman Who Loved Me by Grace Callaway. The hero is 14 years older than the heroine and knew her when she was a kid--she was very much a little sister to him, she doesn't remember him because again, she was very young. Years later, when she's an adult, he comes across her again and begins keeping a look out for her, paying off people spreading gossip about her, threatening people who want to do her wrong, following her.... NORMAL BIG BRO STUFF.

Lady Charlotte's and The Seductive Spymaster by Grace Callaway. Charlie thinks her husband's long dead, but he's very much alive and has recently started following her around and fucking up her attempts to move on (after like OVER A DECADE). Very funny, and weeeeeirdly hot.

Beyond Scandal and Desire by Lorraine Heath. It's LIGHT here, but I do think that Mick Trewlove following Aslyn around as part of his Revenge Plot (and also staring out his window broodingly while rubbing a strand of pearls she lost in a bet at his club, which he immediately took from the winner) comes off as pretty stalkerish.

Rules for a Proper Governess by Jennifer Ashley. More heroine on hero stalking! The heroine is from the gutter and becomes obsessed with the stern lawyer hero, following him around all over town.

Melissa and The Vicar by S.M. LaViolette. Magnus hunts Melissa down like a DOG when she leaves him. And it takes him weeks and he doesn't sleep well during that time so he looks like SHIT and is completely deranged. I. Love. It.

In Which Matilda Halifax Learns the Value of Restraint by Alexandra Vasti. Some light heroine on hero stalking from afar. The heroine draws the hero in some of her personal porn, which is, as we know, one of my favorite things.

Tempt Me at Twilight by Lisa Kleypas. Lmao Harry most definitely stalks Poppy everywhere and basically ruins her life to force her to marry him. Kinda king shit tbh.

Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale. GLORIOUS STALKERY. Allegreto does some mastermind.mp3 shit to get Elena in his clutches, only to realize.... she's kind of A LOT.

The Duke Who Knew Too Much by Grace Callaway. Again, some heroine on hero stalking, I think. Emma is stalking her hero to prove that he committed a murder because she saw him doing thing against his mistress's will before she died! And he has to explain what CNC is to her. Bless.

I would also say that Pippa and The Prince of Secrets has a good deal of stalkery vibes? Cull is Keeping His Eye on Pippa because she's getting into trouble and he's now like, the leader of a bunch of CHILD THIEVES LMAO. A lot of Grace's books have stalkery elements, tbh, and fortunately I do love that.

The Lady Hellion by Joanna Shupe has a heroine who dresses as a man to go fight for justice at night, and a hero who's all "NOW WAIT ONE GODDAMN MINUTE" and starts stalking her as a result. It's all fun and games until you're following some broad around through brothels at night, boys.

Never Seduce a Duke by Vivienne Lorret has a hero who becomes obsessed with the heroine and follows her on a wild goose chase across Europe because he's convinced that she stole his special secret demented Arthurian cookbook. She.... just thinks he likes her, lmao.