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#blurry end evil
ra-vio · 7 months
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im supposed to be studying
#resident evil#resident evil 4#ada wong#I ACCIDENTALLY MADE THIS CANVAS SO SMALL SO I HAD TO RESIZE AND NOW ITS BLURRY AHHHHHHHH#its fine but ITS NOT FINE IT BOTHERS ME SO MUCH LOL#i had to switch mice for this. the other one was so slippery. i dunno if its because its wireless or whatever. that boy go NYOOM#changing the settings didnt help.#anyway. last week i finished the mercenaries and got leons rpd outfit. it was hell. it wasnt but i was in a rush so it was#i think after everything my favorite is still ada cause that grapple gun is everything. the hardest for me was krauser#krauser should have been the easiest cause you just knife everything but i kept slashing dynamite and had to redo the village like 10 times#it was absolute ass. he's the most broken character why would they do that to me#and then immediately after i started on my separate ways professional S+#its funny someone said the S+ was harder than base game. base game's pro S+ burnt me out so bad#i didnt touch the game for months afterward. separate ways S+ was a cake walk after. you dont even have to fight krauser ovo)b#the most difficult parts are probably the double garradors and the countdown to get to leon at the end#immediately after i got all my achievements I was plunged into a depression like no other. plus i had a discrete math midterm on friday#i am SO SAD. WHO WAS I BEFORE SEPARATE WAYS#i did the same silly thing i did when i drew Link. the shine in her hair says 'Ada' because i have to derive joy from somewhere
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schmweed · 10 months
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Background Roman & Gerri | S02E03
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makyurini · 1 year
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Hi :). Ugh, I absolutely loved your könig fic. If it’s not too much trouble, König with a breeding kink?? tysm💕✨
when i tell you i've been absolutely bonkers lately thinking of this... you're an evil genius and i thank you for that <;3 (also couldn't resist little hints of obsessive behavior and maybe a teeny tiny bit of submissive könig for a few lines maybe perhaps)
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cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, referred to as “mutter”, “mama”), talks of impregnating and being pregnant, könig kinda tosses reader around a lil bit, size kink, some marking (biting, scratching), a teeny tiny bit of choking if you squint, maybe even a lil bit of dumbification, very enthusiastic consent, implied no condom usage, not proof read bcoz my coochie wrote this, uhhh i think that's it?
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König has never been one to try and push boundaries. Though he isn’t shy by any means when it comes to exploring things in the bedroom, he’s all too aware of how easy it would be to accidentally hurt you, and he’s not sure how he would cope with that guilt. He doesn’t think he could handle it, truth be told, because he’s gentle by nature; always placing tender kisses wherever his lips will reach while his fingers wander, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he lowers his cock into you, making sure to provide you with snacks and water and comfort after every time you’ve spent lost in each other. He’s worked hard to earn your trust, and he’d rather bite his own tongue off than have your faith in him waiver
But he can’t deny that there are times he wants to let loose a little, to throw caution to the wind and fuck you without a worry in the world, to toss the condom to the side and bury himself in you so deeply neither of you are sure where he ends and you begin. It’s damn near painful to hold himself back, bite marks marred into his bottom lip serving as evidence of his restraint, but he does it with pride
That is, until the night you tell him it’s okay to let inhibitions go and allow instinct to take over
“Mein schatz, you feel so good,” König pants into your ear as he continues to thrust into you. “S-S-So fucking good. Oh my god, schnucki, I want to stay inside of you forever”
Two weeks without seeing each other has left you leaving open-mouthed kisses on each other’s bodies before König could even fully unlace his boots, all hungry teeth clashing and tongues raving until clothes were strewn about and restraint was left at the doorway. Pictures and video chat could never replicate the peace of having him with you, hovering over you with his stormy eyes boring into yours, his heart slamming against his chest as if it were trying to reach you. König, your König, with his calloused hands caressing your thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders. König with his scarred chest heaving and panting as he drills his throbbing cock into you. König with his addictive lips kissing and nibbling on your calves as you whine and wither beneath him. König with his rough voice spilling out praises and groans all over your body
König, König, König
Nothing could do him justice, truly, especially not blurry pictures and hushed phone calls late at night
“P-Please, König,” you whimper underneath him, and somehow find the strength to shimmy your legs down and attempt to wrap them around his waist, effectively trapping him. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop, please”
“Wouldn’t dream of it” One of his hands comes down to cup your cheek, and you twist your face so you can kiss his calloused palm. A breath catches itself in his chest, and he lets out a low groan before dipping his head down into the crevice of your neck. “Do you know what you do to me, liebling, how crazy you make me? God, du bist schön” You are beautiful. And god, does he mean it. More beautiful than any sunset, any summer storm, any night sky he has ever had the privilege to see. He thinks you might be an angel. He knows, at the very least, one is envious of you
Your legs around him tighten, and he thinks for a moment he sees heaven. “Show me,” you pant and dig your nails into his back, earning a surprisingly loud moan from him. “Show me how crazy I make you, König”
His hips falter for only a moment, a concerned look flashing across his face. “Are you sure, schatz? I don’t know how much I can hold back”
“I don’t want you to. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to”
And there’s a set determination in your eyes, a challenge, that despite the fact that you’re already covered in a thin blanket of sweat and your thighs and calves are littered with bite marks, you still think he’ll hold back. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to. But what if that means hurting you on accident? What if it means leaving more marks than either of you are prepared to take care of? What if it means you’ll never be able to trust him the same way again?
As if sensing his hesitance, you squeeze your thighs again, forcing him to look you in the eye; and when he does, all he can see is love and trust shining in your irises and that, he thinks, no matter what happens, he never wants you look at him any differently. That if he could, he’d take a snapshot of that expression and put it in a locket to hold close to his heart. Precious, so precious. He never wants to lose it, to lose you, to ever stray so far from you that he forgets what it's like to love and be loved in return. So he does the only thing he can think of in that moment: he presses your legs down so your knees are nearly touching your ears, and sets a near back-breaking pace as he thrusts his cock into you
It’s absolutely carnal the way he grabs and pulls at you, how easy it is for him to pin you down exactly where he wants you, how he can bend and twist your body in ways you didn’t even think possible. One hand twists and pinches at your nipples, the other grips the meat of your thigh to keep in you in place, and he's sure this is what heaven must feel like. Pretty sounds fall from your lips and crash against him like a hurricane, and he's never been more thankful to be a human before this moment, basking in everything you provide him with, bottling every little noise fluttering out of you and bottling it away for safe-keeping
“König,” you cry out, shaking hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you for some sense of stability. “König, fuck, f-feels so good, so full”
His eyes roll to the back of his head, hips slapping into the back of your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh more. “Oh gott, liebe, tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how much you need me. Tell me, schatz, tell me you want all of me like I want all of you”
Your fingers are nearly splitting through your skin with how tightly you’re holding onto the last few shreds of sanity, red mist dousing your bodies as evidence of your dedication and passion. He’s so pretty above you, all low growls and moans as he’s losing himself inside of you more and more, begging for just a little more. Tell me how much you love me so I feel okay about how obsessed I am with you. I’ll crack my ribcage open for you, just tell me how pretty red looks on me
“Wan’ all of you, König,” you babble underneath him, voice wobbly with tears and carnality. “Need you so bad! Please, need everything from you! Fuck me pregnant for all I fucking care, as long as it’s yours!”
It’s as though a beast takes over König's body, one he thought he kept locked away from you, far enough to never come close, hidden enough that he often forgets it’s there, claws capped and mouth muzzled as to not be tempted to listen to its growls. He isn’t sure what sends him over, whether it was hearing how desperate you are to cum or to hear you wouldn’t mind him getting you pregnant. In one swift movement, König has you sitting in his lap and is bouncing your limp body on his cock, trembling legs wrapped around his waist and heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder for support. He’s not quite gentle with you, not quite rough, just enough to let you know he’s a man on a mission to have you nice and round with his child
“Look so pretty,” he coos in your ear, the rough sound of skin slapping skin a direct [contradiction] to the tenderness in his tone. “You’d look so pretty with a big belly, yeah? Wearing my shirts and waddling around. Gonna be a good mama, aren’t you? Gonna be the best mutter to our pretty lil’ baby, hm?” His accent grows thicker and thicker the closer and closer he gets to the edge, and you find yourself squeezing down on him even more, without a thought, without a care, so long as you can milk him for every last drop. “Tell me, mama, who do you think the baby will look like more, hm? Do you think it’ll be tall as me? Have your nose? Gott, I hope it has your laugh. Tell me, mama, tell me you can’t wait to be the mutter of my child. Tell me you want to be pregnant and full with my baby. Tell me, mama, tell me, please”
“Wan’ be the mother of your child,” you manage to slur, face nestled in the crook of his neck and breathing in his musky scent as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, legs shaking the more the knot in your guts tighten. “Fuck, König, wan’ you to take care of me while I’m so pregnant I can’t do anything for myself. Wan’ you to fret over me and spoil me so our baby comes out happy and healthy”
And suddenly, König is wrapping his arms around you and squeezing onto you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. A part of you suspects that’s true. Another part, a part you’d rather ignore, hopes it’s true
“Ich komme gleich,” his rough voice pierces your ears. I’m going to cum. “Please, schatz, ich will in dir kommen” I want to cum inside you. “Lass mich in dir kommen, bitte, ich flehe dich an” Let me cum inside of you, please, I'm begging
“Cum, liebste, cum, cum, cum, please! Fuck, I’m gonna cum with you”
Your cries mix with his whines, and, just as abruptly as it all began, you’re both spilling over each other, praises and pleas and moans and whimpers pouring over your bodies and cocooning you in warmth and safety. Though he trembles beneath you, König gently nudges your forehead off of his shoulder so he can place a gentle kiss on your nose, then your cheek, and finally your lips, his cock spurting the last of his cum inside of you
Once he's sure you're both fucked out and blissful, he slides you off of his lap in order to inspect the mess on his thighs. Unsurprising to the both of you, some of his cum has managed to leak out of you, but he scoops it up and carefully slides it back into you, already half-hard at the thought of possibly fucking it back in you instead
“Do you really think I’d make a good mom?” you ask after he’s fetched you some water and a snack to nibble on. “Or was that just your way of going bareback?”
He playfully wrinkles his nose at your remark, and grins when you let out a snort. “I think you’d make the best mutter.” And his voice is so benevolent, full of so much adoration and love, that you can’t help but shyly smile up at him. He’s quick to place a chaste kiss on the crown of your head before getting up to wipe the sweat that gathered on his body, and you quickly swat at his bottom before he has a chance to dodge your hand
“What if I’m not pregnant though?”
The grin he flashes at you is such a perfect mixture of boyish and wolfish that, just for a breath, you forget what his profession is and good at it he is. “Then we’ll have to keep trying, won’t we?”
You have a funny feeling you’re going to be awfully busy for the next few months.
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Reblogs/comments are always appreciated! ♡
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bonchobrick · 1 year
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So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.
Or
Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.
——-
The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.
So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air
Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”
The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.
The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’
There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.
There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil
And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.
Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–
–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework
The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”
Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”
“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”
Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.
As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks
“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”
Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”
“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”
“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly
“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug
There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.
Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”
Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”
Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze
The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”
And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.
Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”
Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose
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d3arapril · 8 months
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nsfw modern!abby headcanons
you (1 person) ask.. i deliver. i love abby with my whole heart and i’m excited to share my thoughts <3 feedback is appreciated!
nsfw, 18+ only! mdni pls!
so let’s start with this, abby is a huge softie. we’ve all seen part 2, she’s SO caring and just wants her loved ones to be safe 😔 argue with the wall .
abby ✂️ loves ✂️ to ✂️ scissor.. she loves being skin on skin and feeling close to you
she’ll massage your leg as she holds it up on her shoulder, thin hairs falling from her braid and framing her face as she bites her lip and tries to keep her noises down bc she only wants to hear u and the wet noises ur both making
she also likes to pin ur wrists above ur head with one hand and if she’s feeling evil she’ll lift up a little, spit down onto your pussy and bend her arm around so she can fit 3 fingers into ur pussy whilst she’s grinding her clit into yours &lt;3 “you’re so greedy, baby…”
honestly shes kinda quiet during sex… she’ll utter words of praise every now and then but she mostly just whimpers/grunts and swears under her breath. think of the noises she makes when she’s feeling scared of heights heheiehie
but when she does use the strap 😮‍💨 GOLLY she likes when u go on top so she can just put her hands behind her head, lay back and watch u work for it
she also tried to nonchalantly flex and u cant help but laugh, ur movements faltering.. “abby stop fucking flexing you’re distracting me” “what’re you talking about? this is all natural babe 😏”
abs loves boobies <3 any size any shape she’s quite literally eating them up
u could both just be chilling in bed reading a book and she’ll have a hand up ur top just resting on ur boob, slightly calloused fingers moving to pinch ur nipple every so often.. she struggles to turn her page with just one hand.. u both give up on reading and get crafty ✂️ (if u know what i mean…sorry i’ll leave)
speaking of reading, u go down on her whilst she’s reading and challenge her to read aloud whilst you give her the best head of her life. she ripped a couple of pages in the book from gripping it so hard when she came. she got sad cos it was her favourite :( u got her a new copy :)
abby listens to classical music right? if she’s adamant on taking it slow and appreciating every inch of you she will have music on in the background. it’ll be pretty quiet but it helps her focus
ABBY FILMS IT 🗣️ (consensually. obviously) she likes to film when ur on top, films when you go down on her, props her phone up at the end of the bed and sits with her back to the headboard and your back pressed against her chest as she pulls the fourth orgasm out of you… “damn, should’ve put a towel down..” she whispers into ur ear, just low enough for the crappy microphone on her old iphone to not pick up
she watches the videos back whenever you’re apart and always bites her lip til it bleeds when shes watching that video and the screen becomes slightly blurry and those wet shlick noises from ur pussy grow louder and louder
she’ll facetime u straight after and politely ask u to recreate.. which u happily do
jerks it when she’s eating it 🤝 girlie finds so much pleasure in making u feel good and she can’t help herself.. moaning into ur pussy and begging you to come for her
wants to fuck on the couch/floor/literally anywhere other than the bed if you’ve got new sheets on the bed, modern abby is clean and tidy and get’s frustrated if her fresh sheets are dirtied
if she’s been to the gym she won’t let u touch her until she’s showered. you insist that u don’t care but she REFUSES bc she’s paranoid about being stinky
speaking of… one place she does love to fuck? THE SHOWER 🚿🚿🚿 its clean, wet and fun. what more could she want
takes u out for dinner, fucks u til ur makeup is smudged and you can’t stand all whilst not fully undressing each other and then u both get in the shower and the shower head becomes both of ur best friend :)
until the morning after when abby wakes up early to have a shower and almost has a heart attack when the high pressure setting almost rips the skin off her back
ok i can easily write more because i love abby and tbh i probably will….
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monimccoythings · 2 months
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Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)
This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.
This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.
All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.
Tw: mentions of death
tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog
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Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.
The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.
You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.
He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.
Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.
Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.
When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.
Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)
Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.
Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.
It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.
You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 8 months
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(Dark!) Scenario: Sexual Assault
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Pairing: Dark Ethan Landry x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SCENARIO: Ethan's girlfriend suffers sexual assault.
WARNINGS: Sexual Assault (Rape!) + Don’t read the end if your heart is weak.
Please, reblog and give me feedback.
--
The only person that would be more heartbroken than you is your boyfriend. You can see it in his face how much it hurt - broke - his heart that such a tragedy happened to you.
Blaming himself for what happened. He’s your boyfriend so you’re his responsibility. He should've been there to protect you, to shield you from the evil in this world. 
But he’s here for you now. Every therapy appointment, every medical exam, every police interrogation, he’s always there. Giving you a shoulder to cry on, drying your tears away, giving you all the love and support you need.
He’s the only person that makes you feel better as your whole world shatters. 
You never saw it coming. It’s one of those things that always happens to others, never you. And this time, you weren’t so lucky. 
That whole night is a blur, only shreds of it coming back. It was Halloween’ night party and you went out with your group of friends.
Ethan also tagged along but you vaguely remember kissing him goodbye as he left early because of a headache but not before practically demanding your friends to take good care of you. 
You remember the sharp lights, the banging music, the pushy crowd. A red plastic cup in your hand and while the content seemed normal at the first few gulps, it made you dizzy with a speed that wasn't natural. 
You remember stumbling back to your dorm, you’re not even sure how the hell you managed to walk back in the awful drunken state you were in.
You never saw his face, quickly manhandled into the bed with your face shoved on the bed as he fucked you from behind. You’re grateful for the blurry memories you have, only fragments of it coming back.
The punishing pace he had, like he was taking out his anger on you. The brutal thrusts that lasted forever as he furiously chased his high, ignoring the pain he was causing you. How strong he was, body weighing heavy on top of you, his hands holding your body down, making sure you didn’t get away from him. 
Ethan is the only one that doesn’t pressure you to remember things. Everyone asks for details - any small detail would help, they say - but Ethan allows you to hide in the darkness of the oblivion, maybe he knows that, deep down, you don’t really want to remember. You want to forget it. 
What happened changed you. 
You become more secluded, preferring the comfort of your house as you move back instead of going out. Nights out are a heavy no for you, not even your parents feel at ease with it and neither does Ethan, but you also don’t mind.
You join online college, effectively becoming a hermit. Hiding behind a screen makes you feel safe, people can’t judge you like that. 
Ethan frequently keeps you company after his classes and the two of you spend evenings in a lazy but comfortable way, watching movies or studying. It’s a nice routine and soon you get used to it.
He always hesitates before touching or kissing you and you feel grateful that he’s considerate of your feelings. His kisses are soft and short, never leading to anything more. He knows you still need time to heal from your trauma. 
You slowly push away your friends, avoiding their texts or invitations to hang out. Even when they come to visit you, you barely utter a few words. You don’t know why you’re doing it, maybe it’s a coping mechanism or maybe you blame them for what happened to you.
Maybe if they had stuck closer to you instead of leaving you on your own…
But it’s fine, you have Ethan and that’s all that matters. 
Hugs make you claustrophobic but not his. No, having Ethan’s strong arms around you makes you feel protected, secured. Like no bad thing in this world can get to you. 
One day Ethan comes to your house only to rush back  to the college, having forgotten a book of his. You chuckle when you notice he left his phone behind, but you let it be. He’ll be back soon, anyways.  
You only wanted to check for any games he could have on his phone, but the sweet collection of photos he has in his gallery distracts you. 
It makes your heart melt when you look at them. Dozens of pictures of you and Ethan light up the screen and you fondly recognize them as most of them were taken by you. 
You almost pout when they come to an end and you decide to check his cloud for more photos, he probably has more there given how he likes to keep everything safe in his online account. 
But the warm smile soon slips from your face, heart dropping to your stomach as a video automatically starts playing. 
And you’re in it. 
It’s a bit hard to see, only a dim light illuminating the room but you know it’s you. 
That’s you, pressed against the bed as Ethan hovers over you, his movements never stopping even as you cry. 
Your boyfriend is the one that assaulted you.
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little-pondhead · 1 year
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Some fic because I love your au, Fenton is gender brainrot, and little baby dan cracks me up. Full disclosure, my only familiarity with DC is DP crossover fanfic, and a Batman movie I fell asleep during. (If I had a better grasp on the characters I would totally write more :(( i love interactions) also sorry for the weird spacing. Idk why tumblr did that
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There was an empty cardboard box on the table of the Justice League’s main conference room. Taped on the top flap, next to a doodle of Fenton’s logo, was a jump drive.
Heaving a sigh, Batman plugged it in and pulled up his screen on the projector. The drive, which was named “little baby dan’s evil playtime”, contained two files; WATCH_ME_FIRST.mp4 and its-a-secreeeet.pdf. He clicked on the video file, and immediately the projector filled with a blurry close-up of Fenton’s goggles.
After a moment of fiddling with the camera, Fenton stepped back, giving a cheery wave. His lab coat and goggles were a pastel pink, which was new. “Heeeeya, Bats! Whoever else is there! If you’re watching this, you probably weren’t there when I dropped the box off, aaand it’s probably empty.”
He clapped his hands together gleefully. “And Connie, if you’re there, this is payback for cussing around my daughter.” Batman was instantly relieved that Constantine wasn’t on base. Hopefully the situation wouldn’t require Constantine’s expertise. (Or any of the Justice League Dark. Fenton seemed determined to drive them all to an early grave with his casual refusal to acknowledge the supernatural air around him.)
“Now, as you’re all heroes, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the whole,” Fenton paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper words. “”You ate a burger on a Tuesday or something equally inane, and it kickstarted a series of events that led to you going insane and evil and murdering 95% of the Earth’s population and now you must fight your evil alternate self, because your time-controlling cryptid Peepaw said so,” shtick, so I’ll skip the backstory. Say hi to Dan!” Fenton grabbed the camera, and Batman quickly jotted down several notes about the concerning number of things the boy had just said.
The camera swiveled around to show Nightingale, holding a strange beast in a manner that reminded Batman of an “elongated cat meme” Nightwing had shown him when he was still a Robin. The creature bared a maw full of razor sharp fangs at the camera. Nightingale adjusted her grip to hold the creature’s paw and make it wave, which evoked a deep growl.
“Haha, he’d kill me if I did that. Dan likes Nightingale much more than he likes me.”
“Because the worst she has ever done is attempt to shoot me.”
The camera had moved, so Batman couldn’t visually confirm that the deep voice had come from the creature, but the voice didn’t match any of Fenton’s previously revealed companions. “Yeah yeah, her aim sucked back then.” Fenton gave the camera a toothy grin that was only slightly less unnerving than the creature’s. “Dan’s not technically me, he’s much more like Dani, actually, but the world would probably end again if we left him with his other... What did you call him?” Fenton glanced offscreen.
“Bane of my accursed existence.”
Fenton chucked. “The other half responsible for his existence.” Batman added more notes to his file. “So, yeah, Clocky left him with us for a bit to help along his rehab. But a certain psychologist-in-training I know says that repressing rage isn’t healthy, and even without a lot of his powers, he can wipe out most of a city in- what, an hour? We tested it. It was around an hour.”
Everyone present shared a look of deep concern. As if able to see their reaction, Fenton quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry! Clocky reset it. Approximately zero people have died from Dan in this timeline.”
“Yet.” Came a furious rumble from off-screen.
“Yes, you’re very scary.” They heard Nightingale coo.
Fenton laughed. “Yeah, we need him- and all of you, -out of our hair for a bit while we concoct more evil plans, and you’re all the least likely to die to him, so you get to babysit! Thanks!”
He reached to shut off the camera before pausing and turning away. “Foley! Which of the furries is the one who really likes animals?”
“Man, do you realize how that sounds out of context?” Foley laughed. “I think Tim said it’s the little one. Damian?”
Fenton nodded and turned back to the camera. “Don’t let Damian try to adopt Dan. Or anyone. Dan will bite their hands off. I mean it!” To emphasize his point, he removed one of his hands.
Batman sighed and added “ability to remove limbs” to a list of Fenton’s powers.
“I’ll include a list of “tasks”” Fenton’s disembodied hand made finger quotes, “we gave Dan to keep him occupied. There’s some at the bottom for you guys. They’re mostly just blatant abuse of his powers for the sake of fun and science. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him mark things off the list and add notes on how it goes. Or you can do it. Or I can steal your cameras. Your choice.”
He thought for a second. “I think you’re supposed to leave, like, pizza money or something, but I don’t think you can get pizza delivered to space. Anyway, thanks for letting me blab your ears off while Dan’s probably committing war crimes for twelve minutes. For your sake, I hope he inherited my interest in space. Good luck! Thanks for babysitting!”
Waving with his still detached hand, Fenton ended the video. Batman closed it and opened the PDF as the few other members present murmured amongst themselves. Most of the pages were filled with a curling script Batman didn’t recognize. The fourth page had a huge, bolded header, reading JP TASKS.
The door opened and shut in half a second as the Flash burst in. “Superman!” The speedster wailed. “I can’t get this thing off of me!”
The Flash waved his arm around, sending small droplets of blood flying as he tried to dislodge the creature sinking his teeth into the speedster’s arm. Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his cowl as Superman quickly lent his super strength in attempt to pry the creature’s jaw open. Dan didn’t budge.
Well, he could certainly see the family resemblance been Fenton, Dani, and Dan. Shaking his head, he turned back to the list.
Task 1: Find Dan. He’s probably attacking someone.
He highlighted the text and crossed it out. This was going to be a long shift.
[Anon, this is me crying over the wonderful gift you have given me. You bastard.]
---
"Do you think Fenton's regeneration powers extend to his..." Green Lantern frowned, trying to remember the word the kid had used but coming up blank. "I dunno. But do you think if we cut off little Dan here, he'll heal back up with no problem?" He gestured helplessly to the scene in front of him. Flash was still screeching about the beast on his arm, and now Superman and Wonder Woman were trying to pry him off. Batman was standing to the side, silently bemoaning the lack of quiet. He just wanted one peaceful shift. Just one. Please.
"I'd like to see you try, hero. And I'm not little." Dan spoke, startling all of them. His grip on Flash's arm tightened, making the speedster squeal before releasing the man and spitting out a mouthful of his blood. Batman noticed that his mouth didn't move despite the clearly spoken words. In fact, when Dan closed his mouth, it was like he didn't have one at all.
"So you do speak!" Superman marveled.
"Of course I do. I am not unintelligent, unlike you lot."
Despite his pain, Flash still made sounds of protest that everyone promptly ignored.
Superman flushed. "I just wasn't sure. It was hard to tell in the video."
"Ah, yes. The video that the Fenton menace sent you. Was there a note for me in the flash drive?"
"Uh, no." In one of his less finer moments, Green Lantern stuttered over his words and moved in front of Batman, obviously lying. Dan merely growled and flew through both men, heading straight for the giant monitor. Batman barely suppressed a shiver. Density shifting? Might as well add it to the list. He could see Martian Manhunter, who was in the back of the room, tilt his head at the display.
Dan ignored the room as he used his entire body to manipulate the computer mouse and scrolled back up to the top of the page. Staring intently at the scribbles no one could make out, the heroes could do nothing but shoot each other nervous and confused glances. More than a few of them jumped when Dan chuckled deeply. Honestly, his tiny body was at complete odds with his baritone voice.
"Maybe rehab will be fun if he's letting me do this." Dan sneered, flashing their reflections a sharp fang. No one wanted to ask what exactly he was in rehab for. The little beast turned his gaze to Batman. "You are the one called Batman, who rules the cursed city, correct?" The dark hero nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. "Excellent. You will be my chaperone for now, just as Fenton decreed it. Good luck, mortal man. Pray, I do not destroy your home a second time."
Without any time to unpack that conversation, Dan promptly disappeared from view. Some blinking text caught his attention, and Batman scrolled back down to the English text, glancing at the next few items on the list.
Task 2: Do not let Dan read his portion of this letter until you have a way to track him. There is no containing him.
Task 3: Keep him with a chaperone at all times. (If you can)
Task 4: Do not let Dan back into Gotham unless you're fine with a sudden decrease in the clown population.
Task 5: Take him for a walk in Death Valley. He likes hunting lizards.
Task 6: Make sure he goes down for his 2pm nap every day.
Task 7: He'll ask for it, but do not give him any burgers for mealtime. It upsets his stomach.
Task 8: Dan gets ONE(1) sweet after dinner before brushing his teeth. Those green pop rocks Batman always carries will do fine; he likes those. :)
A sudden alarm blared from his wristwatch, making Batman tear his eyes away from the screen, indicating an emergency at Arkham. This time, Batman actually sighed out loud. There was more to the list, but right now, he really needed to find their new charge before he killed the Joker, from the sound of it.
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white-sinner · 11 months
Note
Poly Yandere Alphas Asano & Karma x Male Beta reader (assassination classroom)
They force reader to wear a collar with their names on it.
Marking, reader being tied up, degrading, sadism, treating reader like a pet.
They say many things that bring down beta’s, and how they wish he was an omega, how much better he would be if he was. That he shouldn’t worry, they’ll still like him regardless of the fact that he’s a beta. Stuff like that.
Please?
you can try to resist but this is a challenge that you too know you will lose..
WARNING: kidnapping, threats, force collaring, knives, marking, sadism, sex, mention of pheromone
A/N: are we all aware that these two as yandere would be impossible to stop? with the controlled/rational personality of Asano and the sadistic one of Karma I think our dear Male reader has no hope of getting out of this fall into hell
Orange=Asano
Red=Karma
Black=reader
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a couple of hidden lovers born in the seventh grade who despite the difference in classes continue to live and be stronger and stronger but what will happen when these two Alphas find in M ​​/ n the omega they were looking for?
for Karma and Asano it had never been difficult to get along their two characters intertwined perfectly but then there was a change when 3-E of Kunugigaoka Junior High moved M/N L/N a beta, the first to notice it was Karma who was truly amazed by your skills against Korosensei not to mention your splendid personality and your scent which, despite you being a Beta, goes more sweet like vanilla and caramel since you arrived Karma feel a strong sense of protection and with your being kind but also knowing how to stand up to him,he understand that you were the missing omega that he and Asano were looking for but despite your being Beta he didn't care you were definitely a omega for him and no one could change his mind. obviously Karma as a good alpha and boyfriend reported everything to Asano who thanks to social networks, acquaintances and stalking in the end he too fell in love with you so the two devised a plan to get you
the two of them started leaving on your desk, folder and even mailing them to your home! they started giving you anonymous teddy bears/t-shirts and even used underwear…. now if you were an omega you got those things for your nest and as a clear sign of courtship that an alpha wanted to make you his but being you a beta you couldn't even recognize whose scent it was but things got worse in class when yet another soft toy appeared on your counter
“Another gift from your secret admirer?”
“I wouldn't call him a secret admirer but more perverted stalker *huf* I swear Nagisa if this dude doesn't finish it I'm going straight to the cops why doesn't he go fuck a bitch instead of bothering me"
poor man M/N he didn't know that the "pervert" he was talking about was watching him Asano was out of class and Karma near the window
in the chats between Karma and Asano
“it seems that your plan has failed”. my beloved psychopath 8:13
"I notice ugh he's getting on my nerves why he doesn't understand we're just trying to make him understand that he belongs to us?" my control freak 8:15
“now now don't get angry maybe our dear M/N needs to be put in his place and submit to his mates”. my beloved psychopath 8:16
so Karma stopped you outside school after class was over but as he spoke to you he took your hands and pinned you in the wall as ticked off Asano who with a syringe the rest was too blurry to remember
you woke up tied to a chair and in front of you with an evil smile your two captors
“but coincidentally, it seems the bitch woke up "
“wha-Karma Asano?!"
“Is this the way to address your mates? it seems that our omega likes to be punished”
what the hell were they saying omega, mates have they gone crazy?!
“haha look at that really adorable confused and scared expression”
“what the heck are you saying are you crazy I'm not an omega! release me immediately you ugly sons of bit-*slap*
” ugh and so that you address your alphas! first you called us perverts then this… I think you need to learn some of the rules Bitch”
at that moment Karma untied you and threw you on the bed and he cut your pants with his knife
"it's a real pity that you're not an omega right now you could be in heat and we would have helped you little slut"
said Asano while he was thrusting his cock into you without even getting ready!
“aAasano stop…Mmhm~”
“nonono this is not the way you call us”
Karma approached with the knife making a cut on your lips and then licking them
“so tell us bitch are we really perverts like you said?”
"to me the only bitch looks like you M/n look at Asano he's not fucking you even for 15 minutes and you already look like you're about to pass out"
continued Karma before he positioned himself on your face putting his cock in your mouth by now those two were gone in sync it was too much for you after a while Karma painted your throat white and you came
“wouldn't you like to be an omega? being inside a nest made with our clothes feeling the need to obey your alphas…having our children inside you”
“mmm after all look at you you are already below us for being a beta you are a shame”
they continued while karma came for the second Once Asano hadn't come yet! karma take his members off you and kiss you furiously making your tongue stick out and came again
“you know M/N you are really cute when you cry but I think you need to remind you who you belong to”
with that he took the knife and carved his initials and Asano's on your arm while you cried in pain and Karma licked your blood Asano came inside you
"if you were an omega by now with us you'd already be pregnant so you couldn't open your legs to anyone and you won't"
he approached your ear and whispered to you
“try to escape from us and we will kill all your loved ones remember the packages we know where you live"
having said this the two of them attacked your throat covering it with hickeys. a few minutes later and Asano also came out of you
"we have a gift for you go get it Asano"
Asano come back with a red streak collar and an orange heart with Karma Akabane and Gakushu Asano properties written behind it
"that's it, what are you saying Asano him Isn't he just adorable?”
“very Karma so how do you say M/N when your mates give you a present?”
you answered Asano in a low voice even though he was out of you you still felt him inside
” thanks Asa-“
“I think you were wrong try again or do you want to be punished”
“thanks alphas…”
before you could say anything other karma and Asano they made you spread on their chest and they ignited you with something
“don't worry M/N although you are a beta we love you the same but wouldn't it be better to be an omega? betas are less strong than alphas and more useless than omegas and then to be a beta you are a shame you smell so sweet and you let yourself be used as a sex toy"
" this syringe contains omega hormones we will continue to give it to you for a while you will see that in a short time you will assume your true behaviors "
you wanted to fight back but you were too tired so you closed your eyes hoping to wake up from this nightmare
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azrielsdove · 3 months
Text
Love and Loss: Ch.9
Warnings: Violence, Angst
Ch.8 Here | Ch.10 Here
***
“Rhysand!” Azriel bellowed into the night, wind and rain lashing his face. He didn’t even feel the cold seeping through his wings, mind entirely focused on finding the pathetic excuse of a male. His shadows were searching wildly, waiting for any signal that the High Lord was near.
A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, showing the winged figure flying quickly away. Azriel growled, darting towards it. All rational thought had been ripped from his brain as he flew through the heavy storm, dark anger clouding his vision. He didn’t think twice before sending his shadows out and wrapping them tightly around the other males wings.
Rhysand gave a shout of pain as he tumbled a short distance before breaking free of the shadows. “You don’t want to go against me, Azriel! I won’t go easy on you this time.” His sneering words only fueled Azriel’s rage, the memory of their fight five hundred years ago pushing him along.
He wouldn’t let Rhysand sweet talk his way out of this one.
“You’re disgusting, Rhysand! What sick game do you play as your mate hides away from you? You think she will truly love you, seeing what you are?” Azriel hovered feet from his brother, watching the violet of his eyes blaze.
“You will never understand the bond Feyre and I have. I can offer her the world, and I intend to do so. Where is your mate, Brother?” A wicked smile crossed his face.
“Oh, that’s right! I married her.”
Azriel didn’t hear the yell that ripped from him as he shot towards Rhysand, hands wrapping around the High Lords throat. Those violet eyes flared before a rush of darkness pulled Azriel away, locking his wings to keep him from flying. He was plummeting to the ground, the rain like knives against his skin. He broke free from Rhysands power with a great roar, rocketing back up to where he hovered.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He yelled, a blue light of power hurtling through his brother’s wing. Rhysand gave a great cry and fell toward the woods below, his remaining wing flapping wildly. He winnowed at the last second, landing easily a few feet down. Azriel landed next to him, hands curled into fists.
Rhysand managed a laugh, looking over the Shadowsinger. “You truly think I didn’t realize? That I didn’t know the second you came to me, begging I leave her alone? I saw it then, even if you didn’t.” He flared his injured wing out, wincing even as his fae healing was already working through it. Azriel’s mind was reeling, processing the words Rhysand had said.
He shook his head. “No. I’m done with your games Rhysand. Nothing you say is credible.” Rhysand smirked again, the never-ending arrogance rolling off him.
“I enjoying pleasing her in front of you, watching how jealous you would get. Do you enjoy the sound of her moans? Her cries?” He took a step closer, pure evil on his face. “Too bad she will never forget the way I touched her. How can you compare to the High Lord?”
Red flooded Azriel’s gaze and he was on top of his brother in a second. Rhysand was taken aback by the speed at which he moved, his shock allowing Azriel to pin him underneath his body as the Shadowsinger began punching his face in. “You. Are. Nothing. To. Her.” Each word was accented by his fists meeting the handsome face of the High Lord, rain and blood mixing together.
Azriel didn’t care if he killed him.
Rhysand was trying to use his power against Azriel, but the sheer force of his incessant pummeling was rendering the male unable to focus. Rhysand had the fleeting thought that he may die like this, at the hands of his own brother. Perhaps he deserved that.
A shout came from somewhere else and Azriel was ripped off of Rhysand, a voice that sounded a million miles away yelling at him. He was thrown to the ground as a blurry figure tended to Rhysand, seeing how bad his wounds are. Azriel wasn’t aware of the tears streaking down his face, drawing paths in the blood that had splattered from his brother. He didn’t feel the burning pain where his hands had split open to the bone, the force of his attack on Rhysand so extreme.
He sat there in the rain as Rhysand was carted away and the figure approached him. The far-away voice was calling his name, shaking him to get his attention. Even if he wanted to respond, he couldn’t. So there he sat, red staining his skin and rain soaking him to the bone.
“Oh, that’s right! I married her,” playing in his mind, over and over.
***
READER POV
You sat by the window, watching the sky outside. You felt that maybe the gods had chosen the sudden storm to match your emotions, tears running down your face in time with the rain. How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly? You knew better than to trust Rhysand’s words, you knew you never should’ve believed he might change. He was cold and cruel, and that was that. You felt like a fool for allowing hope to enter your mind.
And Azriel…your chest tightened as you thought about him. Something about him felt so right, so different from Rhysand. He had been the one you could wholly trust, until tonight. Your heart ached at his betrayal. How could he allow you to enter a marriage that he knew was wrong? The small voice in the back of your mind reminded you of Rhysands manipulation tactics, how good he was at getting you to do his bidding. You were certain he pulled the same to Azriel.
It didn’t matter, you told yourself. Azriel had been a part of this lie, the last five centuries all a lie. You were humiliated, hurt, and terribly sad. Rhysand had been your everything for so long. You were chalking up his behavior to what happened Under the Mountain, to his mating bond with Feyre. You didn’t think it would come out that he was always like this.
Your heart broke for your younger self, the innocent girl who was in love with her High Lord. Your heart broke for yourself now, for the love you thought you would find in Azriel. Only to be broken by finding out his part in the lie of your life.
Loud, incessant knocking broke you out of your thoughts. You ran to the door and opened it, assuming you would find Azriel. Instead Cassian stood in front of you, blood covering his hands. “You need to come with me. It’s Az.” Your tears dried instantly as you followed him out of the house. The blood…what had happened?
Cass lead you to where Azriel sat on his knees in the rain. You gasped at the bones showing through the skin on his hands, the blood covering his body. “He won’t move. I can’t get through to him. It’s like he’s disappeared inside himself. I found him out here, with Rhysand.” You looked sharply to Cassian, wondering what the High Lord had done this time. Cass shook his head.
“Azriel was on top of him, beating him to death. If I had arrived a few minutes later I don’t think Rhysand would have made it. I don’t know what happened, but you need to try to get him to talk. I know Rhys has been awful, but he can’t murder the High Lord.” You shuddered to think of the repercussions of that. As much as Rhysand probably deserved a good beating, his death would cause problems through all of Prythian. Likely, it would cause Azriel’s own death as well.
The thought made you sick.
You cautiously walked over to Azriel, kneeling in the wet grass in front of him. A chill ran through your body as you took in his destroyed hands, the mix of his and Rhysands blood on his body. “Az?” He didn’t respond. You moved to be in his line of sight, trying to get him to focus on you. You shoved down the feeling to jump at his empty eyes, instead pulling his damaged hands into yours. “What happened, my love?” Your voice was a whisper, a plea to the gods to help him.
You turned back to Cassian. “Bring me the healing kit from the cabin. I’ll try to stop his bleeding, see if that can help him.” You hope he didn’t notice the slight shake in your words. Your attention went back to Azriel while you waited for the supplies to fix his hands. “I know you’re in there, Az. Please, look at me.”
Silence.
Cassian was back, handing you the kit you had requested. You pulled out a needle and thread, the action too similar to just a few hours ago with Rhysand. How had everything gone so wrong in such a short amount of time?
You used the wet skirts of your gown to wipe the blood away the best you could before carefully stitching him up. “You did not cause the downfall of my marriage,” you began, needing to fill the horrible quiet. “I understand his manipulations all too well. As hurt as I am that you knew he was lying, I know how easy it is to be trapped in his games.”
You moved to the next hand. “In it all, I was always drawn to you. You were my closest friend, the breath of fresh air I needed. I wonder now if I was drawn to you for another reason. If my heart somehow knew I had chosen wrong, that you were the one for me.” A sad laugh escaped you. “How pathetic, isn’t it? You were there all along, and I didn’t see you.”
You finished the second hand, pulling bandages out to wrap over the stitches. “You’ve always been there for me, Az. My protector. And I was allowing my husband to torture you for 500 years.” You shook your head. “I should’ve seen it sooner.” You held his now-bandaged hands in your own, looking up at him.
You nearly jumped out of your skin to see him looking back.
“What i’m trying to say, Az, is I love you. I love you deeper than I ever thought possible. When i’m around you I feel complete, like part of my soul is home. It’s always been you, hasn’t it?” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, hoping he was feeling the same.
He stared at you.
Your confidence faltered. “Please, say something. Anything.” You would rather he reject you than continue being this shell of a person. You needed to see that he was going to be okay.
You felt sick when he pulled his hands from yours, still not saying anything. You ducked your head, hot tears sliding down your face. Was it too much all at once? Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown that at him, when he was clearly in no state to receive it. You moved to stand, embarrassed by what had happened.
Hands gripped onto your waist, pulling you forcefully down to the Shadowsinger. You gasped in surprise, looking up at him. He dipped his head down to yours, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He kissed you like it was the last thing he would do, the only thing he could do. You fisted your hands into his soaking shirt, welcoming the taste and feel of him. He pulled away once you were both gasping for air, resting his forehead on yours.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” he whispered, hazel eyes shining. “I never should have allowed him to even look at you.” The words came out in a growl, and you couldn’t deny the heat that flickered in you at his tone.
“It’s not your fault,” you soothed, raising a hand to cup his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed.
“It is. I could’ve stop it. Should’ve stopped him.”He moved his head, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. “I knew you were made for me.”
You ignored the skip in your heartbeat at his words, at the implication they held. Now was not the time to delve into that. “Come home with me, Azriel. Away from this place.” He nodded, eyes still closed at your touch. You wrapped your arms around him and began winnowing the two of you away to Velaris.
***
Rhysand healed perfectly fine. He went to Feyre the next day, and their mating bond was sealed. Of course, no one told you this. You knew when you woke up in pain, a searing burn traveling down your arm. You had raised it in fright, certain you had caught fire.
Instead, you watched as the marriage tattoo disappeared from your skin.
He had released you.
It didn’t bring you the joy you thought it would. Not when Azriel was still half of himself, a ghost in the dark. His shadows interacted with you more than he did. You brought him food and drink, all of which he left untouched.
Cassian returned once the business at the camp was over, concerned for his brother as well. “I’d never seen him in such an uncontrollable rage before,” he said, drinking the coffee you had made. “He was someone else in that moment.”
You sipped from your own mug, thinking over everything that had happened. “Azriel knew. That Rhys was only using me. I imagine 500 years of anger can turn a person irrational.” Cassian murmured his agreement, the two of you standing in silence.
You sighed, turning to the stove and setting your mug down. “Will you take this to him?” You asked Cass, handing him two bowls of soup you had just finished. “He won’t take anything from me. I think he’s too ashamed. Maybe he will eat with you?”
He took the warm bowls, nodding. “I’ll try.”
You gave him a grateful smile and started cleaning up the dishes you had used. Cassian left, determined to get Azriel to eat. You hummed as you cleaned the kitchen, lost in thought. You were concerned Azriel was going to wither away to nothing, in both body and mind. You couldn’t seem to get through to him. You were beginning to wonder if Cassian was able to when you heard a loud bang and shouting coming from down the hall.
You paused, looking towards the doorway. Azriel appeared in it, eyes wild. Cassian was a few feet behind, waving his arms at you. “Go! You need to go!” You didn’t understand why he was so panicked.
“What is wrong?” You asked, looking between the two males. Azriel moved closer, caging you against the counter behind you.
“Did you make the soup?” His voice was low, eyes dark. You nodded, unsure if he was upset with you or came to say it was the most delicious meal he ever had. “Why would you do that?”
You blinked. “You haven’t eaten. Why should I let you starve?” You looked behind him to Cassian, who seemed prepared for a fight.
Azriel leaned closer, nose dragging along your neck. “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he growled, breath fanning over your skin. You couldn’t help the way you arched into him, the way his touch drove you crazy.
“Why not?” Your voice was shaky, his hands coming to rest on your waist. Your eyes caught Cassians behind him again, shifting on his feet.
“Apparently,” he started, clearing his throat. “You two are mates.”
***
this may end up being slightly longer than i thought….but still close to the end!! i’m sorry this chapter took so long to get out!! please let me know what you think <3
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* crossed out blogs it wouldn’t let me tag! if i missed you this time please let me know if you’d like to be tagged :)
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pencildragons · 3 months
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i keep thinking about norris and chester/jon and martin (assuming they ARE jon and martin, which is a whole different kettle of red canaries) and whether or not they'll end up Becoming Conscious and Manifesting As Characters and of course the easy way out is that their bodies are lying around in some web-adjacent lair in fucking . idk southern wales or something but what is INFINITELY FUNNIER is if their bodies are poof gone vanished and they have to be transferred into some sort of storage medium. can u imagine. there is already excellent fanart of them as furbies. put those boys into google glass and have them blurry and out of focus and telling sam he has 14 new emails and they're all evil. apologies jon i am a 7th generation ipod touch
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actual-changeling · 7 months
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"Well, that went down like a lead balloon."
Crowley did not sneak up on him this time, it was more of an ungraceful drag or stumble with one hand pressed against the still-bleeding cut on his stomach. Aziraphale turns his head to look at him, his eyes lingering on the soot and bruises smeared across his skin, but stays silent when Crowley shakes his head exactly once.
Don't.
"It did, rather," he says instead, as the space around them empties slowly but surely. Stopping the second coming had been exactly like the first apocalypse and nothing like it at the same time. They're both a bit singed, for starters.
"You think we overreacted? Second offence and all."
Crowley tentatively lifts his hand, grimacing when blood-soaked fabric sticks to his palm and tugs on the wound. It would barely require a miracle to heal it, but he is currently quite comfortable in the limbo of not knowing whether the destruction of heaven and hell erased his celestial powers or not.
"Someone had to teach them the real difference between good and evil," Aziraphale continues lightly, leaning into the twisted mirror of their first conversation on the walls of Eden.
"I'm pretty sure they regret sending me up here to 'cause trouble' by now."
Trying and failing to sound humorous, Crowley bites back a groan. Fatigue washes over him wave after deadly wave, and he considers simply allowing himself to fall to the concrete floor when a hesitant arm slides around his waist and pulls him closer, conscious of his injuries.
Crowley freezes for a second before leaning into it, processing the sudden influx of touch and heat as one big, blurry embrace, and it is such a welcome contrast to the painful reality scratching at his bones that his eyes flutter shut. Aziraphale holds him both gently and as if he is never going to let go of him again; unsurprisingly, he finds he doesn't mind that at all.
They stand in amicable silence, swaying slightly without really meaning to, and although both of them want to go home, they cannot imagine a place that would fit that description better than each other's presence.
"You did the right thing," Aziraphale eventually says, and Crowley forces himself to blink up at him, blue meeting gold meeting love.
"With the apple, and trying to make me see the truth, and with not coming to heaven with me. I'm sorry I caused you so much pain." His voice breaks at the end, trailing off into an ocean of unspoken confessions and feelings, but Crowley is pretty sure he couldn't handle more anyway, not right now.
He presses a hand against Aziraphale's cheek to tilt his head towards him, grimacing when he leaves bloody prints behind.
"Angel." It's a name, an endearment, a prayer, a decree, a question. A curse, and a plea, and a promise.
"I'm still mad," is all Crowley whispers before nudging their lips together, tasting blood, ash, and the dawn of something entirely unknown and new.
I still love you, is what lies beneath it.
For the first time in their existence, they're truly free. When it begins to rain, they tip their faces towards the sky and welcome it home.
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angelstate · 4 months
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Husband!Price x Wife!reader
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Captain Price isn’t a good man, he never claimed to be one and barely fills the requirements to be considered a moral being in the most mundane aspect of questioning life scenarios he is put to experience over and over again as he grows consciously older.
He knows just how tarnished he is, how dirty his hands are with blood, and how the closest he’ll ever get to heaven is by your side, and in all honesty, he wasn’t a man who craved a peaceful afterlife, nor did he crave for the existence of the promised afterlife his religious mother talked to him about every night to be true. 
Your existence is the only thing that soothes his aching heart, the only person who makes him feel better and unconsciously worse for being the man he is. Because you hold him so gently, speak so softly, and mutter praises for putting his life on the line, for losing morals so the entirety of the world didn’t lose theirs.
He feels as if it’s rotten work to love him, a tortuous action you keep because of the high morals he was never able to develop or comprehend. He sees you as a Martyr for staying with him when he continuously leaves you, disappearing to fight the evils of the world he knows won’t be eradicated anytime soon. 
Aren’t you the kindest of angels for guarding him everywhere he goes, a photo of you hidden in a small pocket on his hat, the smell of your sweet perfume on his suitcase “so you don’t forget my smell” you explained while saying goodbye to him at the door of your home. Oh, sweet angel, he will never forget you.
He usually doesn’t make promises he can't keep, not wanting to feed false hope to the people he cares for, but when you stare at him with teary doe eyes and a pretty smile on your lips because you refuse to cry in front of him, refuse to that be the last expression he sees on your face if the inevitable thing that is death happens to him in the battlefield and not in your arms, of old age with a peaceful mind, he feels compelled to promise his return, to ease your mind and take away the crushing pressure on his chest.
he would die for his teammates, but he would live for you.
“Try and return to me” you whisper in his ear, kissing him on the cheek before pulling away, you have no idea what he would do to ensure he finds his way into your arms one more time before perishing. “Of course, love” he replies, voice gruff yet holding an endearment he only has for you. 
And he remembers your last conversation with pain because Captain Price isn’t a good man, but Jonathan Price is, your Johny is a good man, one who holds you close to his chest at night despite his aching bones from War and violence, who opens the door for you and buys you flower every Sunday after church.
But tonight the night sky has a dooming dark he has never seen before, and the stars above him as he bleeds out on the soil are too blurry to stargaze the way he does with you back home, there is no grass on the floor to soothe the ache of his sore bones the way the backyard of your home does.
He knows he has never been a religious person, never been one to have a relationship with God, but you do, he knows you pray for him to return safe every day he is away from you, so tonight, knowing he isn’t returning to you, he prays for you. he prays for God to be kind to your soul and guide a new lover your way, one who won’t die thousands of miles away from you, one with a body to bury when death catches up to them. 
He prays for nothing more than for God to allow you to live peacefully the rest of your time while his time reaches an end in a secluded place on earth, looking at your picture for one last time before pressing it close to his heart with the hand that has his wedding band, feeling his skin slowly match the temperature of the cold material, his last heartbeats only known by the picture of you and him, a last secret to share with you.
Husband!Price prays for the afterlife to be real, so he can have a chance of seeing you again someday. 
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youryanderedaddy · 5 months
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Are you still writing about Edgar?
Yeah but I yassified him (he's evil now) (well, more evil)
tw: female reader, non - con, cockwarming, snuff (watching), threats, captivity, abuse, hinted murder (not reader), degradation
My Ko - fi <3
You shudder, leaning back against his hard shoulders. You can feel the hot sweat sticking to your skin and you want to scratch at your body in a desperate attempt to feel yourself clean and proper again - but this isn’t an option when you’re so stuffed you feel like your insides are going numb. Of course this doesn’t stop the killing machine taking the appearance of a man from pounding into you even harder, short staccato thrusts that leave you breathless. You’re starting to notice the pattern - he’s slow in the beginning while you still have energy to keep up and gets meaner and meaner, bullying his way into your cervix as you get tired and sloppy.
“Keep your eyes on the fucking screen.” Edgar hisses in your ear with one meaty fist wrapped around your throat tight like a leash. Your legs are spread as far as they can go without dislocating, and despite all his hushed threats that leave you gagging, you still want them intact at the end of the torture session. You blink through the thick tears glued to your eyelashes and make an effort to focus on what’s happening on the small black and white TV. There is a girl. She’s screaming. She’s bleeding. A big buff guy with a chainsaw is taunting her - and you tell yourself it’s just a movie; it’s all fake. The blood, the cruel laughter, the scorching screams, the shivers they send down your spine. Such good actors, you think. Certainly better than you would be had you been in their shoes. 
“That’s the best part.” The killer whispers down your ear as his hand tightens around your neck, cutting your air supply for a good few seconds - and while you’re choking on your own spit, you can feel his member throb inside you, wet with pre - cum. Suddenly your heart starts beating faster inside your chest as if trying to break out of your ribcage, and you make the mistake of looking up. Perhaps you’re looking for some type of human warmth, for a smile, a reassuring glare, a dimple or even an automatic twitch of approval at the corner of his lips - but all you’re met with is the same old black porcelain mask along with a pair of cold dead eyes staring back at you, completely empty. Devoid of anything, but sadistic animal pleasure at your expense. 
“You’re not fucking looking, slut.” The man growls, agitated, reaching to slap you across the face. It stings, but you barely feel it, too overwhelmed to care about pain at this point. But eventually his deep, domineering voice registers in your head and you obey automatically, turning your head back at the screen. “That’s a good girl.” He coos at you, but such gentle words sound unnatural coming from him - he twists them. He fucks with them and messes them up, making a mockery out of the sweetness, manipulating intimacy in the way he knows would hurt the most, so when he hits you again, you can actually feel it.
On the tape you can make out certain blurry moments - there is a rather artistic close - up of the woman’s eye being torn out, making her chapstick - red lips curl up in an almost theatrical fashion, and if you didn’t know the creator of the film yourself, you would have fully believed it was just an overdramatic slasher movie meant to scare over - curious teenagers, locked in their mom’s basement. You can recall a long forgotten essay you had just started way before you were stolen away never to be seen again, about the objectifying sexual gaze in old horror flicks. You want to laugh, because it’s funny - but you don’t, because it’s also incredibly fucking sad. 
In the next moment his left hand is entangled into your shaggy, loosened locks, pulling at your scalp, and you moan, even when you know that to Edgar pain and pleasure mean all the same, look the same, sound the same - so how could he ever make out a difference? So you don’t blame him when he sinks his teeth into your throat and pumps himself inside you, bouncing your body up and down on his cock just like a toy, only slightly more human than a fleshlight. You can feel yourself growing wet and you look down just to make sure you’re still capable of such devine human feeling, but it’s yet another trap. 
It’s his fingers. They’re long and bloody, curling up inside your tight slippery hole. You hold back the sigh of relief, because it’s obviously not your blood - yet your eyebrows narrow. You can’t help but wonder who was the miserable fucker who died for you to not have a painful dry fuck for the first time in weeks, but you don’t let yourself dwell on the topic, because you’d rather die than let your captor see you cry for the second time.
“K-keep looking.” The murderer groans, short of breath, growing soft inside you - but of course he doesn’t pull out or even move away like the sadistic fuck he is. You’re not sure if he’s looking at you looking at the woman with her head decapitated and the knife sticking out her naked chest, or if he’s just blissed out and dissociating into space. Edgar pulls on his sweaty white shirt, and the only evidence of his humanity left - his lust, manifests as redness on his neck and white stars in his empty eyes. 
“You just twitched.” He purrs with a certain boyish giddiness to his usually husky voice, letting his hands grope at your open trembling thighs, caressing the old healed scars on your battered skin. “It’s because I’m fucking scared–” You try to argue, but the panic settles at the back of your throat like a massive, sticky lump of fear and you just can’t continue with whatever you wanted to say. Your voice is hoarse and tired anyways - why even try at this point? It always ends the same. 
“That means you’re getting used to it.” Edgar grins, stroking his chin as if he is deep in thought. Then he laughs with that nasty little chuckle that you now associate with pink razors and pins, and sometimes needles. “You used to fucking piss yourself at those helloween movies for kids.” He kisses your neck, pulling you closer into a bear hug, and you wonder if he’s intentionally squeezing all your vital organs in. “Now you’re getting off to my old tapes like a fucking snuff bunny. I’m proud of you, baby.” His mask falls on the ground, revealing his face. It’s the same as usual - evil and bloody. 
“Just don’t get too used to it, m’kay?” The killer smiles coldly, but his eyes remain just as lifeless as five seconds ago. He pinches your nose playfully, and your heart drops into your stomach. “Because soon enough you might just find yourself at the other end of it all.” He squints, his sides heating up with perverse excitement. “And I’d hate for you to make a boring actress.”
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You look lonely… (Miguel O’Hara x Spider! Fem! Reader) Drabble
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This is based off that one part of Bladerunner 2049. I saw a tiktok user use an ai voice thingy to make Miguel say it any I instantly thought of this. Not proofread. Also cried writing this lmao.
Alternative universe reader, antsy, reader mourning, vague implications of reader being depressed and wishes she was dead (??? idk if that’s the best way to describe it) ,Reader’s version of Miguel is dead, mentions of throw up, mentions of animal dissection (it’s one line about it, it’s the whole dissecting frogs in science class thing), no use of (Y/N).
Word count: 1k
Masterlist
Your arms were beginning to grow sore, your vision continued to blurry and refocus underneath your mask, and your chest started to burn from the cold winter air. But you didn’t stop swinging. If you stopped swinging then you’d start to think, and you didn’t wanna think, not today.
It’s been a year since Miguel died. It’s been a year since you’ve started to lose purpose without his existence. He was… everything to you. The reason for your smiles and laughter, the reason you had hope for the world despite your first-hand experience seeing how evil mankind can be. He was the moon against your night sky. A beacon of light to follow during a time where you are shrouded in darkness and uncertainty.
You both met in high school during freshman year science class, when you were 14 and he was 15 You never really paid much mind to him at first. He was quiet, and somewhat shy, always sat at the front, he’d wear a pair of thick rim glasses and always had on crew neck sweaters. He was skinny but he wasn’t thin, he was quite lean from the looks of it, catching a small glimpse of his forearm once and a while when his sleeves would slide down a bit as he’d raise his arm to ask a question or answer one.
Your first real interaction together though was when your class was doing a unit on anatomy, and your class had to dissect frogs. You were partnered with Miguel, and everything was going well, until your stomach couldn’t handle it and you accidentally threw up on his lap. How he didn’t completely hate your guts after was a complete and utter miracle. He was so understanding about it, and assured you that he didn’t even like the jeans he was wearing that day and he was planning on tossing them anyways as you both made your way to the nurse’s office, you blabbing apologizes in between hiccups and sobs.
Since then you two became inseparable, late night movie marathons, “study” sessions where you’d end up talking about anything and everything other than your homework, him teaching you how to drive after he got his license in his old beat up Toyota Camry. When you first found out you had superpowers, he was listening to you ramble over the phone despite it being 2 am on a school night, helping you design and develop your web shooters and your costume, helping patch you up after particularly bad fights, always leaving his bedroom window unlocked for you just in case. He was your rock, unmoving against the constant waves of chaos your life had thrown at you. You could always count on him. It was you both against the word for the next 9 years after that fateful incident in freshman year.
Until a year ago today.
You wish you could go back in time, and stop him from following you as you made your way to time square. Tell him that if he followed you, he’d die and you can’t have that because without him, life felt so empty and devoid of happiness. Save him from the broken metal scrap that became lodged in his stomach that doc ock had thrown in your direction and you had dodged, not seeing him running towards you from behind. You wish you had more time to kiss him goodbye before death’s unforgiving hands took him from you. You wish death had taken you instead. It should have been you. It was supposed to be you.
It should have been you. It should have been anyone else. Anyone else but him. It shouldn’t have been him.
You couldn’t swing anymore. It started to hurt and you had to make sure you had enough web fluid to make it home. So despite your brain’s best efforts, you finally stopped swinging, landing and scaling the tallest building you were closest to before collapsing onto your back, and taking your mask off to properly catch your breath. You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of New York rather than the way your heart ached as you absentmindedly played with Miguel’s ring that you had on a chain around your neck. You were able to calm yourself down enough that you began to doze off, almost falling asleep until your spidey senses began to go off and you heard a weird nose behind you. You quickly got up and turned around, placing the necklace back into your suit just in time to see another Spider-person in blue and red suit walking through some weird portal. He was massive, it was honestly intimidating, you’ve faced larger men, but something about him was different… you couldn’t put your finger on it though.
You didn’t say anything as the thing he came through closed behind him and he stepped closer to you. Despite the mask on his face you could feel him staring into your soul, as if he was studying you.
“¿Que día… hmm?” he spoke in a soft tone, although the question felt rhetorical, you felt yourself nodding anyways, knowing what he said because you had picked up some Spanish from Mig. You didn’t get a catch to reply properly as he kept making his way towards you. (What a day…)
“You look lonely…” He stopped just out of arm’s reach.
“I can fix that.” Something about the way he said it made your stomach both twisted nervousness and erupted with butterflies, an odd warmth seeping into your chest and into your heart that you had thought had stopped beating long ago. Something about him seemed so… familiar…
“You look like a good spider…” The words feel like they should be seen as a taunt or condescending, some form of insult but the way he was saying it felt like he was genuinely praising you. You swallow the lump in your throat as you finally find the courage to speak.
“Who are you?”
His mask devolves into thousands of little pixels, before you're able to see his face. The sight draws a gasp out from your lips, you couldn’t stop your voice from cracking and your eyes from watering once more.
“Miggy?”
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helsex · 1 month
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helsex. if you even care
(click for quality ig)
[I.D. A fully rendered digital drawing of Evil Xisuma and Helsknight from the waist up. They are asleep with Ex resting against Hels' shoulder. Hels is wearing her armor while Ex is not, only wearing a sleeveless crop top. There is heavy golden lighting on the piece from an implied sunset and the background is a blurry, loosely painted tree and greenery. END I.D.]
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TAGLIST:
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(contact me to be added or removed)
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