#yandere forsaken murderer

[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt. 7

Word Count: 19.4k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, dubcon, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding, possession, mentions of pregnancy, FILTHY sex, fighting, gunshots, mentions of murder, manipulation, overstimulation if you squint, pet names like, kitten, sweetie, honey, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, Xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel, @emidpsandia , @angel-jupiter, @hwangintakswifey, @webmvie, @housesortinghat,

AN: Hi all, I know this chapter is a tad bit long, but I promise, its WORTH it. Per usual this is on A03! I'm like a day late from my usual uploading schedule (usually one chapter every 3-4 days) so I hope yall take this extra long chapter as an apology. I did not hold back on the smut, I genuinely hope yall enjoy!

“Let’s see…” he murmured, pretending to ponder, as if this were some casual decision for him to make. His fingers traced the nape of your neck, their touch light but chilling, sending jolts of dread through you. His hand moved with a practiced, deliberate care, as though every inch of your body was territory he owned. "Which one of these spots," he whispered, his voice taking on a dark, playful edge, "will make this kitten mewl?"

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.8

Xavier couldn’t tell how long he had been walking. Time had blurred into the inky darkness of the N109 Zone, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him with every step. His legs felt heavy, his throat dry, but his focus remained sharp. The soft, steady ping of his hunter’s watch echoed in the silence, pulling him forward. Somewhere ahead, the shoe store waited—the only lead he had left. And all he had to rely on was the sword strapped across his chest and his unwavering will to find you.

His fingers brushed the hilt of the blade as he walked, its weight a cold reassurance against his body. He wasn't sure how effective it would be against any other humans that attempted to mug him as he was used to fighting wanderers with it, but it would have to do. He was glad he had at least gotten out the car with it. He had moved it to his chest in case someone decided to sneak behind him while he was distracted and take it. Out here, in this wasteland, he was vulnerable without a vehicle, without the tools and resources he normally carried. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was you.

The streets around him were desolate, the buildings crumbling and lifeless, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. He could hear his own breath in the silence, shallow but steady, the cold air biting at his skin. Every now and then, he’d catch the distant echo of movement—too far off to be a threat, but close enough to remind him he wasn’t alone in this forsaken place. The N109 Zone was crawling with people desperate enough to do anything, and he knew he needed to stay alert.

He couldn’t shake the memory of what had happened—the screaming woman, the setup, the way his car had been stolen right from under him. He cursed under his breath, the sting of his own stupidity still fresh. He had fallen for it so easily, and now he was on foot, more vulnerable than ever.

Xavier clenched his jaw, replaying the earlier scene in his head. The way she had cried out for help, clutching her side like she was in agony, the way her eyes had flickered with panic. He should have known better. He did know better. But in that moment, with everything closing in, he had let his instincts take over. He thought he was helping someone. Instead, he had been played.

“Dammit” he muttered to himself, fingers tightening on the hilt of his sword as he kept up a steady pace. He couldn’t afford mistakes like that, not now. Not when you were out there, somewhere, needing him to stay sharp. He had to be smarter, more careful. The N109 Zone wasn’t a place for second chances.

His legs were growing heavy, the muscles in his calves burning from the relentless pace. Every few steps, he felt the dull throb of fatigue creeping into his knees and hips, a reminder that his body wasn’t invincible. His feet, blistered and sore, screamed for him to stop, to rest—if only for a moment. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

"Just a little further," he muttered under his breath, clenching his teeth against the pain.

He had been walking for what felt like hours, the weight of the sword strapped across his chest growing heavier with every step. His back ached from the constant pressure, his shoulders tense and knotted. But none of that mattered. He couldn’t afford to stop. Not when he was so close.

Each step felt like it might be the last, but the thought of you—struggling, god knows where—kept him moving. The sound of your voice from the phone call replayed in his mind, the fear and desperation in your tone fueling him, reminding him why he had to keep going.

The streets began to blur together, one broken block after another. His breaths came in shallow bursts, his lungs burning as he fought through the exhaustion. He was tired—no, he was beyond tired—but his will to find you was stronger than the fatigue gnawing at him. He couldn’t let it win.

Up ahead, the faint glow of a yellowed sign caught his eye. It was flickering weakly, casting long, broken shadows across the pavement. He squinted, his tired eyes struggling to focus. There it was—the address the watch had been guiding him toward. The shoe store.

Xavier let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His feet felt like lead, every step toward the store a battle against the growing urge to collapse. But the sight of the sign was enough to keep him moving. He was almost there.

As Xavier drew closer to the shoe store, he couldn’t help but feel a knot of doubt tightening in his chest. The outside of the building didn’t match what he had expected. The flickering sign was barely legible, the letters worn and faded, and the windows were grimy with age, giving the place a run-down appearance. It didn’t look like the kind of high-end store that sold the sleek, expensive boots the clerk had described—the same shoes your captor had been wearing.

He slowed his pace, his tired feet grateful for the brief respite as he studied the building. This can’t be right, he thought, a frown pulling at his lips. The store looked more like a relic from a forgotten time, barely holding itself together in the decaying sprawl of the N109 Zone. The mismatched paint on the door and the rusted metal frame didn’t scream wealth or sophistication. Nothing about it said “luxury.”

Xavier’s mind raced, questioning whether his watch had guided him to the wrong place. The man who took you, S, wasn’t just some street thug. He had resources, money—it was clear from the boots alone. So why here? Why a store that looked like it belonged in the past, forgotten like rest of the city?

His fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword, the familiar weight grounding him. The exhaustion still gnawed at him, his body screaming for rest, but he pushed the thought aside. He didn’t have time for second guesses. Even if this place didn’t look like much, he had to see it through. There was a reason his watch had led him here, and right now, it was the only lead he had.

Xavier’s blue eyes narrowed as he approached the door, the soft ping of his watch still steady on his wrist. It had never been wrong before. Maybe there was more to this store than what the outside suggested. Maybe S had connections, or maybe this place wasn’t as abandoned as it seemed. Either way, he had to be sure.

With a deep breath, he stepped toward the entrance, his hand resting on the door handle. He could feel the tension building inside him, his muscles coiled and ready for whatever might be waiting on the other side.

Xavier pushed open the door, bracing himself for the dingy interior he had expected based on the store’s run-down exterior. But as he stepped inside, he was immediately hit with a wave of disbelief. The space before him was nothing like the crumbling facade suggested. It was… luxurious.

Golden light bathed the polished floors, and the soft scent of leather and expensive cologne filled the air. Rows of sleek, high-end shoes lined the walls, each pair displayed under soft spotlights that highlighted their craftsmanship. Everything from the plush chairs in the waiting area to the glass display cases screamed elegance. The contrast between the worn-down exterior and the opulent interior was staggering.

For a moment, Xavier stood frozen in the doorway, his tired feet sinking into a plush carpet that muffled every sound. This wasn’t just a shoe store—it was a shrine to wealth and exclusivity, hidden behind the illusion of neglect. Clearly, this place wasn’t meant for just anyone. The shabby outside had been nothing but a mask, a way to keep out the prying eyes of the city’s less desirable inhabitants.

They were certainly selling more than just shoes.

He scanned the room, taking it all in. The shoes were high-end, just as the clerk had said—designer labels, rare materials, the kind of footwear that cost more than most people made in a month. The kind of shoes that only someone with serious money could afford. Someone like S.

Looks really could be deceiving.

Xavier’s mind raced. If this store catered to people like S, then maybe he was finally on the right track. Maybe the person who had taken you had come through here, thinking no one would ever suspect a connection to a place buried so deep in the N109 Zone.

His heart pounded, adrenaline kicking in as the exhaustion in his legs momentarily faded. He was closer to answers than he had been all night.

Behind the sleek glass counter at the back of the store, two men stood in conversation, their voices low but animated. One of them was tall and broad-shouldered, his tailored suit fitting him perfectly, the fabric shimmering subtly under the warm light. His dark hair was slicked back, and his fingers twitched as he gestured while speaking, a fat cigar wedged between them, sending curls of thick smoke into the air. The smoke hung heavily around his face, casting shadows over his sharp, predatory features. His eyes were dark and calculating, darting between the man beside him and the wares in the store, as if always on the lookout for the next move.

The other man was shorter, with a stockier build and a face that looked like it had seen one too many fights. His nose was crooked, a clear sign of old breaks, and his lips were drawn into a permanent scowl. He leaned casually against the counter, but there was a hardness to his posture, like he was always ready to snap into action. His eyes, though half-lidded with boredom, flicked toward the door with keen awareness as soon as Xavier entered.

For a moment, the two continued their conversation, but when they noticed Xavier standing there, something changed. The man with the cigar froze mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Xavier. His gaze shifted immediately to the sword strapped across Xavier's chest, the blade unmistakably visible under the store's soft lighting. The other man straightened, his scowl deepening as he looked Xavier up and down, suspicion clear on his battered face.

They exchanged a brief glance, their conversation forgotten. It was clear Xavier didn’t fit the usual profile of their clientele—well-dressed, wealthy types who’d come for rare shoes, not a man wandering in with a weapon strapped to his body, his clothes dusted from the road, looking out of place among the store’s refined luxury.

The man with the cigar took a slow drag, blowing out a cloud of smoke before speaking. His voice was smooth but laced with tension. “You lost, pal? Don’t think we’ve seen you around here before.” His eyes lingered on the sword a little too long.

The other man crossed his arms, his posture stiffening. “We don’t usually get the sword-swinging type in here,” he added with a sneer, his tone carrying an edge of hostility.

Xavier could feel their eyes drilling into him, the tension in the room palpable. They weren’t used to outsiders—especially ones who looked like they were ready for a fight.

Xavier remained unfazed by their stares, standing tall as he took in the two men sizing him up. His heart beat steadily beneath his chest, the weight of the sword across his body a constant reminder of the danger he was prepared to face. But he wasn’t here to start a fight—not yet, anyway.

“I’m looking for a pair of boots,” Xavier said, his voice calm and even. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the crumpled pamphlet the clerk back in Linkon had given him. He held it out, offering it to the taller man.

The taller man raised a dark eyebrow, his cigar still smoldering between his fingers. He didn’t say anything at first, just flicked his eyes from Xavier’s face to the pamphlet in his hand. After a moment of tense silence, he reached forward and plucked the paper from Xavier’s grasp, holding it between two fingers like it was something foreign. He glanced at it, his expression unreadable as his eyes scanned the image of the shoes.

"These," Xavier continued, nodding at the pamphlet, "were mentioned to me by a clerk. Said I could only find them here. Figured I’d check it out.”

The taller man took a long drag of his cigar before flicking the ash into a nearby tray, his gaze never leaving the pamphlet. Slowly, his lips curled into something that might’ve been a smile, but there was no warmth behind it—only suspicion. He flipped the paper over, examining it from every angle, as though looking for some hidden meaning.

"Yeah, these are high-end," the man finally said, his voice slow, almost mocking. “Not the kind of thing just anyone walks in and buys.” He held the pamphlet up, the glow from the store lights glinting off the printed image. “And you don’t look like someone who usually shops here.”

The stocky man leaned forward, still watching Xavier closely, his scowl deepening as if he didn’t trust a single word. “So, who exactly sent you here, huh?” His voice was sharper now, probing. “You’re not exactly our regular kind of customer.”

Xavier met their suspicion head-on, his expression calm and unwavering. He wasn’t here for their games. He was here for answers.

Xavier stood there for a moment, weighing his options. He could lie, make up some story about why he was really there, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. These men were sharp, too familiar with deception to fall for anything that didn't add up. He needed answers, not more dead ends. So, he decided to be straightforward—at least, as much as he could afford to be.

"I'm looking for someone," Xavier said, his voice low and steady. He kept his eyes on the taller man, watching his every reaction. “A man who goes by 'S'. I was told he might have been in here recently, maybe bought a pair of those shoes.”

For a moment, the room seemed to freeze. The taller man’s fingers stopped tapping the pamphlet, and the stocky one stiffened, his arms crossing even tighter over his chest. They exchanged a brief, tense glance.

Xavier could feel the shift in the air, the sudden unease hanging between them. It was subtle, but unmistakable. Whoever this "S" was, they knew him, or at least knew of him. And the fact that Xavier had mentioned his name seemed to set off alarm bells.

The taller man’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, guarded expression. He took another drag from his cigar, blowing the smoke into the air as he stared at Xavier, sizing him up once more. “S?” he repeated, his voice slow and deliberate, as if testing the waters.

“Never heard of him,” the stocky man cut in, his voice gruff, almost too quick. “Nobody like that shops here.”

Xavier held their gaze, not flinching. He could see the flicker of worry behind their eyes. They were hiding something. His instincts told him they knew exactly who he was talking about, but the way they clammed up the second he mentioned "S" told him they were afraid—afraid of being connected to something, or someone, dangerous.

The taller man folded the pamphlet neatly and set it down on the counter, his movements slow, deliberate. “You sure you’re not lost, friend?” he asked, his tone flat, giving nothing away. “This isn’t the kind of place you just wander into looking for people. This ain't the lost and found.”

Xavier felt the tension in the room thicken. It was clear they were stonewalling him, and the last thing they wanted was to get involved in whatever it was he was digging into. Whether it was out of fear of S or something else, they were keeping their mouths shut.

Xavier, sensing the deadlock and knowing he had to break it, leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he played his next card. “Look, I’m not just some guy wandering in off the street,” he said, his tone conspiratorial. “I’ve got something that could be worth your while. High-grade protocores. Rare, illegal, and powerful enough to charge just about anything—if you know what you’re doing.” It was a lie, of course. He had no such thing, but he was banking on the fact that the promise of something so valuable might loosen their lips.

The taller man’s eyes narrowed, his cigar still smoldering between his fingers. He glanced at his stocky companion, who gave a subtle nod, before turning his full attention back to Xavier. “Protocores, huh? Those are worth more than a few pairs of shoes, friend,” the taller man said slowly, his voice laced with skepticism. “Where exactly did you get your hands on something like that?”

Xavier didn’t hesitate. He knew he had to sell the lie convincingly. “Can't say,” he said casually, leaning back slightly, as if it were no big deal. “You don’t get this far in the city without knowing a few people. Let’s just say I have connections.”

Xavier looked at them, not breaking eye contact, praying he looked confident enough to seem truthful.

The two men exchanged another look, this one lingering just a bit longer. The doubt was still there, but now it was mixed with greed. If there was one thing people in places like this couldn’t resist, it was the allure of something rare and illegal—especially if it was valuable.

The stocky man finally broke the silence, his scowl softening slightly as he uncrossed his arms. “Alright, we’ll bite,” he said, his voice less hostile now. “You’ve got these protocores, and you want information. Fair enough. What exactly are you looking to know?”

Xavier kept his expression calm, but inside, he could feel the tension slowly starting to ease. He was getting somewhere. “I’m looking for a man who bought those high-end boots recently,” he said, nodding to the shoes on display. “You said no one like S shops here, but I think you know more than you’re letting on.”

The taller man’s eyes flickered again, and for the first time, Xavier saw the cracks forming in their stone-faced resistance. The man took a long drag on his cigar, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. “Two guys come in here fairly regularly,” he finally admitted, his voice low. “Both of them wear masks. Don't ask names, don't care to. They both bought the same pair of boots you're talking about.”

Xavier’s heart skipped a beat. “Two men?” he repeated, his mind racing. He had been certain that S was the one who took you, but now... two masked men? That changed everything. “You sure it was two?”

The stocky man nodded. “Yeah, two of ‘em. Paid in full, no questions asked. They didn’t stick around long. Didn’t want to be noticed.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “But they were a tad bit annoying. Seemed pretty close, cracking jokes and whatnot. One of them called the other "bigfoot". Got a laugh out of me".

Xavier’s mind spun with this new information. He had always assumed S was acting alone, but this revelation changed everything. If there were two of them, that meant he wasn’t just dealing with a single captor. Were these men working together to take you? And if so, what the hell were they planning?

“Anything else?” Xavier pressed, trying to hide the shock from his voice. “Did they say where they were headed? Anything at all?”

The taller man took another drag on his cigar, the smoke swirling in the dim light. “Didn’t say much. But they left in a hurry. Seemed like they had somewhere to be. Somewhere in the N109 Zone, from what I could gather. They didn’t strike me as the kind of guys who hang around too long.”

Xavier’s mind raced as he processed the information. Two men, both masked, buying the exact boots that matched the footprint seen in your apartment. This was bigger than he thought.

Xavier's pulse quickened as the conversation took an unexpected turn. He had to push this further. Keeping his voice steady, he asked, “Have you also seen a girl? Someone...matching this description?” He gave them a rundown of your features, his tone deliberately casual, though every fiber of his being was on high alert. The taller man's reaction was immediate and telling—his eyes widened ever so slightly.

“A girl?” the taller man echoed, his voice laced with curiosity. His gaze flickered to his companion before returning to Xavier.

Xavier nodded, fighting to keep his expression calm despite the tension building inside him. “Yeah. She would’ve come through here recently. Looks...rough.”

The man tapped his cigar against the ashtray, his brows furrowing in thought. “You know, now that you mention it…” He paused, his gaze sharpening as if recalling something. “I did see my bud, Reese, not too long ago before I came in. He was walking around with a girl that kinda looked like that. Thought it was strange, actually.”

Xavier’s heartbeat thudded in his chest, but he kept his face neutral. “Reese?”

“Yeah,” the taller man said with a smirk, taking another slow drag from his cigar. “She looked like shit, though. Like she’d been through hell. I was gonna ask him what was up, but I didn’t wanna get involved in whatever he’s got going on these days. Reese has been... keeping a low profile lately. Wonder what he’s up to now.”

Xavier’s mind raced and he felt like he just struck gold. Reese. Another name—another lead. The pieces were starting to fall into place, but there were still so many unanswered questions. Reese...was this the man you had mentioned over the phone that was with you? Either way, if this man had seen you with him, Xavier was one step closer to finding you.

His jaw tightened, the weight of urgency settling over him again. “Where can I find Reese?”

The taller man seemed to mull it over for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. Finally, with a sigh, he stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray, the smoke curling lazily into the air as he leaned forward. “You want to know where to find Reese, huh? Well, you can find him over on the east side of the city,” he said, his voice low and casual. “But don’t get your hopes up. He’s never in one place for long. Always on the move. Kinda quiet too, y’know?”

He rattled off a series of directions and a description of a house, pointing out a few places where Reese was known to frequent, though there was no guarantee he’d be there when Xavier arrived. It was a lead, though—a real one. Xavier nodded, his mind already turning over the possibilities.

Just as he was about to thank them and leave, the smaller man, who had been quiet for a while, suddenly piped up. “Alright, enough talking,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Where are these protocores you were bragging about?”

Xavier could feel the tension in the room spike instantly. He had known this moment would come, and he had been prepared for it, but now that they were pressing him, the lie felt razor-thin. He could see the smaller man’s patience wearing thin, and the taller one watching him with quiet intensity.

Xavier's grin didn’t falter as he lied, but he could feel the weight of their growing suspicion thickening the air. “I’ll be back with the protocores,” he said, his voice smooth. “Just need to track down Reese first. After I get what I need, we can make the trade.”

The taller man’s expression darkened, the faint amusement fading from his face. His eyes darted to the smaller man, who had already started to reach for something beneath the counter. Xavier felt his muscles tense, every instinct screaming that things were about to go south.

“Yeah?” the smaller man sneered, his voice sharp. “You think we’re that stupid? You expect us to believe you’re just gonna walk out and come back with illegal protocores for a couple of thugs like us?”

Before Xavier could respond, the smaller man whipped out a gun from behind the counter, followed almost instantly by the taller man drawing his own firearm.

“Don’t think so, pal,” the taller man growled. “You’re not going anywhere without giving us what you promised.”

In that split second, Xavier’s mind went cold and focused, his body moving on pure reflex. He wasn’t going to wait for them to make the first move. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, pulling it free in a smooth motion just as the first shot rang out.

The bullet whizzed past his head, grazing the air where he’d just been standing. Xavier moved like lightning, his blade slicing through the space between him and the men as he spun out of the line of fire. The sword was an extension of his body, deflecting the second shot with a sharp clang as metal met metal.

The store was small, too cramped for a proper firefight, and that was the only advantage he had. He darted between the shelves, using the displays as cover as more bullets flew past him, shattering glass and sending shoes tumbling to the floor. His feet moved quickly, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, pushing him to act faster, think sharper.

“Get him!” the smaller man shouted, his voice thick with rage, but Xavier was already in motion, anticipating their next move.

With a swift slash, Xavier knocked the gun from the smaller man’s hand, sending it skittering across the floor. The taller man fired again, the flash of the muzzle lighting up the store in bursts, but Xavier was quick, his sword a blur as he deflected another shot, closing the distance between them.

There was no time to think—only to act. He couldn’t risk staying any longer. The exit was in sight, and Xavier knew he had to make a break for it.

As Xavier faced down the two armed men, his instincts kicked into overdrive. He wasn’t just fast—he had something else up his sleeve. Something that had saved him more times than he could count.

His Evol.

In the split second after the taller man raised his gun to fire again, Xavier made a decision. He’d have to use it. His fingers tightened on the end of his sword, but deep inside, he reached for the light, feeling the familiar surge of energy that came with it. The taller man aimed, ready to fire, but Xavier didn’t give him the chance.

With a flicker of thought, a blinding flash erupted from Xavier’s body, the entire store flooding with a searing white light. It was like staring into the heart of a star—overwhelming and inescapable.

Both men shouted in surprise, their hands flying to shield their eyes, but it was too late. The light had already done its job. They staggered, momentarily blinded, their arms swinging wildly as they tried to find him in the confusion.

“Wha—what the hell is this?!” the smaller man yelled, his voice frantic as he stumbled backward, clattering to the floor in agony. The taller man cursed under his breath, blinking furiously, but all he could see was the brilliant afterglow burned into his retinas.

Xavier didn’t waste a second. With the men disoriented and helpless, he made his move. His sword glinted in the light as he slashed out, knocking the gun from the taller man’s grip before spinning toward the door. The sound of their shouts barely registered over the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

The door loomed ahead, and with one final burst of speed, Xavier pushed through it, escaping into the night. The cool air hit his face like a slap, the sudden contrast from the heat of the fight inside momentarily grounding him.

Behind him, the men were still shouting, stumbling around blindly, their voices growing fainter as he sprinted down the street. He didn’t look back. The light was already beginning to fade, but it had bought him the time he needed.

Xavier’s feet pounded against the pavement as he ran, the city’s crumbling streets blurring around him. The shouting from inside the store had stopped, but he knew they wouldn’t just let him go that easily. They’d recover, and when they did, they’d be looking for him.

He turned sharply down an alleyway, his breath ragged in his throat, his mind already turning to his next move. Reese was out there—on the east side of town—and now, with the information he had, he was closer than ever to finding you.

Xavier’s feet pounded against the pavement, but with every step, a bone-deep exhaustion gnawed at him. The burst of energy he had unleashed through his Evol had taken its toll—draining what little strength he had left. His body ached, muscles protesting with every movement. He tried to push through it, to keep running, but it was as if his legs were filled with lead. His vision blurred at the edges, his head spinning. The lack of sleep was catching up with him fast.

He stumbled over a crack in the pavement, his feet dragging beneath him as the world around him spun. His breath came in ragged bursts, and the streetlights seemed to blur, their light flickering in and out of focus. A sharp, relentless ache had settled into his bones, and his vision dimmed as a wave of dizziness overtook him.

He fought it, clenching his fists, trying to force himself to keep going. But then a deeper voice inside cut through the haze. You can’t find her if you’re dead on your feet.

His steps slowed, and he blinked hard, fighting the swirling darkness closing in at the edges of his vision. He needed rest—just for a little while. His body wasn’t made for Earth’s atmosphere, not for this endless strain. His Evol had drained what little energy he had left, and he couldn’t keep pushing through it. Not like this.

"Just for a little bit," Xavier muttered to himself, staggering toward a shadowy alleyway. His eyes caught on an old, abandoned house at the far end of the block. The building was crumbling, its windows shattered and the door barely hanging on its hinges, but it offered some semblance of shelter. It was better than nothing.

I can’t find her if I’m exhausted, he reasoned with himself, though guilt already clawed at him. Every second he rested felt like time slipping away—time you didn’t have. But he knew if he kept going like this, he’d be no good to you when he did find you. He’d collapse somewhere on the side of the road, useless and beaten by exhaustion. He couldn’t let that happen.

Xavier staggered toward the house, the world tilting around him as he shoved the door open. The hinges groaned in protest, but he ignored the noise, stumbling inside. Dust swirled through the air, and the floorboards creaked beneath his boots, but he was already beyond caring. The interior was dark, musty, but a worn, sagging couch caught his eye in the dim light.

He dropped onto it without a second thought, his entire body aching with relief as he sank into the old fabric. The sword strapped across his chest rested heavily against him, but even the weight of the weapon couldn’t keep him awake. His limbs felt like lead, and despite the pounding in his mind telling him to get up, to keep moving, sleep pulled at him relentlessly.

His last coherent thought was of you—somewhere out there, waiting for him. Just for a little bit, he told himself again, his eyelids fluttering shut. Then I’ll find you.

Sleep came hard and fast, dragging him down into the deep, dreamless void.

When Xavier finally woke, he bolted upright, his heart hammering in his chest. His mind raced, scrambling to make sense of where he was, his breath coming in short gasps. For a moment, he stared at the cracked walls of the abandoned house, confusion gripping him. Then it hit him—he had fallen asleep. He didn’t know how long he had been out, but his body felt sluggish and stiff, like too much time had passed.

His heart hammered harder in his chest as his hand instinctively reached for his pocket, fumbling for his phone. His fingers trembled as he pulled it out and flipped it open, the cold glow of the screen casting a harsh light on his face.

His eyes locked onto the almost dead battery and then the date.

Three days.

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening as the realization hit him like a gut punch. He blinked, staring at the screen, hoping—praying—that he was reading it wrong. But no. Three full days had passed.

"Three days…" The words felt foreign, like they didn’t belong to him, as if acknowledging them made the situation real. Three days of nothing. Three days of lost time. His stupid body had failed him once again.

He cursed under his breath, his frustration boiling over into something sharper, hotter. How had he let this happen? He had only meant to rest for a few hours—just enough to clear the exhaustion from his system—but his body had betrayed him. Now, three precious days were gone. Three days that you had been out there, alone. Three days that he should have been looking for you.

His grip tightened around the phone as the guilt gnawed at him. I was supposed to protect you, he thought bitterly. I was supposed to be there for you, and I’ve wasted three days doing nothing.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, his jaw clenched tight. There was no time to sit around hating himself for it—he couldn’t afford that. Not anymore. His muscles were stiff from sleep, his joints aching, but he ignored it, pushing through the discomfort as he stood and grabbed his sword. The familiar weight of the weapon on his back grounded him, pulling his mind back into focus.

Reese. East side of town.

He had to find Reese. That was the only lead he had left. The man from the shoe store had given him directions, and even though it felt like a lifetime ago, they replayed in his mind, clear and sharp.

Xavier’s heart raced as he rushed out of the house, the cold night air slapping him awake. His body still ached from the strain of the last few days, but the fear of how much time he had lost was stronger, driving him forward. He couldn’t lose you, not now, not after everything. He couldn’t let three days of inaction be the difference between finding you and losing you forever.

With renewed urgency, Xavier broke into a sprint, following the path the man had given him toward the east side of town. His mind was clear now, the haze of exhaustion burned away by the crushing weight of time. Two days had passed, but he wasn’t going to waste another second.

Xavier’s legs felt like they had been running for hours, but he finally saw it. The house. It was run-down, like everything else in this part of town—its windows cracked, the walls stained with time and neglect. But his gut screamed that this was the place. Something about it pulled him forward, despite the fear gnawing at the back of his mind. He had come too far to stop now.

With anticipation and shaky breaths, Xavier gripped his sword tighter, steeling himself. He approached the front door cautiously, every instinct on high alert. This is it. She has to be here. You had said Reese was taking you to this place, and now here it was, right in front of him.

He rushed in, his sword drawn and ready to fight, his breath catching in his throat. His heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline surging through him as he scanned the interior. But as his eyes darted around the room, confusion began to set in. The house was... empty.

Xavier stood frozen for a moment, his chest tightening with disbelief. No, this can’t be right. He moved deeper into the house, his footsteps echoing off the rotting wood. The place looked abandoned—empty, save for a few bags scattered around the floor. He kicked one lightly, its contents spilling out—a white, powdery substance that made Xavier’s stomach churn.

Reese had a problem, that much was clear. But where was he? And more importantly, where were you?

Xavier’s mind raced as he searched the house, pushing open doors and turning over furniture, trying to make sense of the chaos. Panic clawed at him as the rooms yielded nothing but more bags and filth. You were supposed to be here. You had said Reese was taking you to his place. But now, it felt like you had disappeared into thin air.

He cursed under his breath, his pulse quickening as his frustration built. That was when he noticed it—off to the side, barely visible in the dim light of the house. A metal hatch in the floor, wide open, its rusted hinges silently beckoning him down.

Xavier froze for a second, his instincts screaming that this wasn’t going to be good. He gripped his sword tighter, the cold steel grounding him as he stepped toward the hatch. No sound came from below—just a heavy, oppressive silence. He steeled himself and descended, each creak of the stairs adding to the weight pressing on his chest.

As his boots hit the basement floor, the smell hit him first. The sharp, metallic scent of blood filled the air, thick and suffocating. The dim light barely illuminated the scene before him, but as his eyes adjusted, Xavier’s stomach lurched. There, lying in the center of the floor, was a mangled body, a gunshot wound to the head, its face twisted in a frozen mask of fear and pain. Dried blood and brain matter splattered the walls around him—too much to belong to just one person.

Xavier’s heart raced, a wave of nausea crashing over him. For a moment, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. Was this you? The thought seized his chest in a vice grip, panic surging through his veins. He took a step forward, the dim light playing tricks on his eyes as he squinted, trying to make out the body on the floor. The tattered clothes, the lifeless form—it could be you. No, no, no...

His breath came in shallow gasps as he moved closer, the sword still held tightly in his hand as if ready to defend himself from whatever horror he might find. His eyes darted over the body, searching for any sign—any clue that would tell him it wasn’t you.

Then, finally, in the dim light, he saw it. The face. It wasn’t yours. Relief crashed over him in a wave so powerful it nearly knocked him off his feet. The body was that of a man, not a woman. His hair was matted with blood, his eyes wide in a permanent expression of terror.

Reese.

Xavier’s breath hitched. It had to be him. The man who had taken you. The man he was supposed to find. But now, Reese lay dead on the floor, his life ended by a brutal, cold execution. Xavier’s mind reeled, trying to make sense of it all. What had happened here? Who had done this?

He stepped back, his mind racing. If Reese is dead... where are you?

Xavier’s breath was shallow, his pulse pounding in his ears as he forced himself to keep moving. He stepped closer to the streaks of dried blood on the wall, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something horrifying beneath the splattered crimson. A pile of bones—broken, jagged—and organs lay in a twisted heap on the floor, half-hidden by the blood. His stomach churned, his mind racing.

This had been another person.

The gruesome scene was too much to process at once. Xavier’s hands began to tremble, his sword shaking in his grip as the terrible possibility hit him—was this you? He felt his chest tighten, his breath coming in quick, panicked bursts. His legs threatened to give out beneath him, the weight of the realization crushing his resolve.

His mind swirled in a storm of fear and doubt. He had come all this way, fought through exhaustion and danger to find you, and now he might be too late. He tried to steady himself, but the thought of what this pile of bones and flesh might mean twisted inside him like a blade.

A violent shiver ran through him. His resolve, the fierce determination that had kept him going, began to crack. He stared at the remains, his thoughts spiraling, his heart hammering in his chest. What if I was too late?

Then, breaking through the suffocating silence, a voice cut through the air behind him.

"Who are you?"

Xavier froze, his body instinctively tensing at the sound of the voice. The click of a gun followed, unmistakable and close. His blood ran cold, and he turned his head just enough to see her—a woman, standing in the doorway of the basement. She was dressed in casual business attire, her dark hair hanging around her face in sharp contrast to the blank, emotionless stare she wore. The gun in her hand was aimed squarely at him, her finger hovering over the trigger with terrifying calm.

His mind raced. He couldn’t let himself hesitate.

Before she could react, Xavier moved. With a burst of speed fueled by raw instinct, he spun around and drew his sword, faster than a blink of an eye. The blade flashed in the dim light, and before the woman could so much as blink, the gun flew from her hand, clattering to the ground.

In a breathless second, Xavier had her pinned against the wall, his sword’s razor-sharp tip pressed against her neck. His eyes, once filled with fear, were now burning with intensity. The blade hovered just millimeters from her throat, the cold steel biting against her skin.

“Who am I?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s not the question you should be asking.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change. She didn’t flinch, didn’t panic. She just stared back at him with the same unnerving calm, her dark eyes boring into his. For a moment, the two of them stood frozen in a tense standoff, the blade at her throat the only thing keeping her from making another move.

Xavier’s heart hammered in his chest, adrenaline still flooding his system. He had questions, too—too many to count—but first, he needed answers.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp, his grip on the sword steady. “Where is the girl?”

The woman’s gaze didn’t waver. “The girl?” she repeated, her voice eerily even. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Her lips barely moved as she spoke, but there was something cold in her tone—something that sent a chill down Xavier’s spine.

He pressed the sword closer, the tip digging into her skin just enough to make his point clear. “Don’t play games with me,” he snarled, his patience fraying. “I know she was with Reese. Where is she?”

The woman’s eyes flickered, but her expression remained unreadable. “Reese is clearly dead,” she said calmly, glancing at the mangled body behind Xavier. “And if you don’t let me go, you will be too.”

Xavier’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, his mind racing. The pile of bones and blood on the floor was searing in his memory, and the chilling possibility that you might have been one of Reese’s victims still hung over him like a dark cloud. But this woman—she was too calm. Too controlled. And she knew something.

“Start talking,” he growled, his blade still steady. “Or I make sure you never leave this basement.”

The woman’s cold laughter echoed through the basement, sending a shiver down Xavier’s spine. There was something deeply unsettling about the way she stared at him—no fear, no hesitation, just cold, calculating amusement.

“It’s a shame… she turned out to be a match too,” she said, her voice laced with icy detachment.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed, confusion and fury battling in his chest. A match? What the hell did she mean by that? His grip on the sword tightened, the blade hovering just inches from her throat. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice taut with barely restrained anger.

But the woman just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Her lips twisted into a faint smirk, the silence hanging between them like a lead weight.

Xavier’s patience snapped.

Without warning, he twisted her to the ground, slamming her onto the cold, dirty floor. She gasped as the air rushed from her lungs, her body momentarily stunned. He planted his foot firmly on her back, pressing her down with just enough force to keep her pinned, the tip of his sword now poised against the back of her head. It was a position he never imagined he'd put anyone in, especially a woman, but this was no time for hesitation. Not with your life on the line.

The woman’s breath was ragged, but her laughter returned, cold and mocking. “You know…” she began, her voice strained but still dripping with amusement. “There’s only one person who could have done this.”

Her words hung in the air, sending a fresh wave of dread through Xavier. His pulse quickened as he leaned in closer, his heart thundering in his chest. "What are you talking about?" he growled. “Who did this?”

The woman let out another chilling laugh, her shoulders shaking under his boot. “Don’t you wanna know his name?” she teased, her voice dangerously soft. “I’ll tell ya… if you let me up.”

Xavier’s eyes flashed with fury, his foot pressing harder against her back, his sword trembling slightly with the intensity of his grip. He was on the edge, his mind racing with the implications of her words. He had never been one to harm someone without reason, and the idea of taking this any further made his stomach twist. But he needed answers, and this woman was toying with him, dangling the information in front of him like a lure.

He hesitated for a moment, his conscience warring with the urgency of the situation. This could be his only shot at getting the truth. He needed to know who was behind this—who had taken you, who had turned Reese’s basement into a slaughterhouse. And if she had the answer…

“Talk,” he growled, the point of his sword pressing into the back of her neck. “Or I swear you won’t get another chance.”

The woman’s laughter stopped abruptly, the silence thick and unsettling. She let out a slow, deliberate breath, as if considering her next words carefully.

"Alright," she whispered. "But you'll regret it when you know."

Xavier, despite every fiber of his being screaming against it, slowly removed his foot from the woman’s back, allowing her to get up. His sword remained poised, ready, as he took a cautious step back. She pushed herself up, her breath ragged, her once composed appearance now disheveled—her hair wild and her expression no longer quite as cold. But she still wore that smug look, as if everything was unfolding just the way she wanted.

She dusted herself off and motioned toward the floor, where a few black feathers lay scattered among the blood and debris. Xavier's eyes narrowed in confusion, but he moved toward them, curiosity driving him. Kneeling down, he picked up one of the feathers, twirling it between his fingers. The texture was unnervingly soft against the backdrop of violence and death surrounding them. He stared at it, his mind spinning as he tried to piece together the meaning behind it.

The woman’s voice cut through the silence, pulling his attention back to her. "I’m sure you’ve heard of him," she said, a dark smile creeping across her face. "There’s not a single soul in the N109 Zone that doesn’t fear him."

No. It cant be?

Xavier’s grip tightened on the feather, his body tensing. He could sense where this was heading, but he didn’t want to hear it. Not yet.

"It’s a shame," she continued, her voice dripping with false sympathy, "Reese just happened to pick up his woman I guess."

Xavier’s blood boiled at her words. His woman? The idea of you being claimed by anyone, let alone someone like the monster she was referring to, made his vision blur with rage. His teeth clenched as he fought to keep his composure, the tip of his sword glinting as he took a step toward her, eyes blazing.

“Talk,” he growled, barely containing the fury in his voice. “And spit out his name. Now.”

The woman’s smile widened, pleased to have drawn out such a reaction. She took a slow breath, savoring the tension between them before she spoke again.

"Sylus," she finally said, her voice soft but heavy with meaning. “Y'know...leader of Onychinus? Supposed ruler of this godforsaken place."

Xavier’s heart sank, his mind whirling with the name. Sylus. The moment she said it, everything clicked into place, the puzzle pieces falling together in his mind. It was a name that echoed across every shadowy corner of the city, whispered in fear by those who lived in the Zone and outside of it. Sylus was not just a criminal; he was a tyrant, a leader of a notorious syndicate that controlled much of the N109 Zone through fear, violence, and manipulation.

He remembered the briefings from work, detailing illegal protocore trafficking, unsolved murders, and corruption on a scale most people couldn’t even fathom. Sylus’s name had come up more than once, but he had always remained just out of reach—never enough evidence to bring him down, always too elusive for law enforcement to catch. And now...S. It had been in front of him all along.

Sylus.

Of course. The man who had taken you, the man who had orchestrated this entire nightmare, was none other than the most dangerous figure in the N109 Zone. But what did someone like him want with you?

Xavier’s breath came in short, sharp bursts as his mind raced. His sword shook slightly in his grip, the feather in his hand slipping to the ground as the weight of the realization hit him. Sylus had you. The leader of Onychinus, a man feared by all, had somehow claimed you, and now, everything made sense. The secrecy, the power, the violence—all of it pointed back to him.

The woman watched him carefully, a knowing glint in her eye as she saw the shift in his expression. "You see now, don’t you?" she murmured. "Reese didn’t stand a chance. Neither did she." Her voice took on a mocking tone as she spoke of you, as if your fate was already sealed.

Xavier’s anger flared. He had to find you—now. There was no more time for games or hesitation. Sylus had to be stopped, and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way. Not anymore.

Xavier's grip on the sword tightened as he glared down at the woman. He wasn’t going to leave any loose ends this time. "You’re coming with me," he said, voice hard and unyielding. "You’re being booked in Linkon City Penitentiary. You're clearly not innocent in all this."

The woman’s expression didn’t change, but there was a subtle shift in her eyes—a flicker of something cold and calculating. She nodded slowly, seeming to comply, raising her hands slightly as if in surrender. Xavier lowered his sword, but kept it ready. He wasn’t taking any chances.

But before he could react, she reached up as though to fix her disheveled hair and, in one smooth motion, pulled a small pin from the messy strands. Her eyes flashed with intent as she flicked the pin to the floor.

It exploded in a quick burst of hissing gas.

Xavier barely had time to react before the room filled with a thick, stinging cloud. His throat seized, the acrid taste of the gas flooding his lungs as he coughed violently. His eyes burned, watering immediately as the toxic smoke enveloped him, blinding him completely. He tried to swing his sword, but his body betrayed him, each breath tearing through his chest like fire.

"Dammit..." Xavier choked, squeezing his eyes shut against the pervasive sting. The sound of hurried footsteps filled the room as the woman scrambled up the stairs in a desperate attempt to escape. He heard the hatch slam above him, the faint echoes of her retreating footsteps quickly disappearing into the night.

For a moment, Xavier stood hunched over, gasping for air, clutching his throat as he struggled to breathe. His muscles tensed, his mind reeling in frustration. I should chase her. I can’t let her get away.

But as the gas slowly began to dissipate, something in the corner of the basement caught his attention. Through the blurry haze of his vision, a small red light blinked steadily—tiny but unmistakable.

A camera.

Xavier froze, his mind racing as he staggered toward it, wiping his eyes to get a clearer look. The camera was mounted discreetly in the far corner of the room, aimed directly at the center of the basement floor—right where the mangled body of Reese lay. Its lens was still pointed at the grisly scene, and the red dot blinked steadily, as though it had been recording everything.

Xavier’s heart pounded as the implications hit him. Someone had been watching. Or at least recording. Someone had seen everything that had gone down in this basement—maybe even Sylus himself.

His first instinct was to smash it, to destroy the evidence, but another thought stopped him. This could be a lead. This might show me where they took her, or at the very least, give me more information about Sylus.

Xavier cursed under his breath, torn between the urge to chase the woman and the importance of the discovery before him. The camera could be the key to tracking down Sylus, but every second the woman stayed free, she became a greater threat. He weighed his options, his mind spinning with indecision.

But deep down, he knew the answer. He needed to know what was on that camera—no matter the cost. He wasn’t going to let this slip through his fingers.

Swallowing the bitter taste of frustration, Xavier moved toward the camera, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for it. He was going to find out what it had seen, and he was going to use it to track down Sylus and, more importantly, you.

Xavier’s fingers worked quickly, his heart pounding as he pried the small camera from its mount. His breath was still shallow from the lingering effects of the gas, but his focus was razor-sharp now. This camera—it had seen everything. It had captured the truth, maybe even the moment Reese had been killed, and possibly more.

He carefully ejected the tiny SIM card from the device, holding it in the palm of his hand. The small piece of plastic and metal was unassuming, almost fragile. But Xavier knew, in that moment, this was the key. This little card held answers—answers he had been chasing for days, through exhaustion, violence, and fear.

His hand closed around it, gripping it tightly, as if holding onto it was the only thing keeping him grounded. This was his way forward. The evidence, the proof—everything that could lead him to you and get you away from Sylus before he did something unthinkable to you.

"This…" he whispered, his voice low, filled with desperation. "This is it."

The weight of the situation pressed down on him, his mind spinning with possibilities. Maybe this small window of opportunity was all Xavier needed? Was this the answer?

His pulse quickened as the gravity of the moment sank in. He couldn’t waste any more time.

Clutching the SIM card, Xavier shoved it into his jacket pocket, securing it tightly. He glanced around the basement one last time, the gruesome scene of Reese’s body still etched into his mind, but the camera—the blinking red dot—was all he could focus on. Whoever had set this up knew more than they let on, and now he was one step closer to pulling it all apart.

He turned toward the stairs, every step a mixture of relief and dread. He had a lead, but he was running out of time. Sylus was out there, and so were you, caught in his web. Xavier’s mind was racing as he ascended the stairs and stepped out into the cold night air.

This SIM card, small and fragile as it was, was his best chance of finding you. He wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers.

The sound of water echoed softly in the small, dimly lit bathroom as you stood under the spray, the warmth of it doing little to ease the cold that had settled deep within you. You stared down at the tiled floor, watching the water pool around your feet, washing away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Crying in the shower had become routine these past few days. The chain around your ankle clinked softly with every movement, its weight a constant reminder of the new reality you were trapped in.

Your fingers trembled as they moved through your wet hair, but you weren’t really here—not in this moment, not in this place. You were somewhere far away, in a life that felt impossibly distant now. A life where you were free, where you hadn’t been taken by Sylus, where your every step wasn’t shadowed by the cold bite of metal shackles.

You glanced down at the chain, watching as the water dripped from it, snaking down your leg in streams. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, the reality of your situation hit you over and over again. There was no escaping this. Sylus had made sure of that. He had bound you, not just physically, but mentally, emotionally—leaving no room for hope.

A shiver ran through you, though the water was still warm. You hugged your arms around yourself, trying to take some comfort in the heat, but all you could feel was the weight of the chain. It clinked with every shift of your body, its length enough to reach the shower, the toilet, the bed—everything within your small prison. Your world has shrunk to this, you thought bitterly, tracing the line of the chain with your eyes.

You had once thought of yourself as strong, capable. But now, standing here in this tiny, confining space, tethered to the will of a man who saw you as his lover, you felt anything but strong. Your mind wandered back to his words, the promise he had whispered in your ear before nestling next to you:

“Accept your place by my side, and have my baby.”

A sob choked your throat as the words echoed in your mind. The idea of being bound to him not just by the chain, but by a child—a piece of him inside you—made you feel like you were drowning. The water ran over your body, but it couldn’t wash away the fear or the disgust that festered inside of you. You had once given yourself to him willingly, drawn in by the promise of comfort, lust, the flowery words he spun so effortlessly. But now, you were reminded you were his prisoner.

You hated him. You hated yourself. The shame was like a living thing inside of you, coiling tighter with every second, every memory of the choices that had led you here. How had you fallen so far? How had you let yourself seek comfort from him, even for a moment?

But now, even as you stood here, shackled and trapped, there was something else—something you couldn’t shake. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there. A dark, twisted longing. A part of you, deep down, that still ached for something. Maybe it was safety, or maybe it was the comfort you had once felt in his presence just for awhile, before you were reminded who he really was. Whatever it was, it disgusted you, and you shoved it down again, refusing to acknowledge it. You couldn’t afford to.

The chain clinked again as you turned the water off, the sound grating in the quiet. You stepped out of the shower, your legs unsteady as you moved. The air felt colder now, biting at your wet skin as you wrapped a towel around yourself. The chain dragged along behind you as you moved to the mirror, fogged and hazy, much like your own mind. You wiped a small section clear with your hand and stared at your reflection.

The person staring back at you looked hollow, broken. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, your cheeks tear stained, your lips trembling as you tried to keep yourself together. You didn’t recognize this version of yourself—this fragile, scared girl bound by chains and trapped by the whims of a monster.

Your fingers brushed the cold metal around your ankle again, and you swallowed hard. You had to keep going, somehow. Even if escape felt impossible, even if every part of you screamed to give up, you couldn’t. Not yet. Not while there was still a flicker of hope, buried deep beneath the fear and despair.

You dressed slowly, your hands moving mechanically as you slipped on the dress Sylus had left for you. Sylus had specifically avoided giving you underwear, as it made it easier to touch you as he put it. The feel of fabric felt like a weight, dragging you down further into this nightmare, but you couldn’t stall forever. The chain around your ankle reminded you of that. Every movement was a struggle, a tug of war between your mind and body. You didn’t want to face him. Not again.

But eventually, there was no more time to waste. The tension in your chest tightened as you stepped out of the bathroom, the clinking of the chain the only sound in the quiet room.

Sylus was waiting for you, sitting casually in a chair near the window, a pair of sleek glasses perched on his nose as he scanned something on the tablet in his hands. He looked up when you entered, his eyes immediately locking onto you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. That same, infuriatingly confident smirk that sent a surge of loathing through you.

He lowered the tablet slightly, tilting his head as he took you in. “There you are,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You look beautiful, kitten.”

The compliment felt like a slap in the face, but you didn’t respond. You refused to. You clenched your jaw and stared straight ahead, keeping your distance, trying to make yourself feel as far away from him as possible despite the small confines of the room.

The silent treatment was all you had left, your last shred of defiance. You knew it probably wouldn’t faze him, but you couldn’t bear to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not after everything.

Sylus chuckled softly, clearly unfazed. In fact, your silence only seemed to amuse him. His smirk widened, his dark eyes gleaming with a playful, dangerous edge as he set the tablet down on the table beside him. He leaned back in the chair, his gaze never leaving yours, as though he was watching a game unfold exactly the way he wanted.

“Sweetie,” he purred, his voice low and teasing. “Have you decided to be mute today?” His eyes sparkled with that familiar arrogance, like he was enjoying every moment of your discomfort.

"Don't pretend you didn't hear me."

When you still didn't respond, he motioned to his lap, a casual flick of his fingers. “Come sit. Let’s not play this game all day.”

You stiffened, your heart pounding as you kept your eyes fixed on the floor. The thought of sitting on his lap, of being that close to him, made your stomach churn. But when had he ever cared about what you wanted? He was toying with you, seeing how long you would resist before you finally broke.

With your heart pounding in your chest and every muscle in your body screaming in protest, you moved slowly toward him. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the weight of the chain around your ankle had spread to every fiber of your being. You hated this. You hated him. But you also knew resisting further would only prolong the inevitable. The game he was playing wasn’t one you could win, not today.

As you approached, Sylus’s smirk deepened, his eyes lighting up with that infuriating confidence. He leaned back slightly, arms resting casually on the armrests of his chair, as though inviting you into his space with nothing more than the subtle tilt of his body.

Reluctantly, you lowered yourself onto his lap, your body stiff and unwilling, every part of you recoiling even as you complied. The moment you settled, his arms came around you, enveloping you with a possessive ease, as though this was where you belonged. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, a stark contrast to the cold reality of the chain that still bound you. You tried to sit as far from his groin as possible, but his grip tightened, pulling you closer, forcing you into his embrace.

Sylus’s smirk deepened, sensing your hesitation. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “What’s the matter? You’re usually so talkative,” he teased, his fingers brushing against his jaw as he watched you intently. “Or is this your new way of getting my attention? Hmm?”

He was baiting you, and you knew it. Every word out of his mouth was designed to make you react, to break through the wall of silence you were so desperately trying to maintain. He thrived on your defiance, and the more you pulled away, the more determined he became.

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as you fought back the urge to lash out. Stay silent, you told yourself. Don’t give him what he wants.

But the room felt smaller with every second, the tension between you building with no escape. You kept your eyes fixed on a point across the room, refusing to look at him, to acknowledge the smugness in his gaze. But as much as you tried to focus on anything other than him, you couldn’t ignore the scent that clung to him. It was subtle, warm, and undeniably intoxicating—a mix of something clean and rich, like cedar and spice. It filled your senses, making your head swim for a moment before you forced yourself to snap back to reality.

“Let’s see…” he murmured, pretending to ponder, as if this were some casual decision for him to make. His fingers traced the nape of your neck, their touch light but chilling, sending jolts of dread through you. His hand moved with a practiced, deliberate care, as though every inch of your body was territory he owned.

"Which one of these spots," he whispered, his voice taking on a dark, playful edge, "will make this kitten mewl?"

Your breath hitched, every nerve in your body on high alert, and yet you willed yourself to stay silent, to remain still despite the overwhelming sensation of his touch. The way he said it—kitten—the pet name twisted into something playful, like he was subtly teasing a stubborn cat.

Sylus's lips brushed against your neck, soft and deliberate, sending another shiver through you that you couldn’t quite suppress. You hated the way your body reacted, even though it wasn’t out of desire, but out of an instinctive fear that coursed through your veins. His mouth lingered, warm and maddeningly slow, as if savoring the moment. You could feel his smirk growing with each kiss, knowing he was testing you, pushing to see where your defenses would crumble.

He trailed his lips down the curve of your neck, pressing soft kisses into your skin, searching. His breath was hot against your flesh, each exhale making your heart race, and your hands clenched tighter in your lap, nails digging deep into your palms. Sylus moved with such infuriating patience, his kisses slow and calculated, as though he were mapping out your every vulnerability.

“Here?,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. His lips hovered at the hollow of your throat, sending a jolt of fear through you. "Or maybe here?"

You fought to hold back the instinctive shudder that threatened to betray you, forcing yourself to stay still, to remain silent. But Sylus was relentless, his lips finding the most delicate parts of your neck, his hands lightly brushing your back as he pulled you closer into his embrace. The warmth of him was suffocating, his scent overwhelming your senses as you tried desperately to keep your thoughts from spiraling.

He pressed a kiss in the nape of your neck, lingering for a moment as though testing the spot. You shiver, letting out a small whine at the ticklish sensation as it scattered through your body, your stomach tightening. You could feel his satisfaction in the way he shifted, his lips curving slightly against your skin. His fingers brushed through your hair, his touch deceptively gentle as he whispered, “There it is.”

You try and get out of his lap but his hold on you is firm and tight, per usual. Heat crosses your face and you feel as though the room just got ten degrees hotter.

"Don't be shy, purr for me" he commands gently, beginning to press more gentle kisses in the same sensitive spot. You tense and whine with each kiss, jolts of pleasure tingling through your body, and eventually your core heats up, a wave of shame crashing over you.

His lips trailed lower, teeth grazing your shoulder blade as he continued his sensual assault. Each nip and lick sent sparks of electricity coursing through your veins, pooling heat low in your belly. You squirmed in his lap, torn between the urge to flee from the overwhelming sensations and the traitorous desire to arch into his touch.

"Please…" you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for anymore. Mercy or more, you couldn't tell. Your mind was hazy, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Please what, kitten?" His hand slid under your shirt, fingertips skimming the curve of your breast before dipping lower, teasing along the waistband of your pants. You shuddered, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste flooded your mouth but you barely noticed, too focused on the ache building between your thighs. You felt the sudden hardening of his groin, causing you to gasp.

"Stop," you gasped out, twisting in his grip. "Please, I can't take anymore." Your voice was ragged, barely above a whisper. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, born of overwhelming sensation and a confusing mix of fear and longing. You were scared. Scared to let him in again. To let lust control you and lose yourself to him.

"I'll talk to you Sylus, just stop..." you whine.

For a moment, he didn't move, his hands still roaming your body with maddening slowness, likely deciding if he was going to concede. Then, with a soft chuckle, he released you and leaned back. "Very well," he murmured, his tone unreadable.

"We'll continue this another time."

You scrambled off his lap, nearly tripping in your desperate attempt to put distance between yourself and the man whose touch felt like poison. Your legs trembled beneath you, weak from the fear and the unbearable tension that had filled the room. One hand flew to your neck, instinctively covering the places his lips had touched, while the other pressed to your flushed cheek. Your breath came in shallow bursts as you backed away, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

You knew what you’d see if you did. Amusement—at your weakness, at how easily he could unravel you with nothing more than a few soft kisses. Or maybe frustration that you had interrupted his game by pulling away. And worse yet, a possibility you couldn’t even stomach: genuine affection, a twisted form of care that he believed he had for you.

But when you finally glanced at him, all you saw was a small, knowing smile.

Sylus sat there, relaxed, his fingers tapping lightly on his tablet as he readjusted his glasses. It was as if the entire exchange had been nothing but a passing moment of amusement for him, something routine to him.

Just like that, the little game was over.

He had won.

But the worst part wasn’t his victory. It was the way your body still trembled, the way your skin still burned from where his lips had been. The way you felt so utterly powerless against him.

You turned your back to him, heart heavy with shame, knowing that no matter how much distance you put between you, Sylus had already made his point. He controlled the game. And as much as you hated it, as much as it made your chest tighten in anger and despair—you couldn’t deny that this time, he had broken through your defenses.

He always did.

You stood there, shaking with a volatile mix of anger and shame, your back to Sylus as you tried to steady your breathing. The feeling of his touch still clung to your skin, like a sickening residue that wouldn’t wash away. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms, as if the physical pain might be enough to distract from the storm raging inside of you.

Just as your thoughts began to spiral, the sharp sound of a knock echoed through the room. You flinched, startled, your heart pounding in your chest. Sylus didn’t react to you, didn’t even look your way. He simply set his tablet down, a small sigh escaping his lips as if the knock had interrupted something far less important than whatever little game he had been playing with you moments before.

He stood up and crossed the room with an easy, unbothered grace, leaving you feeling like a ghost in the background, insignificant in his world. When he reached the door, he opened it just a crack, his tall frame blocking your view of whoever was on the other side.

“Luke,” Sylus greeted, his voice carrying a tone of mild interest. “What is it?”

Luke’s voice, muffled by the door but unmistakably familiar, spoke up. "Kovi's asking to "play cards" again. "Says he misses his dear friend. Told me to let you know"

You saw Sylus tilt his head slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. A small chuckle escaped him as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. "Ah, Kovi," he mused, a faint smirk pulling at his lips. "Always eager to strike a deal, I see"

Your heart sank at the casual nature of their conversation. It was like the cruel game Sylus had just played with you didn’t even matter, as though it were just another fleeting moment in his day. You felt a sharp pang in your chest, anger bubbling up again at how easily he could move on while you were left reeling.

“Tell Kovi I'll join him shortly,” Sylus said, still grinning. “I could use a game or two”.

"You got it, boss man!"

With that, Luke disappeared down the hall, and Sylus closed the door, his expression shifting back to its usual controlled calm. He turned toward you, that same smugness still lingering in his eyes as though nothing had changed.

As Sylus crossed the room, your heart lurched with unease. His entire demeanor had been so casual, so indifferent just moments before as he spoke with Luke about Kovi. You’d almost convinced yourself he was done with his game, ready to move on to the next part of his twisted day. But now, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you freeze.

He stopped right in front of you, his gaze lingering for a moment, dark and unreadable. Before you could process what was happening, his hands gently cupped your face, pulling you toward him. His lips pressed against yours, soft at first, but then with a passion that made your heart pound in confusion.

This wasn’t like the teasing, mocking kisses from earlier. This kiss had weight, as if he were pouring something unspoken into it—something deeper, something more dangerous. The way he kissed you wasn’t calculated, wasn’t part of the game he always played. It felt… real.

Your mind raced, unable to comprehend the shift in him. Moments ago, he had been cool, detached, amused by your silence and defiance. But now, his lips moved against yours with an urgency, a need that you didn’t understand. It was like this was the last time he would ever see you—like this kiss was a goodbye, even though you knew you were still trapped in his world.

You didn’t kiss him back, but you also didn’t pull away. You were frozen in place, your body betraying your instincts as the conflicting emotions tangled inside you. Fear. Anger. And now, confusion.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes remained locked on yours, a lingering intensity in them that unsettled you even more. His thumb brushed softly across your cheek, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like there was something else there—something almost vulnerable. But it was gone before you could grasp it.

"You've got more power than you think, kitten" he murmured, his voice softer than usual, almost affectionate. But there was an edge to it, something unreadable lurking just beneath the surface. “Don’t forget that.”

You blinked, unsure of how to respond. His words hung heavy in the air, making your pulse quicken with a mixture of fear and confusion. You couldn’t tell if he was complimenting you, warning you, or trying to manipulate you further. The shift in his demeanor left you off balance, unsure of what game he was playing this time.

Power? The word seemed like a cruel joke given how powerless you felt in this moment—shackled to the chain, trapped under his control, constantly fighting to keep your head above water while he pulled the strings. Yet, there was a strange certainty in the way he said it, as though he believed it more than you ever could. As though he knew something you didn’t.

Your breath hitched, the weight of his gaze almost unbearable. His hand lingered for a second longer on your cheek, and despite the fear that still gripped you, you couldn’t help but feel the tension, the push and pull between his control and whatever it was he saw in you.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, not in that moment. Not with the confusion clouding your thoughts, your emotions already tangled in knots from everything that had happened. You searched his face, hoping to find some clarity, but all you saw was that same unreadable expression, his eyes watching you closely, waiting.

And then, as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. Sylus let his hand drop, his smirk returning, the walls coming back up around him.

"Behave," he added with a grin, before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you standing there, shaken and confused.

His words lingered long after he was gone, leaving you to wonder—what had he meant?

You spent the hours after Sylus left in a haze of frustration and boredom, your mind spiraling as you tried to find something—anything—to distract yourself. The chain around your ankle clinked softly with every movement, a constant reminder of your confinement. There wasn’t much to do, and the walls of the room felt like they were closing in, making the silence unbearable.

You found yourself counting the links of the chain, running your fingers over the cold metal again and again, trying to memorize the texture, the length. Rolling around on the hard floor, feeling the chill seep into your skin, you tried to stave off the madness creeping into your thoughts. The same four walls, the same chain, the same agonizing routine.

A knock on the door broke the monotony, pulling you from your thoughts.

Sylus?? Wait no. He wouldn't knock on his own door.

The chef—another of Sylus’s loyal employees—slid your dinner through the small opening in the door, the one Sylus had installed specifically for you. No more shared meals in the living room, no more pretending you were anything but his prisoner. Now, even meals came through a slit in the door, like you were a caged animal.

You stared at the plate, untouched for longer than you’d care to admit. Eventually, you ate without tasting, simply going through the motions. The room felt colder than usual, the silence more oppressive.

After what felt like an eternity, your body finally gave in to exhaustion. You curled up on the bed, feeling the weight of your situation pressing down on you like a physical burden. Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it was fitful, filled with shadows and the echo of Sylus’s words: “You’ve got more power than you think.”

You woke to the sound of the door unlocking.

Your body stirred slowly, still groggy from sleep, and for a moment, you weren’t sure where you were. But the clink of the chain brought you back to reality in an instant. You opened your eyes slightly, blinking as the dim light of the room settled into your vision, and there he was—Sylus.

He stepped inside, the door closing softly behind him. He was loosening his tie, the fabric slipping through his fingers in an almost absentminded way. His usually sharp and controlled appearance seemed…off. His movements weren’t as fluid, his steps a little less precise. He tilted his head slightly, catching himself on the back of a chair with a small, humorless chuckle.

You froze, watching him closely. Something was different. He didn’t have the same air of calm authority he usually wore like armor. His hair was slightly mussed, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. You studied him for a moment, heart pounding as the realization hit you.

Is he drunk?

Sylus turned his head toward you, a slow, almost lazy grin creeping across his face. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, were glazed over, a softness in them that you’d never seen before.

“Kitten,” he murmured, his voice lower, rougher than usual. “Are you awake?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced your body to remain still, your breathing steady as if you were still deep in sleep. You couldn’t face him right now, not like this—not when he was drunk and unpredictable. Your eyes shut closed, and you tried to control the rising panic swelling inside you.

A soft chuckle escaped him, dripping with amusement, and you felt his presence closer, the faint warmth of his body invading the space around you. "You can’t fool me," he murmured, his breath ghosting against your skin. "I know what your breathing sounds like when you're sleeping sweetie."

The words sank into your mind like a sharp, twisting knife. He wasn’t wrong—Sylus had studied you, watched you so carefully that even something as intimate as your breathing while you slept wasn’t your own anymore. Your attempt at pretending was futile, and now, he was reveling in the fact that you couldn’t hide from him, not even for a moment.

You could feel his smirk without having to look. His fingers trailed lazily down your arm, drawing soft patterns on your skin, the touch deceptively gentle yet loaded with the dark weight of his control.

“I’ve spent so much time with you,” he continued, his tone almost affectionate, unnervingly gentle. “I know every little thing about you—every sigh, every breath, every flutter of those pretty little eyelids.”

Your breath hitched despite your best efforts to stay calm, and you cursed yourself for it. The small tremor in your body, the way your pulse quickened—he noticed it all. You could feel his satisfaction radiating from him, the knowledge of every part of you obvious.

Sylus leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dripping with dark affection. "I can’t stop thinking about you," he murmured. "Even when I’m surrounded by people, all I want is you, kitten. You’ve been on my mind all night. You're gonna get me killed being such a pretty distraction."

The knot in your chest tightened as you lay there, your body rigid beneath his touch. You wanted to push him away, to scream, to do anything that would break this hold he had over you. But even in his drunken state, he held all the power, and he knew it.

“Look at me sweetie,” Sylus murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “Let me see you."

His fingers moved to your hair, brushing it aside as his breath warmed the side of your face. You swallowed hard, knowing you had no choice but to acknowledge him now. Slowly, reluctantly, you opened your eyes, the room spinning slightly as his face came into view—so close, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement and...affection?"

“There she is,” he whispered, his voice laced with satisfaction. “My pretty little hunter."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as his words sank into you, wrapping around your chest like a vice. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, gleaming with an unsettling mix of affection and control, as though you were something precious to him— like you were the only light in his dark world.

His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing it away from your face as he tilted his head slightly, studying you with that dangerous intensity. “You know, kitten,” he murmured, voice low and intimate, “when you called my name in that basement, I damn near went crazy. It keeps replaying over and over in my head."

"I wish I could bring Reese back to life. Just so I could kill him slower this time."

His lips were close to your ear again, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine despite the panic flooding your system. You tried to focus on anything but the feeling of him—his scent, his touch, the way his words dripped with possessiveness—but it was impossible to escape. He consumed the space around you, his control inescapable, even when he was stumbling through his drunken haze.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Sylus whispered, his lips barely grazing your ear now, sending cold dread through you.

“You make me feel weak, kitten. I hate it.”

He paused, letting his words sink in, his fingers still caressing your skin. The affection in his voice was dark, twisted, a perverse reflection of something deeper—something dangerous.

“And yet,” he continued, his voice soft, almost wistful, “I love it. You're the only one who can do this to me”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to react, to push him away, but Sylus noticed everything. He always did. He leaned back slightly, his crimson eyes scanning your face as trying to read your reaction. His smirk returned, but there was something almost gentle in his gaze now—a softness that felt more like a trap than tenderness.

"I wish you hadn't ran. But it was the only way to teach you how safe you are here. And now I have to punish you, honey."

Your stomach dropped, fear twisting through your gut like a vice. The words hung in the air, suffocating, as if the room itself had shrunk around you. The threat in his voice was subtle, but unmistakable. He wanted you to know what was coming, wanted you to feel the weight of it before he even made a move.

Punishment.

The word echoed in your mind, and the way he said it—like it was something inevitable, something you’d earned—made you sick. You had done everything you could to escape him, to break free, but here you were, back in his grip, about to suffer for the one moment of defiance you’d dared to show.

Sylus’s fingers trailed down your neck, his touch slow and deliberate, making your heart race with every second that passed. "Don't be scared," he whispered, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You just need to learn how good you have it here"

You wanted to scream, to break free of his hold, but the fear kept you rooted in place, unable to move, unable to fight back. You could feel the pull of his control tightening around you, the chains of his manipulation wrapping tighter with every breath.

"I'm sorry Sylus..."you whimper, beginning to shake under his touch. "Don't hurt me...please don't hurt me. Please..."

The words came out fragile, breaking with every breath. You hated that you had to say them, hated how vulnerable and powerless you sounded, but you couldn’t stop. The fear, the desperation—they were stronger than your pride.

Sylus’s hand stilled against your skin, his crimson eyes flickering with something unreadable. For a brief moment, a smile tugged at his lips—not the smug, taunting smirk he usually wore, but something softer, more twisted.

He leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your face as he murmured, "Kitten... do you really think I'm going to hurt you?"

Sylus’s fingers moved swiftly, his touch almost gentle as he undid the lock on your ankle chain. It was locked with a number pad. One where the code changed every single time it was unlocked according to him. The cold metal slid away, leaving a raw sensation where it had dug into your skin. You glanced down, your breath caught in your throat as you watched him remove the shackle.

For a split second, there was a flicker of hope—was he letting you go? But that thought vanished as quickly as it had come. This wasn’t freedom. Sylus wasn’t offering you an escape. You knew better.

Confusion flashed across your features, fear giving way to puzzlement. You remained silent, watching intently as he moved away from you to sit on the sofa in the center of the room. With deft movements, he unfastened his belt, eyes locked onto yours the entire time. Finally shrugging off his pants, his rigid cock sprang free, standing at attention.

"Come here kitten, take your punishment" he commanded, patting his muscular thigh invitingly. Tentatively, you rose to your feet, not feeling like you had much choice. The sound of the ankle chain rattling in the room as you nearly tripped over it. Your heart pounded in your chest, a confusing mix of trepidation and strange anticipation swirling inside you. Stopping before him, you gazed down at his handsome face, searching his eyes for answers.

He was just going to have sex with you? How is this any different than the other times?

"Wha-what do-what is this?" you ask, gazing down at his erect member. You feel your throat go dry as you watch it throb, evidence Sylus's excitement already leaking from the tip. Sylus tugs on the hem of your nightgown, casually ignoring your question.

"Strip. You know how this goes."

You certainly did know how things went, but this did seem a little weird. Still, you followed orders and slowly but shakily stripped your clothes off. Sylus watched with hungry eyes, clenching his fists as if restraining himself from pouncing on you. Whatever, you would just dissociate like all the other times. Not much of a punishment that way.

"I must ask...why the couch?" you ask, taking the last part of your sock off.

"The couch is better for riding me don't you think?"

You freeze, praying to god you didn't just hear him say what you thought. He wants you to...ride him? You shoot your head up, eyeing his cock with more fear than ever. It was already a struggle getting it in when laying down how the hell were you supposed to...?

"It..it wont fit like that. Sylus...ple-"

"Sit, kitten. I'm not asking."

Shit. This was happening whether you wanted it to or not. You weren't sure what mind game he was playing this time but it would be best not to anger him. Taking a shaky breath, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you and Sylus until you stood before him, your trembling body bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light. His heated gaze raked over your curves, sending tingles racing across your sensitive skin.

Sylus reached out, fingers curling around your wrists as he tugged you closer. Wordlessly, he guided you onto his lap, large hands settling on your waist to anchor you in place. Immediately, you could feel the scorching heat of his erection pressing insistently against your plush backside.

"I'll hold you so you can balance" he rumbled, the deep timbre of his voice sending delicious vibrations through you. "The rest is up to you, sweetie."

You swallow thickly, your throat going dry again as you steady your hands on his broad shoulders. He lifts you with steady hands to balance you over his erection. Tears start to form in your eyes as you feel the beginning of his head begin to split your entrance to welcome him. Sylus let out a quiet groan, grip tightening on your waist but did not move as promised.

Your heart raced as you sank down further, thighs parting to straddle his muscular legs. Sylus's thick shaft nestled between your slick folds, the bulbous head nudging urgently into your entrance. A strangled whimper escaped your parted lips at the intimate contact.

It certainly didn’t help that Sylus hadn’t “prepared” you like he usually did but you figure this was part of the punishment.

You sucked in a sharp hiss through clenched teeth, your inner walls straining to accommodate his substantial girth. Inch by excruciating inch, you sank down onto his thick length, a sheen of sweat breaking out across your brow from the effort.

Burning pain radiated through your core as Sylus stretched you wider than ever before. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and your thighs quivered with the strain of taking him so deep. But beneath the agony, a thrill of dark pleasure coiled hot and insistent in your belly.

"Shhh..." Sylus crooned, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, tilting your head back so he could capture your mouth in a searing kiss. "I know it hurts, you can handle it"

“Fuck,” you whimper, hands pressing against his chest, “you- you’re so big.” You certainly weren't trying to compliment him. This new angle just sent a whole wave of sensations pain and pleasure through our body. As much as you hated it, as much as you did not want to be sinking yourself onto him, as much as you loathed that he was making you take control, you couldn't deny the ache coiling in your belly.

“So you’ve said,” Sylus smiles, his hand squeezing your ass. "Keep going sweetie, you're almost there.”

By the time you reached the hilt, you were panting harshly, fingernails digging into Sylus's shoulders for support. Your abused passage fluttered and clenched around him, struggling to adjust to the overwhelming fullness. Sylus let out a guttural groan, hips bucking up slightly to bury himself even deeper. You hissed, shooting him a glare in pain.

"I'm sorry, you just felt too good honey" he smirks, voice slightly breathless as you clench and unclench around him. "My turn to behave this time."

You ignore his joke and focus on making him cum so you can get off of him. Biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, you started to rock your hips, rising and falling atop Sylus's thick length in a clumsy, unpracticed rhythm. Pain still lanced through your core with every movement but beneath it, a coil of building pleasure began to unfurl low in your belly.

"Fuck," Sylus groaned gruffly, gripping your bouncing breasts roughly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. "I didn't think you could feel any better than you already did sweetie."

Blushing fiercely, you let out a choked moan, embarrassed by your own shameless motions. But Sylus's gravelly praise only spurred you on, hips undulating faster as you chased the rising tension threatening to consume you.

No. Don't lose to him again. Don't cum.

Sylus groans at the feeling of your skin slapping against his thighs with every bounce on his lap. The tip of his cock hits the sensitive spot deep inside of your cunt so deliciously that you’ve begun to drool, a choked moan escaping your mouth unwittingly.

The moan turns into a yelp when he spanks your ass, your body jolting forward. Sylus’s touches have grown rougher, his hands squeezing almost painfully at your flesh.

"I have to-hah-leave for awhile in a few days" Sylus groans, thoroughly enjoying the squeal you make when he grips your hips again.

"Tell me you'll miss me."

"I wont," you hiss, trying to drown out the sound of his voice with the sounds of your bodies slapping and sliding against each other.

Sylus growls and you feel like shrinking away when you see the glare on his face. He almost seems…desperate. Like he needs to hear you say it.

His hand shoots out, gripping your cheeks. You can feel your lips jut out into a pout and he’s leaning forward kissing you messily. You whine, forced to press yourself closer, tits squishing against his firm chest. Your hips slow and you find yourself fully sitting on his cock, gasping into his mouth at the feeling of being fully impaled, hard and fast.

"Is that so? Have you ever thought about the fact that we both of a piece of an Aether core inside us?" Sylus says, his words whispered against your lips.

"You..mgnh!...have one too?" you whispered, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady yourself against his throbbing member still sitting inside you. Sylus nods, seemingly enjoying the way you struggle against him. The tip of his cock was resting on a sensitive spot and you can feel the ache in your belly grow more and more as it kept pressing into it with each throb.

"Maybe...just maybe" he leans forward, breath hot against your ear. "We're two halves yet to be put together...even if your mind doesn't want me, your heart eventually will".

No. No, no, no. That would never happen.

"Never. That will never happen. All of me hates you. Soul included" you hiss, malice dripping from your voice despite the rising heat in your core. You jerk again as Sylus's member throbs, almost sending you over the edge. Shit, any longer and you would cum before him.

"I'm wounded, kitten" Sylus smirks, placing a kiss against your forehead. "Strangely enough, your body doesn't seem to hate me all that much."

You glare, almost ready to throw yourself off his lap at his words.

"You assh-"

You open your mouth to protest but he’s drowning your voice out with a kiss. He begins pounding up into you, sending electricity coursing through your body. He swallows every word that threatens to come out, his cock driving deeper and deeper until you’re crying out.

"Sylus!"

Gasping and mewling, you bucked wildly atop him, chasing the sweet oblivion that hovered just out of reach against your screaming mind. You didn't care anymore, the primal need to finish overclouding every ounce of sense. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, your velvety walls fluttering desperately around Sylus's pistoning length. You were so close, hovering on the knife's edge...

"Yes, yes! Harder!" you begged shamelessly, throwing your head back in abandon as Sylus pounded mercilessly into your sopping heat. The obscene wet sounds of your coupling filled the room, mixing with your cries of rapture.

"Much better..." Sylus whispers, slamming you harder onto his length, leaving your breathless and gasping for air. He's clearly near his own end, as his motions begins to falter and his hips buck into you. He could imagine it now…the ever growing curve of your belly, the swelling of your breasts, the way you’d carry the life he so desperately wanted to plant inside you.

"Fuck...I can't ever let you go..."

You sink your teeth into his shoulder, moaning. 

“That’s it,” he coos, and the drag of his cock is too hard to ignore, your walls clenching around him tightly as though not wanting to let him go.

“Just have my baby,” he whispers against your ear, slight desperation clawing at his voice. "Just get pregnant already, I can't lose you again."

His voice has you shuddering in your lust driven state, face pressing against his neck as you cum around him. Sylus grits his teeth, the squelch of your cunt growing louder as your slick drips down his length, coating his balls.

You collapse, exhaustion overcoming you and you lean against his shoulder, panting and whining from overstimulation in his ear.

Sylus doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so sweet. The shudder of your body, the softness of your voice. It has him groaning loudly, his hands pulling you down, making sure your pussy is flush against the base of his cock as he cums deep inside your belly.

You can feel the warmth of his cum, the way his sticky release covers the insides of your pussy. But you're too tired to fight it. So you sit there, trying to catch your breathe as you feel his warm liquids spreading across your belly and coating your cervix.

Again. He had won again.

You turn to bury your face in Sylus's shoulder, sobs wracking your trembling body as the emotional storm finally broke. Murmuring soothing words, he gently lifted you into his arms and carried you over to the bed.

With surprising tenderness, Sylus laid you down on the soft mattress, carefully extracting his spent member from your abused folds. You whimpered at the loss, a shudder rippling through you as you anticipated the familiar weight of chains once more.

But instead of restraining you, Sylus wiped himself clean with his discarded shirt before crawling in beside you. Tentatively, he pulled your quivering form into his embrace, strong arms cocooning you in his warmth.

"You did so well, kitten," he praised softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your damp temple. "I actually quite enjoy having you on top of me".

Sniffling, you peered up at him through tear-clumped lashes, noting the rosy flush coloring his cheeks. It was then you remembered his inebriated state, the alcohol likely responsible for his gentleness and vulnerability tonight.

"Have you been drinking?" you asked quietly, biting your lip with your teeth. "You seem...off?"

Sylus hummed noncommittally, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made your heart ache. "Don't worry about me, sweetie. Right now, I just want to focus on you."

You lay beside him, the bed feeling far too small for the space that should exist between you. Sylus’s body was warm against yours, his arm draped loosely around your waist as if you belonged there, as if the chain had never existed. The alcohol had clearly dulled his usual sharpness, and now, he seemed content just to be near you, his breath steady, his tone softer than you’d ever heard it before.

For a while, there was silence, save for the faint sound of his breathing, but then he began to speak, his voice low and unguarded.

“My pretty little hunter,” he murmured, his words slightly slurred with the weight of exhaustion and liquor. His hand moved absentmindedly, brushing against your skin as he continued. “Just one glance at you and I needed to have you near me. I haven't acted the same since”.

You swallowed hard, your body tense as you listened to him, unsure whether to believe the tenderness in his words or to fear them. This wasn’t the Sylus you were used to—the one who controlled every moment, every breath, with calculated precision. This was someone else. Someone softer, someone…vulnerable.

His fingers trailed lightly down your arm, the touch making you shiver as his voice dropped even lower, almost as if he were confessing a secret. “I love you. I love you more than anything in this world. There is not a line I wouldn't cross for you”.

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Love? The same man who kept you chained, who toyed with you, who controlled you—loved you?

Your heart raced, confusion swirling through you. How were you supposed to feel? His words, though spoken with such gentleness, felt like a trap. Could he really mean such words?

You turned your head slightly, your voice barely a whisper as you asked, “If you love me, then let me go.”

Sylus stiffened slightly, his hold on you tightening, and you felt the shift in him even before he answered. His lips were close to your ear as he murmured, “I can’t do that, honey.”

A pang of despair shot through you, your heart sinking at the confirmation of what you already knew. He wouldn’t let you go. Not now, not ever.

“Then you don’t love me,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your words.

For a moment, there was silence. You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and steady, but there was no response—no anger, no frustration. Just a low, quiet chuckle.

"So feisty," he whispered, his voice fading as his body relaxed against you. His grip loosened slightly, and within moments, you felt his breathing slow, deepening as he drifted into a drunken slumber.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your heart heavy with the weight of his words and the chains that still bound you—whether they were physical or not. Sylus had fallen asleep beside you, but you knew the nightmare was far from over.

You don’t know when you finally drifted off to sleep, but exhaustion had eventually won out, pulling you into a restless slumber beside Sylus. The warmth of his body, the weight of his arm draped over you, and the tangled mess of fear and confusion had blurred into a haze.

When you woke, the room was bathed in the soft light of the lamp on the nightstand and for a moment, you were disoriented—until you felt it. The absence of the chain.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You shifted slightly, peering down at your ankle, almost not daring to believe it. He forgot to chain you. The shackle that had become a part of your existence, a symbol of your captivity, wasn’t there. You swallowed hard, the realization sinking in further with each passing second.

But that wasn’t all. The door—the door to the bedroom—was open.

Your breath caught in your throat. Sylus had left it open, probably in his drunken state, and now you had a chance. A chance to escape.

Slowly, cautiously, you turned your head to look at him. He was still lying beside you, his breathing slow and steady, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. His face, usually so cold and unreadable, was softened in sleep, but you knew better than to trust it. He could wake at any moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the fear and hope warring inside you as you looked between him and the door. This was it. Your chance. But the danger still lingered. If he woke up before you reached the door… you didn’t want to think about what he would do.

You moved slowly, carefully slipping out from under his arm. Every inch of movement felt like a lifetime, each breath so shallow you were afraid even the smallest sound might wake him. Sylus’s arm slid off your waist, falling limp onto the mattress as you shifted out of his reach.

Your heart pounded as you sat up, holding your breath, waiting for any sign that he might stir. But the only sound was his steady breathing, deep and even. He was still asleep.

Your feet hit the cold floor, and a wave of adrenaline shot through you. You glanced back at him one last time, your heart racing as you studied his face—relaxed, but the usual sharpness of his features still there, even in slumber. The alcohol had clearly knocked him out, but you couldn’t be sure how deeply. Would he wake if you moved too fast?

Your eyes darted to the door. It was open—just a crack, but enough. Enough for you to slip through and make your escape.

You rose from the bed as silently as you could, your legs trembling slightly beneath you. You grabbed your discarded dress from the floor and quickly threw it over your head. One step. Then another. Your breath hitched as the floor creaked softly under your weight, but Sylus didn’t stir. Closer. You were so close. The door was right there, freedom within your grasp.

But just as you reached the threshold, just as you thought you might actually make it, a low voice pierced the silence.

"Going somewhere without me?"

Your blood froze in your veins. You turned your head slowly, dread creeping up your spine, and there he was—awake. Sylus’s crimson eyes gleamed in the dim light, his face unreadable but his voice heavy with cold amusement. His earlier softness had vanished, replaced with the icy, controlled demeanor you knew all too well.

He propped himself up on one elbow, watching you with a lazy, calculating gaze. "What were you planning, kitten?" he asked, his voice smooth but dangerous. "You failed, just as I expected."

Your throat tightened, words catching in your mouth as your pulse quickened. His calm, composed manner sent a fresh wave of terror through you. He wasn’t yelling, wasn’t even angry—just disappointed, and somehow, that was worse. His voice carried a weight that made it clear he had complete control, even now.

This was...a test?

Sylus rose from the bed with fluid, deliberate movements, each step toward you unnervingly calm. His eyes never left yours, and that cold smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he approached. "You didn’t really think you could get away, did you?"

Sylus’s fingers wrapped around your arm, his grip firm but not painful—yet. He held you there for a moment, letting the tension build, his eyes locked onto yours with a cold, dangerous gleam. Then, without breaking eye contact, he slowly bent down and picked up the ankle chain from the floor, his movements deliberate and precise.

The clink of the metal sent a shiver of dread through you, and your body stiffened as you realized what was coming next. You swallowed hard, but it did nothing to ease the rising panic in your chest. Sylus straightened, holding the chain in his hands, his jaw clenched tight, though his expression remained eerily calm.

“I can't say I'm surprised,” he muttered, his voice low and dripping with quiet anger now. He knelt down, wrapping the cold metal clasp around your ankle with a precision that felt almost practiced, almost routine. The clasp locked into place with a sharp click, then the other lock, and the sensation of it once again digging into your skin made your stomach twist.

“You should know better than anyone that I don't make such silly mistakes,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with an unmistakable edge. “And here I thought we were making a little progress...” His fingers brushed against your ankle briefly before he stood up, towering over you once more, the chain now a familiar weight keeping you tethered.

There was no mockery in his tone now—just simmering frustration, barely contained. His earlier drunken haze had worn off enough for him to regain some of his cold composure, but the fact that you had tried to escape had clearly struck a nerve.

Sylus let out a slow breath, his gaze dark and unwavering. “You know I can’t let this slide,” he murmured, his voice quiet but heavy with a dangerous calm. “I’m disappointed, sweetie.”

The chain clinked softly as you shifted, your throat tightening as his words settled over you like a suffocating weight. You had no more energy to fight, no more defiance to offer—not when his control had wrapped itself so tightly around you, leaving no room to breathe.

Sylus had dragged you back to the bed that night, his grip firm but his usual taunts absent. There was no smirk, no teasing remark—just cold, unsettling silence. He had pulled the chain around your ankle tight once more, making sure you were secure without a word. And then, without so much as a glance, he had moved across the room to sit at his desk, typing away at his laptop, shutting you out completely.

The sting of his indifference lingered long after you’d laid down, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of the chain around your ankle heavier than ever.

Days passed after that, and Sylus’s behavior only grew colder. He still woke up next to you, still kept you bound to his room, but something had changed. There was no warmth in his voice anymore, no possessive affection in his touch. His "good mornings" were flat, hollow, as though he was simply going through the motions. He didn’t even eat breakfast or dinner with you anymore. Instead, he would quietly leave the food for you and return to his laptop or disappear for hours at a time, leaving you alone.

He wasn't even asking you to strip. No teasingly touching your body while undressing you either. No mentions of wanting to have sex at all.

The cold indifference felt like a punishment, but not in the way you had grown used to. There was no anger, no violence—just distance. A distance that hurt more than you thought it could. For all the cruelty, all the manipulation, there had always been a twisted attention, a presence. But now, even that was gone.

You felt more isolated than ever. And he had mentioned leaving for awhile soon, which meant it would only get worse.

It was another of those nights. Sylus had been silent all evening, barely acknowledging you. He sat on his sofa, typing away on his laptop, the glow of the screen casting harsh shadows on his face. You watched him from the bed, the tension growing unbearable.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his sudden shift. Was this just another game? A new way to break you? You couldn’t understand it, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

"Sylus," you called softly, hoping to get his attention. But he didn’t respond, his fingers moving methodically over the keys, as if he hadn’t heard you at all.

Frustration welled up inside you, but it was more than just frustration—it was a sense of fear, of rejection, something you couldn’t quite put into words. You hated how much it affected you, but the silence, the distance...it hurt?

"Sylus, I can’t sleep," you said, your voice small, almost hesitant.

He paused, his fingers stilling for a moment. You held your breath, waiting for him to turn to you, to respond the way he used to, with that twisted mixture of affection and dominance that had somehow become your world.

"Oh, now you want me?" you hoped he would respond, that stupid grin adorning his face.

But instead, he looked up briefly, his gaze cold and detached. "Count sheep," he said flatly, the words devoid of any emotion or warmth. Then, without another glance, he returned to his work.

The coldness of his reply hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t just the dismissal—it was the way he said it, as though you didn’t matter at all. He didn’t even look at you for more than a second before his attention shifted back to the glowing screen in front of him.

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut, the sudden emptiness in his words leaving a hollow ache in your chest. For all his cruelty, for all the ways he had manipulated and controlled you, there had always been something in his eyes when he looked at you—a possessive intensity, a twisted form of attention. Now, there was nothing. Just cold indifference.

You lay back down on the bed, your heart heavy, the weight of the chain pulling you deeper into the suffocating silence. You stared at the ceiling, unable to shake the feeling of abandonment that settled over you. The ache in your chest refused to go away, and despite everything, you found yourself missing the twisted affection he used to show.

Even that, you realized, had been a kind of comfort.

But now.. now, you weren’t even sure if you mattered to him at all.

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Concubine Harem

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Many people would call you crazy or insane but you didn’t care. You absolutely hated your life and the god forsaken family you were born into. If you could choose, you would have been born into a lesser family. It wasn’t always like this, in fact when you were younger you were last in line for the throne. It was due to the sabotage of greedy and jealous mothers that got all your half siblings and full blooded siblings murdered. Unfortunately, that meant that you were forced into the position of being the next heir and eventually the new ruler.

You could remember the moment you became heir, you were immediately bombarded with people trying to curry up your favor. You honestly hated it, everyone just felt superficial and it didn’t help that as you grew, so did your power. Even your childhood friends were not immune to this. Imagine your shock when your closest friend got up on one knee and asked for the chance to court you. Then your classmate, then your former brother’s friend, and etc.

You had barely even had a concept of what love was. From a very young age your mother was murdered and your father hardly ever paid that much attention to you as well. You were mostly alone in your own little world and you absolutely loved that. People always just seemed so annoying to you that you did the bare minimum in communicating with others.

You tried to remain single as long as possible but your father did not agree with this decision of yours. He’s always seen relationships and marriage as a way to get more influence from around the world. So at the age of twenty, you were officially given a concubine, a foreign princess from the East. She was clingy and whenever you talked to other people she seemed to always want to monopolize your attention. This behavior only seemed to get worse when your father caused you to take in concubines to gain various alliances.

Within your harem there was competition daily. Sons of generals who tried to show off with their strengths, princesses who tried to get your attention with their singing abilities, princes who would try to show off their archery, scholars who showed off their intelligence, etc. The list goes on and on. There was so much jealousy in your harem that it was unbelievable. It also didn’t help that everyone was always trying to kill each other. You were so sick and tired of it. All you wanted was some peace and quiet.

There were daily assassination attempts on concubines, poised drinks to make someone infertile, constant fake crying so that you could favor someone, and etc. Every single time you take in a new concubine you could always feel them seething but you always ignored it. You didn’t know why they loved you so much, hell you even told them if they ever wanted a divorce you would give it to them. Yet, no one has ever left willingly. It was as if they looked up to you as a god or something it was just so strange.

You’re favored concubines were of course, always thrilled to have your attention on them. They were usually the ones who got to sleep with you at night. Seems as a privilege as only the most loved got to do that. You, however, had to be careful sometimes because unwanted sexual advances could happen anytime in the bedroom.

If you feel in a particularly good mood that day however, you may even let one of them bathe with you. “Your majesty, your skin is silky smooth. I wish to do this with you forever. No words can express how I feel and how much I love you. Won’t you allow me to be your first husband?” Yeah, this was basically how most of your conversations went. Everyone wanted to have the first slot at being your husband or wife. It was the ultimate showcase to prove you loved them the most and was a definite power trip for those in the harem.

Going to bed everyday was like a minefield. You just don’t know who’s going to show up in your chambers. Most of the time it’s one of your concubines, that you allowed to sleep with you for the night, in provocative attire. “Your majesty, I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately. Won’t you please pay some attention to me?” It’s honestly crazy how there is no limit of what these guys wouldn’t do for you. They just seem so overly infatuated and obsessive.

No matter what you did to them, they would always seem to look at you with love and admiration. You could basically insult all of them and they would accept it with a ‘thank you’. Nothing you did, could ever make them hate you.

Bullying was an extreme issue in your harem. No matter where you went there were always green tea bitches, white lotuses, and cunning foxes trying to bring someone down in your eyes. It’s even worse if they're new, having barely any awareness of what is happening, they definitely need to be more careful. No matter where you go at least three of them are stuck to your side. You’re alone time is basically nonexistent and extinct.

With teary eyes one of your concubines shout, “My lord, please help me! I’m being bullied by the others in the harem!” If you were being honest, you absolutely did not care about what was going on and one hundred percent knew that she was just using a manipulation tactic. However, to avoid the incoming headache you begin to console her and tell her that you’ll have a talk with everyone. You then decide to give her what she wanted and guide her towards your bedroom chambers. As you both leave she quickly looks at the faces of the others and sticks her tounge out. There was a look of absolute rage on their faces and with that they all had the same unanimous thought in their head.

“I’m totally going to get that bitch back for this!!!”

Pt.2

[daemon-in-my-head]

Sorry but I think Gortash is incredibly, well, not jealous but possessive. That man wears his netherstone on his hand, is the chosen of tyranny, obtained a whole ass city, tadpoled his parents, stole from an archdevil and pulled off the whole absolute bit just to piss of the devil that bought him. Which is a very long way of saying; he's a spiteful, bratty, possessive, tyrannical little man who is only happy when he's got it all.

Who also tells your companions as soon as he fucking sees them that Durge was a murderer, worked for him, and insinuates that working wasn't the only thing they did together.

That man is not fine with sharing anything, except his own body for gains but never the murderous Bhaalspawn behind him.

I mean, he knows what defying your God means. He knows about the judgement of the false and forsaken, he knows what consequences that has and he is not aware that Durge picked up on their old gods or jergal as a patron. And still that man is hyped. Cuz the one thing that could absolutely control Durge is gone. Bhaal is gone. Durge is free to be possessed by only him. Of course that bitch is happy and supportive, you've just given him a bloody wonderful gift.

This also explains why he's so happy when he gets push back. Any sane person would argue 'well that's the furthers away from Gortash being able to live out his possessive yandere boyfriend dream' but no, it is not. First of all, Gortash is not sane, he is quite insane seeing what he did and what he continues to do. Sadistic unethical mad scientist and all that. So using normal logic does not work with 'tyranny and hivemind is wonderful' - Lord Enver Gortash. He does not think like a sane person because arguably brother aint sane. But what does work for him is a subject that is just daring enough to defy even him, because if durge can defy the love of their life (which Gortash thinks he is), they would most definitely reject any other suitor or those who try and claim them otherwise.

If Act 3 wasn't so fast paced and telling Gortash you've defeated Orin would allow you to get to the brain asap that man would probably start abducting and killing your companions himself. Because 'my durge, hands off bitch' Enver Gortash does not appreciate Durges new company whatsoever and like, he's giving 'worshipping' vibes.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty-two: cunnilingus

>>> idk why i’m only here for yandere rough megumi sjdkfkffkg i mean he isn’t all the way yandere but it’s strongly implied, y’all enjoy!

>>> starring: megumi fushiguro x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: yandere-ish behavior, cunnilingus (f receiving) clearly, doggy, overstimulation, prone bone kinda, creampie, jealous megumi. >>> wc: 2.5k >>> event masterlist.

it really was his favorite place to be. being between your legs, face buried in your warm, wet and sweet-tasting cunt was so soothing and fulfilling to him he simply could not get enough. he wondered if he had an oral fixation specifically because of your pussy, almost concerned with how much he loves being on his knees wherever whenever just to get a taste of you. at the beginning of your relationship, megumi was a bit…nervous around you. it wasn’t like his mind wasn’t coursing with lewd thoughts about his pretty little curvy angelic goddess of a girlfriend, he just didn’t know how to tell you he craved your cunt on his face like normal men crave water. so yes, he had to come out of his sexual shell so to speak. but it seems this god forsaken get together at gojo’s was going to ease him out of it—and your cunt wouldn’t be his sweet release, it would be his sloppy playtoy by the end of the night.

not to say that megumi wasn’t pleasing you enough already, though, of course. he may be a bit routine about things, but he always took care of you. did you want him to be a little rougher from time to time? sure, but you’ve never been with someone so eager and passionate about eating you out either. that alone was worth his perhaps lack in kinkiness.

though your boyfriend has a bunch of his own ideas including a host of naughty things he wants to do to you as well as the ones spurring from his crippling jealousy. he’s not even quite sure where it comes from, gojo gave him everything he needed out of life and he never felt jealous of other kids growing up despite his unconventional upbringing. but when it came to you, he felt something sinister tug at him. maybe it was because you are so otherworldly beautiful that he can’t help but be on standby, waiting for someone to make a shitty comment about your body or stealing you away. maybe it’s because he knows he’s not doing enough to earn the pleasure of calling you his. but no one else could do any better than him, he knows that for sure.

so why is yuuta trying? he knows full well who you belong to—gojo’s famed favorite former pupil has you pulled aside, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your protective and sensitive boyfriend. it’s been years since you all had gojo-sensei’s class, but megumi still hated that yuuta okkotsu. his dad favored him as his successor over him, and even yuji took to him pretty quickly. those were reasons enough to hold a forever grudge, but watching the older man hold all your attention was driving him to murderous thoughts. having all the former sorcerers in one spot wasn’t a good idea—especially not when megumi had acquired an absolute babe in the time apart from his now young adult friends.

especially not when yuuta had you leaned against the wall, nervously chuckling to whatever he was saying, eyes darting around to look for your boyfriend. megumi was frozen in place, trying to settle the argument between the devil and angel on each shoulder. he could just approach yuuta and explain reasonably that you’re spoken for, and that he should keep it moving. but on the other hand, he thinks he should punch yuuta in the face because everyone knows you’re spoken for and that he’s your man. then he should drag you upstairs and fuck you sore and screaming until every person in attendance was uncomfortable. he can see you get increasingly anxious, so he makes the decision.

“c’mon okkotsu. you know that’s my girl.” you hear the ice drip from his tone. he’s not playing any games, and that’s clear by his unamused scowl and the way he folds his arms over his chest. you’re relieved to see him, smiling softly at the man you’ve always known to be your stoic and calm boyfriend. but the look in his eyes as he slides them over to look at you sends a shiver down your spine. yuuta chuckles nervously, blaming the alcohol and your cute dress for his lack of sense.

megumi growls at that, rearing his hand back to start a real problem. this was practically his house, he didn’t care about any potential repercussions—but your voice comes over him to invoke reason.

“hey hey, point made. he’s gone.” you know it’s true based off the shuffling of yuji and toge getting off the couch to ensure that yuuta and megumi are separated before it can come to blows. you lean into his chest, but his gaze only follows the group of boys as they shift upstairs.

his arms fall around your waist, and he wonders if he actually even heard what you said or if your voice alone was enough to make him hesitate. the rest of the party guests still watch the scene—wondering if it gets better or worse from here. some of them had experienced megumi’s temper before, some knew it was a horrific mix of nurture and nature, both his father and the man who raised him horrifically jealous beasts of nature. and the apple doesn’t fall far.

“go upstairs. find a room.” he snarls, daring anyone in attendance to speak up against him. your cheeks flush at his command. he’s only ever spoken to you with a gentle tone, with patience and understanding and all the warmth a man like himself can convey. but you’ve yearned for this other side—this gruffness in his voice and the unwavering dominance in his eyes. he doesn’t care that everyone’s watching—in fact, he wants them to. you nod eagerly, turning tail to find an unoccupied spare room in gojo’s giant house.

he only loiters behind long enough to let everyone watch you obey him—the prettiest woman in the universe, who could easily have anyone she ever wanted, caters to his every whim and order. he lags behind you just a bit, but you can feel his presence. it’s dark. he’s always been a distant, more guarded man. because of that, he’s always been regarded as cold. but his light never felt daunting until now. he never felt oppressive or controlling or possessive; you don’t have to look over your shoulder to know he’s close. it makes heat lick up your stomach walls and bubble down your legs as you wobble towards a room at the end of the hall that was sure to be vacant. you knock to be sure anyway, but megumi reaches around your waist to open the door anyway. his other hand grips your hip, pushing your forward with the pressure of his pelvis against your ass.

you gasp and stumble into the darkness, giggling a little in excitement as you find the bed. megumi’s fingers find the light switch, and you turn to look at his anger riddled features, something only jealousy could produce.

“yuuta okkotsu, huh?” he asks, pulling his shirt over his head. it messes up the spiky tendrils of his hair, but you don’t notice over the crazed look in his eyes. he’s pale and lean, dips along his slender abdomen indicating the strength hiding beneath. he fiddles with his belt next. “you have a voice. why didn’t you tell him to back off?”

you flush with embarrassment, anxiety rippling at your core to mix with the burning excitement. “i—i was try—“

“i—i” megumi mocked, licking his teeth. he walked closer to you, taking over that tiny little sundress you wore that was no doubt the only layer keeping him or anyone else away from your drooling cunt. it aggravates him. you look this beautiful out in public all the time—and it really didn’t matter if you were in this slutty dress or a goddamn burlap sack, anyone with eyes in their head could tell that you were an angel among mortal men. “you’re too nice for your own good. you almost got his ass kicked because you don’t know how to speak up for yourself.”

you bite your lip, nodding along to his scolding. you know you should apologize to him, but you can’t deny how much it turns you on to see him so angry. especially when he approaches you, pushing your sitting form in to a laying one so he could yank you by the hips to the bottom of the bed. he flips your sundress up, snarling again when he finds you bare—and soaking fucking wet.

“oh i see. you’re cute enough to parade around like this but can’t tell other boys you have a man?” he spits on your pussy, sliding it around your hood and lips with his middle and ring fingers. “i’ll help you find your voice.”

he shoves your thighs apart and keeps them like that, rolling his eyes as you squirm and writhe. it’s only in excitement, though. your hands find his hair to prove it as he dives toward your cunt, lapping at you eagerly. he can’t help but moan at your taste—no matter how many tried only he got to experience this moment, the way you look with his mouth suckling on your clit; brows draw up in ecstasy, lip already swollen and puffy from your teeth repeatedly gnawing into it. he couldn’t help but be obsessed with you, anyone would be—it was clear that pretty much everyone was.

but you remind him of your love when you clutch your thighs around his face, tugging his hair so hard he has no choice but to bury his face deeper, sucking and biting on your clit so roughly you whimper—big hands that always stay cool to the touch paw at the meat of your thighs to let you know just how much he enjoys being one that pleasures you. he needs to hear you scream his name—needs you to let everyone know who it is that’s got you seeing stars and arching off the mattress.

“meg—gonna cum, oh sh—“ your stomach burns, and you lurch and crumple to try to relieve it, but megumi holds you down. he grunts to egg you on, demanding your orgasm to come quicker as he nibbles on the very source of your pleasure, sending colorful orbs flashing across your vision as you wail his name. you’re getting there, but he knows you can get louder.

“don’t hold back now, do better.” he seems agitated as he hooks his arms around your thighs—pulling your cunt to his face without any means of escape. he slides his tongue back in your hole, intense jaded emerald eyes watching your contorted face of deliriousness. you were brainless already, chants of ‘megumi—megumi—megu—meg-megumi!’ roll past your lips as he slides his tongue along your entire slit, nose bumping against your swollen and oversensitive clit so hard he almost feels bad for all his old classmates and friends listening to your guttural cries. almost.

you’re weightless, suspended in space—floating in a river of unending bliss. it’s too much. you’re finally getting what you’ve always asked for and you can’t handle it—and his pants are still on. the only things tying you to the planet are: the feeling of his soft hair clenched tight in between your fingers, the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes from the sheer pressure of his mouth milking your pussy, and his delicious grunts of demand. you can’t deny him, and your hips clearly beg for more as they hump his face to push you towards your second edge in just a few minutes.

he hopes yuuta and all those other motherfuckers that have ever thought about toeing the line get the fucking message—you’re certainly being loud and clear. your vision darkens completely, mouth dropped in a permanent yell of his name. it’s perfect, and megumi lacks the patience to be gentle, for once. he shoves you back, lips glistening with your slick, cheeks red from his hard work and eyes flickering with a cold flame so hot your whole body burns for him.

he shrugs, shoving his pants down and tugging at the hand of his solid black briefs next. “face down, ass up.” you bite your lip in anticipation, rolling to your stomach in the pretty arch he requested. he nods at your obedience, getting up on the bed with you. his cool touch finds your hips at the same time his fat cockhead finds your entrance—and he’s pulling you down on him mercilessly. “don’t you dare quiet yourself. i want them to hear everything.”

his growl affects you almoat as much as his rough strokes, curved pale length stabbing through to your cervix without any breaks in between. megumi cursed under his breath, pulling your arms behind your back to ensure that you struggled to obey him. it was cute watching you turn your face in the covers so he—and everyone else—could hear your animalistic cries. he pins your wrists in one massive trap of his own hand, his other still leveraging a hold on your hip to keep you from escaping his brutal ruts.

it’s no wonder he’s a jealous fucking freak over you at all. your pussy was magical, soaking wet and beaten into the shape of him and him alone—you gripped him like his own personal mold. he couldn’t stomach anyone even thinking about having you in the way he has you right now. it messes with him that he can’t stop that—but maybe your gorgeous curses of his name will be enough to ward off such worries for a while. he fills you so perfectly you could never think about another man anyway—even if he was only soft and gentle and tender with you, a far cry from what he is right now, you’d never stray. but especially with this performance, with your brain jolting around in your head and nothing but fire and ice flooding your senses—you can only scream out your love for him just like he wants.

“that’s what i’m talking about. scream and cum, babe.” he encouraged, letting your hands go so he could yank on your hair. he tugs hard, and it sends electricity shooting down your spine. his voice is so raspy and needy as his cock twitches inside your walls—as unforgiving and tight as they were since you were fluttering close to your release. “i said cum.”

you gasp out, feeling him pinch your clit again, the final push you needed as you reach out for the headboard. he keeps you from crawling away by knocking you flat to the bed, hand sprawled across your back to make you take it. you’re a goner, only able to feel the ridges of his cock abusing your worn hole—scraping against the entrance to your womb from this angle. his speed dies down and warmth floods your cunt, making a dumb little smile spread across your face. he rolls his hips into your ass slower, riding out your high. he’s panting, running a hand through his sweaty hair before he leans over to kiss you. he’s still needy, eagerly finding your mouth and kissing you with a beautiful mix of passion and aggression.

it sinks in then just how rough he’s been with you, and his eyes flash with regret. his lips move to form an apology—but a knock on the door cuts him off.

“hey junior—you done? everyone’s traumatized. great work.” gojo snickers—clearly proud of his boy.

[newkatzkafe2023]

I have one! Do you know those delicious Monkey King pieces of yours? May I please ask for a bit of simultaneous comfort for the reader & the SWKs. Bandage them up, maybe the reader found time to gather them fruit? Both are protective af (yandere-esc) of each other. Genders are the dealer's choice. Thank you so much!

🙇‍♀️ 🙇‍♀️ 🙇‍♀️ 🙇‍♀️ 🙇‍♀️

Yandere x Yandere🥰😍😈🔪

(Lmk Wukong) You have catered to him for years. He is a the apple of your eye and vice versa He Was so in love and so attached to you that he couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't lose you So he made you immortal so he can have you forever. Not that you Mind he was the cutest monkey you ever met. You told him that you will take care of him. Such a good care of him your both are each other's world and your gonna love each other forever and ever 💛🐒.

(MKR Wukong) Oh you to are a very dangerous combination married couple. His Possessive nature and you're the jealous type You guys are the very definition of Yandere Couple. He made you immortal many years ago but you loved him so much so it was never a problem. You always share everything together from fruit. People were deeply concerned about your marriage it was cute how much in love you guys are but your both very obsessed. You once murdered a female demon out of Jealously and her was chirping and purring sweetly towards you. Your both extremely lethal but you also wouldn't have it any other way🔥🐒.

(NR Wukong) You guys are both so unpredictable it is insane and nerve racking. You share everything together from fruit to Alcoholic drinks and go on rides together and people see you everywhere together. There is never one without the other Li and Su Eventually became very concerned when they keep finding you together. The activity you always loved to do together the most was dancing to together where you would hold each other close like If you dare to let go you would loss each other forever. Rip to those who would dare separate you too🐒😈

(HIB Wukong) He is so Hot. People hated him for his looks but not you. He was not only very handsome but protective, caring, and more or Least grumpy. The biggest thing you loved about him is how well he takes care of children which checked all the boxes in you head. So you made your moves chirping and purring at him with hearts in your eyes and he look like a god-forsaken cherry but the end of it. He couldn't take it anymore and had to have you immediately so the next day Pigsy jaw dropped and the kids confused as to find a celestial monkey woman sitting in their dad's lap as Wukong introduced you as his mate and their brand new mother 👩🐒.

(Netflix Wukong) What a cute little monkey boy🥺. You can't get enough of him and vice versa. One day after watching him save the village you approached him a let out a cute flirty little chirp at him and he was on you like white on rice. Lin had found him being fed fruit by you occasionally your licking fingers you blushed but did nothing to stop him. Every time the village was in trouble he would make quick work of the demons and run right back to you. You have killed a couple of demons before for trying to hurt your sweet baby monkey and he was more in love then ever 🥰🐒.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[blue-sadie]

Unclaimed Omega

Obsessed Alpha Neteyam x Omega Reader

Summary: Neteyam's yandere behavior finally getting the best of him

Warning: yandere character, dark thoughts, plans of kidnapping

Neteyam pov

The only light in this dreaded world was pulling away from me out of my grasp and I can't handle it, it feels like my lungs are about to collapse and my heart is about to break I can't let her escape I won't let her escape.

She was my childhood best friend and now she's become the only thing that keeps me going she's the sweetness to my heart, my pride and joy and no one except me can have her.

But she is to sweet and naive to realize the people around her are leeches and the only one she needs is me, I am her one and only, the person who will love and cherish her for the rest of her life.

"Neteyam" I snapped out my daze as I heard her sweet and angelic voice call out to me "your bleeding" she murmured walking over to me and grabbing my bleeding hands "oh I was just was lost in train of thought and must have cut myself" I shrugged and smiled as she started rumbling on about me taking care of myself.

"Maybe you should help me" I said grinning as I saw her blush "i-i have to go" she stuttered and before I could speak she ran out and my heart burned with desire as I watched her hips sway with each step.

But anger filled me why would she ever want to run away from me her alpha the only who can take care of her in this god forsaken world and soon I'm gonna make her realize it.

I looked down at my hand smiling as I saw the clean wound she's such a good omega, I quickly wrapped it and went out to find her in the village since it was close to eclipse and the festival was about to start.

I weaved through the crowd looking for her and when I did i let out a threatening growl, tulwari my biggest rival hand his arm wrapped around her waist and she was letting out uncomfortable pheromones but he wasn't taking the hint.

"Let her out" I growled gaining the attention of the people standing around us "I don't think I will" he chuckled bring her closer into him and snapping at her when she tried to get a way "tulwari I am warning let her go" I hissed and when he just laughed I lunged at him careful not to hit yn in the process.

As I hit him in the face he pushed yn to the floor but I just carried on punching and kicking him to the floor ignoring his pleads of mercy it was only till I heard yn whimper I realized I went to far, he was almost unrecognizable with all the blood.

I shook my head getting all the thoughts of murder out my mind and turned picking yn up and walking through the speechless crowld and took her to my family's tent and put her on my bed she was shivering in fear and I got her a glass of water and put in a special powder to make her sleep.

If I was gonna make her mine tonight's the night "here drink this" i murmured handing her the cup and i watched attentively making sure she drank every last drop "thank you nete" she whispered as her eyes started to close and she yawned tiredly i smiled my heart feeling fuzzy she is so cute.

She cuddle into herself as she feel asleep and i gently caressed her face pushing back some of her hair "your mine" i said and carefully picked her up and sneaking out the back entrance so no one would follow me.

I walked farther and farther into forest every so often i glanced down at her peaceful face as she let out soft snores she was beautiful "here we are" i said as i came to the hut i built for our family, i gently layed her down in the bed and tied her limbs to the posts.

"Your mine forever"

[peachedtv]

Re-Fucking-Venge

﹂ Yandere!Dabi x Nurse!Reader ‘Come dance with me in hell, won’t you, Father?’ And boy did Dabi fucking mean it. Poor little you to have been his next ledge to mindfuck his father to shards. 

﹂Genre: angst, toxic relationship, slow burn, 18+

﹂ Warnings: AFAB, female pronouns, Kidnapping, non-sexual hair pulling, paralysis, angst, drugging, profanity, descriptions of panic attacks, violence, slight horror, insults, broken family dynamic (both Dabi [duh] and reader's),

﹂ WC: 6.67k

﹂ From Redact: this will be continued! My motivation sucks so I'll try to promise a regular schedule.. I first posted this story at 2k words, then kept editing back to get it up to 6.67k, so I'm reposting it to let the people see the final copy incase yk. If you wanna be on a taglist tell me !!! I'd love to have one

Honestly, everything's turned into a fucking mess.

After the absolute devastation of Dabi’s theatrical exposing of Endeavour, your workplace was swarmed by furious citizens and questioning paparazzi. They were angry. So fucking angry. Angry for the fact that Endeavour had such cruel impositions on his children, angry that his actions caused the root of such a murderous villain, and angry at the fall of heroes being ironically unheroic. Day or night, their anger wouldn’t stop. The continuous flashing lights of cameras, the synchronized yelling, and the fists that shook in the air. With the mantra of harassment towards your hospital, one would think you’re caring for number one himself—the one Dabi framed as the center point for his villainous roots, the one who did most of the hurting. But, no. You weren’t caring for Endeavour. You were the main nurse for his wife, Rei. And that's what truly ticked your soul.

It absolutely baffled you. Why were such a mantra of citizens harassing a regular person? Can’t they properly think that if Dabi’s speech pointed at Endeavour, it’s mainly Endeavour’s doing? Article after article, you started to understand that many hard-luck Endeavour fans were convinced that the abuse Dabi had forsaken was all Rei’s fault.

‘She’s manipulative.’

‘What a fucking gold digger.’

‘No wonder Endeavour had to take out his anger on his children.’

Yet who was the one in psychiatric care? Are these people truly blind to the obvious victim here? It made your blood boil.

You kept Rei under your loving care for years. As someone who had their own fucked up family situation, you felt for her since her admission oh so many years ago. You knew who she truly was, and so, it made you enraged that these strangers yelled at her as though they’d known her all their ignorant lives. As if they had the entire situation figured out when even Endeavour had his own twisted narration of what happened. People believe what they want to believe, and you began to understand that. People protect what and who they wish to protect. It did not matter how morphed and wicked the twists on their perceptions may be—as long as they can justify themselves. As long as they can justify the wrong.

And so, here, Rei was not the object of the crowd’s protection. She was the embodiment of their malformed justifications. The receiver of their hatred, the one to hear the garbage and clunk of cans thrown against her window.

It’s during a time like this that you’re truly brought back. Brought back to the Rei who first arrived. The Rei who was constantly in a fight or flight response. For the first few weeks of her stay, she wore a horrid expression of absolute dread. Her eyes truly had no spark, and her body felt empty of any soul. She always looked down, her chin tucked near her chest as she zoned out into a singular corner of her room. Many of the doctors and nurses complained to the head, saying she was too much for our hospital to handle. Whenever someone merely grazed her arm while cleaning her room, she would scream out in horror—thrashing about as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Thus, when nurse after nurse had quit being her caretaker, finally you came up to the chopping block, and you had heard a lot about her. Of course, none of which was positive.

‘She’s fucking insane.’

‘That woman makes me want to quit.’

‘Thank god I got switched out.’

‘Goodluck, Y/N, you’ll need it.’

When you first saw her, the barrier you had about yourself slipped. No, you didn’t see a manic woman, nor did you see some form of a psycho. What you saw, mesmerized you. You were entranced. She was truly beautiful. Her white hair gently framed her face, while the sunlight in her room had a cold, blue hue, that you didn’t feel was present anywhere else in the hospital. She had the aura of an apathetic beauty, a flower that was plucked - for even wilting roses had their charm. Her eyes, though, those wonderful eyes. You could tell her deep irises once held the spark of happiness, the spark of hope and care. Yet now, her eyelids hung low, dark circles beneath her lids dragging her visage lower, and her posture as an enervated slouch. It was in that moment when you first laid eyes on her did you truly see who was deep inside the shell of her abused being. She brought you back, brought you back to who you easily could have become—shown you who you would’ve been had you not fought tooth and nail against your resolves. And so, determination flared inside of you. You will help her. You will bring back her spark. No one should fight so alone against something a crowd can’t handle. Thus, even if you’re the only one by her side, you will still be there.

It had taken a couple of months for you to barely disarm her violently defensive walls, but you managed. You always knocked on her door before entering, peering through before stepping into the room. You set up a small stool by her bedside, and every time you came to her you would sit down before getting to your medicinal caretaking. You’d smile, greet her warmly, and tell her silly stories about your day. Tales of the warm old man across the hall, of those pesky UA kids that couldn’t help but fight a little too hard for others. You would go into detail after detail, eyes dancing across the empty walls as you lightly laughed at the memories or clicked your tongue at some of the peskier ones. Although she never responded, you made sure to speak to her every single time.

Furthermore, you were careful, you truly wanted the best for your patients, and she is no different. You were careful when you delicately held the flowers’ stems as you poured in fresh water. You were careful when you gently told her everything you would care for before doing it. ‘I’ll be checking your heart rate, is that okay?’ You’d smile, not even grazing her arm before a sign of confirmation. And it was these careful things you did for Rei that truly made her love you too. Soon, she began to speak. Her voice was delicate and raspy, as she hadn’t used her vocals in such a long time. But still, you smiled at her. Tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you listened to her very first request for a glass of water. Progress is progress. And you were determined to continue it.

From her vaguely written patient file, you had an idea that her husband was the main factor in her descent into your care. But, you were horrified once Rei trusted you enough to spill her heart's deepest sorrows—all caused by her husband. She cried, and oh how her tears fell so quietly it shattered a piece of you that you didn’t know was there. After she began giving you one-worded answers, to replying in whole sentences, her walls soon came down and a woman desperate for help and comfort revealed herself. It broke your heart remembering the number of overtime shifts you’ve spent merely hugging her while she gripped your scrubs. Her arms desperately clinging to you for any minuscule support, her body trembling in the fear that you’ll give up and leave her just as the other nurses did. Those silent tears fell, her muffled cries making you wish you could take away her pain if only for a minute. Every night, that was the scene between you two. And every night, flashbacks of her husband���s cruel words yelled at her from the silence only she could hear. Not only as a nurse, but as a human being, you truly cared. And Rei could feel that sincerity, thus, you two grew close.

Even after Rei exponentially improved, you still tried your best to give her some kind of comfort she could cling to in the emptiness of the hospital’s blank walls. You were so proud of her. She came so, so far in her healing process. And your soul smiled at the thought of her gentle nod whenever you entered her room—she had the misfortune of a hundred lives, and didn’t deserve a single crumb more of difficulties.

So why did fate have the tv running that day?

You ran to her room, the blaring of her EKG racing your mind with worry. It had been long, too long, since her heart raced so. You had gotten used to her health, to her improved state, so how the hell did this happen? When you burst through the door, Rei was slumped on the ground with her hand clawing into her chest as she hyperventilated, her eyes wildly ajarred as her gaze stuck to the screen with tears swelling the corner of her ducts as her lips fell apart in these broken attempts of communication.

'-was born as the eldest son of Endeavour.'

‘Rei! Breathe, breathe, I’m right here for you. Please, what happened?’ You held her comfortingly, rubbing your palm in circular motions upon her back. God, how did this happen? Sorrow wretched your soul when she began to cry harder, frantically looking from the floor before her and the screen upon the tv. She shoved you away with as much force her could muster, you stumbled slightly back, in absolute shock. It had been a while since Rei had a any miniuscle of violence in her outbursts—let alone having an outburst in the first place, and it broke your heart to wonder why it was happening. You could tell her conciousness was slipping from the rapid breaths she choked to take, how her movements became more sluggish. She began to scream, her hands tangling into the hair on the side of her head as she knelt with her face to her knees. You reached into a nearby cabinet, taking a deep breath as you thrashed around the contents until your fingers wrapped about a minor sedative. It pained you, you haven’t had to go to such measures in so long. Your hand firmly on her shoulder, you told her everything was going to be alright before injecting the sedative and keeping your comforting words. 

'I was created for my father's selfish dream.'

‘It’s okay, I’m right here. Don’t worry about a thing, Rei.’ You spoke gently, and her eyelids began weighing down to shut, before she looked deep into your eyes and whispered: ‘T-tell him I’m sorry.’ Your eyes followed her as she tried to look towards the tv. Upon the screen, a man was sitting upon a vintage couch. Throughout his body, horrid patches of purple plastered his skin, barely holding onto his stature with the use of staples, you could see the dip in his surviving skin and the bruised purple from the awful staple job on his body. It looked so painful your skin tingled in discomfort. With such a blatantly iconic look, how could you not recognize the man himself? Dabi. His hair was a messy black, his chin picked up toward the camera, and a darkened gaze of determination and resentment filled his eyes—a stare that would pierce the soul of any viewer.

'-my father would force my mother to give birth to more off-spring.'

How long had his voice been playing in the background? You stared, stared at the TV. You listened, listened to Dabi apathetically recall every horrifying detail Endeavour put his pitiful children through. The same details that had you shaken to insomnia at night when you first heard it through Rei's exasperated cries during her mental break downs. It was awful, Endeavour's actions were horrid. The neglect, the abuse, his cold demeanour, hearing both Rei and now Dabi recount those awful memories made you realize just how cold the air about you became as well - a sudden contrast as though your physical environment darkened from the heavy words Dabi spoke out about. You felt their pain, but you know you could never truly understand it. Not until you had gone through something the exact same, and even then, everyone processes trauma differently. Thus, empathy is such a golden key. The very key that had your shocked visage brim with tears. There wasn't a hint of pain in Dabi's voice, not yet, at least. Yet, you knew that years before, and deep inside his battered body, Touya was will trapped. Crying, begging, trying to crawl his way out. You saw a reflection of Rei in Dabi. The reflection of someone who was in pain but built these sky-high walls to hide any form of vulnerability.

‘Using the blood Endeavour left at the fight in Kyushu,’ his hand propping up a document, ‘there was a 99.99% match.’ 

Truly, it took a while to understand what you heard. Your eyes carefully traced the screen, ears perked up in denial as Dabi described every moment that Rei had described to you. Endeavour, the pain, the abuse, the screaming, the yelling. He recalled it with an absent look of apathy glazed across his face. His eyes reflecting that of an apathetic beauty. A look you recognized from the Rei who first walked into your care. If it weren’t for his unforgiving injuries, he would have been a splitting image of his mother. As you gazed upon his grotesque features, his lips mouthed the same name of the son who Rei prayed so desparately for the return of.

Yet you don’t think her prayers were answered in the best way.

You stared holes into that screen, watching his careful movements, scanning the paper Dabi held in his hands, as you watched his mouth moved it was in that moment that you realized you couldn’t hear. A ringing was blaring in your head as the only sensory you had left was that of sight. Your vision tunnelled, the sides of your perception clouding into black as you silently watched Dabi continue to expose that wretched hero who caused his dear family such tremendous misfortune. Dabi was the same Touya Rei cried to you with gulit over for all these years. The same Touya whos only remains found was a jawbone from the burning forest he died in. The same Touya who fell apart for the sake of his father’s dreams.

How isn’t he dead? It didn’t make any sense. His jaw, how was his jaw found without the rest of him? How had it come off? How did he survive the temperature of those flames being enough to cremate someone alive? Your eyes watched the screen, watched Dabi’s speech continue, that ringing spiking a headache of throbbing pain. Nothing made any sense. And you put your everything into focusing upon the scarred man on the screen so why did this have to happen? Rei was doing so well, it’s not fair, why did this have to happen? She doesnt deserve this to happen she had trued so fucking much. She didn’t deserve this, she was barely healed–

‘Miss Y/N! Is Mrs. Todoroki okay?’ 

Your coworker’s voice snapped you back into reality, and you stammered an apology before carefully placing Rei into her bed and turning off the tv with shaking hands. From the expression on your coworker’s face, you could tell they saw the footage aswell, their eyes nervously tracing to the ajarred cabinet door to the sedatives, understanding the regress in Rei’s stability from this entire situation. 

Sadly, Rei’s instability wasn’t as fleeting as you had hoped. It didn’t take long for Rei to fall apart into the hole she fought so hard to climb out of. With the mantra of angered ex-Endeavor fans accusing her of child abuse, along with the constant paparazzi that flashed bright lights toward her window and posted her tear-struck face all over tabloids, you couldn’t blame her. For days after the incident, you refused to sleep. Staying by her side as she couldn’t rest at all. Although a hospital never sleeps, it still quiets at twilight. But no, not anymore. For even night didn’t tire the fucking protestors. They screamed out, police desparately trying to control the situation, although they were smart. Hugging the gates, not actually on the property of the hospital. Thus, the police couldn’t pull any legalities on them. 

You never left the hospital anymore, every break and after your shifts, you would sit at Rei’s bedside. The aura was both somber and panicked, darkened with the occational sniffles and choked sobs of Rei’s rasped voice. Unlike the usual, you did not speak. You knew the voices in her head had come back now, and if you added your own, Rei wouldn’t be able to hold out any better than she already is. So, the only thing you knew to do was to never leave her alone, and her arms never left your back. You held her in an embrace every night, neither of you sleeping, neither of you talking. Slowly, she began to loosen her hold, gently sleeping a couple minutes a night with her chin resting on your shoulder. Your heart lit with hope, glad she could finally sleep a wink. Before long, she was truly able to fall into a decent slumber, her body resting against yours for a couple hours before she would gasp awake. Slowly but surely, improvement had come. And once Rei’s sleep schedule returned to some extent, you traveled back home to your apartment for the first time in over a week to gather your own well-deserved rest.

You wish you could say your return brought some comfort to you. But truly, the silence was eerie to say the least. Your mind was still worried. Worried that Rei would wake up in the middle of the night, all alone without you there. A part of you missed her already, but your boss became truly worried for your health after the bags under your eyes darkened into a bruise like hue. She demanded you at least go home for a night, and you relented. Truly, your body was giving up, and you needed the rest too.

Your keys twisted inside the lock as you pushed the door open, a familiar creak welcoming you back. You did not feel very welcome. The air was a piercing cold, with all the lights in your apartment off. The fact that it was late into the night did not help, with both an absence of light in your home and no twinkling stars to gaze upon. Everything was pure dark. You sighed, dumping your bag lazily by the door as you kicked off your shoes, taking heavy steps toward your room when you stopped. You stood still, so, so still. From the crack below your closed bedroom door, light bled into the dark hallway. You were scared, truly. You never leave the lights on before leaving, so what was happening here..? Why were the lights on?

A sense of dread filled your body, and you listened carefully. Nothing. No rummaging, no gentle thumps of someone’s steps, just the rays of light dauntingly brightening the floorboards and that white noise of ventilation. Quietly, you walked backward toward the front door, taking shaky breaths as your lungs quivered. You should’ve stayed with Rei. You shouldn’t have come. With how little sleep you had gotten, your mind felt as though you were floating. And obviously, you struggled to form any kind of rational thought about your current predicament. Despite that, you did have one thought. The thought that you must leave. Immediately. You didn’t care for your belongings, your jacket, nor your shoes and keys. All you cared for was to get the fuck out. 

Every pore on the wall felt as though an eye was peering through, watching your pathetically fearful movements. Shivers spiked down your spine and every dark crack of any open door had an imagined silhouette peering through, faces tauntingly smiling to you through the dark. You were panicking.

Your hand gripped the knob, turning it slowly to stiffle it’s persistent creaks before you flung open the door to bolt outside. Your mind raced, breath hitching as steps slapped upon the cement. As you approached a corner, you turned your head back as you kept running—fully expecting the door to fly open and a figure to chase behind you. You couldn’t imagine why you had to have some burglary occur. You didn’t live in an exceptionally poor or rich area, and there were blatant security cameras throughout the building. The more you watched your back, the more you felt a little silly. Nothing came, and you nearly slowed down your bolt as a light chuckle of relief fell before your mouth. You’re safe, your apartment was safe. There’s no threat in your room, obviously, you must’ve forgotten to turn off the lights. You turned the corner as your bolt slowed into a jog. Yet, your momentary relief was short-lived the moment you roughly crashed into something in front of you.

You fell back, falling hard onto your ass with your palms scraping against the unforgiving texture of the floor. Gravel stung, digging into your open skid marks. Athough, that pain was nothing compared to the strike fear over who stood before you. 

The very man upon your tv screen those days before.

The very man who single-handedly wrecked the top two heroes.

Dabi.

He looked down at you, a sickened gaze and smirk plastered over his graphic features. He looked manic, and he was manic. The way he demeaningly leaned down to you, hands dug deep into the pockets of his black slacks, the way he cocked his head to the side, it all made your throat starkly dry. 

‘Why the long face, Y/N?’ You internally gagged, your name sounded so vile on his tongue, in the way his face stared at you with hatred. How does he know your name? What does he want? You stared up at him speechlessly, your jaw falling silent and eyes dropping wide with horror. Your mind raced in confusion. Jumping from one false hope to another, trying to relieve your fear that you might not survive this encounter. Your only connection with Dabi was as the nurse of his mother, was he extrapolating some revenge against her? But why? Endeavour had been the main perpetrator of the abuse, so why are you being dragged into this so mercilessly? You couldn’t think clearly, but you did know one thing. Both of you well knew Rei had barely anything to do with the harm Touya had endured. Yet, here he was. Newly born as Dabi, as the Dabi who stared down at you as though you coddled his worst enemy your whole life.

His hand shot toward your collar, the fabric ripping at certain ends from the sheer force he used to drag you closer to his face. Your hands grappled at his wrist, fingertips digging into his hand before your force hesitated when you latched right onto his staples. You were scared. You were really, really scared. The way his smile grew wider in response to those pathetic tears that welled in your eyes, the way he held you so tightly your windpipe felt as though it was burning in pain. You felt misjudged. Thrown into an undeserving cruelty that you hadn’t even sinned enough to deserve. But obviously, why would a villain care about whether or not you deserved their violence?

‘Why are you so scared? I’m only here to thank you.’ He quirked, eyes wide as he laughed at your pathetic expressions of fear and struggle. ‘You won't die, so don’t be too dramatic.’ He smiled, yet, you didn’t feel comforted. Heck, a part of you here realized how much you wish you could’ve died at this moment. Was living through whatever he was about to put you through better than hell itself?

‘You took care of my dear old mom ever since I left, comforting her all those nights, helping her recover from Mr. Number One.’ His grip tightened, your collar bunching up into his palms, harshly wheezing your throat as you struggled to breathe. You knew no amount of fighting back was going to drain him down to stop. Dabi had you stood completely upright, right up on the tip of your toes as he held the majority of your body weight up by your neck, still leaning forward to truly yell into your face. Even without the threat of his quirk, you’d never stand a fucking chance against him with how he towers over you. You could tell of the venom Dabi had in his recalling of your care as his mother’s nurse, his pupils dialating in fury. Had he felt things were unfair? That he hadn’t had the help Rei needed when he felt so much worse? You tried to be empathetic, trying to find a way so you could make it out alive. But the more Dabi tightened his hold on you, the more you realized you wouldn’t be getting out of this unscathed—far from it, actually.

‘I’m here to repay you. You know? You spent so many years caring for her, so I’ll repay your act of kindness.’ His voice dripped in sarcasm, venom seeping through as his spat out to you right in your face. Suddenly, his expression morphed, his smile churning so wide the staples holding his smile  together began to rip at the corners of his mouth. ‘You know, that stupid woman isn’t the angel you keep treating her to be. Haven’t you seen little Shoto Todoroki? How do you think that scar on his precious face came to be?’ Your breath hitched as his grip tightened, your throat completely wrenched into his lone palm as heat began radiating through his fingers. Don’t listen to him, you told yourself. Rei messed up. She’s wasn’t the best mother. But no one helped her victim until she became the abuser. Shoto didn’t deserve that, neither did Rei deserve the cruelities of Endeavour, and nor did Touya deserve a crumb of the pressure he underwent. Can’t he understand that nearly everyone in this situation is some form of a victim? You felt frustrated trying to hold your tongue back against this man. He was blinded by rage, a rage that began rationally and morphed into something villianously sinister. It made you feel frustrated. He pitied himself too much. Everyone was struggling, Shoto and Rei too, so why was he so upset with you helping someone who needed to be helped?

‘You people disgust me. You save whoever the fuck you want, but leave the people who really need it out to burn up in a forest.’ You shook your head, shutting your eyes tightly in denial to his cruel accusations. You wanted to yell. Yell how stupid his words were, how tunnelled his thinking was. Dabi is being selfish. Yet, despite your anger, you were still striken with fear. You understood you were in no place to speak your mind, yet your words just spilled out in a frenzy.

‘You’re so linear.’ You said shakily, furrowing your eyebrows and trying to wrench your windpipe out of his grip so you could just barely breathe. ‘Rei was hurt too, she’s n-no angel, but she’s not such a demon either.’ You spoke quietly, but considered how you were choked up into the air it was remarkably impressive you could even get a peep out. Dabi seemed to only become amused, an upset form of amusement. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mainly from the physical agnoy, but moreso now that his palm began to luminate blue and heat up.

You were going to die over your fat tongue.

Your crying only seeming to fuel him even more as his smile ripped even wider. ‘I’m sorry— I didn’t mean it badly–‘ You panically wept. His eyes narrowed, a sense of absolute euphoria over the position of power he had. He felt so cocky, you know? He just ruined two of the top heroes’ careers and now he’s taking away the only support and comfort from his shitty mom. His revenge has just fucking started. He nonchalantly dropped your body onto the floor as he adjusted to stand straight. You crumbled to your knees, your hands flying to your throat as you wretched and coughed out. Your neck was painful to the touch, throbbing as you felt the bruise of his grip develop. Suddenly, he knelt down to one knee, looking at you with an unimpressed expression. 

‘Don’t be so fucking dramatic. Be grateful you’re alive.’ He spat, his tone unforgiving. You sobbed, trying your best to sniffle your crying as you bit down on your lip and shut your eyes tightly—too stuck in horror to look at whatever the fuck your current situation was. From the fear of death you just had, you nearly wanted to thank him for sparing your life. Your hands violently shaking as you refused to look up to him, parts of you begging that this was all some bad trip. Suddenly, he laughed. He began to laugh, growing louder and more insane. You stopped breathing, opening your eyes to see him heaving in absolute exhilaration. 

‘Don’t do that,’ He was profoundly euphoric, ‘you’re reminding me too much of how I cried to dear old Endeavour. What, are you trying to send me down memory lane?’ He finally calmed down a little, smiling at you as you knelt before him, fucking speechless. Your relief was immediately drowned out in the panic of what he was trying to do. He reached out, shoving his thumb into your mouth and forcing your jaw open. Taking his other hand, he forced two fingers down your throat without a shred of care. You gagged, grabbing his wrist and digging your nails into his skin as you felt a pill sink into being forced down into your body as he kept his fingers deep in your throat. Eyes wide as you tried to fight him off, jaw stiffening as you prepared to bite down on him. He stared you down warningly, his breaths deepening and hand warming on your jaw. You sobbed, relenting and loosening your grip on his wrist, shutting your eyes tightly. You felt a tear gently trickle down your cheek, it felt warm against your face. But not as warm as the threatening hand on your neck that wouldn't hesitate to burn. Dabi let go, standing up as you coughed out, feeling the pill stay stuck deep in your throat as you tried your best to ignore it. He lazily dragged his hand across your face, wiping your spit off his hand. You started to cry. Sobbing as quietly as you could as you heard. You could tell he was truly annoyed, clicking his tongue as he took heavy steps away from you - but still keeping a close enough distance to burn you alive if you tried to run away. You felt frustrated. What had you done to deserve this? What did he drug you with? Your panic made you hallucinate awful symptoms of the pill. The world began feeling dizzy, your head becoming light, ad your thoughts racing drunkenly. Although, rationally, you knew that you hadn't even digested the pill yet, so you tried your best to calm yourself down before the pill's effects would truly take place.

You didn't realize Dabi had taken his space between you two to take a quick call until he hung up, shoving his phone deep into his pocket before he looked back to you with a bored expression. 'Are you done crying?' He was annoyed. From the expression of apathy and boredom on his face, he resembled a tired dad sick of his children throwing a tantrum over every little thing. The way he looked down at you felt demeaning, and you felt your body shrink a little down into the core of your bruised heart. You wanted to stand up, your legs numb from being forced down to kneel this entire time. Yet, the fear you held over being burnt from any sudden movement kept you scarily still.

'Get up.' There wasn't a shred of care in his voice, but from the way he tangled his fingers in your hair, dragging you forward by it until you were knelt up awkwardly by his side like a dog, you weren't surprised by his verbal violence. Let alone his physical violence. You grabbed his hand, trying to ease the burning pain against your scalp. It felt as though your hair would rip from the root if he pulled just a little harder. Your eyes darted around, confusion to why he propped you up to him so closely. Was there some threat? Was something about to happen? You felt your heart pounding through your blouse, so loud it resonated inside your head. But, it didn't matter how much your scalp burned in pain. It didn't matter how your palms were still scraped open from your initial fall. It didn't matter how you had roughly fifteen minutes before that pill would digest. What did matter was that by the end of those fifteen minutes, you needed to be away from him and whatever he had planned for you. As though Dabi sensed your change in mood from fear to determination, his hand began to heat up.

'If you want to die, go ahead and try what you want. If not, stay down like the trash you are.' You felt the hope you built up crumble, maybe it was from Dabi's words. But mainly, it was from the literal crumble of the ground and roads in front of your apartment building. The way the earth caved in on the infamous stone-like creature that bulldozed through half of Japan—Gigantomachia of the League of Villians. His body was confined down so his brutish face was mere feet away from yours. His eyes were a glinted yellow, so much so they didn't resemble eyes in the slightest—moreso like large fragments of amber-filled or gold his sclera. You watched in horror as large rubbles of the road slipped down Machia's spikes, cracking their area of impact once they fell. Light after light turned on in your neighboring apartments, people opening their doors with pissed-off expressions darkened with eyebags. Looking to curse out whatever fool decided to make such a loud fuss in the middle of the night. Unsurprisingly, as the beast merely turned his head in their direction, and person after person ran out of their homes in wide-eyed fear.

Dabi rolled his eyes, unimpressed at their pathetic attempts at an escape. He raised his palm, flames bursting out from the center as screams of pain erupted. You stared in horror as the people you'd politely smile to every day burnt up before your eyes. You didn't plan it. Your arms reached up and grabbed Dabi's forearm to pull it down into our chest. You cringed when the flame lightly skimmed your shoulder, yet our grip on his arm remained iron. You refused to let people die right in front of you.

'What the fuck are you doing?!' He yelled, his flames dissipating as you watched a minuscule bunch run away safely. Dabi shoved you hard into the ground, glaring down at you in absolute annoyance. Yet you returned his glare, looking up at him with resentment. 'Fine, you wanna die? Go ahead.' He aimed his palm in your direction, a twinge of flames hurling out. Without a doubt, you were scared. You were scared of dying, scared of never seeing your loved ones again, and scared of the sorrow your death would cause. You hadn't had the impact you wished to have yet, yet here you were, about to die before barely making a dent of meaning in your life. But in that fear, you felt angry. Angry that you were being relentlessly harmed over helping someone who needed it, angry that Dabi would mercilessly burn the innocent without hesitation, and angry that he was mad at you over trying to save them. He was so unreasonable.

'God! Can you quit it?! I understand your pain, and I understand where you're coming from. But those people aren't Endeavour, Rei, or whoever else you hate! They didn't do anything to deserve being killed over, just like you didn't do anything to deserve what you went through as a kid. So why are you hurting them?!' You glared at him, adjusting your posture so you were sitting upright, a hand soothing the blistering burn on your shoulder. His flames fizzled out, and you saw his eyes widen. He was silent, still. As though for both of you, time stopped. You heard desperate steps fade away into the background, rubble from Machia falling upon the grass, and the sizzles of Dabi's flames eating away the fresh corpses that littered the scene about you two. His expression was apathetic, you couldn't read him. Yet, you felt his mind racing, before his palm picked up and slapped you, hard, right across your face.

'You understand me? Is that what you fucking said?' He was absolutely livid. You could hear the absolute anger in his voice, yet a soft smile spread across his lips. Your cheek felt stung, warm, and you were absolutely speechless. For some reason, him slapping you across your face felt more painful than the burn on your shoulder and the scrapes on your palms combined. It was the way he looked down at you. Down at you with absolute fury, as though you were a senseless fool. 'Don't you dare say you understand me when you haven't gone through what I did.' You could tell he wanted to kill you in that moment. You flinched when he reached out to you, expecting this to be your final moment. Instead, he threw you over his shoulder and jumped onto Machia's back, being dragged away to god knows where. You looked up to his face, catching a glimpse of his thumb wiping a droplet of blood from the corner of his eyes before wiping it onto his sleeve. Did he become injured? Or was that a common occurance? Truly, you shouldn't care. He had just battered you, violently dragging you upon the back of a rocky beast, and yet here your nursing instincts slapped you across the face to anaylze his aid.

Quickly, your brief confusion, or worry, for Dabi fell apart as you realized your legs couldn't feel the aggressive breeze of the wind against it's skin. You fought to move, to adjust your stature, yet you felt as though your nerves were burning, fighting against an invisble force that kept you scarily limp and still. Your heart began to pound in your chest, heavy breaths shaking your lungs as you nearly began to weep over what awful drug Dabi had foresaken onto you earlier. You felt constrained, uncomfortable, a distant tingle of pain tracing about the entirety of your skin as you tried to fight the stunt in your lower half. Your legs. Your legs were paraylzed. Your mind raced a mile a minute, heart dropping deep into your stomach. This isn't fair. It's not fair. You felt as though your life has fallen so far you couldn't even hear it's impact on the floor so down below. No resonating echoes, nothing. And that nothing was not at all what you deserved. You hand quivered, tracing across your shin to your thigh. It felt as though you traced your hand on another body, or a piece of your body that was no longer attached. You were disturbed, trying to keep your sanity together as your temples and eyes burned with frustrated tears. It wasn't until a tear hit your thigh, and you didn't even feel it, did you truly begin to break down.

Everything is a fucking mess.

[dj-paintpony]

My Yuusona and SOME OF, My TWST oc’s!

I’m realizing now that I don’t think I’ve shown or shared anything about my Yuusona, so here goes!

Yume is a young woman from (normal world), who got pulled into Twisted Wonderland! She gets along well with most of the main students. (I want to give her a love interest but I can’t decide who because I love all the characters a lot…even though Deuce is my favorite…)

I initially wanted to post this after creating individual drawings of her with the characters…but it was taking awhile, so I took a lil break. I’ll share them when I’ve drawn them💖.

Yume lives in the Ramshackle dorm with all female students, Grim, (and a ghost from before ramshackle was closed, but we’ll get to that), because Crowley doesn’t want to mix girl students into the other dorms for the risk of the girls possibly getting harassed.

Yume is very gentle, almost motherly in her demeanor (cof cof mom friend), and friendly. She isn’t shy to speak her mind, but she does have severe self image issues due to having been chubby as a kid, and still wearing plus size clothes. She has stretch marks on her tummy, thighs and her upper arms. If someone were to say they liked her, she would feel confused, and almost bitter, because she thinks she’ll never live up to expectation.

In her world, she lived with her single mother and her older sibling, Yuri.

Yume loves singing, and gets along very well with every teacher except the coach, because her asthma keeps her from being able to catch up, which makes him frustrated since nearly everyone else can keep up…she’s actually a really fast runner, but can only go short bursts of time without having a severe asthma attack…

Yume’s hair typically stays at shoulder length. She actually struggles with anxiety and depression, but tries her best to always act like things are okay to not be a burden.

unfortunately Yume can also be a little oblivious when she’s legitimately happy. So for instance when Deuce accidentally cursed himself to be a cat, she didn’t realize it was him until Ace said something.

Yume is a great cook, and learned all she knows from her momma, and likes to experiment in the kitchen, often making ridiculous or tasty snacks.

Meet Rael, the TWST equivalent to Rapunzel. She’s a good natured And gentle woman, but will not hesitate to stand up for her friends if they’re wronged. She lives with her grandmother..

LESBIAN CHICK!💖

Would’ve ended up in pomefiore but Crowley decided all women were gonna end up in Ramshackle.

Doesn’t get along with Beau.

Adores Yume. Yume doesn’t realize though.

Her specialty magic is “Forsaken”, in which the effected person will be temporarily blinded, and feel afraid, alone and unable to move. It will feel like years have passed, leaving them traumatized. Rael has accidentally used this power on herself after her adoptive mother passed away.

Likes to teach Yume about magic, despite Yume being Magic-less.…

Rael enjoys wearing cute and fashionable clothes, but prefers clothes that are breathable.💖

Twisted from Jasmine

Prefers to go by Javi.

Specialty magic is “Beast Tamer”, enabling him to calm any agitated animals in the vicinity.

Avoids Yume because he’s afraid of Beau, which only makes Yume sad…(which in turn pisses Beau off more🤣)

Javi is Asexual.

Yume loves cold weather!

now to meet the Ghost I previously mentioned…it’s about to get sad😣💔

Twisted from the beast

Was murdered in the ramshackle dorm, which is why it was abandoned. (Murdered by one of  coach’s dead relatives)

Calls Yume “Beauty of mine” (hint at beauty & the beast), “Love”, “Dearest”, “Angel”, and “My dream”.

Specialty magic is “Haunted”, where the effected person falls into a deep sleep, allowing Beau to take control of their dream, and twist it into a horrific nightmare.

Yandere ghosty boi.

Doesn’t like Grim much, often calling him “pest”, “raccoon”, and “mangy fleabag”. He still doesn’t like the fact a monster was allowed into the school, and was accepted, when he was abused, assaulted, bullied, and killed by his peers.

So far is only intensely aggressive with Epel. He feels like Epel might replace him.

Was an illegitimate child and abused by his father, as well as at school.

Is still incredibly bitter that his mother passed away alone because he was murdered because people felt he “didn’t belong” at night Raven due to his birth.

Since meeting Yume, the first person to ever like him, he has become possessive, but sunny and warm, rather than quiet and ashamed of his existence.

Has moments of violent wishes, wanting to destroy others for Yume’s sake, if they ever make her cry, infiltrating their dreams. Leona has had many nightmares because of this, unfortunately…

Loves helping Yume with her schoolwork.

Beau is pansexual.

Now, I was feeling tired and bored, so I found Pinterest outfits and chucked them at Epel, Yume & Ace. Yume only like dressing up if someone is with her, or if her stretch marks are hidden.

——

thank you so much for reading my rambling information about my characters and her relationships with them. I’ll be back with more about my sonas and stuff later!💖💖💖

[that-one-pretty-bitch]

( A/n: Y/n is toxic/ manipulative and Max is obsessive, a true match made in hell )

Warnings: Manipulation, yandere, mentions of murder, toxicity 

@forbidden-sunlight​ will make a less toxic version of the reader soon as well, I enjoyed working on this with her but if toxic main characters really aren’t your thing, I would suggest reading her version instead of mine

A lady all in red sat elegantly upon her ‘throne’, she would one day rule a kingdom full of wealth and prosperity. Alongside her sat a man in all black, her fiancé and future emperor, Max, sparing not a single glance at her. He was far too embarrassed to face her, while she read a letter he had sent her out loud.

“My dearest, Y/n,” she read, shifting herself slightly and fixating her posture, she continued, his face flushing red at her tone that intended to mock him.

“You make my days better by simply gracing me with your presence,” She let out a slow laugh, as she smoothed the paper out.

“You give me a reason to look forward to living, you are my will to continue living in this god forsaken world and I will never let you leave me,” She read, smirking

“Whatever would you do if I left you, Max?” She asked, cupping his face in her hands, her fingernails digging into the flesh of his skin, crimson liquid dropped from his chin as her grip tightened.

“Max,” She ordered, “It's incredibly rude to disregard the orders of a lady,” She shifted her gaze and stared directly into his blood red eyes.

“Won’t you answer my question?” She taunted

“I would destroy everything on sight,” He spoke, low and dangerous, there was a tone to his voice that was unsettling, even for someone like Y/n. Ignoring the shivers she felt, she waved her fan at him, as a manner of dismissing him.

He shot up and towered over Y/n who remained seated, instead of walking away, he walked towards her and placed his head around her arms and gently placed her hand on his cheek, pressing his hand on top of hers.

“Say.. Max, have you heard of Ian’s disappearance?” Y/n asked abruptly as she waved the letter over his face

“This letter is one of my favorites,” She laughed as she traced the words of the letter with her fingers

“Would you like to know why?” She forced her hand off his face, only to be met with the face of the annoyed man.

“Oh goodness, you're this exasperated simply because I moved my arm?” She smirked, as she placed her hand on his face again only for her to take it off.

Her arm was seized by Max, he gripped onto her wrist tightly, showing no intent of letting go, ever.

He forced her wrist to his lips and kissed, looking down at her he asked

“And why would this letter be your favorite?” Max asked her, clearly amused

“The ink is quite lovely, mind I ask you where you obtained it from?” She looked up at him, her eyes glinting with evil

“My minister brou-”

“Don’t you lie to me, I know where you got this, I’m not naive,” She whispered slowly

“What are you implying?” Max furrowed his eyebrows

“I have asked first, it's quite rude to answer an inquiry by another, is it not?” She forced her wrist out of his hand and placed a gloved hand under her chin.

“I have killed Ian,” Max answered truthfully

“Was it truly that hard to tell me truth?” Y/n hummed

“I’m proud of you Max, you have finally embraced your true nature,” Y/n spoke lazily

Proud…? She was proud of him? That felt good, he would kill any man who would dare approach her with lust in their eyes.

She would be proud of him then.

[ein-liebloser-wanderer]

hello there! would you be willing to write some hcs for forsaken murderer? :D (lobotomy corp btw)

Ahahaha, I was expecting this request to come up sooner. Who could possibly forget about our local homicidal psycho?

⸸ T-01-54 (The Forsaken Murderer) ⸸

(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I turned a yangire into a yandere. OOC and fanon are to be expected)

Warning: gore, graphic depiction of blood, hermatolagnia

Contains: auditory hallucinations (canon and fanon), antisocial behavior, sadism

(Don't click if you don't like seeing blood or knives.)

"The researchers wanted to know if innate evil existed. He proved it."

⸸ If one were to ask him if he deserved what he had become—and he had the coherence to understand the question—he would say 'yes'.

⸸ He had murdered, tortured, and found gratification in the suffering of others, and he would gladly do it again should the opportunity for it arise. If it wasn't clear yet, he didn't regret a single thing.

⸸ So, yes. He deserved the inhumane experiments he was put through. However...

⸸ What these 'scientists' did was worse than anything he could have possibly done. In their curiosity, they had turned him into an Abnormality, a creature doomed to live for all of eternity, trapped within the hellscape that was the human mind.

⸸ Even more amusing was how they try to cover up their monstrosity with the excuse of helping humanity. 'The search for a cure', they call it.

"They didn't even know what they were trying to cure, so were they really any better than him?"

⸸ As a human, he already hated everything. Hatred fueled his existence, but ever since those scientists 'saved' him from death row, Lobotomy Corporation began to hold a very special place in his corrupted heart.

⸸ His darling, whoever unfortunate soul they were, won't be exempt from his undiscriminating bloodlust.

⸸ After all...only a thin line existed between hatred and love, and for someone who had lost themselves a long time ago, the two weren't even distinguishable anymore.

⸸ See how he loves Instinct work with low level employees? I imagine it would work the same way with his darling. To be looked at with fear was just the stroke needed for his withering mind.

⸸ Any rational person would know that he was incapable of hurting anyone with all the restraints put on him. Still, it helps to know that he could still incite fear into those around him. It helps

⸸ Attachment work is fine. He used to be human after all (even if his idea of 'bonding' seems problematic). But the moment they get too comfortable, the moment they even look at him with pity...

⸸ The metallic ringing in his head would return. The voices would speak much louder than the warning trumpets playing throughout the entire facility, and in his delusion, he wouldn't even realize that he had breached.

⸸ The true tragedy of this story was that his darling thought they were safe just because he felt any sort of affection for them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of all the Abnormalities, he's probably the one I liked less ever since Ruina came out. His flavour text in LoR made him look softer and tragic rather than 'bloodthirsty' and 'maniacal'.

But, just for the sake of complying with what I interpret as the canon Forsaken Murderer, I still tried to make him somewhat sympathetic.

[sakuraryomen01]

"Baby, Please." |Yandere! Ghostface! Toji X Reader| FEMALE VERSION

~~

☆ Warnings: Dub-con/Verge of Non-con, knife kink, blood kink, choking kink, thigh riding, Dilf themes, dacryphilia, voyeurism, dom! Toji, yandere! Toji, mentions of death (Gojo, Suguru), slight Gojo x reader/ Suguru x reader, mentions of some past cheating, belly bulging, slight cockwarming, hair pulling, affectionate dilf (???), manipulation, controlling themes, rough sex, possessive! Toji, ex-boyfriend Gojo, clit torture, size kink, cervix bruising, cervix fucking, slight breeding kink, oral (fem recieveing), squirting

Reader: Female Reader

- Male Version ￫ Here

- Non-Binary Version ￫ Here

☆ Plot: Drabble/One shot, Smut

☆ Words: 3.95k

A/n: I saw the new Scream movie and have been in a Toji simp mood for the last 24 hours so this was just *french kiss* ✨ perfect ✨

~~

Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy!

Heart pumping blood through your veins, the sound of the thumping almost deafening as you rushed inside your house. No doubt in your mind that the killer was behind you with that knife covered in blood.

Who was it? Why were you the target? Your mind raced with questions as tears streamed down your red cheeks.

Finding a closet and diving inside, you choked on a scream as a body of someone fell onto your back. The scent of blood and metal filled your nose as your eyes burned with fresh tears. Pushing the door open again, you stumbled out and looked down at the person's body only for your throat to tense at the identity.

Gojo..?

His normally shiny blue eyes are foggy and unclear with death as blood poured from the deep gash on his throat. White hair tinted with the crimson liquid and sticking to his forehead, his clothes ripped to shreds. It looked like it was personal, but you couldn't process it.

How could Gojo Satoru, of all people, be dead?

Covering your mouth, you whimpered as you tripped from your ex's body until you managed to find an empty bedroom and lock the door with your eyes blown wide.

"Oh, you're so cute when you're scared, kitten," The voice of the murderer cooed from the other side, making you cry.

"Leave me alone.. please!!" You sobbed, the sounds of their foot trying to kick down the door echoing in your head.

You wanted to cry, call for help, do something to make this nightmare end, but you couldn't. The phone lines were cut, and you were at a house with no neighbors to notify or alert. And the city was a two hour drive alone, but all the cars were locked or didn't start up which left you stranded.

Leave me alone. Let me live, I don't want to die!!

"C'mon, doll~ Open the door!!" They yelled, the door's middle already seeming to crack under the repetitive force.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!!" You cried, curling into a fettle position on the ground and covering your neck and head.

Make it stop! Make it end!!

The sound of splintering wood made your shivering stop, hearing the loud thumps of their boots hit the floor. Looking up, you watched as the killer pushed the chair to the ground, unlocking the knob once his hand was through and pushed open the door.

The sight of the ghost face mask came into your view, blood running cold at the tall figure, and your tears stopped.

"Well, hello, kitten." They chuckled, stepping forward to your crouched figure.

Kneeling down and perching their elbows on their knees, looking at eye level with you. A chuckle leaving their mouths as small drops of blood dripped onto the floor from the god forsaken knife they carried.

"Wh-Who are you..?" You voice echoed, your nerves numb as they cocked their head to the side slightly.

"Don't recognize me?" They asked in return, to which you shook your head. "Well of course you wouldn't; your eyes were trained on that man-whore of a boyfriend, Gojo Satoru."

You flinched, mind racing with that break up; remembering the reason you left him. He cheated on you with some skank that had her eyes on him for months, but it was months ago. Months had gone by, but you were still hung up on him.

"Oh, love, don't look so heartbroken," The killer cooed, raising their hand up to pinch your chin.

"You don't need to worry about that prick ever again, okay? I'm here; I'm here to make you feel loved, wanted, cherished.. Everything that he or that emo boy ever will."

"Suguru-?!" You choked, your lungs burning from lack of air.

"Yeah, him!" They cackled, dropping the knife and lifting their hand to their mask. "Suguru Geto, right? Well, I took care of that little pervert for you, so don't worry, kitten."

"Stop calling me that." You spat, your brows furrowed. "He wasn't a pervert, and Gojo doesn't mean shit to me."

"Oh I'd hope so, otherwise, we'd have a little problem.."

Your breath hitched in your throat; green eyes glaring daggers into your soul as the mask dropped to the floor and joined the knife. The face of Toji Fushiguro with a devilish, scarred smile filled your sight, your heart stopping in fear and sorrow.

His smile seemed to tease you, your cheeks heated at the sight of him, but your brain was screaming "No!"

"Toji..?" You mumbled, tears streaming down your cheeks again.

"Oh, don't cry, baby~" He cooed, rubbing his thumb over the small bead. "You don't need to anymore, I'm here to keep you safe."

Standing, Toji pulled you up along with him, smiling at the looks of fear in your eyes. Grabbing his knife again, he ran the blade over your jawline and down your neck, giggling to himself at the bloody trail that seemed to follow due to the previous killings.

"I've waited too long for that fear, kitten." Toji bit his lower lip, bringing the knife lower and lower to your collarbone.

"I knew that once I found out that your 'boyfriend' went astray, I'd have a good reason to take him out. And that Geto boy, he was just a pathetic pervert that couldn't take his shot with you since you thought of him as nothing but a friend."

Sure, Gojo cheated on you, but that wasn't a good reason to kill him. And Geto wasn't a pervert; he was a quiet, though sometimes a really dramatic, friend that you confided in throughout most of your sadness over losing Gojo and in general.

Though the anger in Toji's eyes at the mentioning of your friend and ex made your heart stop and it kept you quiet.

"They were both just little flies," He muttered, a grimace forming. "Roaches that needed to be squashed."

With that, Toji shoved you over, your limp body hitting a wall before his strong build stopped you from falling to the ground. A deep laugh left Toji's chest, a proud glimmer in his eyes as he lifted your face up by the chin once again.

"And now? You're all. Fucking. Mine."

Dipping his head lower, he pressed his warm lips to yours in a firm kiss. His tongue worked around and played with yours as you struggled against his hold on your waist. The taste of metal soon filling your mouth as a muffled scream left you as Toji bit down on your tongue.

"Mm..~" He cooed, licking his lips of the blood and smiling down at you. "Tasty, love."

"Fuck you." You growled, glaring up at him as if your eyes were to burst.

"You can do that, if you wish."

Toji glanced back at the bed that sat in the middle of the room and smirked, his teeth dragging against his lower lip once again as he returned his focus onto you again. Pulling you by the arm over to the mattress, he tossed you like a rag doll and climbed onto the bed with you.

Your small form dwarfed by his while he caged your arms above your head with a single hand.

Toji's eyes glued to yours with a fire burning behind them, the feeling of the knife grazing your outer thigh sent shivers up your spine. Closing your eyes, you bit down on your lip until you tasted blood as the metal traveled up your thigh and to your hip, where it pressed down until a cut was made.

"Such a little girl like you shouldn't be treated the way you were." Toji whispered, leaning down to pepper kisses on your neck. "Don't worry though, I'll take care of my little doll personally."

Kissing up to your jaw, Toji pulled the knife from your wound and replaced it with his hand. The firm grip he had on your waist, pressing you into the mat, made you quiver. His tongue lolled out of his lips and ran up your jugular, teeth nibbling on your flesh until Toji lifted himself up again.

"God, you're such a cutie.." He praised, pressing his knee flush against your heat. "And you're all mine~! I couldn't be any happier.."

Muffling your retorts, you glared up at him, which only seemed to spur him on further. His hand squeezed your cut, making you wince and close your eyes. But he eventually let go of the wound and traced his fingertips over your tummy and pressed down on your abdomen.

"I wonder.." Toji started, soon letting his hand travel northward to your breasts and cupping the underside of the lace bra.

“Could I make your belly bulge with enough of my cum?”

The thought made your heart skip, in a twisted and fucked up, kind of way. And even though you despised the idea of Toji's cock inside of you, your cunt twitched with want. The need to be touched and played with as Toji's knee grinded and pressed against your clit deliciously.

The murderous male noticed your squirming, and smiled. "Do you like that idea? My cock pummeling your cute little hole til I breed you?"

“Of course, fucking, not!” You yelled, your brows furrowing in anger. “You’re a disgusting, perverted asshole! Why in the fuck would I want to be fucked by you?”

"Your cunt is telling me so." Toji smiled, lifting your shirt and exposing your bra and torso to him. "And by the looks of it, you want to be fucked by me."

Grinding his knee harder, you pressed your head into the mattress and stopped the moans that wanted to leave and prove him right. Though, despite your denial, Toji's thigh was hitting your clit just right. Pressing against your pleasure point and teasing it every so often until he removed it and spread your thighs apart.

"You-" Glaring down at him, watching as Toji's hand went down to explore your nethers.

Slipping his thumbs into your waistband, he tugged on your jeans until they fell off. Though, as a last ditch effort, you reached your hand up to push him off. But he caught your hand and forced it down, the grip on your wrist hurt like a bitch, and you wouldn't be surprised if there was a bruise later on.

"Don't you ever, do that again," Toji threatened, picking up the discarded knife and lifting it to your neck.

Your eyes widened, feeling the cold metal against your jugular once again as you looked up into those killer eyes. Toji's brows furrowed together, his nostrils flared and a steady pace of his breath telling you that you've fucked up.

"Raise your hand to me again and I'm cutting it the fuck off. Do you understand, little kohai?"

"Y-Yes.. Toji.." The knife pressed down again, but not enough pressure was added to create a fatal wound, before it was placed back down onto the mattress next to your hip.

"Good!" Toji smiled, kissing down your tummy and to your inner thighs, rubbing circles on your skin as he got closer to your heat. "I don't want to cut up the cutest baby girl in the world."

Situating himself between your thighs, Toji leaned forward and pressed his lips against your clothed pussy. His nose pressed against your clit in an almost teasing way until the pressure left as Toji's lips moved north.

You kept your mouth shut, desperately trying to keep your moans and whimpers in your throat as Toji worked your cunt even through your clothes.

Pushing your panties to the side, Toji dipped his pointer into the sloppy mess of your folds and rubbed circles around your clit with his thumb. Your quiet mewling soon being released as you couldn't take it anymore; He was so good, it was illegal to be able to touch someone this way.

"You like this, hm?" Toji asked, pressing on your clit before lowering his fingers and teasing your quivering entrance.

"M-Mmh.." Pressing your head into the bed, you looked to the side and screwed your eyes shut. "Sh-Shut up, you fucker- A-Ahh!!"

"Don't be all bratty on me, baby.."

Slipping the tip of his finger into your hole, Toji removed his thumb from your clit and replaced it with his lips. Sucking on the bundle of nerves and licking around the swelling bud. Your slick coating his tongue as you squirmed and practically cried under his mouth.

"Such cute noises, keep making them." He smiled, bullying your clit as his pointer and ring finger eased their way inside.

This slow burning torture was making you go mad; wanting to cum, to run away, to hump Toji's face until your orgasm hits you. Feeling his thick, rough fingers curling in your spongy walls and hitting that special spot just right inside you that would make you squirt so easily.

Toji's tongue circled your clit repeatedly until you came, and he sucked up your juice like it was his favorite drink. Coming up after he cleaned you, he looked up at you and smirked, seeing the dizzy expression you didn't even realize you had.

"Did it feel that good?" He teased, lifting your legs around his hips. "Let's see the damage, yeah?"

Pressing his finger to your slit again, he gently pushed until your hole ate him up. Toji groaned quietly at the tight squeeze he earned when he curled his fingers. Before the warmth could get to his head, he undid his lower garments and pulled them off.

His cock sprung forward, slapping your inner thigh and making him laugh.

"M-Mmm.. fucking-" You muttered, looking away and choking on a breath.

How the fuck was he even going to fit? The girth alone was going to make you cry at how much it was going to stretch you. But that didn't seem to bother Toji in the slightest, cuz he just pumped his fist a few times and lubed it with his drool before placing the head against your entrance.

"So," He mumbled, leaning down and kissing your neck, grabbing the knife again. "Are you going to disobey me again when I start moving? Or are you going to be a good girl for me and take your pounding?"

"Go to hell." You uttered, biting your tongue with a sharp thrust into your pussy made you clench.

Each groove of his cock made you want to spasm, the feeling of his pulsing veins against your plush walls had your cunt throbbing. His pink tip hitting your cervix with a deafening force, the heat of his cum slicking up your insides made you writhe underneath his fit body. Feeling for his biceps, your nails dug into the cloth of Toji's tacky costume and just barely being able to cut the actual fabric.

"Shit, girlie.. You really must've needed a fat cock to get you to behave, huh?" Toji teased, a sharp thrust emphasizing his words and making you see stars.

Though the slight sting in discomfort had your eyes welling with tears, Toji noticed quickly and lifted his gloved hand up to wipe the escaping droplets. A small smile on his face as he leaned down and pecked your lips, his warm tongue parting your lips and slipping into your warm mouth.

You could taste your own juices on the wet muscle as he worked it around, feeling out your mouth and moaning to the taste.

"So fucking long, I had to wait for this," Toji released you lips and headed for your neck, sucking and tugging at your skin as he pressed down on your wrists.

"You should've been mine from the beginning, but you kept chasing after that annoying brat. Fucking pretty boy took what was mine and he got what he deserved for breaking your perfect heart."

Toji paused for a moment to rip off the rest of his get-up before hooking your leg over his arm and tossing it up to his shoulder. The new angle letting him hit places you didn't think Gojo could ever before; the obvious difference in size making you cry out in forced pleasure and pain.

Stretching to accommodate such a size made your lower tummy ache, a bulge making it obvious where the male was in your gut.

"My fucking pussy, my fucking girl, my fucking everything!" Toji pummeled the very being out of your hole, abusing the power he had over you by bringing a hand down and slapping the fat of your ass.

"You're mine, got it? Mine, no one else's."

"T-Toji, stop-!" You sobbed, the burning in your tummy becoming too much as you squirted all over his abdomen.

He watched with a large grin as you undid underneath him, pressing your leg down and hitting even deeper. That knot forming in your tummy as you slowly reached an orgasm that would knock your need to walk for a month, Toji insuring it by slapping your ass over and over.

Bruising strength it each strike until he stopped and palmed the heated flesh, dragging a nail over the welps and lumps sure to form.

"Got you squirtin' on my cock, eh?" He asked, gripping your hips with a bruising force.

"Like it? I made sure that I took care of my body so that you'd enjoy it. God, but I wasn't ready for your- fuck -tight pussy clamping down around me like this. Jesus, fucking Christ -You must love how my dick feels if you're squeezing so good for me, little kitten."

"F-Fuck you, shit, fuck you! A-Ahh, mm-!!" You moaned, clawing at Toji's shoulders and drawing blood.

Sneering at the pain, Toji groaned a final time before forcing another climax out of you, cumming inside your puffy walls and rocking his hips. The bed ruined, despite barely being touched, and your hair damp and sticking to your forehead. A chuckle left the murderous male as he took a good, long look at your trembling figure.

"Look at that," He smiled, eyeing your connected bodies and dipping his finger into the warmth of your velvety heat.

"Cunny's dripping with my cum. Bet it tastes just as good as it looks."

Pulling his cock free from your pulsing insides, he dipped his head down to taste as promised and soon brought out another load from you with his lips and tongue. The gentle pulsing of your clit and cunt made Toji laugh when he sat back up, his big chest heaving slightly.

"Can't wait to get you home and go all night, kitten."

[ Thank you for reading my first drabble! ]

Honestly had lots of fun writing this, even though it felt a little rushed at the ending, but whatever.

(I really had some time thinking about my actual kinks writing this shit so- 💀)

~ UPDATES:

Lost Lamb is getting updated sometime soon, along with a part two to an older Sukuna x Reader (try and guess ^^)

Property of sakuraryomen01™

Please do not steal, copy or repost onto any other platform.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Reader is in twisted wonderland

Dear lilia,

You always somehow bright up my days, time seems to go by faster whenever we're together and I can't help but find myself falling in love with you more each day while I think 'how is it possible to love someone so much?' and I realized you were the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, so Lilia Vanrouge I would kneel but this is a letter- will you please marry me ? 💍💞

To be honest, the letter is on the shorter side. That doesn't mean that I won't give my best (and also... this got me in the feels *sobs happily*. Yes, I am a romantic.)

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, blood, murder, mutilation, death, religion, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior

Lilia Vanrouge-Finding happiness

Sitting down at the desk in the canteen you were about to eat your food. Just when your gaze dropped down to the food in front of you your gaze met the one of a certain fae. The usually so lively immortal sat in his usual place besides Silver and Sebek. Normally he would chat with the two whilst eating but now he was just sitting there. Silently. Staring at you. This made you remember the letter which laid on the table in the kitchen of Ramshackle, your name written on it in his easily recognizable handwriting. Was... was it something important? Did he want a answer now? Scrambeling you stood up, running to your dorm to read the God forsaken thing. Vargas could put his laps where the sun doesn't shine. You had better things to do: finding out why a fae general was staring at you so intensely.

Dear Overseer,

my dearest, all my life I had been dreaming of such a moment. When blood fell around me like rain, I prayed. When I heard of the deaths of my closest comrades, I prayed. When I saw Malleus hatch, I prayed. I prayed for you to grace us with a glance. I prayed to be recognized. But most of all did I pray to be loved by you. And I still pray every day. As I write this, this is the happiest I have felt in my entire life.

Please do not kneel as such is below your standards. It is me who should now. How disgraceful of me! Forcing God themselves to kneel in front of me! Forgive this sinner! I am ashamed beyond imagination. At the same time, I have to admit that I also feel relieved. All this time I thought that my dear Overseer doesn't care about me. That I am nothing more than the dirt beneath you. But this isn't the case! You care about me. You love me! Oh, what joy! How could I ever express my emotions towards you properly? There is no way to fro that no letter, no action would be good enough to express them.

I love you. More than the world, more than life. You are mine. Those beautiful eyes I could only ponder which color they have until you descended. That beautiful smile. All mine. Mine. I have to admit, since I have read your letter I can't shake a specific feeling off. I want to gauge the eyes of the others out. Cut off their tongue, bind their hands and feet. But not without reason my dear! They had the audacity to look at you. To speak to you! To sometimes even touch you! I want them dead. Forgive me. I am tainted with sin. I guess it's true what they say. The purer something g is the more you want to have it. The only way this could happen is for me to drag you down with me into the darkness. But I do not wish for you to fall. I love you, dearly.

But at the same time, I want this relationship! I want to spend eternity by your side. So please, allow a lowly devil like myself to be besides you. Your light is so blinding and yet calming at the same time. I cannot bear to be a way from it.

My dear, let's get married. The Valley would welcome you with open arms. Everyone is already waiting. All I need is for you to say that you would follow me into my homeland. Please. I beg you! Come with me.

I shall await your answer.

Forever yours,

Lilia Vanrouge

[peachesandmilktea]

“I probably won’t write it unless someone requests it but IMAGINE him fucking you while the two of you are watching your friends die through the game’s cameras djdbkdnd just the *angst* and *filth* of it all hehe”

BESTIE IM REQUESTING IT

Squid Game AU - Masked!Shinso x Player!Reader

Part 1.

Squid Game AU Masterlist.

TW: Noncon Smut, Yandere, Shinso is Mean, This is Filthy, Mention of Violence and Murder (in the context of the games).

They’re all insects to him, you know. Miserable beings that he can crush under the sole of his boot, only existing so that they can entertain him a bit.

And that’s exactly what you are, too.

Or just a bit more than that, maybe. His Kitten, his pet, his fucktoy. The one he uses when he wants to have some fun or blow out some steam. The one he likes to play with, abuse mercilessly and yet still kiss with uncharacteristic gentleness whenever he’s done.

It doesn’t help that he’s so pretty, his features so elegant they seem carved by the most skillful artist. It doesn’t help that having seen his face means that your fate is sealed and that you’ll either die or be his forever.

It doesn’t help that sometimes, you want to give in.

“So, Kitten. Aren’t you glad you’re mine now?”

He asks while your friends are fighting for their lives in a too-violent tug of war game. Blood coats the floor in the playroom you’re watching through the television screen, just like blood would coat his hands, too, if he hadn’t washed them so carefully before curling his fingers around your throat.

Another mark of ownership, like the collar he likes to keep around your neck whenever he doesn’t feel like replacing it by his cruel, murderous hands.

One of your tears falls on his wrist, and he scoffs.

“Hey, don’t cry. It only makes me want to kill even more of them.”

Maybe you wouldn’t cry if you weren’t seated in the lap of the man who stole your life away to make you his pet, maybe you wouldn’t cry if he didn’t keep killing and killing and killing every person you’ve got to know in this god-forsaken game, and maybe you wouldn’t cry if you couldn’t feel his cock twitching inside you at every death you witness on the screen.

They’re all insects to him, you know. Miserable beings that he can crush under the sole of his boot, only existing so that they can entertain him a bit.

That’s exactly what you are, too.

Or just a bit more than that, maybe. His Kitten, his pet, his fucktoy. The one he uses when he wants to have some fun or blow out some steam. The one he likes to play with, abuse mercilessly and yet still kiss with uncharacteristic gentleness whenever he’s done.

It doesn’t help that he’s so pretty, his features so elegant they seem carved by the most skillful artist. It doesn’t help that having seen his face means that your fate is sealed and that you’ll either die or be his forever.

It doesn’t help that sometimes, you want to give in.

He leaves a soft kiss on the back of your neck, his warm breath tickling the skin of your collarbone until shivers are running down your spine, icy and hot at the same time.

“Oh, isn’t that the girl who lent you her lighter for that game you cheated at?”

His lean fingers are on your chin, raising it until you’re forced to look at the screen.

“She snitched on you, you know. Right after using it herself.”

Even more tears pool in your eyes, making everything look blurry. He must feel the unspoken question lingering on your lips, because he scoffs, a pretty, low sound.

“I didn’t take her because I only wanted you. And, isn’t it more fun to see her die this way?”

He makes you yelp with a violent stroke of his hips, tearing through your walls as he settles even deeper inside you. His voice sounds almost amused as he murmurs, right in your ear:

“She’ll lose. I had her placed on the slippery side. Let’s watch her fall together.”

This is more than you can handle.

“N-no, I don’t want to, please.”

He laughs, a cruel, mean, evil laugh while his fingers snake around your throat once again, bending you down in front of the tall screens just so that he can force you to watch her demise while ravishing you as he wishes.

“Watch,” he orders, firm and merciless. “I’ll kill more of them if you don’t.”

And so you keep your eyes open as he fucks into you rough and hard, and you watch her fall and fall and fall, Shinso’s fingers stroking you just skillfully enough to make you come undone around him when she breaks her neck on the ground below.

That’s enough to make him topple over the edge of his own orgasm, and he comes with a groan, painting your walls white.

A soft sight. A gentle stroke of his fingers on your shivering arm. You can feel him smile against the back of your neck when he kisses the clammy skin there, once, then twice.

“There’s my sweet little Kitten. That wasn’t so hard now, was it? She got what she deserved. I always knew she’d bring you nothing but trouble, and look where she got you.”

He pulls you to him, and you’re back in his lap, cradled in his warm, strong embrace.

“After all, why do you think I slipped that lighter in her pocket in the first place?”

-----

Join my taglist?

I initially started this one with the intention to put Deku into the mix in the end (in relation to this request I got: masked shinso holding player reader's legs open for masked deku) but it got too long so Deku will be there in the next part hehe. If you have any kinks you want me to use with them just tell me!!

And also please tell me if you liked it ❤

[peachedtv]

Re-Fucking-Venge.

⤩ Yandere!Dabi x Nurse!Reader

⤩ Warnings: Kidnapping, non-sexual hair pulling, paraylsis, angst, drugging, profanity, descriptions of panic attacks, violence, slight horror.

⤩ Word Count: 6.67k

⤩ Synopsis: ‘Come dance with me in hell, won’t you, Father?’ And boy did Dabi fucking mean it. Poor little you to have been his next ledge to mindfuck his father to shards. 

I might continue this... I really want to... If it does continue it’ll turn into a sort of smut and publicized hostage sitch. It’s not really yandere yet,,, if it does continue it will be. 

Honestly, everything's turned into a fucking mess.

After the absolute devastation of Dabi’s theatrical exposing of Endeavour, your workplace was swarmed by furious citizens and questioning paparazzi. They were angry. So fucking angry. Angry for the fact that Endeavour had such cruel impositions on his children, angry that his actions caused the root of such a murderous villain, and angry at the fall of heroes being ironically unheroic. Day or night, their anger wouldn’t stop. The continuous flashing lights of cameras, the synchronized yelling, and the fists that shook in the air. With the mantra of harassment towards your hospital, one would think you’re caring for number one himself—the one Dabi framed as the center point for his villainous roots, the one who did most of the hurting. But, no. You weren’t caring for Endeavour. You were the main nurse for his wife, Rei. And that's what truly ticked your soul.

It absolutely baffled you. Why were such a mantra of citizens harassing a regular person? Can’t they properly think that if Dabi’s speech pointed at Endeavour, it’s mainly Endeavour’s doing? Article after article, you started to understand that many hard-luck Endeavour fans were convinced that the abuse Dabi had forsaken was all Rei’s fault.

‘She’s manipulative.’

‘What a fucking gold digger.’

‘No wonder Endeavour had to take out his anger on his children.’

Yet who was the one in psychiatric care? Are these people truly blind to the obvious victim here? It made your blood boil.

You kept Rei under your loving care for years. As someone who had their own fucked up family situation, you felt for her since her admission oh so many years ago. You knew who she truly was, and so, it made you enraged that these strangers yelled at her as though they’d known her all their ignorant lives. As if they had the entire situation figured out when even Endeavour had his own twisted narration of what happened. People believe what they want to believe, and you began to understand that. People protect what and who they wish to protect. It did not matter how morphed and wicked the twists on their perceptions may be—as long as they can justify themselves. As long as they can justify the wrong.

And so, here, Rei was not the object of the crowd’s protection. She was the embodiment of their malformed justifications. The receiver of their hatred, the one to hear the garbage and clunk of cans thrown against her window.

It’s during a time like this that you’re truly brought back. Brought back to the Rei who first arrived. The Rei who was constantly in a fight or flight response. For the first few weeks of her stay, she wore a horrid expression of absolute dread. Her eyes truly had no spark, and her body felt empty of any soul. She always looked down, her chin tucked near her chest as she zoned out into a singular corner of her room. Many of the doctors and nurses complained to the head, saying she was too much for our hospital to handle. Whenever someone merely grazed her arm while cleaning her room, she would scream out in horror—thrashing about as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Thus, when nurse after nurse had quit being her caretaker, finally you came up to the chopping block, and you had heard a lot about her. Of course, none of which was positive.

‘She’s fucking insane.’

‘That woman makes me want to quit.’

‘Thank god I got switched out.’

‘Goodluck, Y/N, you’ll need it.’

When you first saw her, the barrier you had about yourself slipped. No, you didn’t see a manic woman, nor did you see some form of a psycho. What you saw, mesmerized you. You were entranced. She was truly beautiful. Her white hair gently framed her face, while the sunlight in her room had a cold, blue hue, that you didn’t feel was present anywhere else in the hospital. She had the aura of an apathetic beauty, a flower that was plucked - for even wilting roses had their charm. Her eyes, though, those wonderful eyes. You could tell her deep irises once held the spark of happiness, the spark of hope and care. Yet now, her eyelids hung low, dark circles beneath her lids dragging her visage lower, and her posture as an enervated slouch. It was in that moment when you first laid eyes on her did you truly see who was deep inside the shell of her abused being. She brought you back, brought you back to who you easily could have become—shown you who you would’ve been had you not fought tooth and nail against your resolves. And so, determination flared inside of you. You will help her. You will bring back her spark. No one should fight so alone against something a crowd can’t handle. Thus, even if you’re the only one by her side, you will still be there.

It had taken a couple of months for you to barely disarm her violently defensive walls, but you managed. You always knocked on her door before entering, peering through before stepping into the room. You set up a small stool by her bedside, and every time you came to her you would sit down before getting to your medicinal caretaking. You’d smile, greet her warmly, and tell her silly stories about your day. Tales of the warm old man across the hall, of those pesky UA kids that couldn’t help but fight a little too hard for others. You would go into detail after detail, eyes dancing across the empty walls as you lightly laughed at the memories or clicked your tongue at some of the peskier ones. Although she never responded, you made sure to speak to her every single time.

Furthermore, you were careful, you truly wanted the best for your patients, and she is no different. You were careful when you delicately held the flowers’ stems as you poured in fresh water. You were careful when you gently told her everything you would care for before doing it. ‘I’ll be checking your heart rate, is that okay?’ You’d smile, not even grazing her arm before a sign of confirmation. And it was these careful things you did for Rei that truly made her love you too. Soon, she began to speak. Her voice was delicate and raspy, as she hadn’t used her vocals in such a long time. But still, you smiled at her. Tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you listened to her very first request for a glass of water. Progress is progress. And you were determined to continue it.

From her vaguely written patient file, you had an idea that her husband was the main factor in her descent into your care. But, you were horrified once Rei trusted you enough to spill her heart's deepest sorrows—all caused by her husband. She cried, and oh how her tears fell so quietly it shattered a piece of you that you didn’t know was there. After she began giving you one-worded answers, to replying in whole sentences, her walls soon came down and a woman desperate for help and comfort revealed herself. It broke your heart remembering the number of overtime shifts you’ve spent merely hugging her while she gripped your scrubs. Her arms desperately clinging to you for any minuscule support, her body trembling in the fear that you’ll give up and leave her just as the other nurses did. Those silent tears fell, her muffled cries making you wish you could take away her pain if only for a minute. Every night, that was the scene between you two. And every night, flashbacks of her husband’s cruel words yelled at her from the silence only she could hear. Not only as a nurse, but as a human being, you truly cared. And Rei could feel that sincerity, thus, you two grew close.

Even after Rei exponentially improved, you still tried your best to give her some kind of comfort she could cling to in the emptiness of the hospital’s blank walls. You were so proud of her. She came so, so far in her healing process. And your soul smiled at the thought of her gentle nod whenever you entered her room—she had the misfortune of a hundred lives, and didn’t deserve a single crumb more of difficulties.

So why did fate have the tv running that day?

You ran to her room, the blaring of her EKG racing your mind with worry. It had been long, too long, since her heart raced so. You had gotten used to her health, to her improved state, so how the hell did this happen? When you burst through the door, Rei was slumped on the ground with her hand clawing into her chest as she hyperventilated, her eyes wildly ajarred as her gaze stuck to the screen with tears swelling the corner of her ducts as her lips fell apart in these broken attempts of communication.

'-was born as the eldest son of Endeavour.'

‘Rei! Breathe, breathe, I’m right here for you. Please, what happened?’ You held her comfortingly, rubbing your palm in circular motions upon her back. God, how did this happen? Sorrow wretched your soul when she began to cry harder, frantically looking from the floor before her and the screen upon the tv. She shoved you away with as much force her could muster, you stumbled slightly back, in absolute shock. It had been a while since Rei had a any miniuscle of violence in her outbursts—let alone having an outburst in the first place, and it broke your heart to wonder why it was happening. You could tell her conciousness was slipping from the rapid breaths she choked to take, how her movements became more sluggish. She began to scream, her hands tangling into the hair on the side of her head as she knelt with her face to her knees. You reached into a nearby cabinet, taking a deep breath as you thrashed around the contents until your fingers wrapped about a minor sedative. It pained you, you haven’t had to go to such measures in so long. Your hand firmly on her shoulder, you told her everything was going to be alright before injecting the sedative and keeping your comforting words. 

'I was created for my father's selfish dream.'

‘It’s okay, I’m right here. Don’t worry about a thing, Rei.’ You spoke gently, and her eyelids began weighing down to shut, before she looked deep into your eyes and whispered: ‘T-tell him I’m sorry.’ Your eyes followed her as she tried to look towards the tv. Upon the screen, a man was sitting upon a vintage couch. Throughout his body, horrid patches of purple plastered his skin, barely holding onto his stature with the use of staples, you could see the dip in his surviving skin and the bruised purple from the awful staple job on his body. It looked so painful your skin tingled in discomfort. With such a blatantly iconic look, how could you not recognize the man himself? Dabi. His hair was a messy black, his chin picked up toward the camera, and a darkened gaze of determination and resentment filled his eyes—a stare that would pierce the soul of any viewer.

'-my father would force my mother to give birth to more off-spring.'

How long had his voice been playing in the background? You stared, stared at the TV. You listened, listened to Dabi apathetically recall every horrifying detail Endeavour put his pitiful children through. The same details that had you shaken to insomnia at night when you first heard it through Rei's exasperated cries during her mental break downs. It was awful, Endeavour's actions were horrid. The neglect, the abuse, his cold demeanour, hearing both Rei and now Dabi recount those awful memories made you realize just how cold the air about you became as well - a sudden contrast as though your physical environment darkened from the heavy words Dabi spoke out about. You felt their pain, but you know you could never truly understand it. Not until you had gone through something the exact same, and even then, everyone processes trauma differently. Thus, empathy is such a golden key. The very key that had your shocked visage brim with tears. There wasn't a hint of pain in Dabi's voice, not yet, at least. Yet, you knew that years before, and deep inside his battered body, Touya was will trapped. Crying, begging, trying to crawl his way out. You saw a reflection of Rei in Dabi. The reflection of someone who was in pain but built these sky-high walls to hide any form of vulnerability.

‘Using the blood Endeavour left at the fight in Kyushu,’ his hand propping up a document, ‘there was a 99.99% match.’ 

Truly, it took a while to understand what you heard. Your eyes carefully traced the screen, ears perked up in denial as Dabi described every moment that Rei had described to you. Endeavour, the pain, the abuse, the screaming, the yelling. He recalled it with an absent look of apathy glazed across his face. His eyes reflecting that of an apathetic beauty. A look you recognized from the Rei who first walked into your care. If it weren’t for his unforgiving injuries, he would have been a splitting image of his mother. As you gazed upon his grotesque features, his lips mouthed the same name of the son who Rei prayed so desparately for the return of.

Yet you don’t think her prayers were answered in the best way.

You stared holes into that screen, watching his careful movements, scanning the paper Dabi held in his hands, as you watched his mouth moved it was in that moment that you realized you couldn’t hear. A ringing was blaring in your head as the only sensory you had left was that of sight. Your vision tunnelled, the sides of your perception clouding into black as you silently watched Dabi continue to expose that wretched hero who caused his dear family such tremendous misfortune. Dabi was the same Touya Rei cried to you with gulit over for all these years. The same Touya whos only remains found was a jawbone from the burning forest he died in. The same Touya who fell apart for the sake of his father’s dreams.

How isn’t he dead? It didn’t make any sense. His jaw, how was his jaw found without the rest of him? How had it come off? How did he survive the temperature of those flames being enough to cremate someone alive? Your eyes watched the screen, watched Dabi’s speech continue, that ringing spiking a headache of throbbing pain. Nothing made any sense. And you put your everything into focusing upon the scarred man on the screen so why did this have to happen? Rei was doing so well, it’s not fair, why did this have to happen? She doesnt deserve this to happen she had trued so fucking much. She didn’t deserve this, she was barely healed–

‘Miss Y/N! Is Mrs. Todoroki okay?’ 

Your coworker’s voice snapped you back into reality, and you stammered an apology before carefully placing Rei into her bed and turning off the tv with shaking hands. From the expression on your coworker’s face, you could tell they saw the footage aswell, their eyes nervously tracing to the ajarred cabinet door to the sedatives, understanding the regress in Rei’s stability from this entire situation. 

Sadly, Rei’s instability wasn’t as fleeting as you had hoped. It didn’t take long for Rei to fall apart into the hole she fought so hard to climb out of. With the mantra of angered ex-Endeavor fans accusing her of child abuse, along with the constant paparazzi that flashed bright lights toward her window and posted her tear-struck face all over tabloids, you couldn’t blame her. For days after the incident, you refused to sleep. Staying by her side as she couldn’t rest at all. Although a hospital never sleeps, it still quiets at twilight. But no, not anymore. For even night didn’t tire the fucking protestors. They screamed out, police desparately trying to control the situation, although they were smart. Hugging the gates, not actually on the property of the hospital. Thus, the police couldn’t pull any legalities on them. 

You never left the hospital anymore, every break and after your shifts, you would sit at Rei’s bedside. The aura was both somber and panicked, darkened with the occational sniffles and choked sobs of Rei’s rasped voice. Unlike the usual, you did not speak. You knew the voices in her head had come back now, and if you added your own, Rei wouldn’t be able to hold out any better than she already is. So, the only thing you knew to do was to never leave her alone, and her arms never left your back. You held her in an embrace every night, neither of you sleeping, neither of you talking. Slowly, she began to loosen her hold, gently sleeping a couple minutes a night with her chin resting on your shoulder. Your heart lit with hope, glad she could finally sleep a wink. Before long, she was truly able to fall into a decent slumber, her body resting against yours for a couple hours before she would gasp awake. Slowly but surely, improvement had come. And once Rei’s sleep schedule returned to some extent, you traveled back home to your apartment for the first time in over a week to gather your own well-deserved rest.

You wish you could say your return brought some comfort to you. But truly, the silence was eerie to say the least. Your mind was still worried. Worried that Rei would wake up in the middle of the night, all alone without you there. A part of you missed her already, but your boss became truly worried for your health after the bags under your eyes darkened into a bruise like hue. She demanded you at least go home for a night, and you relented. Truly, your body was giving up, and you needed the rest too.

Your keys twisted inside the lock as you pushed the door open, a familiar creak welcoming you back. You did not feel very welcome. The air was a piercing cold, with all the lights in your apartment off. The fact that it was late into the night did not help, with both an absence of light in your home and no twinkling stars to gaze upon. Everything was pure dark. You sighed, dumping your bag lazily by the door as you kicked off your shoes, taking heavy steps toward your room when you stopped. You stood still, so, so still. From the crack below your closed bedroom door, light bled into the dark hallway. You were scared, truly. You never leave the lights on before leaving, so what was happening here..? Why were the lights on?

A sense of dread filled your body, and you listened carefully. Nothing. No rummaging, no gentle thumps of someone’s steps, just the rays of light dauntingly brightening the floorboards and that white noise of ventilation. Quietly, you walked backward toward the front door, taking shaky breaths as your lungs quivered. You should’ve stayed with Rei. You shouldn’t have come. With how little sleep you had gotten, your mind felt as though you were floating. And obviously, you struggled to form any kind of rational thought about your current predicament. Despite that, you did have one thought. The thought that you must leave. Immediately. You didn’t care for your belongings, your jacket, nor your shoes and keys. All you cared for was to get the fuck out. 

Every pore on the wall felt as though an eye was peering through, watching your pathetically fearful movements. Shivers spiked down your spine and every dark crack of any open door had an imagined silhouette peering through, faces tauntingly smiling to you through the dark. You were panicking.

Your hand gripped the knob, turning it slowly to stiffle it’s persistent creaks before you flung open the door to bolt outside. Your mind raced, breath hitching as steps slapped upon the cement. As you approached a corner, you turned your head back as you kept running—fully expecting the door to fly open and a figure to chase behind you. You couldn’t imagine why you had to have some burglary occur. You didn’t live in an exceptionally poor or rich area, and there were blatant security cameras throughout the building. The more you watched your back, the more you felt a little silly. Nothing came, and you nearly slowed down your bolt as a light chuckle of relief fell before your mouth. You’re safe, your apartment was safe. There’s no threat in your room, obviously, you must’ve forgotten to turn off the lights. You turned the corner as your bolt slowed into a jog. Yet, your momentary relief was short-lived the moment you roughly crashed into something in front of you.

You fell back, falling hard onto your ass with your palms scraping against the unforgiving texture of the floor. Gravel stung, digging into your open skid marks. Athough, that pain was nothing compared to the strike fear over who stood before you. 

The very man upon your tv screen those days before.

The very man who single-handedly wrecked the top two heroes.

Dabi.

He looked down at you, a sickened gaze and smirk plastered over his graphic features. He looked manic, and he was manic. The way he demeaningly leaned down to you, hands dug deep into the pockets of his black slacks, the way he cocked his head to the side, it all made your throat starkly dry. 

‘Why the long face, Y/N?’ You internally gagged, your name sounded so vile on his tongue, in the way his face stared at you with hatred. How does he know your name? What does he want? You stared up at him speechlessly, your jaw falling silent and eyes dropping wide with horror. Your mind raced in confusion. Jumping from one false hope to another, trying to relieve your fear that you might not survive this encounter. Your only connection with Dabi was as the nurse of his mother, was he extrapolating some revenge against her? But why? Endeavour had been the main perpetrator of the abuse, so why are you being dragged into this so mercilessly? You couldn’t think clearly, but you did know one thing. Both of you well knew Rei had barely anything to do with the harm Touya had endured. Yet, here he was. Newly born as Dabi, as the Dabi who stared down at you as though you coddled his worst enemy your whole life.

His hand shot toward your collar, the fabric ripping at certain ends from the sheer force he used to drag you closer to his face. Your hands grappled at his wrist, fingertips digging into his hand before your force hesitated when you latched right onto his staples. You were scared. You were really, really scared. The way his smile grew wider in response to those pathetic tears that welled in your eyes, the way he held you so tightly your windpipe felt as though it was burning in pain. You felt misjudged. Thrown into an undeserving cruelty that you hadn’t even sinned enough to deserve. But obviously, why would a villain care about whether or not you deserved their violence?

‘Why are you so scared? I’m only here to thank you.’ He quirked, eyes wide as he laughed at your pathetic expressions of fear and struggle. ‘You won't die, so don’t be too dramatic.’ He smiled, yet, you didn’t feel comforted. Heck, a part of you here realized how much you wish you could’ve died at this moment. Was living through whatever he was about to put you through better than hell itself?

‘You took care of my dear old mom ever since I left, comforting her all those nights, helping her recover from Mr. Number One.’ His grip tightened, your collar bunching up into his palms, harshly wheezing your throat as you struggled to breathe. You knew no amount of fighting back was going to drain him down to stop. Dabi had you stood completely upright, right up on the tip of your toes as he held the majority of your body weight up by your neck, still leaning forward to truly yell into your face. Even without the threat of his quirk, you’d never stand a fucking chance against him with how he towers over you. You could tell of the venom Dabi had in his recalling of your care as his mother’s nurse, his pupils dialating in fury. Had he felt things were unfair? That he hadn’t had the help Rei needed when he felt so much worse? You tried to be empathetic, trying to find a way so you could make it out alive. But the more Dabi tightened his hold on you, the more you realized you wouldn’t be getting out of this unscathed—far from it, actually.

‘I’m here to repay you. You know? You spent so many years caring for her, so I’ll repay your act of kindness.’ His voice dripped in sarcasm, venom seeping through as his spat out to you right in your face. Suddenly, his expression morphed, his smile churning so wide the staples holding his smile  together began to rip at the corners of his mouth. ‘You know, that stupid woman isn’t the angel you keep treating her to be. Haven’t you seen little Shoto Todoroki? How do you think that scar on his precious face came to be?’ Your breath hitched as his grip tightened, your throat completely wrenched into his lone palm as heat began radiating through his fingers. Don’t listen to him, you told yourself. Rei messed up. She’s wasn’t the best mother. But no one helped her victim until she became the abuser. Shoto didn’t deserve that, neither did Rei deserve the cruelities of Endeavour, and nor did Touya deserve a crumb of the pressure he underwent. Can’t he understand that nearly everyone in this situation is some form of a victim? You felt frustrated trying to hold your tongue back against this man. He was blinded by rage, a rage that began rationally and morphed into something villianously sinister. It made you feel frustrated. He pitied himself too much. Everyone was struggling, Shoto and Rei too, so why was he so upset with you helping someone who needed to be helped?

‘You people disgust me. You save whoever the fuck you want, but leave the people who really need it out to burn up in a forest.’ You shook your head, shutting your eyes tightly in denial to his cruel accusations. You wanted to yell. Yell how stupid his words were, how tunnelled his thinking was. Dabi is being selfish. Yet, despite your anger, you were still striken with fear. You understood you were in no place to speak your mind, yet your words just spilled out in a frenzy.

‘You’re so linear.’ You said shakily, furrowing your eyebrows and trying to wrench your windpipe out of his grip so you could just barely breathe. ‘Rei was hurt too, she’s n-no angel, but she’s not such a demon either.’ You spoke quietly, but considered how you were choked up into the air it was remarkably impressive you could even get a peep out. Dabi seemed to only become amused, an upset form of amusement. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mainly from the physical agnoy, but moreso now that his palm began to luminate blue and heat up.

You were going to die over your fat tongue.

Your crying only seeming to fuel him even more as his smile ripped even wider. ‘I’m sorry— I didn’t mean it badly–‘ You panically wept. His eyes narrowed, a sense of absolute euphoria over the position of power he had. He felt so cocky, you know? He just ruined two of the top heroes’ careers and now he’s taking away the only support and comfort from his shitty mom. His revenge has just fucking started. He nonchalantly dropped your body onto the floor as he adjusted to stand straight. You crumbled to your knees, your hands flying to your throat as you wretched and coughed out. Your neck was painful to the touch, throbbing as you felt the bruise of his grip develop. Suddenly, he knelt down to one knee, looking at you with an unimpressed expression. 

‘Don’t be so fucking dramatic. Be grateful you’re alive.’ He spat, his tone unforgiving. You sobbed, trying your best to sniffle your crying as you bit down on your lip and shut your eyes tightly—too stuck in horror to look at whatever the fuck your current situation was. From the fear of death you just had, you nearly wanted to thank him for sparing your life. Your hands violently shaking as you refused to look up to him, parts of you begging that this was all some bad trip. Suddenly, he laughed. He began to laugh, growing louder and more insane. You stopped breathing, opening your eyes to see him heaving in absolute exhilaration. 

‘Don’t do that,’ He was profoundly euphoric, ‘you’re reminding me too much of how I cried to dear old Endeavour. What, are you trying to send me down memory lane?’ He finally calmed down a little, smiling at you as you knelt before him, fucking speechless. Your relief was immediately drowned out in the panic of what he was trying to do. He reached out, shoving his thumb into your mouth and forcing your jaw open. Taking his other hand, he forced two fingers down your throat without a shred of care. You gagged, grabbing his wrist and digging your nails into his skin as you felt a pill sink into being forced down into your body as he kept his fingers deep in your throat. Eyes wide as you tried to fight him off, jaw stiffening as you prepared to bite down on him. He stared you down warningly, his breaths deepening and hand warming on your jaw. You sobbed, relenting and loosening your grip on his wrist, shutting your eyes tightly. You felt a tear gently trickle down your cheek, it felt warm against your face. But not as warm as the threatening hand on your neck that wouldn't hesitate to burn. Dabi let go, standing up as you coughed out, feeling the pill stay stuck deep in your throat as you tried your best to ignore it. He lazily dragged his hand across your face, wiping your spit off his hand. You started to cry. Sobbing as quietly as you could as you heard. You could tell he was truly annoyed, clicking his tongue as he took heavy steps away from you - but still keeping a close enough distance to burn you alive if you tried to run away. You felt frustrated. What had you done to deserve this? What did he drug you with? Your panic made you hallucinate awful symptoms of the pill. The world began feeling dizzy, your head becoming light, ad your thoughts racing drunkenly. Although, rationally, you knew that you hadn't even digested the pill yet, so you tried your best to calm yourself down before the pill's effects would truly take place.

You didn't realize Dabi had taken his space between you two to take a quick call until he hung up, shoving his phone deep into his pocket before he looked back to you with a bored expression. 'Are you done crying?' He was annoyed. From the expression of apathy and boredom on his face, he resembled a tired dad sick of his children throwing a tantrum over every little thing. The way he looked down at you felt demeaning, and you felt your body shrink a little down into the core of your bruised heart. You wanted to stand up, your legs numb from being forced down to kneel this entire time. Yet, the fear you held over being burnt from any sudden movement kept you scarily still.

'Get up.' There wasn't a shred of care in his voice, but from the way he tangled his fingers in your hair, dragging you forward by it until you were knelt up awkwardly by his side like a dog, you weren't surprised by his verbal violence. Let alone his physical violence. You grabbed his hand, trying to ease the burning pain against your scalp. It felt as though your hair would rip from the root if he pulled just a little harder. Your eyes darted around, confusion to why he propped you up to him so closely. Was there some threat? Was something about to happen? You felt your heart pounding through your blouse, so loud it resonated inside your head. But, it didn't matter how much your scalp burned in pain. It didn't matter how your palms were still scraped open from your initial fall. It didn't matter how you had roughly fifteen minutes before that pill would digest. What did matter was that by the end of those fifteen minutes, you needed to be away from him and whatever he had planned for you. As though Dabi sensed your change in mood from fear to determination, his hand began to heat up.

'If you want to die, go ahead and try what you want. If not, stay down like the trash you are.' You felt the hope you built up crumble, maybe it was from Dabi's words. But mainly, it was from the literal crumble of the ground and roads in front of your apartment building. The way the earth caved in on the infamous stone-like creature that bulldozed through half of Japan—Gigantomachia of the League of Villians. His body was confined down so his brutish face was mere feet away from yours. His eyes were a glinted yellow, so much so they didn't resemble eyes in the slightest—moreso like large fragments of amber-filled or gold his sclera. You watched in horror as large rubbles of the road slipped down Machia's spikes, cracking their area of impact once they fell. Light after light turned on in your neighboring apartments, people opening their doors with pissed-off expressions darkened with eyebags. Looking to curse out whatever fool decided to make such a loud fuss in the middle of the night. Unsurprisingly, as the beast merely turned his head in their direction, and person after person ran out of their homes in wide-eyed fear.

Dabi rolled his eyes, unimpressed at their pathetic attempts at an escape. He raised his palm, flames bursting out from the center as screams of pain erupted. You stared in horror as the people you'd politely smile to every day burnt up before your eyes. You didn't plan it. Your arms reached up and grabbed Dabi's forearm to pull it down into our chest. You cringed when the flame lightly skimmed your shoulder, yet our grip on his arm remained iron. You refused to let people die right in front of you.

'What the fuck are you doing?!' He yelled, his flames dissipating as you watched a minuscule bunch run away safely. Dabi shoved you hard into the ground, glaring down at you in absolute annoyance. Yet you returned his glare, looking up at him with resentment. 'Fine, you wanna die? Go ahead.' He aimed his palm in your direction, a twinge of flames hurling out. Without a doubt, you were scared. You were scared of dying, scared of never seeing your loved ones again, and scared of the sorrow your death would cause. You hadn't had the impact you wished to have yet, yet here you were, about to die before barely making a dent of meaning in your life. But in that fear, you felt angry. Angry that you were being relentlessly harmed over helping someone who needed it, angry that Dabi would mercilessly burn the innocent without hesitation, and angry that he was mad at you over trying to save them. He was so unreasonable.

'God! Can you quit it?! I understand your pain, and I understand where you're coming from. But those people aren't Endeavour, Rei, or whoever else you hate! They didn't do anything to deserve being killed over, just like you didn't do anything to deserve what you went through as a kid. So why are you hurting them?!' You glared at him, adjusting your posture so you were sitting upright, a hand soothing the blistering burn on your shoulder. His flames fizzled out, and you saw his eyes widen. He was silent, still. As though for both of you, time stopped. You heard desperate steps fade away into the background, rubble from Machia falling upon the grass, and the sizzles of Dabi's flames eating away the fresh corpses that littered the scene about you two. His expression was apathetic, you couldn't read him. Yet, you felt his mind racing, before his palm picked up and slapped you, hard, right across your face.

'You understand me? Is that what you fucking said?' He was absolutely livid. You could hear the absolute anger in his voice, yet a soft smile spread across his lips. Your cheek felt stung, warm, and you were absolutely speechless. For some reason, him slapping you across your face felt more painful than the burn on your shoulder and the scrapes on your palms combined. It was the way he looked down at you. Down at you with absolute fury, as though you were a senseless fool. 'Don't you dare say you understand me when you haven't gone through what I did.' You could tell he wanted to kill you in that moment. You flinched when he reached out to you, expecting this to be your final moment. Instead, he threw you over his shoulder and jumped onto Machia's back, being dragged away to god knows where. You looked up to his face, catching a glimpse of his thumb wiping a droplet of blood from the corner of his eyes before wiping it onto his sleeve. Did he become injured? Or was that a common occurance? Truly, you shouldn't care. He had just battered you, violently dragging you upon the back of a rocky beast, and yet here your nursing instincts slapped you across the face to anaylze his aid.

Quickly, your brief confusion, or worry, for Dabi fell apart as you realized your legs couldn't feel the aggressive breeze of the wind against it's skin. You fought to move, to adjust your stature, yet you felt as though your nerves were burning, fighting against an invisble force that kept you scarily limp and still. Your heart began to pound in your chest, heavy breaths shaking your lungs as you nearly began to weep over what awful drug Dabi had foresaken onto you earlier. You felt constrained, uncomfortable, a distant tingle of pain tracing about the entirety of your skin as you tried to fight the stunt in your lower half. Your legs. Your legs were paraylzed. Your mind raced a mile a minute, heart dropping deep into your stomach. This isn't fair. It's not fair. You felt as though your life has fallen so far you couldn't even hear it's impact on the floor so down below. No resonating echoes, nothing. And that nothing was not at all what you deserved. You hand quivered, tracing across your shin to your thigh. It felt as though you traced your hand on another body, or a piece of your body that was no longer attached. You were disturbed, trying to keep your sanity together as your temples and eyes burned with frustrated tears. It wasn't until a tear hit your thigh, and you didn't even feel it, did you truly begin to break down.

Everything is a fucking mess.

[beels-burger-babe]

Never Letting You Go - Pt. 3

Summary: After running into a masked Lucifer, you did not escape. He caught you. They caught you. When you come through, the brothers, acting under the malicious cursed masks that they wear, are discussing just what they ought to do with you and your sparkling soul. What’s a defenceless little human to do?

CW: Anixety/Panic Attacks, mentions of murder, cannibalism, violence/gore, and yandere behaviours. This one is ANGSTY guys. Please be careful while reading and be sure to practice self-care/awareness before, during, and after reading.

Part 1, Part 2

Barbatos grit his teeth as Mammon, Levi, and Beel continued trying to push past him and Diavolo as you were finally escorted away from your captors.

The butler gnarled as he shoved Levi back. "Stop this. All of you. We clearly are not going to let you through, so stop making a fool of yourselves!"

Mammon bared his teeth, as he desperately tried to look around Barbatos. "No! MC is hurt! They need our help!"

"Oh for Diavolo's sake, Mammon!" Lucifer snapped as he stepped forward, effortlessly claiming the attention of everyone in the room. Mammon quivered with restless unease as he glared up at his elder brother, but Lucifer didn't yield. "Use your brain for once! You wake up with no recollection of getting here, Lord Diavolo, Barbatos and the exchange students are on the defensive, and MC is hurt. Who do you think could possibly be the one to hurt them?"

Satan's eyes widened as a shaky breath caught in his throat. "Y-You don't mean," he shook his head in denial as he looked around the room. "We d-didn't," he placed a hand over his mouth before he could finish the statement; too afraid to set the truth loose to reality.

Belphegor stumbled back against a wall as he also came to the realization, his body trembling. "Fuck, not again," he whispered a hand going through his hair as his eyes welled with tears. "Please tell me this didn't happen again."

Beel quickly moved to his twin's side, pulling him into his arms as mournful sobs began to spill past his lips. He frowned as he felt Belphie grip tightly onto his shirt, shaking all the while. He looked over at Mammon in confusion but found Mammon looking at the ground with a calculative gaze.

Suddenly, the white-haired demon froze as the blood drained from his face. He looked to Lucifer with hopeless eyes. "It wasn't us," he breathed lowly as his hands balled into fists. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he clenched his teeth. "There ain't no way it was us! W-We love MC! We'd n-never hurt them o-or do anythin' like this!"

Diavolo could only watch as Mammon's words settled into the minds of the remaining brothers.

Beel clung tighter onto Belphie and was despairingly flickering his stare between Mammon and Lucifer, as though he hoped that one of them would say that Mammon was right, that it wasn't them.

Asmo had turned a shade of green as he stared down at his hands in horror, having gone uncharacteristically quiet.

Leviathan stood there gaping; his eyes now taking in different aspects of the chains on the ground and the masks that had been removed from them in a new light.

Lucifer's normally unshakable composure cracked as his bottom lip trembled. "It..." he hesitated as he tried to gather himself. "We were cursed," he closed his eyes, refusing to watch as Mammon slowly began to find the truth. "The masks were cursed. Th-They brought out our natural d-demonic instincts," He licked his lips as he looked down to the floor in shame. "Even I couldn't fight it off."

Diavolo frowned at his friend's words and took a gentle step closer to him. "You remember everything that happened, don't you Lucifer?"

Lucifer inhaled sharply as he continued to avoid everyone's stares. For all his strength, he could find it in himself to answer; it was almost as though he was still as helpless as he was under that God-forsaken curse. He gave a distinct nod.

Mammon's chest heaved as he stared at his brother in disbelief — his mind still reeling in denial.

Diavolo sympathetically glanced at the demon before focusing on Lucifer. "Do you wish to tell them, or should I?"

Lucifer took in a deep breath, his fists clenching and unclenching before he began to speak. "I was the one who captured them," the room went quiet. Everyone was dreading to hear what he had to say, yet no one dared to stop him. He ran a hand through his hair as his eyes grew distant in recollection. "They... They were terrified. They kept trying to get away from me, not that I can blame them. I-I knocked them out and brought them here," his eyes guiltily fell over to his brothers. "You found us on the way and insisted on coming with us. From there, things only got worse."

Satan swallowed thickly as he reached out and gripped onto Asmodeus for support. "What... What did we do to them?" Satan's voice wobbled as Asmo placed his hand on top of his brother's in comfort, even as tears dripped down his cheeks.

"Not much physically," Lucifer muttered bitterly. "We chained them up, but that was about it."

Levi frowned at his brother's words and nervously eyed him. "Y-You said physically... Did... Did we hurt them some other way?"

Lucifer shuddered and glanced over at him in uncertainty. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"We need to know if we ever want MC to be comfortable around us again. We need to know what we did." Beel said through a mouthful of tears as he held a trembling Belphegor to his chest.

Lucifer let out a heavy sigh. "We were obsessed with them and their soul," the brothers tensed at the implication of those words. "That... mania showed itself differently in all of us. We couldn't agree what to do with them. In all honesty, that's probably the only reason why they were in as good of shape as they are."

Diavolo's lips pulled into a thin line at Lucifer's statement.

"Some of the, uh, the threats weren't as bad, though admittedly still disturbing," Lucifer continued, his tone now cold with disassociation. "Asmodeus and Leviathan wanted to treat them like a doll of sorts and be able to dress them up and use them as they pleased. Similarly, Satan and Mammon had an argument about getting to keep MC to themselves and hiding them away from everyone else."

Belphie narrowed his eyebrows as he swiped at his nose. "W-What about Beel and I? You didn't mention us."

Beel gently shushed his twin and ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe he didn't mention us because we didn't recommend anything. Maybe we were the better one that h-"

"I'm afraid not," Barbatos cut in with a clipped tone. There wasn't an ounce of mercy in his eyes as they burned down at the demonic twins. "You two were the worst. Diavolo and I were there when you first encountered MC. You both wanted to kill them-"

"Barbatos that's enough." Diavolo interrupted the butler as his voice began to rise. Barbatos huffed but bowed his head to his Master.

The twins had both gone ghost white at the revelation; clinging onto one another with a certain desperate denial that Lucifer hadn't seen since their fall from the Celestial Realm and the death of Lillith. "L-Lucifer," Beelzebub whimpered. "Is...D-Did we...Is that true?"

Rather than speaking, Lucifer merely moved over to his brothers and wrapped them both in his arms. "I'm sorry," Lucifer croaked as they both collapsed against him in fits of tears. "It-It was the curse. I-It had us all acting on o-our demonic instincts a-and for y-you two that's- that's sloth and g-gluttony."

"Oh god," Beel lamented as he clutched onto his brother. "D-Don't tell me that I... I didn't... D-Did I- Did I ask to e-e-eat them?"

The only response he got was Lucifer shivering as he tightened his hold on him. The wail that fell from Beelzebub's lips shook the room as his knees gave out from underneath him.

In a matter of seconds, the rest of the brothers had thrown themselves into the group hug; all of them shedding tears in remorse for the actions they had unknowingly done.

"I'm sorry," Lucifer howled as, for the first time in centuries, he openly cried in front of his family. "I'm sorry! I was-wasn't strong enough. I tried to shake off the curse, b-but it just wouldn't give. I-I couldn't stop any of it! The only reason wh-why MC is even safe right now a-a-and not under the effects of a god-damned obedience spell is because- because they managed to stop us using their pacts."

Mammon pulled Lucifer closer to him and the centre of the hug as they all held each other close.

Diavolo and Barbatos watched in pity at the sight before them knowing that there was nothing and no one that could help them right now. What was done was done, and only time would tell if they could win you back.

***

It was two months after the event before the brothers had heard from you.

You had been living at Purgatory Hall with Luke, Solomon and Simeon. The brothers' had been very strictly informed by Solomon when they returned that they were not allowed to go anywhere near you until you gave your approval.

No one argued with him.

Lucifer did, however, ask Simeon for the occasional update on how you were doing. He couldn't say he was entirely shocked when the report was filled with summaries of nightmares and finding you disassociating in the halls of RAD sometimes. According to the angel, you were having a hard time being around any infernal being; this included Diavolo and Barbatos.

In the meantime, the brothers were a wreck without you. The house had fallen strangely quiet, and while they were all sad from your departure from their lives, it had also brought them closer together. If one of them were to fall apart, another one would be right there to pick them back up.

So after two months of radio silence, you can imagine the surprise on Mammon's face when he saw your contact appear on his D.D.D. screen.

He yelped and nearly dropped it, gaining the attention of the rest of his siblings, before he scrambled to answer it. "M-MC! I-I mean h-hello! I mean, uh, how-how are you doing?"

Mammon cringed at his awkwardness as he heard his brothers gasp and move closer to him.

"Hi Mammon," your voice was quieter than he remembered. "I-I just, uh, I needed to tell this to one of you a-and since I-I've always been the most comfortable with you, I thought you might be the safest option," he could hear rustling in the background, and a soft voice whispering kindly beside you.

"Put it on speaker!" Asmodeus hissed beside him.

Mammon glared at the demon and swatted his reaching hands away. "Of course, MC. I, uh, I know that you may not believe me because of what happened, b-but I'd do anythin' to keep ya happy and safe. I can't even begin to say how sorry I am for what I did to you while under the curse. Whatever ya need, just let me know, and the Great Mammon will do his best, okay?"

He tensed as the sound of your whimpers came through the phone. "G-God, that makes this even harder," his knuckles turned white as you began to cry. Around him, Lucifer and Satan were trying to calm down the other brothers and prevent them from pouncing onto Mammon. "I... I-I got permission from Diavolo to go h-home and I, fuck, I don't know if I can see you guys again."

Mammon went still as the all breath left his lungs. Though his brothers were still causing a ruckus around him, he felt as though the world had gone still. Your words were icy chains that dug deeply into his heart and filled with throat with blood. "Y-You...You what?" he breathed.

At the lack of sound coming from Mammon, the others also fell quiet and were able to pick up the sounds of you crying on the other end.

"I know it's not fair," you wept. "N-Not to you. Not to me. Not to- to Diavolo and his exchange program, but I- I can't keep doing this Mammon! I really thought I was going to die down there, a-and that's not the first time that- that I've felt that way since arriving. It-It's just life or death situations again and again and again, and what if n-next time help doesn't come fast enough?"

Mammon silently shook his head, "MC-"

"Please," you begged before he could get any further. "J-Just let me speak."

Mammon apologized as he felt tears burn behind his eyes. The reality of your news beginning to dawn on him.

"Every day that I'm d-down here, I wonder if I'll get kidnapped again, o-or tortured, or... or eat-eaten."

Mammon's stomach clenched at the last one. "We wouldn't let that happen, MC." He swore, desperately hoping against all odds that there was something, anything, he could say that would make you change your mind.

"I know," there was the faintest trace of mournful tenderness to your tone. "I know you wouldn't. Especially you, m-my greatest pro-protector."

Mammon bit back a sob, his hands trembling as tears leaked down his eyes. He felt someone place a hand on his shoulder, but couldn't bring himself to check who it was. "Then... Then why?"

He could hear you try to collect yourself through your tears as someone, seemingly Solomon, tried to comfort you. "B-Because the curse didn't create those desires and instincts Mammon. I-It just amplified them, wh-which means that somewhere- that somewhere deep down all of you want... want to... want to..."

Mammon felt like he was going to be sick as you began crying again. He couldn't even deny your words because you were right. Deep down, Mammon did want to take you and hide you away with his most precious treasures and keep you all to himself. He was so greedy for your love and attention, he craved it more than any jewel or credit card.

"A-And what if something like this happens again? H-How are you going to pro-protect me from yourself?!" It was plain to see from the pain in your voice that this had been eating away at you ever since the incident.

It became clear to the demon that if he truly cared for you and truly loved you then there was only one thing he could do for you.

"Okay," Mammon whimpered. "It hurts, but I understand. What do ya need me to do?"

You sniffled on the other side. Mammon tried to soak in every sound, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that this could very well be the last time he hears your voice. "J-Just try to move on. Tell the others, and hel-help them understand. Take care of one another, o-okay?"

Mammon clenched his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from crumbling apart. "That ain't an easy thing to ask, MC. W-We... I love ya, ya know that?"

He could hear your breath get caught on your repressed sobs at his words. "I know, and I-I'm sorry that I have to ask you to do this. B-But please Mammon,"

He let out a heavy sigh. "Okay. I promise. The Great Mammon will keep things in check down here. Don't worry. J-Just," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just be careful, a-and take care of yourself. Try and be happy, okay? That's all I ever wanted."

"Okay," you whispered. He heard a voice call out on the other side. "I-I have to go. Simeon says that the portal is going to open up soon, and I st-still need to finish packing. B-But just..." Mammon didn't breathe as you fell silent. "I love you Mammon. I love all of you. Th-Thank you for looking out for me wh-while I was here. Goodbye."

Before he could get out another word, the line clicked and you were gone.

Mammon stood unresponsive as he stared down at his phone; even as his brothers began to hound him with questions. He didn't want to believe that this was really happening.

"Mammon!"

His head shot up as he looked at a frantic Leviathan who was cupping his face. "What happened? What did they say?"

Mammon swallowed down the lump in his throat, remembering his promise to you as he gave them a shaky smile.

"They're letting us go."

*** I um...I apologize. Remember to drink water and take care of yourselves. Thanks for all the love and support you've given this series! I love you guys.***

TAGLIST

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @tallyscottage @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rulaien @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10

[rottendollface]

The Alien.

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Warnings: NSFW, angst, female reader, yandere Ajax, established abusive relationships, body horror, zombie Ajax, cannibalism, reader is being eaten alive, physical violence, murdering, burial alive, non-detailed description of sex, symbolism, only 18+.

Amazing fragrance, which was impossible to copy. Oriental sweets and spices, culinary delights from all over the world – it all paled in comparison to the sweetness of a living maiden's body. It didn't have to be marinated or given piquancy by rare herbs: it was already created perfectly, and it remained this state until the first raid of decomposition.

Ajax, who was buried alive in the God - forsaken part of the dark forest, was cursed by the Sun. Sunrays were stinging his skin, like insects, swarm of glares was tormenting his hating flesh: it was crying, wriggling like a squid on a frying pan heated with oil, that's why Ajax was hiding behind the damp walls of abandoned buildings, where the purity of the day couldn't illuminate his ugliness.

Inside his body, worms were swarming, scurrying back and forth, so he had to dig them out of his wounds, brush them aside, and crush them with the sole of the shoe, that was covered with fertile soil. His face was amazingly handsome when Ajax was alive, and even after his death, it remained the same charming features. The whole abomination went to the body, covered in dusty rags that were stained during the clumsy attempts to get out of the grave and torn while he was bathing in a river.

He couldn't believe in his death.

Beautiful people didn't die like this.

It wasn't important what he had done in his life; it wasn't important how scary his sins were – Ajax believed that beauty would save his life. How could someone raise a hand on a person so gorgeous like him? Who was that barbarian who would dare to touch the face from which the greatest ancient masters were painting and sculpting their masterpieces? The answer was simple – you.

Ajax took with him into the earth the tuft of your hair, which he forcefully tore off your scalp – it still remained the fruity fragrance of your perfume. His flesh and shreds of his soul were burning in the fire of pure rage, demanding to find you and take you back: you belonged to him, and he would never leave you alone.

Ajax was hungry. His teeth sharpened, his body became stronger, and the hunter's instinct awoke. He tried to eat grass, wanting to drown out this horrid starvation that was corroding his already rotten stomach and blinking like a red lamp in his clouded sanity. He needed the human meat.

So tender...

Sensual meat, the warmth of which he enjoyed when he was alive. He had tasted so many girls and explored their tempting feminine parts in all the possible positions.

Saliva filled his mouth. Every time he was fantasizing about the human meat, saliva was accumulating in the corner of his mouth and dripping on his chin.

He was close. He was almost there. For what you had done, you deserved to be punished in the worst way. No one could test his patience, and you crossed all the borders: stabbed him in his chest with a kitchen knife and left him to die in the hastily dug up grave. It was unbelievable how much power you had inside your petite body: usually, you just protected your head with arms and tried to hide in the corner, waiting for Ajax to calm down when he was mad at you.

You were such a bitch: never learned by your mistakes and pissed Ajax off with your plainess and stupidity. He told you so many times not to interact with other men, but you always tried to excuse yourself with ridiculous explanations: just a colleague, just asked the right road, just, just, just. Ajax had to prove his male power over you to make you remember your lesson, and you still didn't understand that your tears just encouraged him to go rougher on you. He sacrificed you to his lustful needs without caring about your feelings, as he loved you worn-out and broken, with your tight core clenching around him in painful pleasure and his fists suffocating you until midnight blue bruises covered your thin throat. You were made out of glass, an open bundle of nerves: you overreacted on everything, your restless mind was like fireworks, and he protected you from everything, hiding you from the outer world in his strong embrace. You were fresh and fragrant like a May day, and your feminine parts were as a bloomed flowers, which he roughly excruciated – he couldn't resist this addiction of hurting and owning you, proving his rights on you with white strings of semen on your thighs and inside your soft place, that was perfect for rising his future children. You made yourself a gift for him, which he unwrapped and savored again and again. You were a delicacy, and Ajax took his care of you. Despite your bad behavior, he was truly in love with you, and he would never forget how you opened him your body, and how fire lited in your eyes, your breath became languid and rare, and all your nature leaned to him to release the pleasure that tensed in your lower abdomen when he was taking you passionately and slowly.

The blood was pounding in his temples. You had nowhere to run. He was inside your home. He came to take what was his.

'I... miss... you...' it was hard to talk, but he made a great effort – again, he did everything for you.

'Don't touch me!' Your voice raised to the highest notes as you screamed and huddled into a wall, protecting your head. 'I'm sorry! I'm very sorry! I didn't want to do this! I was just afraid!'

The big tears were streaming down your face – the best addition to the main dish.

Rotten hand touched your skin, and you jolted in disgust, trying to push him back.

'You threw me away like trash and buried me while I still was alive.'

From the stench and horror, you felt dizzy; when his cold, mushy lips touched your tightly closed mouth, you screamed, and he slipped his tongue down to your throat, enjoying the forgotten sensation. Gagging squeezed you, and the corpse worm was crawling on your face – your eyes filled with tears from abhorrence, and you punched Ajax in his head. You wanted to hit him again, but he grabbed your hand and gnawed in soft forearm, so brittle and tasty. Your scream pleased his ears.

He tossed you on the floor and rushed at you, bit through your neck, making guttural sounds from overwhelming pleasure. You hushed, choked in blood, stopped resisting. Ajax placed your leg over his shoulder, touched your skin with tongue, and then started to tear off the desired meat by small pieces.

Ajax didn't leave anything but the bones from you, as his voracious maw asked for more and more, and they were so lovely, so elegant – his little girl was beautiful even after death. He loved you; he loved you so much, and you never loved him back. Ajax could hear you crying inside him, he heard you screaming for forgiveness, but couldn't see you or touch you. Only your bones were looking at him with grief, and he hugged them, pressing the remnants of you to his chest.