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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months ago

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𝒊 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆…

part 4 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - you finally made your decision.

warning - angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, attempt at gaslighting, betrayal, disappointment.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 5

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You had woken up the next day, and you just laid there. You couldn’t move, your entire being ached, you were exhausted both physically, emotionally, and mentally. You had never felt this exhausted in your whole life, you never felt this broken and stuck.

You knew you had to choose. The weight on your shoulders was bringing you down and you didn’t know if you could go on any longer without making a choice, a decision that could change your life forever.

You could either pretend and live on in an obvious one–sided marriage while your husband continues to sleep around with your EX–best friend and any other woman he has on the side OR you could confront him and leave, making him sign the divorce papers that you would have to get a lawyer for the moment you left. But it would mean you would have to start all over again.

You flip onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, the memories from last night flash through your mind again, your husband and ex–best friend fucking each other in the bathroom, them fucking while you “slept”. You don’t think you could do this again nor could you pretend that everything was okay. You could hear them from the lounge room, their voices the only thing filling the quiet home. They sounded happy as they bantered and teased each other.

You slowly slide to the edge of the bed and sit up. Your eyes connect in the mirror, and you finally look at yourself. You didn’t recognise the woman staring back at you, she seemed so lifeless, so broken. Where had the old you gone? Was she still there? You could see the sadness and rage swirling beneath your eyes, followed by bags and dried tears underneath.

You were so sick of crying. When did you become so weak over a man?

Everything seemed to click when those beautiful blue eyes appeared in your mind. You could finally feel yourself think more clearly, you finally knew your decision. You weren’t making your decision because of those eyes, but they seemed to help clarify what you wanted. You could feel your soul tugging as the unknown man appeared in your thoughts.

With one last look at yourself and a deep breath later, you turned. Ready.

And finally, you chose yourself.

“You got this.” You say and you will forever say it even with tears in your eyes. You move swiftly around the room, grabbing a suitcase from your cupboard and laying it down on the bed. You begin to pack, folding your clothes neatly before you place them in. You move onto shoes, accessories, makeup, perfume, and anything else that was yours. Once you zipped up your suitcase, you looked around the room. Your eyes caught in the mirror, and you finally felt freer.

You grabbed your suitcase and spare outfit and left the bedroom. Resting the suitcase against the front door, you head into the spare bathroom as your other had been tainted with your husband’s infidelity and your ex–best friend’s betrayal.

You had taken your time in the shower, washing the pain and sadness from your body. You even took your time making yourself look good, wanting him to regret his choices the moment you left him. With a final look in the mirror, you head out of the bathroom and into the lounge room. Your soon–to–be ex–husband and ex–best friend sitting too close for comfort, the sadness and anger that had been bubbling over had slowly disappeared as a blanket of numbness covered you. You could finally focus without your emotions getting in the way.

“Somehow, I expected that this would happen eventually.” Your voice fills the room and the two on the couch jump apart, eyes wide as their heads whip towards you. You stare blankly, your heart still hurts but it was good. It was reminding you of what they had done. It was true, the old you had expected this would happen, but you were so caught up in thinking he loved you that you were blinded by him and his lies. “Given your history, I should have known better.”

Johnny chuckles nervously, looking between you and Sarah. He wasn’t expecting this, but maybe he could lie and get out of it. Make you think it’s all in your head. “Babe, what are you talking about? I haven’t done anything!” He had to be careful, you hadn’t said what it was and if he wanted to lie, he couldn’t give anything away by saying the wrong thing.

“So, you didn’t cheat on me?” You decided to play dumb. You remembered who you were, and the game changed. You wouldn’t let anyone make you forget again.

Johnny scoffs. “Of course not, Babe! I love you! We’re just friends.” It was at that moment that he knew he fucked up.

“Just friends, huh?” You laugh. “Well, just friends don’t practically sit on top of each other especially when one is married, just friends don’t flirt with one another in a not so platonic way. Just friends don’t fuck each other in the bathroom while one friends wife is showering, just friends don’t slip out of bed when they think their wife is sleeping to fuck their friend in the other room. I’ve never had any friends like that, Johnny.” Your glare sharpens as you spit his name out with venom.

His mouth opens and closes, and Sarah’s eyes widen. “How did you find out?”

“You fucked her in OUR house! How do you think I found out?!” Your anger began to push against the numbness, wanting to be unleashed “I also remember everything. Every time you’d leave, look at another woman only for you and her to disappear a few minutes later, how you’d always be on your phone, OUR wedding.” You watched as they paled at the last part.

“Babe! It was never supposed to get this far! Trust me, I’m so sorry!” He gets up and moves closer to you. Hurt flashes through his eyes when you back away from him, the thought of him touching you again disgusted you.

“Get away from me! You’re not sorry, you’re just sorry you got caught! So don’t lie to me! I can’t believe I trusted you.” You could feel it, the blanket of numbness was slowly slipping away, and the tears returned, but they didn’t fall like before.

“Did you ever really love me...?” Your gaze shifted, your ex–best friend didn’t even look guilty, it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders. What did you ever do to her? “Do you love her?”

“Yes, I love you! I don’t love her, please believe me. It was just sex! She means nothing to me.” You could see the lie in his eyes, you wondered when he fell in love with her. You wondered if any of it was real. You wondered if his soul tugged the same way yours did when you bumped into that man, but if it did. Why didn’t he just leave? Why did they have to hurt you so bad? Why did they have to break you?

You shake your head. “I don’t believe you.” You swallow down the lump in your throat. “You made a promise. The same day you made that promise you had your dick in someone else. Tell me, was any part of this at least real?” You stared into his eyes, watching him think. You sighed, “Do you have any regrets doing this to me?” A part of you needed to know.

Instead of answering your question, he responded with. “Do we really have to end it all?” Your eyes ached from the weight of unshed tears. He was your home, did he not understand? But, you weren’t his and it was time for you to go.

With a heavy sigh, you ignore his question like he did yours and pull off your wedding and engagement ring. “I loved you in this lifetime… I won’t make that mistake in the next.” With shaky hands you push the rings into his chest, letting go of them as his hand comes up. Hoping to catch yours, but instead he only catches the rings. “Goodbye, Johnny. I guess our story ends here…” You walk out of the room and towards the door, grabbing your things. This was it…

Maybe she was his happy ending. Hopefully you could find yours.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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villiun · 1 month ago

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WARNING FOR GUN!

TxM by @blackkatdraws @blackkatdraws2

Woahhh, Harry and Gavriel's first meeting, wild guys.

Got some good ol' writing below to provide context :D

When Jack ceased to get his daily newspapers from Harry's stand, Harry began to grow suspicious. Jack would come by every single morning before work and grab a paper, maybe have a chat if there was time. But Jack hadn't visited in two weeks.

Now, Harry used to have a newspaper delivery service that you can apply for, many liked it but not enough, and nor did Harry (he got sick of riding his bike 😭). However, he still had access to the addresses of those who applied, including Jack's. Harry debated with his conscience for a moment, but decided to squash the cricket and go through with his plan. He'd go over and visit Jack directly.

Harry gathered Jack would probably be fine with him popping over, they had become decent friends after a few years of chatting in the mornings, sharing stories, etc, etc. In fact, Harry felt like a wise uncle whenever he'd to talk to Jack, it'd lighten up his day seeing the guy yap about who knows what.

Harry eventually arrives at Jack's apartment.

He knocks on the door...a Grim...no-

A Guktav member?

Stood menacingly in front of him.

Harry felt his insides twitch, itching to crawl out of his skin as his thoughts began to cloud. What had this man done to Jack? Harry's left pupil began to splutter into sharp edged sections as he balled his gloved fist.

"Where's Jack?" Harry asked, his tone the furthest from a jolly toon.

The tall man shifts his head, as if eyeing off someone. He kept his head like that for a moment, and then soon enough a pattering of quick footsteps joined the man in the door.

"Ah, gee, sorry Harry, if I knew you were visiting I woulda spruced up the place."

There Jack is, alive and well. Granted in his pajamas at one in the afternoon but he had the colour in his face, and that's all that mattered to Harry. His face softened and he relaxed his posture.

"Nah, nah, s'all good. Is it okay if I-"

"Yes, yes, of course, make yourself welcome. Oh and uh Harry, Gavriel, Gavriel, Harry. "

Jack scratched the back of his head as he walked to his kitchen, it was as if he were picking off countless possibilities off his brain. Harry couldn't blame Jack, a journalist and a Guktav in the same room? Yeesh. But a breaking news story was the last thing Harry could think of seeking. Harry watched Glasses Guy through furrowed brows until he caught the right moment to tug Gavriel's jacket.

"Could I have a word?"

Gavriel glanced over to Jack, Jack sucked his teeth and shrugged as if to inadvertently say "it won't be bad."

"Alright."

Harry nodded, he followed Gavriel to the balcony. Harry shut the curtains before walking onto the concrete, ensuring a screen where Jack couldn't see him or Gavriel. With a hefty sigh, Harry flicked out a gun. Almost immediantly, Gavriel kicked the gun out of his hand in one quick movement. With that reaction time, definitely a Guktav.

"Well, there's that theory proven." Harry's nose crinkled.

Then in a blink of an eye, Harry's body is drastically different. Taller, broader, scruffier and a hell of a lot less toon. Gavriel ever so slightly stepped back. Harry pulled out another gun from seemingly nowhere, but with a bit less aggression this time.

"Look, I just needa get somethin' straight with ya, alright?"

Gavriel adjusted his stance to how it was before, however, there was just a slight slouch that Harry noticed.

"Why are you here?"

"Jack's been aiding me, didn't exactly choose to be here."

"Get slashed to the side, huh?"

"Something like that, yes."

Harry paused and grit his teeth. He gathered Gavriel was rather concise with his words, so he figured he'd just get to the point. He stepped closer and rested the gun against Gavriel's neck.

"You and I both know what business Grims get themselves in. You understand you're putting Jack in danger by being here?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm gonna ask one thing of you."

Harry's hand pryed the collar of his shirt slightly, revealing a gruesome section of scarred skin on his neck. There's a noticeable indent in the middle.

"You're preparin Jack for what you're getting him into, going into a Grim's world unprepared is a death wish, I would know."

Gavriel raised his head in agreement.

"I wanna see firearm trainin, explosives trainin, all of that jazz."

Gavriel nodded impatiently. Harry pursed his lips, annoyingly. It was very clear neither one of them liked eachothers presence.

"Y'know, you're damn lucky it was Jack who found ya, anyone else woulda left ya for dead. What I'm sayin is...don't fuck up."

Gavriel huffed. (Ahahah)

"Got it."

"Good man."

Harry patted Gavriel's shoulder twice with the gun.

The two walk back inside, although Harry still felt skeptical about trusting a Gustav, seeing Jack's face light up as Gavriel walked back into the room made him feel a little less worried.

#txm oc #txm fanart #txm #my art #art #oc art #idk man #writing #txm fanwriting?#idk the words for it man its 2am 😭#toon x mobster oc #toon x mobster #i feel like Miss Emma would read Harrys paper and be surprised when he sees bro waltzing into the apartment for the first time 😭#i reckon theyd get along tho #maybe idk #hed probably scope out the cookies and ask if he could snag one while hes on his newspaper selling duties #gavriel huffman #jack desmond

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the-indigo-symphony · 8 days ago

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Btw the fakeclaimers and exclusionists won't tell you this but it can be a very important step of healing to just. Not care all that much when you get new system members. You don't have to be all gung-ho about it – I myself get a little bothered because I stress about getting newcomers profiles before they switch out to who knows where – but also don't, like, beat yourself up for it. Yeah, your system got someone new. Maybe a lot of someones. It's fine. This isn't a moral failure. You haven't started any apocalypses. And on that note, you don't have to avoid that cool thing you think you might be into because you're worried about getting introjects from it, or whatever. Shit happens, systems grow, and we all march on anyway.

I suspect this sort of attitude comes from the idea (whether subconscious or not) that having sysmates is bad, and thus having more sysmates = even worse. This is not true. You are not a bad person or system just because you got some new members. You are not necessarily "unhealthy" or "sick" just for getting someone new, or because you're a large system (and even if it did mean that, "unhealthy" does not mean "immoral" or "should hate themselves"). Sometimes there can be problems involved with gaining new sysmates! This is true! But what isn't true is the underlying sentiment that being "very" plural is bad, or that a system growing in member count is this horrible, awful thing. Throw out your internalized pluralphobia. I repeat: throw out your internalized pluralphobia. It's completely and totally fine to gain new system members, and it's completely and totally fine to be a large system. This attitude does nothing but reinforce the idea that being plural – or at the very least, having perfectly natural and normal plural experiences – are inherently wrong and must be avoided at all costs (and when they can't be, they must be complained about so everyone knows they're bad; that it's bad to be plural and have plural experiences).

Also, on a related note – these kinds of sentiments can very easily cause those new system members to feel like they're the problem. Please, if you're the type to get frustrated or annoyed when you get new members for whatever reason, let them know it's not their fault. Don't make them feel like a chore or a mistake or anything else negative. Don't leave those thoughts to fester. Don't cause a rift in your system just because you wanted to join in with the common system joke of hating to get new sysmates. Again, you don't have to suddenly stop being frustrated with the problems that increasing in member count may cause, but do not take that frustration out on your new members, and do not make them feel like a problem. Give them some room to figure themselves out, and show them support as they learn and grow into themselves. Have a talk with them, if you can. It's not their fault that their entrance into your system interrupted your tempo. You can find a new balance together.

(And, btw, that bit about causing others to feel like they're a problem also goes for the implications of your words towards large systems. It feels very estranging and uncomfortable to see so many folks complaining about getting new headmates and implying that it would be wrong of them to not do everything in their power to make sure they don't get any new introjects when we're a polyfragmented system who grows at the drop of a hat. I'm sure We're not the only large system who feels this way, either. Your jokes aren't made in a vacuum; other systems can see them.)

I am making an executive decision here to welcome each and every one of my new selves. I am annoyed to all hell and back with our amnesia and executive function problems keeping us from getting caught up on member profiles, but that's not the fault of anyone who moves in, and I'm not going to wallow in anguish over how our system operates and its tendency to throw new selves at us at the drop of a hat. I'm not going to beat myselves up when there's no good reason to. That's just doing my DID's work for it.

Gaining new system members isn't a crime. You can be neutral or even positive about it. Please don't make your new system members feel unwelcome, and please don't let internalized pluralphobia snowball into a pattern of self-hate. It's fine to be a system, it's fine to gain new system members, and it's fine to find these things not just "fine", but an enjoyable and positive part of life.

#evoli.txt #plurality #pluralgang #actuallyplural #plural system #pluralphobia #marina.txt

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roleplay-evil · 6 months ago

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Resident Evil 7 Biohazard Starters

"You know what they say—once family, always family."

"You're part of the family now."

"Welcome to the family, [name]."

"That's family business, [name], and not your concern, understand?"

"This is my home. Apparently, I belong here."

"So, why are we in hell this time?"

"They're relying on me. Everyone is relying on me. Everyone!"

"You don't exactly seem like you're playing with a full deck yourself."

"Goddamnit, how am I gonna replace this?"

"Ah, shit! I knew I shouldn't have worn my good shoes."

"You came to the wrong house, [name]."

"I told you to stay out of here."

"Alright, new deal. We-we find [name] and we go."

"You, my friend, you are one lucky son of a bitch."

"I'm sorry... but they're, uh, they're dead now."

"Yeah, it is your fault. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you die."

"You kill me, and I just come right on back!"

"I'm going to enjoy watching you die."

"Motherfucker! You were supposed to die!"

"Sure as shit beats the hell outta dying."

"Idiot—you can't kill me."

"Do me a favor and stay dead."

"Leave me to die!"

"Forget that you ever knew me."

"Come on—don't you die on us now. You have work to do."

"You don't understand or is it that you just don't care?"

"Don't worry, I'm still here."

"Now, we got several calls about some missing persons lately."

"[name]! Thank god I found you. It's me. It's [name]!"

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! It's time for supper."

"Glad I had my shots."

"You better now?"

"Well, come on. Take a chance. You never know."

"That is not groovy."

"What the fuck? That's special."

"You can't hide from me, [name]!"

"Don't you go anywhere!"

"Alright, you little cocksucker, let's get down to business!"

"I know you and [name] are plotting. I know you are scheming."

"Where'd you get yourself to, hm? Where are you?!"

"Thought you'd just slip out before dinner was done?"

"It won't be long before I find you and kill you."

"I'm gonna squash you like a bug."

"You think you can hurt me?"

"You're going to wish you'd never been born."

"I'm gonna take you for a ride!"

"This is going to be fun. Just you wait."

"You're gonna die in this hole and you're gonna like it!"

"Fuck it! I'm gonna kill every one of you."

"I will find them and I will make them suffer."

"You better start running, [name]!"

"They're dead! They're all dead!"

"I can't let [name] catch me again!"

"What's wrong? Step on it!"

"You're the first I've ever seen make it this far."

"Gotta say, I'm impressed. Not only are you still alive, you have all your fingers and toes."

"You're gonna have to do better than that, [name]."

"You're wasting your time."

"Here I come."

"You need to go. I won't be able to resist for much longer."

"You gotta give me your gun!"

"Oh! Good news! I'm going to be coming home soon! Yay!"

"Who the hell else was I gonna choose?"

"Are you having fun yet?"

"You got yourself a booboo?"

"I told you, don't you fuck with me."

"Not now. We need to get out of here first."

"You were right. I did lie to you."

"You gotta earn your way, [name]!"

"What is this place? What did they do to you?"

"There's another door here. I'm sure of it."

"You're a son of a bitch!"

"Now look what you've done, motherfucker!"

"Fuck you and the horse you rode in on."

"Kiss my ass."

"Dumb son of bitch wouldn't know good if it hit them!"

"Goddamnit! I bet it's that cop again..."

"I only work with professionals."

"I'm an old man, [name]. You can't take on an old man?"

"Hey! One of those is mine."

"Why are you putting me through this?"

"Well, don't just stand there—do something!"

"I know I can't expect anything from you. Not after what happened. After what I did."

"I am sick and tired over being sick and tired of your bullshit."

"I'm tired of waiting."

"It has taken me weeks to finish this, and it is finally ready. And it's all for you."

"What the fuck are you, [name]?"

"I got the gift running all through me! All through me!"

"I don't understand you at all. This is a gift."

"There are known unknowns here, and you are not paying fucking attention!"

"Do I have your attention, [name]? You're about to see something wonderful."

"We love you... Why can't you see that?!"

"Why does everyone hate me?"

"You see, [name], not everybody wants to turn back the clock."

"This joy? Why, you can't fake this."

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devildomditzy · 2 years ago

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You know how it goes.

The same old same old.

You attempt to get something done for once,

and he ruins it by attempting to insert himself as the constant center of your attention.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way, now would you?

Your attempt to study for your upcoming cursed speechcraft class was impressive, commendable even. But of course, you weren’t getting anything done, not if he had anything to say about it.

You’ve reread the same sentence at least twelve times now, trying to drown out the loud, cheesy love song blaring from outside your bedroom window. But of course, your efforts were futile.

You made eye contact with him, but how could you not! The poor boy stood out on the lawn under your bedroom window, practically on his tippy toes, holding a large, heavy boombox over his head. Sure, demonic strength was a thing, but that sure looks heavy!

Where’d he even get that?

Whatever.

No time to think about that. You were NOT going to let him distract you this time. Not after he had spent the whole day trying to convince you to ‘stop being such a damn nerd’.

But of course, your steadfast nature lined with the good intentions of not failing this course went through one ear and out the other.

You were going to ignore him? Fine.

Try to ignore Celine Dion on full blast.

You watch in annoyance as he turns the volume knob up to max, making the face of a man hellbent on distracting his human exchange student.

Now it was a game of patience, who would crack first? Him giving up this charade, or you finally caving into just what it is he wants?

Or Lucifer telling him to turn that thing off before he pops his head like a grape.

It’s anyone’s guess.

Don’t let him get to you.

Just turn to the next page.

Wait, what is he doing?

He’s set the boombox down, and he’s walking out of sight.

Maybe he’s giving up?

Of course not.

There’s a second boombox.

For Diavolo’s sake.

You pick up your D.D.D, opening your messages with him.

——————————————————————————

MC: Mammon.

Mammon: Pretty cool, huh? Found em on a sick deal too. Ya know I’d be happy to share one with ya, only if ya came down here though.

MC: I don’t want a boombox, I want to study.

MC: Where’d you get those anyway?

Mammon: Not important

MC: 🙃

Mammon: What IS important is that ya stop being’ such a rotten human and come down here to hang out with me.

MC: Mams, I already told you I’d hang out with you after I’m done studying! I can’t afford to fail this class, Lucifer will kill me! You’re welcome to come study with me as long as you’re actually studying.

Mammon: So you’re not coming down?

MC: No!

Mammon: Fine. Hope you like Beyoncé.

——————————————————————————

You groan in irritation and throw your D.D.D. onto your bed as his music somehow gets even louder.

You’re glad he forgets he can fly sometimes because if he was at your literal window you’d pop him like a grape yourself.

You put your head in your hands and look outside, just to see him lip syncing the first chorus of ‘Halo’ at you.

Its okay. Deep breath. Just block him out.

Eyes back on the page.

“The first step to recognizing when someone is attempting to use curse speechcraft on you is…”

Okay what the fuck.

What the hell is he doing.

Annnddd he’s taking his shirt off, okay.

Cool.

You make eye contact with him for a split second, and he makes that smirk you wish you could wipe off his face right now.

You rip your eyes away from your boyfriend’s impromptu strip tease as your D.D.D. buzzes from it’s spot on your bed, and you’re surprised to see the name flashing on the screen does not match the source of your frustrations.

——————————————————————————

Lucifer: MC.

MC: Yes?

Lucifer: Do you have any part in the absolute horror show that is taking place on the front lawn?

MC: Please make him stop.

Lucifer: l will return him to you in one piece.

——————————————————————————-

You look out the window just the time to see your panicked boyfriend attempting to run away with a stereo in each hand, his shirt and jacket thrown over his shoulder.

You’ll cut him down from the rafters eventually, but only after you’re sure he won’t be effecting your grades.

Annnd maybe after you’re done teasing him for a bit.

#kit’s playhouse #obey me #om #mammon #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me headcannons #obey me mc #mammon headcannons #mammon x mc #obey me nightbringer #omnb #omnb mammon #obey me nightbringer mammon #om mammon #om mc #obey me drabble #mammon drabble

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cricket-reader · 2 years ago

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Broken Promises

Summary: the asset had promised you that he would save you, that he’d come back for you if he ever managed to escape. He didn’t come back for you. Something that both of you needed to work through if you ever wanted to heal.

Warnings: language, Bucky’s negative thoughts and self-hatred, miscommunication, captivity, Hydra, fluff

Word Count: 1672

Prompt: "Say something." | Rescue | Broken Promise | Weak

A/N: Day 13 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

I’ll come back for you.

I’ll never leave you here alone.

I promise.

You should have known better than to listen to promises from a person that couldn’t even remember his own name. Any reprieve from this treacherous life was welcomed, though. So you dared to hope. You stupidly dared to dream that there was a life outside of those bleak, dreary walls.

You heard about the Asset’s escape. A new hope lit a flame in your chest. He was going to come back for you. He was going to save you from the treacherous claws of Hydra.

As the months went by, however, your flame began to flicker out. He wasn’t coming. He forgot about you. He didn’t care enough to save you, maybe. Whatever the reason, you were stuck there. No one was coming to save you.

You couldn’t really find it in yourself to blame him. In your mind, you weren’t worth saving. He probably didn’t want to come back anyway. You sure as hell wouldn’t want to come back if you got out. You’d like to at least think that you would have come back for the Asset were you in his place, though.

But this isn’t what would you do. This is what would he do. Because you were still trapped and the Asset was free. In what would he do, saving you wasn’t a part of his plan. Clearly.

Briefly, you wondered if he could remember his name now that he was out of the metaphorical frying pan. You hoped he was. You hoped he was recovering. Because he deserved it.

You were not expecting to be saved. So when a dark skinned man burst into your room and led you to safety, you were overwhelmed. Someone had actually saved you. They risked their life for you.

But it wasn’t who you wanted it to be.

It was stupid. You didn’t have time to be picky. Whoever saved you, saved you and that should be enough. However, you couldn’t help but feel gutted. You thought you gave up on the hope that the Winter Soldier would come back for you a long time ago. The empty feeling inside of you said otherwise.

When they began therapy, you realised how weak you were. You couldn’t eat large portions without expelling it afterwards. You could barely walk without assistance, too busy trembling from malnutrition to be useful. You hated every step of recovery. Maybe you hated it so much because you thought that it would be you and the Soldier going through the aftermath together. In the cells when you daydreamed of a life beyond the walls you were kept in, you had thought he’d be there to support you every step of the way. But you were alone.

Sam wanted to beat Bucky up. It wasn’t an odd feeling, but this urge was stronger than usual. He understood when Bucky told him that he couldn’t go back to the place he was held in captivity. He understood that.

He couldn’t bring himself to understand why the hell he was being so chicken-shit about going and seeing you.

It was clear that he wanted to. Pacing in the hallway outside of your room, standing in the doorway for hours upon end, sitting right outside your door and never leaving. Bucky was just too scared to actually make it past the door to your room. Sam had unsuccessfully tried to “accidentally” push him in the room when he would stand in front of it multiple times.

It was really starting to get on his nerves.

One day, Bucky was napping in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs outside your room as he often did. Sam, absolutely fed up with his friend being a love-sick fool, too chicken shit to do anything, decided to push him into the room. It didn’t work.

Needless to say, even with his incredible strength, Sam was no match for a super soldier.

One of the nurses noticed what Sam was trying to do and decided to help. They got him into a wheelchair and wheeled him into the room. Sam dragged the exhausted super soldier out of the wheelchair and into one of the seats near your bed.

Sam thanked the nurse as they wheeled the wheelchair away. The nurse just shrugged, saying that they were tired of it too.

Sam followed the nurse out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

When you woke up, you weren’t expecting to see anyone in your room. Much less the very man that had broken his promise and left you to pick up the shattered pieces.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But how could you when he had torn away every last shred of hope you held onto? How could you ever forgive him for lying, for breaking his promises?

He looked good. Healthy even. You were happy for him. You really were. But you couldn’t help that ugly feeling of envy that crawled its way up your throat. It wasn’t fair. Not by a long shot. You knew it, hell he probably knew it too.

You sat in silence for what felt like hours before the man beside you finally came to. He jumped up, on edge because he didn’t recognise his surroundings. His entire body froze, seeing that you were in front of him. You looked at him before looking back out the window.

Bucky mentally cursed. You had seen him. He couldn’t just walk away and pretend it never happened… or could he? No! No, he couldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair to you. “Hey,” he said, scuffing the bottom of his shoe against the pristine tile.

“Uh… I meant to come see you sooner… I really did.”

He wanted to hear your voice again. He missed you so much. All those achingly long nights where his nightmares formed the most horrendous images of you being tortured without him there to protect you. It drove him mad. He tried to find you on his own, but he failed. He had to ask for help and he would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you were safe; he despised asking for help, but he’d do anything for you.

“I’ve been here since you were admitted… I just… I couldn’t bring myself to… to come in and see you. Someone must’ve… they must’ve gotten me in here somehow…”

He was just saying nonsense at that point. Anything to fill the void. You hadn’t looked back at him. Your head still turned to face the window. He couldn’t blame you. Not really. He would hate him too if he were you. Hell, he does hate himself.

“I know I’m probably the last person you wanna see.” He had tears begging to be released in his eyes. He needed to hear you. He didn’t care if all you did was cuss him out or yell at him. Anything to hear your voice.

“Say something. Please…”

Your heart cracked, hearing his broken voice. Tears had already began to stream down your face. “You promised…”

His heart skipped a beat. He didn’t actually think you would say anything. He was convinced that you’d just give him the silent treatment. That, of course, would have been fine with him. He deserved it after all he had put you through.

“Why didn’t you come back for me?” You had to know. Although you wanted nothing to do with him and simultaneously wanted to wrap him in your arms and never let go, you just had to know one thing. The question you had wondered ever since that flame inside of you was snuffed out.

Bucky winced. In all honesty, he should have known that question was coming. It didn’t make it hurt any less, though. “I… it sounds so stupid, but I tried. I really did, doll. I spent months trying to remember where they kept you, hacking into all kinds of files—so much so that I probably would have been arrested if I didn’t cover my tracks. But I didn’t care because I needed to find you. You’ve gotta understand…”

He took a breath. “As soon as I remembered you, I did everything I could to find you. After years of searching I finally asked for help… that just goes to show how fucking desperate I was, god.” He ran his hands through his hair, starting to pace back and forth.

“I—I couldn’t bring myself to go get you. I had Sam do it with Torres because I was scared. I was a fucking coward! And you deserve so much more. I didn’t… I just didn’t feel worthy enough to save you.”

At this point, you turned to see his tear-streaked face. He continued pacing, not even noticing that you were finally looking at him.

“You had been waiting so long and I.. I failed you. I had taken too long to find you, and I was terrified that you’d hate me as much as I hate myself. But what really terrified me was the thought that you hadn’t made it. That I would get there and you’d be a bloody mess, cold and lifeless on the ground.

“My nightmares for the longest time had been filled with you dying because of me. I couldn’t bear to see it in real life.”

“Winter…” you croaked, heartbroken at his revelation. His head whipped over to your body, lying on the hospital bed and covered with yellowing bruises.

“It’s Bucky,” he sheepishly corrected.

A smile was brought to your face, and Bucky found himself thinking that he’d do anything to see that smile more often. “You remembered?”

He nodded his head, tears still dripping down his cheeks. “I did, I remember a lot now. While it’s not always a good thing, I thank every god above that I remembered you before it was too late.”

You felt heat rising to your face. “You’re still such a simp.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “but I’m your simp.”

Taglist: @harleycao

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hrodvitnon · 11 months ago

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So This Makes a [Preview For a] SIXTH SIGNALIS Fic, Do I Hear Seven?!

of course it would be fic number 6 where i give elster a third leg

---

Look up "insatiable" in a dictionary and you'll find a picture of Scout Officer Ariane Yeong and LSTR-512 engaged in such debauchery it'll make your toes curl.

Their first time had smashed to pieces a dam holding back all desires and thus unleashed a flood, sweeping them away in the currents where they ride the waves – and each other – to a wonderful world of sex. Like with kissing it starts out awkward and clumsy, but practice makes for more refined experiences each time; learning what they like and don't like, what makes their backs arch and legs quiver. They won't learn everything about lovemaking or even master it for a long time, but they're more than happy to just crash into each other when lust takes hold.

Elster hadn't thought it possible for Ariane to become even more beautiful, but sometimes she likes being proven wrong, especially when the love of her life practically dances around the ship with a song on her lips, glowing from a night of passion and her gorgeous red eyes having a faraway look as if she'd witnessed the gates to heaven. The Leng-born beauty may look angelic, but the thoughts brewing in her head and desires bubbling away in her body are burning like a written sin.

As willing as she is to turn Penrose-512 into a den of vice and claim Ariane on any and all flat surfaces available, Elster worries about her self-control. She tries to get work done and be responsible alongside her newfound duties as a lover, bless her heart she does, but she's concerned with how easy it is to ignore her work in favor of screwing with Ariane. Worries that favoring Ariane will neglect the ship, or that favoring the ship will neglect Ariane. Hell, right now – she's working on switching out some lights but all she's doing is looking at her hands and imagining her fingers wrapped in Ariane's warmth, exploring her inner depths, curling her digits in the way that makes her sing...

Elster has to ask herself, Is this normal? And her Self answers, which she can't imagine is normal for anyone. While not an expert on the subject, she's fairly certain that talking to yourself is symptomatic of insanity, and she's definitely insane for Ariane.

It's perfectly normal. But all I'm thinking about is sex. All I want to do is have sex. Welcome to puberty, kid. Be glad you don't have to deal with menstrual cramps.

Elster shudders at the idea, having helped Ariane deal with plenty of those already. Sometimes being a Replika has its perks.

If it makes you feel any better, I was the same way. It... does, actually. It makes sense. You're young and in love. Things will cool off after a while, but you won't get sick of it. Any tips for focusing on getting work done without distracting myself? Think of math. Never liked math. Fuckin' witchcraft.

Elster chuffs. But it's working; she has an easier time getting this chore done without letting her mind wander. At the same time, however...

I'm pretty sure you're a sign of my persona degradation. Is that what we're calling it now? What else would talking to what is clearly a personification of my Gestalt memories be called? Using a spirit board to contact your ancestors.

#signalis #preview #spicy~!#prepare for dick jokes galore because i'm 12 years old and this one is self indulgent as all hell #i apologize for nothing

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casspurrjoybell-33 · 1 year ago

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Wreckless - Let's Talk

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I have to start the noodles, the water is boiling... I reluctantly leave Finnegan to take off his slacks. Once they're in the water I get him a drink, in the sports bottle of course. He seems too old for a Sippy-Cup which is fine by me. I'm pretty sure he's about seven or eight in little space, the ages when he was sick. Him mentioning that he'd missed a bunch of experiences during that time period sort of solidified my thoughts on that.

I'll have to ask him about that tonight, if we get that far. I've spent the past hour making dinner and in between, I've been on my phone looking up anything I can find on Daddy Doms and Little Boys and refreshing my memory. I'm glad he wants to talk. I know that neither of us have all the answers but we can at least figure out what the questions are, make sure we're on the same page and try to come up with some sort of a plan.

"Can I go get Marten?" he asks.

"Wait until after dinner, please."

He loves being downstairs but it's not completely ferret-proof so I don't want him running around when we're busy eating. Ferrets are amazing creatures and are insanely good at finding the one thing in the house they shouldn't eat/destroy/climb/play with.

"Come get your drink, darling. Can you set the table?"

I'm mostly testing him, I want to see how he reacts. I pull out the plates, bowls and silverware and put them in a pile on the counter.

"Sure," he says, smiling.

"It's the least I can do."

He's cute, really cute. He's shirtless which... let me tell you... is a huge oversight on my part because how am I supposed to focus when all he's wearing is a little pair of bright yellow boxers with a huge sun on his ass? I pull the chicken out to rest for a minute and run upstairs to grab him a shirt.

"Thanks," he says, pulling it on.

"I like this one."

I'm going to have to order some more crazy shirts, most of mine are fairly boring. The few funny ones I have are gifts from Andy.

"Anything else I can do?"

I just have to butter and season the noodles.

"No, go ahead and sit... I'm about done."

I take the chicken to the table while the butter is melting, then take the noodles over. I did the salad and fixings half an hour ago so it's ready, something I learned from my mother.

"This looks and smells amazing Emmett, thank you."

"You're welcome, darling."

We both dig in. Finnegan eats an entire split chicken breast and plenty of noodles and salad to go with it.

I'm a glutton and eat two... it's really good.

"I don't want to wear diapers or have to call you Sir or get treated like a child" he blurts out.

'Okay.'

"I'm okay with all of that, Finnegan. Look, if you're a little, we get to make the rules. You do a perfectly good job of running your own life, darling, I don't want to micromanage it. That said, if you wanna come over here, have a good meal and relax for the evening, that I can do."

He's thinking.

"That sounds really good. This, this is really nice."

He's sitting with his legs perched up on his chair, it's adorable. He has a napkin in his lap and wipes his mouth, then tucks it back under the table.

"I like this silly cup. If that makes me a little, maybe I am one. I don't know. But all those rules, I mean, I just don't know if that's me. I want to be able to talk to you, as equals."

I want that too.

"I had a lot of rules in the Army, I don't need more now. Finnegan, I think we're just gonna have to see how this goes. I've sure as hell never done this before and I'm not sure you've really figured yourself out either. Who knows, maybe in a month you'll be more comfortable with me and want things you don't want now, you know? We're just gonna have to keep talking about it, as painful as it is, so we can make sure we're both happy."

"That's what I'm worried about Emmett, why would you want to date someone like me? You can't want to watch kiddie movies every night."

"Not every night, no. You're gonna have to put up with me watching baseball and my insane addiction to hoarders if we spend a lot more time together. But if you wanna lay on my lap and do, I don't know Finnegan, what do you do when you're, well, little?"

I didn't know how else to put it.

"I don't know. Once I went on YouTube and figured out how to make different paper airplanes. I made a couple and threw them all over my apartment. Is that weird?"

"Sounds like fun to me, darling."

"And I like toys. I... uh... I have some Lego I mess with. And I love cartoons... you know that. But I could watch on my laptop and use headphones."

He's so sweet.

"That would be fine. So serious question... are you always little when you're alone or if you can be? I'd like to know what to expect... is all."

He always thinks about his answers and I love that. He's not just blabbing the first thing that pops into his head.

"Sometimes I have to do stuff. Cook, shop, work. So when I have stuff to do I just do it but if I'm not busy I... yeah I guess I'm usually little, as you put it. I always thought it was just me."

"It is just you, Finnegan and that's fine. Okay so what if my house is little space? You don't have to do adult stuff here, right? I'll handle the cooking and if you have to work I assume you'd just go home. So when you come in here you can strip and get comfortable and we'll just give it a try?"

It's the best I can offer since we have no idea what we're doing.

"I can't believe you'd do that... I mean, why? It sounds really good but what do you get out of it?"

"Other than seeing you?"

He rolls his eyes, most of the sites I was on today would say that's worthy of a spanking.

"What?"

"There's no way you want to hang around a guy who likes to drink out of bendy straws."

Now I'm a little frustrated.

"Why not? What the fuck does it matter to me? How does it affect me at all? I couldn't give two shits, Finnegan. I like you, okay? You make me smile, you make me feel good, and I enjoy doing things with you. I think your sunshine boxers are cute and they make me happy. I've had enough sad and dark and dreary in my life, Finnegan. I could use more laughter and smiles and silliness. Okay?"

He walks over and I push my chair back because it looks like yes... he wants to perch on my lap.

"I'm sorry, Emmett."

His arms are wrapped around my shoulders and his cheek is resting on my forehead and all the anger drains out of me instantly.

"I want you happy, that's why I asked. I just want to make sure you're not doing this just for me, you know? That's not healthy. I've been in plenty of relationships where I didn't share this, where I was normal."

"And none of them lasted, Finnegan."

None of mine have either.

"No."

I think we both need a break... some time to process everything we've said. I give him a tap and he hops up.

"Why don't you go get Marten and I'll clean up."

"I could help, Emmett."

"You can help by playing with Marten, please."

I stand up too and gather our plates. He'd much rather do that and we need some space. Besides, I know how short his evenings are and there's really not much to do to clean up, I did some as I went.

"Okay, I'll get him. Um... are you mad at me?"

I can't have him thinking that so I drop the dishes on the counter and pull him into my arms.

"No, not at all."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

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sonnetsficofcringe · 2 years ago

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Awoken

Summary: you went for walk at the rural abandoned studio near your home and get stuck there due to a sudden weather change. This leads you to a trip down memory lane.

Warnings: a little angst. Y/n or “you” is used and afab.

Im on mobile so wording may look off and or weird, sorry in advance! Also i do not proof read and post late at night mmkay? Mmkay.

Chapter 1 ol’ rainy memories

Rain. Thunder.

Thats all you hear from outside studio. Your reasons to clear your head at this abandoned studio was always the same and it was a perfect reason.

The quiet and welcoming atmosphere.

Only this time she had to break in so she wouldn’t be stuck in the rain and get sick…

*sigh* “i might as well explore the inside while I’m trapped, wont be going to my van anytime soon.”

Your precious mini van you bought to store your precious flower babies. Having a big garden with flowers of all kinds, being colour coordinated when planted. You were proud of it.

Proud you could grow amazing and rare flowers, proud you could sell the extras during harvest time, proud to be a damned good gardener!

Yet, you were alone with just the flowers and plants to keep you company. Plants that can’t share your interests or congratulate your accomplishments, plants the can’t hug you back.

‘It’s fine, I’m ok alone’

You told yourself as always, walking through the studios lobby. Happening on the absolute most of a set of characters on a poster! Colourful characters smile and pose for a metaphorical camera(except one) with large words above them

W E L C O M E H O M E

The memories hit you like a truck, all that time watching your proclaimed “favourite show” while a child and not remembering it till now. You’re childhood self being the same but different than you are today. You had friends from school but not one came to visit, not to sleep over, not even a phone call hello.

But “they” were your friends.

Wally, Barnaby, Julie, sally, poppy, Eddie, frank and howdy. They were there when you woke up and when you left for school, cheering you up when sad and making you laugh for hours. Hell you got your distain for curse words from them! Though one or two slip out. So how did you forget them?

You begin to think back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment you forgot your best friend’s. Was it when you lost your wally plush and couldn’t watch the show without him? Was when your dad sold the Welcome Home VHS tapes? When your mom scolded you for still having childish interests?

You ponder this as your memories begin to fade a quickly as they came, you reach out as if to hold onto those memories for longer. Only to touch the poster in front of you.

Looking at you’re surroundings you notice not only are in a studio, you are in THE WELCOME HOME STUDIO! “SQUEEEEEE-“ You squeal in sync with clap of thunder. Getting all giddy and excited, you’ve wanted to be here for so long (or at least till you forgot).

You explore deeper into the studio thinking you’ll see them again.

Your best friends.

#welcome home #wally darling #fanfic #more to come #mention of other characters #first time posting #a fic #hope you enjoy

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stuyouknow · 2 years ago

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I Remember the times before.

I am old enough to remember when society was not actively at war with kids.* (In this context, "kids" refers to anyone under 50) We got to play outside, roam neighborhoods in little packs as we socialized and frolicked in communities. I remember that being taken away.

I remember the police coming as we congregated, telling us to go home, go to the park just go somewhere else. So we did. Then the skate parks, the unused fields, and the other places we went were shut down. Suddenly groups of kids weren’t welcome at parks you must be with parents.

Our parents were busy, just told us “go play outside” blind to the fact we couldn’t anymore. They voted to throw money at the police, who used that to make sure kids, especially teenagers couldn’t get a moment’s peace when outside. Suddenly the arcades and malls were all we had.

The arcades and malls worked for a while. Then we were chased from the malls. The arcades closed down or became too expensive for child money. We were kids and we got squeezed to play and congregate. We couldn’t afford it, so the arcades shut down. Then the era of home consoles-

Suddenly we had something we could do. It just happened to be in our homes. That meant you could have friends over but only in smaller groups. Then parents got sick of 6 kids that weren’t theirs eating their food. We were told to play outside. We couldn’t anymore.

So we, well now just me, could either play alone at my grandparents house, or read or play video games, alone. Alone alone alone. Introverts like me were fine for a while. The non introverts weren’t. They got angry, antsy, depressed. It was hell for them.

Then suddenly, the internet. People could find others to talk to. We felt less alone. Then the moral panics came for the internet. They couldn’t shut it down, but our new refuge was under siege. The only place for kids to socialize, was schools. Schools have cliques. Always have

Suddenly the youth had been carved up into cliques and small, predictable groups. We were made manageable, more homogeneous. And the adults picked favorites, and played favorites hard. The outcasts retreated further, while the favorites only had community until they graduated.

Is it any wonder people flocked to social media? They found an echo of what humans crave. Community. Then those spaces were used to pit each other against each other. Now we live in a world of chronicly lonely people who cling to the only connections they have.

But here is the thing. Even that pale echo is being taken from us now. Our spaces are crumbling, our leaders scheming to control and clamp down further with tick tok bans and stricter content guidelines. The youth have been hounded for most my life.

"ok Boomer" is nothing compared to that. millennials to gen-z can only lie in the bed others have made for them. Everytime we carve out spaces, they collapse because of corpo greed or puritanical meddling with any finical system attached. It is a tiresome pattern.

Want to know what would fix all this? Make people less chronically online? Give people their spaces back. Let people congregate and not be chased off for loitering, let us gather. Like we could before. Vaccinate, cause Corona is still a thing, and your politicians ignored it.

Make walk-able communities, set aside spaces for parks, libraries, gardens. Stop sending the cops after anyone just minding their own business outside their homes. Stop caging us like animals, and we will feel less like caged animals. We might even stop wanting to hate each other.

Fight for your place in the world. Make the places you fight for homes for everyone, including people not like you, and to do that, you absolutely can not tolerate those who will not tolerate the other. There is enough anger to go around as is, don't let yourself fall into contributing to it.

#Rant #Politics #observations of an older person #Social media

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wanderingaroundwithmysoul · 1 year ago

Note

"If you don't stop beating yourself up, I'm gonna beat you up for real." Rain firmly grasped Kaplan's shoulder. "Look at me. The one thing I know for certain about whatever the hell happened in that chamber is that she killed them, not you. You're better with all that computer shit than anyone I know, and that bitch must've known that. She had access to our files and all that, right? She wanted to trick you. She wanted us all dead. Hell, that thing that dented the door when you finally caught up to us? She didn't tell us about it because she wanted it to sneak up on us!"

She took a deep breath, realizing that the volume of her voice was steadily beginning to rise. "And if they survived, they wouldn't be blaming you, either." Another pause. "And, for the record, it's also not your fault I got shot. I should've known something was up when two of my closest friends were staring at me like I was a goddamn stranger."

As he described his encounter with a clone of One, Rain could feel the sense of unease she got whenever she was faced with them creeping up on her. Sans One, Rain had met clones of everybody in Sanitation. Herself included. One was a person she had a lot of respect for. With his deep, commanding voice and intimidating aura, he rarely met people who disobeyed him. Were Rain in Kaplan's position, she wasn't certain that she would have told One no so quickly. Even when she knew she was being unreasonable, it was hard not to get that traitorous spark of hope that told her they were the real deal.

"No belly button... You ever notice they all have Hollywood smiles too? I swear, meetin' those copies never feels any less awful or... or unsettlin'."

"It was him, then..." Despite getting it confirmed by Kaplan, Rain's brain still refused to accept that. She felt as though she did get off easy. That much was evident from her facial expression. Aside from the perpetual feeling of having foreign objects in her body, she was completely normal... as far as she was aware, anyway. Which for as sick as she had been, was a miracle beyond miracles. Matt hadn't gotten infected, to her recollection. Neither he nor Alice needed a dose of the antivirus back on the train.

The bucket list joke earned an eye roll with a slight twinge of amusement behind it. "You're a damn dork, man."

"Yeah, yeah... Good. You oughta know better than to ever doubt me by now." She looked over to where Kaplan had made a space for her. "Works for me." She deposited her bag onto the floor, which typically served as her makeshift pillow. "Sure, I'm down to rig my bike up tomorrow." For the first time in a long time, Rain felt as though she could strip off all her weapons and simply sleep in her shirt and pants. It—all of it was a welcome change. She promptly began to remove her belts and tactical vest. "Thanks for this. In order to show my appreciation, I'll try not to snore too loud."

"The hell is your problem, dude? Did you seriously forget about me? Or what, you think I'm a clone? Be for real."

It was getting dark, so Chad pulled his armored vehicle over to the side of the road and set about preparing to settling in for the night. Over the years, he'd accumulated a lot of tech to help him survive, from computers and GPS, to motion sensors, timers, and alarms. Generators and power storage units were essential, as were solar panels and other methods of harnessing power as electrical grids began to fail seemingly everywhere.

Some of the tech he built himself, having raided hardware stores for parts, and others he'd acquired from abandoned police stations and homes. It passed the time, to sit and occupy himself with building computers, or to set up surveillance systems, or to create spreadsheets to catalogue all of his supplies, and he liked to keep his skills sharp. Why? He didn't really know anymore. Maybe it just kept him sane. He had about a million flashlights, flares, weapons, and a multitude of ammunition types, complete with all the batteries, solar chargers, hardware enhancements, additional parts, and optional adjustments he could store.

Metal boxes, backpacks, and duffel bags were stacked in an almost hedge-maze-like fashion inside the armored vehicle he'd taken over after it had been abandoned by the military. His bed was little more than a shelf nestled into all this organized chaos, but he found it strangely comforting to be boxed in while he slept... especially since he was alone most of the time.

Occasionally he joined up with some survivors, but he found it difficult to remain with them. Their goals were vastly different, with civilians wanting to find somewhere safe to hunker down and barricade, and Chad wanting to keep on the move to see what he could do to screw Umbrella over or help other people.

He'd gotten his motion sensor perimeter up around his mobile home, as it were, and had just taken his nightly dose of painkillers so he'd have half a chance of sleeping. The deep scars from where the licker had grabbed him as well as the pain of a few broken bones that hadn't quite healed properly from being thrown off the train on the way out of the Hive had him pretty much in near-constant pain. He'd learned to live with it, and as long as he was busy and moving, he could ignore it. At night, though, he needed some extra help from good ol' pharmaceuticals. Just over-the-counter, though, nothing too heavy. He couldn't risk not being able to wake up if something significant went down. And absolutely nothing with an Umbrella logo on the bottle.

That was when one of his alarms went off, indicating that something was moving in the near vicinity of the vehicle. "Really?" he groaned, his head falling to the right as he lay in his bed to look at the screen across the way. Sure enough, it was blinking. Sighing, he sat up and typed away, looking at the camera feed indicating movement. To his severe disappointment, it wasn't one of the undead. It looked like a soldier of some kind. "Just perfect," he said cynically. Grabbing a couple guns, he went out to investigate. What he found was... startling, to say the least.

It... it was Rain. His heart began to pound. No, Rain's dead. Don't get fooled again by those stupid clones. Man, they were creepy... Clones of his now-deceased friends and comrades that often times acted nothing like the originals. The Rain ones... were always particularly nasty. He lifted his rifle, leveling it at her. "That's far enough," he said coldly, assuming this was a clone. How can it not be?

But then she spoke, and almost simultaneously he began to notice that she looked a bit older. The clones always looked young, pristine. Swallowing hard, Chad found it difficult to breathe with how vigorously his heart was now pounding, rattling his ribcage. Faltering a little in his resolve, the tip of his rifle slowly dipped a bit and he stared incredulously at her.

"N-no, I-... Of course I didn't forget about you, but..." But you're dead. You've gotta be. Forgetting Rain - or anyone else he'd lost in the Hive due to his incompetence, poor planning, and cracking under the pressure - was never an option. He saw their faces almost nightly in the twisted horrors of his guilt-fueled nightmares.

Chad blinked, not knowing what to do. The rifle lowered just a bit more at the mention of clones. "Yeah, actually, that's exactly what I'm thinking. Wait, you're-... Are you telling me you're not a clone?" Oh, how he wanted to believe that, but he'd been fooled before, almost fatally. "Come on, don't fuck with me..." he said, more with a crestfallen type of exhaustion than with any sort of real intimidation attempt. "If you're not a clone... then prove it."

If this really was Rain, the real Rain, then he was about to feel like a huge jerk momentarily. But if it wasn't... he couldn't afford to let his guard down...

#muse: rain melendez ocampo #checkxmaster #character: chad kaplan #verse: wandering

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looooooooomis · 3 years ago

Text

Don’t Fear The Reaper

pairing: ghost/incubus!billy x fem!reader word count: 4k warnings: s m u t (18++++++), masturbation (we gettin those vibeys out), tit-play, fingering. we teasing tonight. mild scream 5 spoilers I guess? but not really tbh at all.

a/n: so I know he’s not a ghost in scream 5, but after a request to see our boy billy as a ghost/incubus type thing, I needed to see it through. I hope you like it xxxx

masterlist here

Come on, baby. Don't fear the reaper...

You should have listened to your gut instinct the second that house came into view.

Everything inside of you, every fiber of your being, was screaming at you to stay in the car. To jump ship last minute and call it a day. You shouldn’t have been there. Not that house, the one with the infamous stained-glass window, the one that stood tall and foreboding at the end of Turner Lane. Nothing about that house was welcoming.

It might have looked like the typical suburban upper middle-class home, but its history alone told a much different story. You had felt the shift in energy a mile down the road and, while the third-party host that had hired you for the gig, hadn’t disclosed the exact whereabouts of the investigation, you weren’t an idiot.

You might not have been from Woodsboro, but you’d heard of the murders. It was hard to miss, growing up in the area, and the second that house came into view, you felt sick.

You shouldn’t have been there.

You’d promised yourself that you were done with these types of jobs. They were almost always in poor taste, the so-called investigators were almost never truly in it for anything more than clout and, more than anything, they wore you out.

By the end of the night, you were toast. A zombie.

But you were strapped for cash and the bills piling up on your kitchen counter made it a hell of a lot easier to agree to another shitty gig if it meant buying groceries for the next couple of weeks.

So, you’d done it.

You’d poked and prodded the house as the idiot with the camera followed you around like a lost puppy. He’d had a whole team under him. A camera operator, a sound technician, two or three other so called paranormal investigators and, of course, you.

The psychic medium. The missing piece of their shoddy investigation.

It was a gimmick for him, you knew as much. Something that would get the ratings a little higher on his acclaimed YouTube channel. To him, to most people, your so-called gift was nothing more than smoke and mirrors. Ghosts, otherworldly entities, none of that was real to them. You weren’t entirely sure the man operating the entire investigation believed in any of it, to be honest, but you were in no position to judge. Money talks, as they say, and you needed that money.

Even if you knew, deep down, that it would come back quite literally haunt you.

The first time you saw him, it was in that house. You were off camera, watching a few of the others tinker around with some high-tech gadget supposedly used to contact the other side, when something moving along the shadows caught your eye.

The darkness seemed to cling to him, humming with a vibration that only you seemed to hear despite the chaos and commotion surrounding you. At first, he was only a shadow – something that you might have convinced yourself hadn’t truly been there if you hadn’t felt him. It was as though a sheet of ice had come down on you, skirting across every inch of your skin as that shadow began to morph and blend into a man you just barely recognized as Billy Loomis came in to view.

But he was older, darker, than what you’d seen in the media. You’d grown up hearing about the Woodsboro murders and the two nutbars who had started the Ghostface killings – but the shadow staring back appeared older, much more lived in than the eighteen year old whose face had been plastered over every true crime doc and Stab reference for the last twenty-five years.

You’d been seeing ghosts and spirits and the like for as long as you could recall but there had been something so jarring about that night, seeing him in that house, that had felt so fucking foreboding that it was all you could do to look away and try to focus on the investigation at large.

Unfortunately for you, however, that shadow seemingly found solace in you. The one and only living person that had been able to see him, truly see him, since he’d died.

It started with little things here and there. Things being misplaced around your apartment, weird sounds and creaks in the middle of the night. You’d called them residual footprints, echoes of the past that followed you in the days and weeks that followed various investigations. They weren’t all too common, but you’d dealt with them in the past. The dead saw you as a beacon in their dreary afterlife, their one last connection to the living world – but something about this felt different.

Eventually, it escalated to actually seeing him. You’d wake up, far too often, with that piece of shit standing at the foot of your bed, smirking at you with a darkness in his eye that made you squirm. For weeks, you tried to ignore it. You didn’t want to play into its game of cat and mouse. Whatever or whoever he was, he thought he had the upper hand in scaring you because, like clockwork, there he was night after night. Smirking at you with that excitable little gleam in his dark eyes.

Then the dreams started.

They were always filthy and always involving Billy fucking Loomis. You could feel his hands all over you, touching you, groping you, fucking you as that sinful mouth of his ghosted across every inch of your skin. It was as though you could feel him some nights but you knew that wasn’t possible. Ghosts couldn’t do much in terms of projection and they certainly couldn’t touch you – but somehow he could.

It was nearly a month later when you started talking to him. Asking him what the fuck he was and just why he was haunting you of all people. You had no direct ties to the murders, didn’t know him from Adam in any life, so why was he attached to you?

“You’re fun to play with.” Was his answer. And just why that managed to excite you was a can of worms you truly didn’t want to open.

If you’d been smart, those eight little words should have been enough to have you running to the nearest exorcist. If you were smart, you would have gotten help before it got to this point because now in way over your head where the dead were concerned.

But you weren’t smart. You were a fucking idiot and the jolt of excitement that shot through your entire body each and every single night was like a drug at this point. You craved his attention, even if you’d never let on to it. Somewhere along the line, the idea of Billy Loomis watching you writhe in your sleep as you pictured him fucking you senselessly, became a regular part of your routine.

Which was precisely how you found yourself on a date tonight. With a living, breathing human being, because nothing about your current situation with the potential incubus in your apartment was normal or healthy.

And fuck did you need normal and healthy.

Greg, your date for the evening, seemed nice. He was funny, smart, kind and had the prettiest green eyes you’d ever seen. He was also a great kisser, something you couldn’t help but note as he steered you towards your bed, never once taking his mouth off of you as his hands roamed your body.

His thick fingers toyed with the strap of your dress as you heaved your chest towards his, hungry to feel more of him against your bare skin. He’d suggested going back to his house but if you needed a quick getaway, you knew where potential weapons were in your own home which is how you’d ended up with the back of your knees pressing against your bed as he gently ushered you down onto it.

“Nice apartment,” he breathed against your lips.

“Thanks,” came your breathless reply. “There’s some beer in the fridge, if you want one.”

Peeling the strap of your dress down to expose your tit, he smirked into your mouth before giving it a squeeze. “You know what, I’m actually okay here.”

You laughed as he began to kiss down your jaw and throat and as you allowed your head to fall back onto the pillow beneath your head, you felt the moment that The Shadow appeared. Felt his icy chill blanket across your warm skin.

You popped one eye open only to find that Billy was sitting down in the chair beside your bed, watching you with a sinister smile on his face as he watched Greg kiss his way down your naked chest.

“Lucky guy,” he mused, watching the man swirl his tongue around your nipple. “Looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

No, no, no, you thought, desperate to feel more of Greg and hear less of Dead Boy Billy. As subtly as you could, you flipped him the bird. You heard Billy laugh as you snapped your eyes shut.

“Did you bring him back here to make me jealous?” He cooed almost tauntingly. “Because if I’d have known you wanted me, really wanted me, I’d be doing a better job at making you come than this guy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to drown him out. This wasn’t fair. Greg was nice and he was hot and he could make you feel good, you knew he could, and here was Billy making you get lost in your own fucking head.

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, desperate to drown Billy out.

“Which one of us?” Billy asked, standing up to his full height to slowly pace around your room. When you didn’t answer, Billy reached out towards the handle of your closet only to open the door as slowly as he could so that its loud creaaaak filled your bedroom.

The sound was reminiscent of a fucking horror movie and you’d never hated anything more in your life than Billy Loomis in that moment.

Bastard.

Greg froze on top of you and glanced over your shoulder towards your closet. “What was that?”

You shook your head and steered his face towards you. “Nothing,” you breathed out. “It’s a shitty door, the latch is fucked.”

Seemingly pleased with your answer, he careened his face back down to your tit just as his hand began to wander down the rest of your body.

“Smart girl,” Billy commended quietly before walking towards your window. It had been propped up a few inches to circulate some air around your room but Billy had no problem slamming it down. The sound made both you and Greg jolt and while his eyes shot towards the window, yours were far too busy glaring daggers into Billy’s grinning face. “Explain that one.”

“What the fuck was that?” Greg asked, sounding more than a little rattled.

“Must have been a gust of wind,” you lied desperately.

“It’s not even windy tonight,” Greg remarked uneasily. Glancing back down at you, he blinked. “It’s only me and you here, right?”

You nodded way too fast. “Just me and you.”

Seemingly going over his options in his head, his cock must have won the small battle because the next thing you knew, he was kissing you again.

You heard Billy sigh and utter a quiet son of a bitch under his breath.

You weren’t dumb enough to think you’d won your little battle with the dead motherfucker but as he disappeared into the other room, you thought you might at least have a few moments of pleasure before he’d fuck it up for you entirely.

You were dead wrong.

Barely ten seconds went by before a loud crash came from your living room. Practically jumping off of you, Greg scurried out of your bedroom with you at his heel only to find your coffee table flipped on its side with a smirking Billy standing proudly in its wake.

“Honestly, you’re hot as fuck, but I’ve seen too many scary movies for this shit.” Was all Greg said before tearing out of your apartment like a bat out of hell.

Annoyance spread like wildfire inside of your chest as you walked over to door in a huff, locking it behind Greg as his heavy footfalls pounded down the hallway. You could feel Billy’s eyes on your back as your forehead fell flush against the door.

“Don’t be mad,” he teased, walking over towards you. You could feel the cold air on your back from where he stood a few feet away. It always seemed to cling to him like a fog. “I did you a favour.”

Squaring your shoulders, you turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re not really here so just why you think you can fuck around with my stuff and chase away a perfectly good guy is beyond me.”

“I’m not really here?” He echoed, followed you as you walked back to your bedroom. The coffee table was tomorrow’s problem. “Me being here would say otherwise.”

“Okay, well you shouldn’t be here.” You groaned.

Billy’s brow furrowed. “Says who?”

You blinked. “Logic? Sanity? My fucking therapist?”

He made a face. “Why are you going to a therapist?”

You flopped down on your bed dramatically and squeezed your eyes shut. “Billy, you’re fucking dead. You died, like, twenty-five years ago. You shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet I am,” he simply said.

Pushing yourself up, you leaned back on your elbows and scraped your eyes along his face. How a fucking ghost managed to look so incredibly real was a mystery to even you. It was as though he was made of flesh and bone, you could almost smell him, for god’s sake. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

Another groan slipped out of your lips as you fell back once more. “I should have upped my meds.”

“So dramatic,” he huffed, leaning against your dresser. He crossed his legs at the ankles as those dark eyes bled into your exposed frame.

“I’m talking to a fucking ghost, I’m allowed to be dramatic.”

Billy smirked. “Well, see, hey. That’s progress. Now you’re at least admitting that I’m a ghost. Not some fucked up little wet dream in your head.”

Pushing yourself up so that you were seated on the edge of your bed, you glowered across at him. “Get out of my room.”

“No.”

“Billy.” It was the first time you’d said his name out loud and you hated the way the room seemed to feel smaller with just the two of you inside of it now. “You scared my date away. The least you could do is grant me the privacy to fuck myself seeing as how nobody else is doing it for me.”

Billy’s dark eyes danced across your face in mild amusement. “Is that an invitation?”

“No.” Rolling off of the bed, you grabbed for the vibrator in your top drawer before glancing over your shoulder. “I said get out.”

“And I said no,” he repeated, his voice gravelly and low. “Fuck yourself, I won’t stop you. But I’m not leaving until I see that pretty mouth of yours scream my name. I know you’ve dreamt about it.”

Maybe it was the almost sinister look in those familiar eyes or maybe it was your own carnal desperation to finish what Greg had started, you hiked your dress up around your hips and yanked your thong down your thighs, never once taking your eyes off of Billy as he sat up a little straighter and swallowed.

Immediately, his eyes shot down to your cunt. You were wet, he could see your slick glistening in between your folds and felt his mouth water as he you positioned the toy between those perfect fucking thighs of yours.

“How did you manage to snake your way into my dreams?” You asked, turning the Satisfyer on. You’d used it a thousand times over, knew the exact position to keep it in order to feel the toy sucking at your clit as the wand vibrated against your sopping cunt but there was something about doing it under his watchful gaze that made everything hotter.

“It’s not that hard,” he pushed out gruffly. In a few short steps, he crossed the threshold of your bedroom and sank down on your queen sized bed. The familiar coolness that wafted off of his aura greeted you and raked across your nearly naked body as you continued to fuck yourself, never once taking your eyes off of his. “I just lay right here, close enough to touch you but far enough away to make you want it. I know I’ve gotten inside of that pretty little head of yours when you start whimpering.”

Your quiet moan sliced into the silence of your apartment as the vibrator continued to suck and pulse against your clit.

“Have you ever tried touching me?” You found yourself asking.

“No.” He shook his head as his eyes slowly fell to your nipples, straining painfully against the silken dress around your body. “Not for lack of wanting to. Do you want me to touch you?”

You were doing your damnedest not to give into the allure of this man but it was impossible and you knew it. You didn’t know what Billy Loomis was. A ghost, a demon – but whatever he was, your body craved for it.

No! Pulling the vibrator away from your clit you squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to ignore Billy. “This can’t be fucking real.”

“But it is real,” he simply said. Slowly, that chill became all-encompassing as he slowly reached out towards you. Your eyes sprung open and watched with bated breath as he slowly pulled your dress further down your chest to expose your tits. Grinning, those eyes found yours as his icy hands enveloped around your bare breast. “Feels pretty real, doesn’t it, baby?”

You moaned and, on instinct, arched into his chilled palm. He did feel real – but how? How was a fucking ghost touching you right now?

“How?” You managed to say, but it came out as a pathetic whimper as your Satisfyer continued its assault. “How can I feel you right now?”

“God, you’re so fucking warm.” He whispered, kneading your tits with greedy hands. “So fucking soft, too.”

“Shit,” you rasped out, removing the vibrator again as a form of punishment for letting this happen. How fucking desperate were you?

“Why torture yourself?” Billy whispered in your ear. His voice felt like velvet and tasted like sin as that chilled hand skirted down from your tits and along your stomach before ghosting across your mound. Applying the smallest bit of pressure to your hand, he ensured your vibrator was back down on your clit before sliding his fingers through your folds. “Fuck yourself for me, sweetheart.”

Slowly, as though testing the waters, Billy’s fingers felt more real than ever as they slid inside of your cunt. A quiet, breathy moan slipped out of his lips as he felt you buck into his hand. It had been too fucking long since he’d felt this kind of thrill and the way your body was reacting to his was intoxicating.

“I’ve thought about doing this every fucking night,” he muttered, his voice sending shockwaves through your entire body. “Every fucking night, hearing you whimper and moan, not being able to fuck you the way you deserve. It’s been hell.” He nuzzled your neck and bit down. “And trust me, baby, I know what hell feels like.”

You lulled your head to face him. He was so close to you, you could feel him on your cheek, feel him fucking you with those dept fingers. Maybe you were feeling bold on account of your entire body screaming to be touched, or perhaps you rather liked this little game the two of you were playing, rather than answer him, you reached across your small divide with the hand not currently operating the vibrator and gently touched his cheek.

It was cold, much like the rest of him, but it was there.

“How?” You tried again, baffled. All your life you’d seen spirits but never had anything like this happened. You’d never been able to reach out and touch any of the ghosts from your past so why could you touch Billy?

“I don’t know,” he admitted, this time quieter. “But it won’t last long. It never does. I shouldn’t have thrown your fucking coffee table, I would have saved some energy. But seeing him touch you like that?”

A low growl escaped his lips.

“I fucking hate that table, anyway.” You mumbled, biting back a moan. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

You could feel the length of his cock on your thigh when he spoke his next few words. “Not until I hear you scream for me, remember?”

You were about to open your mouth to speak when you felt his lips on your neck, trailing sloppy kisses down the length of your throat as he quickened his pace on your pussy. Between the Satisfyer sucking at your clit and Billy’s fingers, you were riding a high unlike any other.

“What if I wanted you to fuck me?” You asked, desperation clipping your tone.

“If,” he echoed our sadistically. Curling his fingers inside of you, he grinned at the salacious moan he got in return. “That’s no if.”

“You know what I mean,” you were breathless and whining for him as he finger fucked your cunt. “Could you?”

He wanted nothing more than to bury his cock inside of your hot cunt. To feel you all around him as he sliced into you. He needed to taste you, to feel those thighs wrap around his head, needed to feel every inch of you because, fuck, it had been so long since he’d felt anything let alone someone this good.

But he couldn’t – not yet, at least.

It had taken him nearly two whole months to work up to this and he was fading fast. But he’d touch you like this every single night until he could fuck you the way you deserved. The way he needed to. He was going to make sure you got a taste of him, in some way shape or form every day until he had it in him to fuck you good.

He knew without a doubt, the second you actually saw him at that fucking house, that he needed you. It was why he followed you home, why he’d watched you, memorized you, every day since.

One day, one day soon, he’d have you all to himself.

“I can, and I will,” he avowed. “Now, scream for me, sweetheart,” Billy demanded, biting down on your nipple. Unlike the rest of him, his hot mouth was hot on your skin. “I need to hear you.”

He wasn’t gentle as he bit down on your nipple and as he quickened his pace on your cunt, the moan that tore out of your throat was enough to kill him all over again.

“Billy,” you moaned. Fire burst inside of your chest as an orgasm ripped through your entire body. He’d seen you come a dozen times in your sleep over the last few weeks but there was something about feeling you unravel against him, unravel because of him, that made Billy relentless. Even when the vibrator fell from your fingers and onto the bed between your thighs, he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He needed this, needed you to feel just how good he could make you feel until he was able to do this again.

Finally, begrudgingly, he pulled away from you and felt that physical connection the two of you had just shared wane. He was fading fast now, and as you lulled your head towards him with those dreamy eyes, you seemed to know as much.

“Goodnight, Billy.” You smiled slightly. “Maybe now that we got that out of our system, you can go to the light or…go back to hell or whatever.”

You and that fucking mouth.

Before Billy lost the ability to touch you again for the rest of the night, he managed kiss you. It was short and almost sweet and the chill of them against your own was enough to make you shiver as those brown eyes melted into yours.

“No chance,” he muttered. “Tonight was only the beginning, sweetheart.”

taglist: @bubblebuttwade @artsymaddie @frankiemorales @matchapixiegirl @jettia

#Billy Loomis #billy loomis fanfiction #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x fem!reader #scream #scream x reader #scream x you #slasher boyfriends #Scream 1996 #scream 5 spoilers

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curseofaphrodite · 3 years ago

Text

self-made sculptures

TASM!PETER X FEM!READER || sequel to modern art

a/n: for the second and final part, I thought you guys would ask for a happy ending, but instead, all I received were requests on peter being guilty and sad as hell (ily for it). I told you all of us had pain kink! WARNINGS: Super mean to peter, swearing, and let's please assume avengers existed after tasm2.

No matter how happy and fun they are made out to be, High School reunions are nothing but about power. Who got their dream jobs, who broke up, who are now in desperate need of money – it has always been about power.

But you did miss most of your old friends, and RSVPing no wasn’t your forte. Besides, using it as an excuse gave you a break from work. Looking at the ocean of familiar faces, you didn’t regret your decision. You missed those fuckers, no matter how annoying some of them were years ago.

There were also people you weren’t looking forwards to seeing; Peter being on the top of the list. Him showing up at all was surprising. Did he even have any friends? After your messy breakup, the only person he talked to was Gwen, but that had an end even worse than yours.

Which means he came to talk to you.

All through the night, you moved in directions opposite to him, and generally kept yourself busy so he wouldn’t get a chance to say hi. You had thought you wouldn’t be that bothered by his presence, which was why you came at all. But standing under the bright lights, you kept glancing here and there, nervously tapping your feet against the floor.

It was as if you were suddenly consumed by every memory you had of him — how he promised you forever then left you alone days later. Despite everything, you had continuously told yourself it wasn’t his fault he fell in love with Gwen. But if he was out of the picture, you had no one to blame but yourself—

“Y/N?” Aimee called, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Are you okay? You look a bit sick.”

“No, I’m fine. You were telling me about your husband, right?” you asked, smiling.

“Wait, let me,” she turned to look at the group of men near the giant welcome sign. “Mark, get over here! Say hi to Y/N!”

“Mark?” your mouth fell open. “Since when have you guys been dating?”

“A lot of things happened these past few years, Y/N. Our wedding, my haircut, and the fact that there are literally more superheroes than Hallmark Christmas movies."

"I like it," Mark added, coming over. "NightShade saved me the other day."

"From monsters?" you asked, your eyes wide.

NightShade was a well-known fighter who had recently joined the Avengers along with Alexandrite and The Vulture. Why they all had such cryptic names was yet to be known. Unlike the rest of the Avengers, they decided to keep low profiles, meaning they were just as anonymous as Spiderman.

"No, he walked right onto the traffic without looking at the signal," Aimee said, exhausted.

"Hey, you're sore because he's your favorite Avenger and I got to meet him."

"No, my favorite is Alexandra, she's so badass," she sighed dreamily.

"Her name is Alexandrite," Mark corrected. "Just call her Alexa like the rest of the city does."

"I know who your favorite is, Y/N," she said, ignoring her husband. "You always had the hugest crush on a certain Spiderman. Too bad he's not an Avenger."

You rolled your eyes at that, making her frown.

“You don't like him anymore?” she asked incredulously. You shrugged.

“I'm over him. He’s not that great,” you muttered, taking a sip of the juice Mark had just handed over.

Peter, who was obviously listening in on the conversation from the other end of the room, had enough.

“Uhm, code red,” Aimee said, mostly out of habit. It was what she used to say anytime Peter was within a 5 mile radius after you broke up. And just like back then, you almost choked on the drink, then put it down on the table with a dull thud.

“Hey!” Peter said, and Mark was the only one who smiled.

“Ehm, babe, let’s go say hi to Watsens,” Aimee said, pulling Mark away. You knew she was trying to give you privacy, but the last thing you wanted was to be alone with Peter Parker.

You were about to walk away too, but he grabbed your elbow, maybe out of his superhero reflex. You glared at him, making him let go as if he touched fire.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Listen, can we talk?”

“No,” you said firmly.

“I came all this way to talk to you,” he said desperately. “It won’t take a minute, I swear.”

“Let me guess, are you about to apologize?”

He sighed, hating how he made it obvious.

“You said sorry that day,” you smiled forcefully. “It didn’t do much. Won’t do anything now.”

“I—"

“Enjoy the party, Pete. I think I’m going to head out early.”

He felt desperately guilty again, and guilt was something Spiderman had yet to master bearing. He didn’t want you to walk away, not before he plead his case.

“I saved you!” he said loudly, earning a fair few stares from the people nearby.

You turned, scoffing. “Excuse me?”

“I saved you,” he repeated, taking a step and lowering his voice. “You didn’t lose anything, I did.”

“You’re saying Gwen’s death is my fault?” you asked, your voice sharp.

“God no,” he disagreed quickly. “I’m just, look, I lost her because I was stupid. If anyone should be angry here, it’s me. What did you lose?”

“You,” you breathed, amazed he even had to ask. “You think I should be grateful I’m even alive? That’s your big apology? And as shitty as that is, don't you think it's a bit too late for that?”

“After Gwen's death, for years I wanted to knock on your door and beg for forgiveness.”

“Then why didn’t you?” you snapped.

“Because I knew if I talked to you again,” he paused. “I would have doomed you too.” I would have fallen in love with you again. “I'm cursed.” And I didn't want to lose you too.

“You have a hell of a god complex, Peter. Let's take a trip down the memory lane," you said, your words hurried. "If you hadn't fallen in love with her, we would have still been dating—"

"No—"

"Don't interrupt. Gwen worked at Oscorp. She was at top of that freaking clock tower because of Green Goblin, who I didn't even know! So no, I wouldn't have died. It's literally impossible that I would have been standing at the same spot she was. I wouldn't have died. She wouldn't have died if you hadn't fucked us up!"

"Y/N." The way he said your name irked you because that was exactly how he used to say it years ago. Calm and quiet, as if he's right and everyone knew it.

You wanted nothing more than wipe that sympathetic smile off his face. And that's exactly what you did. Your words came out hushed, but you knew he could hear them.

"You didn't save me, Peter. You killed her."

His face drained of blood, amazed at how cruel you could be if you set your mind to it. You were about to walk off, leaving him broken like he once left you, but he decided to surprise you in return too.

"Just because you wear it on your hand doesn't mean it's invisible." He said, loud and clear.

You turned, tilting your head sideways, almost amused, almost stunned. "Goodbye, Parker."

Once you reached outside, you took a deep breath in and looked at your hand. Perfectly manicured fingers stared back, along with a single ring finishing the look. You weren't married, no. But in a way, the ring was just as important.

The only reason Alexandrite was better known as Alexa was because of misinformation, and everyone assumed the woman behind the mask must be someone with the same name.

But what most forgets is that Alexandrite is also a gem, like the one in your ring.

Exactly like the one in your ring.

————————

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cherry-writes-yanderes · 3 years ago

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I absolutely adore how you wrote Yandere Gregory! You really nailed it as kids are already by nature possessive and bossy. And I can imagine even if you fight back against him (pushing, throwing off), there's his much larger, stronger, faster, resilient, and overprotective bodyguard named Freddy he'll exaggerate the story to and probably will get so upset, he almost overwrites his "no hurting guests" programming but Gregory soothes him before it happens. Then he can use that scenario against you in the future as further evidence you don't want to upset papa bear's kid and that includes leaving. Speaking of which, may we please get a reader who attempts to escape yandere!Glamrock Freddy but fails? Please make this a story. Like maybe it didn't occur to him that they can find a way out through his seemingly inescapable charging room through the vent. I'm so sorry. I just feel like having a chase scene and he takes them back to his room by force while being very upset that his sweetheart would even think about leaving him. Damn! I might as well write it myself, that was specific as hell lol

Yeah, take your time! I completely understand how demanding college is. I've been there.

A/N: Don’t be sorry sweetie! You’re welcome to long asks ;) I appreciate your kind words, they mean so much!~ I hope you enjoy! 💕 Also, apologies that this took so long! Life has been busy!! ^^; As well as the fact that this isn’t too great but let’s not talk about that-

~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: gender neutral reader, overprotective behavior, kidnapping, isolation, mentions of physical abuse, force-feeding, drugging, threats of harm, blood, claustrophobia triggers

~~~~~~~~~~

Neon Lights and Bloody Stages

In Freddy’s Green Room, you could never tell the time of day. Time was only driven by three instances: when Freddy would leave for performances, when Freddy would come back from them, and when that blonde lady would come and check on you.

On a bad day, she’d heal your wounds. Those days were few and far between, since Freddy was a big sweetheart most of the time, but sometimes you’d get what Freddy called “fussy”. You hated it, he acted like you were a damn child sometimes.

Today was different, though. Today was the day you would leave for good. You would leave behind the pizza and soda you were fed every day, the nights being drugged with sleeping candy, those long days of just waiting for someone to finally realize you were gone. You were sick of relying on someone else, and the time was now.

You knew it was destiny when you finally plucked up the courage to look around for a possible escape and finding one in a vent in the wall that you knew you could squeeze into. You guessed that the vent led out to the main area, or even a maintenance area which would prove to be even better. You could not risk Freddy catching you. It would be hell to pay.

Freddy was gone for the long day of performing for children, so now was your chance to leave the room. You internally said goodbye to all of the Freddy-themed things in the room, knowing that you would never have to stare at them for hours on end again. You pulled the vent cover off, the metal slicing into your fingers; but you didn’t care. You were ready to leave.

“Sweetheart! I came back with some pizza-”

You heard his mechanical voice and heavy body enter through the door, your blood freezing in place. You were too late, and he caught you.

“Star? W-What are you doing?” He asked, his ears down as far as they could go on his animatronic head. He was holding a pizza box, fresh from the oven. For a moment, you felt bad. He came early just for you?

You shook it off, knowing that you needed to leave for your own good. You couldn’t stop now for some good-smelling pizza. You quickly launched yourself into the vent and scrambled quickly through the dusty metal box-like hallway as you heard his heavy metal footsteps following after you. You barely dodged his large hand swatting at your leg, trying to pull you back. You crawled on, even after hearing his distressed cries for you.

After what seemed like forever, you managed to get to an area that you thought was safe. It was a long stretch of hallway made of concrete, with yellow paint on the ground. You wondered if this was the staff hallway, and you tried to navigate yourself through. It felt like it went forever, and you wandered around it for what seemed like hours trying to find an exit.

“Star!” Freddy called, utter joy in his voice from finding you. You immediately take off, running in the opposite direction. The sound of his metal footfalls was terrifying, and you prayed that you’d find another vent. No such luck found you.

You burst through some doors, finding yourself in the main area of the Pizzaplex. The neon lights blinded you, and you tried to look away as you ran. You could hear him calling for you in the distance, so hiding was the best option for now.

A photo booth sat at the crossroads between a staircase and another hallway, so you decided to hide there to hopefully throw the animatronic beast off. You heard his stomping feet move in a direction you weren’t in, causing you to laugh internally. You were so tired of being stuck in the same area, with the same person every time.

You heard someone talking, which made you jump a bit. The only person that you recognized the voice of was the blonde lady, who you still didn’t know the name of. Maybe if she knew you escaped, she could help? It was worth a shot. You carefully emerged from the photo booth, shyly walking up to her.

“(Y/N)?! What are you doing out here?!” She jumped, looking right at you with eyes wide. She was honestly shocked that you were able to escape, and she gave you credit for it.

“Please, help me leave!” You begged her; your hands clasped together to really drive the point home. You heard her sigh out of her nose, her hand on her hip.

“Take them back, Freddy.”

Your heart nearly stopped. A red light shone from above you, and your eyes slowly looked up to reveal Freddy standing right behind her. He had a blank expression on his face, which you knew wasn’t good at all. The lady stepped out of the way, causing you to try and bolt again. This time, you weren’t so fast.

Freddy grabbed you by the arm, literally dragging you back kicking and screaming to the Green Room. You cried and begged him not to hurt you, but his expression stayed the same. He wasn’t his bubbly, innocent self in this moment. It was truly terrifying for you to see.

As soon as you were tossed into the room like a rag doll, you were scooped up into Freddy’s arms and held like a baby as he sat on the floor. You could feel the terrible burn of the floor on your sides and back, the sting almost too much to bear.

“Why would you try to leave me, Star?...” He asked sadly, giving you the nickname that you had been dubbed with when you two met. He held you even tighter as he forced a Moondrop candy down your throat, hushing you the whole time like a baby.

“Don’t worry... Vanessa will make sure that you don’t have anyone to go home to...” His voice distorted, your vision fading as the candy kicked in.

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