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angelbarelywrites · 27 days

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♡ slashers scenarios | you’re almost a victim… (part 2)

♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal/Silence of the Lambs, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of violence and cannibalism, kidnapping, stalking, suggestive content

♡ notes; I’m kinda surprised this prompt won out for a part 2 but very happy lol, I had some fun ideas.

the whole gang is not here, just some kinda kinky guys again- I feel like this doesn’t work super well for every single slasher? only some of them are psychopaths AND perverts

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Bo Sinclair

> bo was having a rough day

> your friends had been putting up one hell of a fight, killing the first four was a huge pain in ass

> so by the time there’s only two of you left, he hasn’t even gotten a proper look at you

> it’s not until you come back to the gas station, wide eyed and begging for help that he finally notices you

> god you’re cute- you can be last

> he drops the nice guy act and gets you to the chair- rough as always and threatening you the whole way

> but then he notices it’s all a lot easier than usual today

> he glances up and can’t help but grin

> your cheeks are bright red and your chest heaving- you like being restrained

> “i’ll be good- promise—“ you mumble before he can be a smart ass

> he gags you anyways, but he praises you as you open your mouth for him to stuff the rag it in

> he can hear you whimper as he does and he’s just itching to leave so he can come back

> he leans over, one hand planted between your legs to steady himself

> he can hear your breathing catch as he simply kisses your forehead, snickering as he leaves

> you were really something

> a pretty, obedient little something that would last way longer than a day if you kept it up

Danny Johnson

> he’s worried you saw the flash of his camera through your window that morning

> he’s normally so careful, he can’t believe he slipped up like that- honestly he’s surprised you didn’t call the cops

> you must have been too groggy, or maybe it wasn’t as dark as he thought it was at the time. maybe you noticed but didn’t put two and two together

> he needs to kill you soon anyways. he’s been watching for a while, and he’s wasting time

> he settles back into his usual spot where he can see perfectly into your bedroom

> he sees you frown just a tad as you pick up the phone call from an “unknown number” - but you still pick up

> “Hi there, doll .”

> he’s called you more than once, this “ghost voice” that’s been terrorizing you- and god is it a nice voice

> a nice voice that says vile things. some of them just violent, some…well some things you like too much

> you can see you make an expression he doesn’t expect. you bite your lip, cheeks pink

> he’s seen that look before…not for Ghostface, of course, but for Danny

> you were easy enough to befriend, and it just gave him more opportunities to keep tabs on you

> like most people he charms, you clearly have a crush on him, and that little lip bite is about the same face you make when he flirts

> maybe he’s just seeing things

> you couldn’t be that perfect.if you were he would have to keep you around

> he continues on and on, observing you carefully

> and you just keep getting more and more flustered, even when he’s threatening to choke you stupid

> “you know you’re so cute when you blush like that,”

> what you say next comes just about as close to scaring him as you can get

> “Thank you, Danny.”

Hannibal Lecter

> you weren’t quite as close to victimhood as one might assume

> but he was a fast killer once he had a mark set- you had to impress him more than a bit to be considered and then ruled out

> you start as his patient

> you’re a meek thing, easy to read and fragile

> you’re practically asking to become an entree

> if you taste as good as you look, you’d be his best dish yet

> it’s not hard to get you alone outside of an appointment

> you’re delighted when he invites you to a dinner party- you’ve heard great things about his little get togethers

> and he even lets you help him get ready, setting the tables

> the conversation become macabre as you discuss some recent murders that police suspected were committed by a cannibal

> that he committed for the sake of the dinner party, naturally

> he corners you before you can realize it - he likes playing cat and mouse

> you giggle nervously and look up at him

> he’s got a hand on the wall above you, and he notices your eyes linger on his toned forearms

> many patients and victims have crushes on him, it’s not surprising or a deterrent

> though it surprised him the gristly conversation wasn’t bothering you

> “yknow, it must be nice to know you’re safe from that serial killer in the neighborhood. If he is a cannibal, he’s most likely to chose someone more sedentary.”

> you leave him there, as if you hadn’t said something so delightfully offputting to find a vase for the table

> maybe he could do some further studying….

#slashers #slashers x reader #slashers x you #house of wax #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #dead by daylight #dbd #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal tv show #cw suggestive #cw kidnapping #cw stalking

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honeipie · 15 days

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FLAG GIRL w/ izuku n katsuki

(fem!bodied reader)

CW: catcalling, suggestive language, cursing, illegal street racing

SYNOPSIS: losing the race (and the bet) landed you the job of being izuku and katsuki’s flag girl, and they’re racing for your attention

“awe c’mon y/n! thought you said you were a good racer” kirishima’s voice moved over the sound of other screaming about his victory. you waved him off without another thought.

“hm, maybe tonight’s just not the night for me”

“you know what that means” he whistled two girls over. Their hips swayed walking over to you “my girls’ll take good care of ya”

he winked making them giggle like school children. they moved you past the crowd. before you had raced you and kirishima had made a bet.

“it’s not fun if you don’t bet something on your race!” he begged as the two of you made your way to the cars. rolling your eyes you leaned against the hood.

“fine, if I win, you have to smash in one of your windows”

he looked as if you’d asked him to kick a puppy.

“fine! and if I win, you have to..” his eyes scanned around before landing on someone walking up to the front “you have to be a flag girl”

“deal”

so here you were, attempting to slide into a dark red, leather skirt in the back of a pickup.

“jeez, you’d think they’d have some more room for you guys, but I guess this isn’t an official thing”

“i got you” one of the girls slid her hands down the back to tug them all the way “you learn after a while”

thanking her, you noticed the other girl handing you a top. a matching red top with subtle patterns on the side. as quickly as you could, you wiggled into the top.

“you look hot as hell” one of the girls got you out spinning you around.

“don’t say that. I might quit racing and start doing this” the two of you laughed.

“just remember love. it’s all about confidence. walk out there like you’ve done it before” she handed you a silk red cloth before leading you towards the crowd.

they had started to set up for the next race. from what you could see the next two were leaning against their cars sharing a cigarette.

whistles followed you walking out onto the street in your new clothing. kirishima could be seen putting his arms around both of the women. he pulled them both close, probably whispering about how they did a good job.

the headlights from the cars made your eyes squint. from what you could make out the men had stopped their conversation to stare at you.

their gaze made you nervous. more nervous than all the noise, which usually didn’t sound this loud.

hand reaching to rub your arm your eyes found the girls in the crowd. they yelled out to you over the noise.

“tell them the rules! and have confidence! you’re sexy as fuck!”

a tiny smile made its way to your face. with newfound confidence you made your way over to the two men. the smell of nicotine burning your nose.

“gentlemen,” they both nodded towards you indicating they were listening “the both of you look like you’ve raced before. just not here I’m assuming”

“you’re right” the man with the dark green hair spoke. he had freckles dotted across his face and neck. tattoos along his arm and one on his neck “decided to switch it up a bit n’ I’m seeing it was a good idea”

the blonde scoffed, smoke tumbling out his mouth.

“let’s just get on with it yeah?” his eyes raked over your body quickly, but just long enough for you to notice.

“don’t mind my friend here. he likes to act out when pretty people are around” the freckled man gave you a smile “im izuku, and this is katsuki. we’re ready to race if you’re ready with the rules?”

“oh! yeah! um, so the basics obviously. no killing, and we go by the first or worst rule here” you ducked a little bit to look at both of their cars. they were sleek and fucking expensive “the last thing is just have an escape plan. the cops are on our asses and we don’t need any trouble around here”

katsuki dropped his cigarette to the ground. his foot stepped over it making sure to put it out completely.

“don’t worry princess. we’ve got this under control” the two of them watched you walk away.

“i think we should make a friendly bet”

“what now?”

“whoever wins this race” izuku lifted up his pointer finger decorated with a single silver ring, at you “gets to ask them out”

katsuki’s eyes stayed glued to you as you turned around. the fabric of that dress really wasn’t getting any looser.

“fine with me, but don’t forget” he opened his car door with the cockiest smirk “you’ve always been a fuckin’ loser”

“we’ll see about that shithead”

#izuku x reader #mha #x reader #anime #fanfics #writing #deku x y/n #katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha #bnha au #bnha x reader

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calypsocolada · 1 month

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VIGILANTE | denji <3

synopsis: you're just the vigilante denji has been searching for... request: "yo! was watching birds of prey and got a thought. sfw, preferably, harley quinn! fem! reader x denji. like denji's out on patrol or something idrk and she's out there causing trouble and fighting and basically like the scene where harley was getting chased by the cop and then throws garbage and a truck driver gets shot and she jumps onto a ladder and stuff. lol ik that's a lot sorry. i dont rlly know where to continue on what else sorry 😭😭" authors note: HI! thanks for the request... this may not be exactly what you requested but I still was inspired by your request to write this. this one goes out to you!! <3 i might write a part two, this one was fun :) cw: nsfw but no smut, potential assault/drink spiking, slightly unhinged reader, blood, gore, severing of body parts, characters aged up to 20's, angst, fluff, touch starved denji, lonely denji, not proofread, (let me know if I missed any!) wc: 4.6k

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You’d been looking to cause trouble. A lot of things led you to this very moment and to say you were ashamed was just plain wrong. You liked the trouble. You liked making people nervous, you liked that power you could hold over someone's head. After going so long without any power of your own it was nice to finally make someone else feel weak once in a while. No it wasn’t healthy and no you didn’t care. Because it felt good. It felt good to terrorize people. To hear their pleads of mercy.

You never went after actually innocent people. You hunted devils. And you killed a lot of devils that disguised themselves as humans. The news called you the Night killer, they called you a serial murderer. It wasn’t fair… they didn’t know the true personality of the people you ended. Night was the easiest for you to move around in without being detected. You had things to do in the daylight, boring day to day things. But when the night set it was time to let loose a bit.

You had to be a bit more careful recently though. Some celebrity hero had been patrolling the streets recently. Doing good and all. You knew he was looking for you. And you weren’t sure how well you’d fare against chainsaws.

It was your birthday weekend so your friends decided to take you out. It was some popular club downtown that you all ended up at after dinner. Sweaty bodies and strobing lights you knew only terrible things could come out of unattended drinks and loud music so you kept an eye on all your friends. That’s when you saw him, some guy with a predatory look in his eyes as he stared down your friend. You could tell his intentions right away. You had a knack for it. You could also tell he’d been just the one you were hunting for. The devil that had killed a woman just last week. You’d watch him for a bit and sure enough, after touching and getting slapped away by multiple women, he walked and chatted up your friend for a bit before slipping away to buy her a drink. You watched him non stealthily slip something into it, a grin spreading across his lips, an even bigger one spreading across yours. He really thought he could get away from destiny? You didn’t think this night could get any better but here was a perfect excuse to spill blood on your birthday. You downed your drink and slinked your way through the crowd and when he turned to make his way back to your friend you purposefully bumped into him, spilling the drink all over the front of his tacky white and gold shirt.

“Oh… shit, I’m so sorry!” You faked an apologetic look and scrambled for some napkins and pressed it to his wet chest.

“Come on-- watch where you're-” The moment he saw you it was like lights filled his eyes. His eyes widened as he looked from your eyes to your cleavage than back up. “No… excuse me, pretty lady.” You giggled, biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“Can I buy you another drink?” You asked innocently, keeping your hands against his chest.

“Don’t you worry about that, dear.” He crooned and it took everything in you not to cringe. Instead you pushed closer to him, talking into his ear so he could hear you over the loud music. “You sure, baby?” You ask, a rasp sliding into your voice. The man nodded his head, his hand sliding against your waist.

“Wanna dance?” He asks, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. You shiver in disgust but he doesn’t see it that way.

“Lead the way.” You say and he sure does, his hand sliding just above your ass as he pulls you on the dance floor, turning you around so he can press himself against your behind. The dance was fueling the fire. You couldn’t wait to lure him outside. You wondered how many girls he’d drugged, wondered how many girls he’d touched without permission. The way he touched you now was telling you everything you needed to know, this man took what he wanted.

And so would you.

After all you could handle of this man, you pushed him back a bit.

“Wanna get some air?” You asked and he agreed almost instantly. He slid his arms around your waist and hips as you led the way out of the club. There were a few people loitering outside so you led him to the side alleyway. The moment you two were alone he grabbed you rather forcefully and pushed you against the wall, he leaned in to kiss you but your hand shot up and you grabbed him tightly by the chin. He froze, a look forming in his eyes. He was enjoying this.

“Eager one, aren’t you?” You rasped, he nodded his head, trying to lean forwards but unable to, his eyes growing slightly wide.

“You’re strong for a woman.” He says and a devilish smirk grows on your pink lips as you slowly nod your head. You slowly tighten your hold on his chin and watch as his lips part in surprise. “I want to fuck you so bad.” He whispers, obviously liking your rough treatment.

“How would you do that?’ You asked, your free hand sliding to the knife concealed on your thigh. A trusty weapon you acquired after some idiot tried to mug you on your way home from work. It was a trophy you liked to use on your victims.

“I’d yank that little skirt up, rip those tights open and take you right here.” He growled, disgusted chills ran down your spine but your face was as cool as ever. It wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever heard but it was up there.

“Mhm…” You hummed. “Let me see what you’d take me with.” You whispered and the excitement that man felt was on full display as his hands flew to unzip his pants. You waited patiently and the moment you spotted it the smile that fitted to your lips was downright evil. “Small.” You remarked seconds before that trophy knife of yours sliced his member clean off. There was a split second where it didn’t register with him. He inhaled and then his eyes went wide as pain finally made its way to his brain. When he opened his mouth to scream you clamped over his lips hard with your hand and spun him to press him forcefully against the wall. You wiped the blood from your knife on his shirt and pressed it against his neck.

“Mhm wha tha fu,” He grumbled beneath your fingers.

“What? It’s okay for you to take what you want? To spike women's drinks and touch them without consent? To kill them? I thought you’d probably like being treated the way you treat others.” You growl. He tried to squirm away from you but you were too strong. You held him against that wall like he weighed nothing and the fear that formed in his eyes at the revelation was delicious.

“Plea-- please.” He pleaded and the sound was like music to your ears.

“No sense in pleading.” You growled.

“That’s enough.” The voice to your right halted your thoughts. You turned just slightly to see the celebrity himself. Chainsaw Man.

Fuuuccckkk.

“Let ‘em go.” He directed. Your mouth dried, your knife sweaty in your hands. But you didn’t move back.

“You caught me.” You rasped, it was dark so you knew, unless Chainsaw Man had night vision, that he couldn’t see you very well. He paused at the sound of your voice, slightly tilting his head to try and get a good look at you but they didn’t call you Night Killer for no reason, the night was being very friendly to you right now.

“You sound… hot.” Chainsaw Man said. Everything halted for a moment. You stared at him quizzically. He’d caught you off guard with that. Even the scumbag beneath your blade seemed surprised before he started squirming again and you had to press your blade harder. “I’ve been tailing your kills for months now… Are you-- blonde? It’s hard to tell.”

“You’ll be tailing another kill if you don’t keep it in your pants,” You growled. “Aren’t you supposed to be a hero?”

“I am a hero. But I’m also a man who has great taste. Now let that man go and step into the light.” Chainsaw Man directed. Something about him made you laugh. This terrifying looking devil had layers. Chainsaw Man cocked his head at your laughter.

“And what would you do if I slit this piece of shit devil's throat?” You ask and the man you pinned squirmed and whimpered pathetically. Chainsaw Man stepped closer, trying hard to get a look at you. One track mind it seemed.

“What’d he do?” He asks. It gives you pause.

“You care?”

“Did he try to hurt you? I’ve noticed most of your victims all had charges placed against them for hurting women. Is he just like the others?” Chainsaw Man asked. You wondered if he actually cared or if he was biding time for the police.

“Uh huh.” You answered, trailing your attention back to the dirt bag. You trailed your knife up his neck to the side of his face. “He touches who he wants and slips things into drinks. Naughty…” You tease, the anger inside you coming out as though it meant nothing. You heard Chainsaw Man walk closer and you shot him a warning look. “Any closer and I’ll spill his blood.”

“Do it.” You hear the hero say. “Kill him. He deserves it.” You stare at him, lips parted. He’d surprised you.

“What?” You asked before you were able to mask that surprise.

“Kill him.” Chainsaw Man shrugs. “I could do it if you want.”

“What kind of hero are you?”

“A hero to those who deserve saving. If this man did as you say then I’ll look the other way.” Chainsaw Man says. You were so shocked that your grip on the man loosened. The dirt bag, sensing your attention elsewhere, shoved hard against you. The hard shove sends your hand with the knife back towards you. He gives another shove and the blade plunged into you just above your chest below your shoulder blade. You land hard, dazed a bit. The dirt bag dives towards the knife, straddling you on the ground.

“You dumb slut!” He growls. “I’m gonna kill-” You heard the revving of chainsaws before you felt the warm splash of blood against your face. You watched in object horror as the man’s head slowly fell off his shoulders and tumbled to the pavement. The body above you slackened and fell to the side in a bloody heap. You wiped at the blood, trying to push away from the body but your shoulder screamed in pain. You’d forgotten the damn knife that had lodged itself in you. You hissed in pain as the Chainsaw’s slowly came to a stop and silence was restored. The commotion had gained the attention of bystanders outside the club as people started poking their heads at the other end of the alleyway.

“Can you walk?” Chainsaw Man asked but when you looked up you saw a regular man, blood on his white button up shirt. When you both saw each other in the dim light of the alleyway you both blushed. You furrowed your brow, momentarily forgetting the throbbing pain in your shoulder.

“Chainsaw Man?” You said, stunned. The man before you nodded his head, glancing down the alley towards the people. “Come on, we need to get you somewhere safe before they get a good look at us.” You let him wrap his arms around you and pull you to your feet, you’d hurt your leg when you fell so you relied on him heavily to take you somewhere safe.

“Is this okay?” He asked and for the first time in years you didn’t feel disgusted by a man’s touch. It was strange. You nodded your head.

“This way,” You directed once you go to a street you recognized. You led Chainsaw Man towards your house, his hand gently holding you against him. Once there you handed him your keys and he unlocked the door and helped you inside. You grunted in pain as he got you to a chair by the kitchen table. “There’s uh-- supplies in the top drawer… grab everything. And grab the jack from the fridge.” You direct. Chainsaw Man works quickly as you lean your head back, cursing yourself for letting your attention wander. You’d never gotten hurt this bad, just some scrapes and bruises. He was back rather quickly, falling to his knees beside you.

“How can I help?” He asks as you tilt up, reaching for the jack. You take a big swig of it taking a deep breath.

“Fuck me.” You sighed at the impending pain. You watched his face go through five different emotions before his cheeks blushed.

“What? Now?” He asks as you furrow your brow before realizing he thought you were giving him an order with those two little words you sighed. You laughed surprisingly, shaking your head.

“No, not what I meant.”

“Oh… yeah of course.” He blushes, turning away slightly.

“What’s your name?” You ask. He turns back to you, looking up at you from his knees.

“Denji.”

“Denji,” You say and watch his cheeks go even redder. “I need you to pull this knife out of my shoulder.” You say. His lips part in surprise as he blinks.

“No medicine to dull the pain?”

“I drank jack, no come on before I chicken out.” You say and Denji nods his head. You both lean towards each other and he reaches for the handle. Pain jolts through you at just a small bit of contact. Luckily for you it wasn’t super deep but it would still hurt like a bitch to remove. Denji looks up in your eyes.

“You sure?” He asks as you nod your head, taking another swig. He nods his head and a second later the blade is yanked from your shoulder. You cry out in pain as the blad clangs against the tilt flooring. Denji reaches for your shoulder, pressing his hand against the blood to stop it as he grabs a towel with his other. “It’s okay,” He says soothingly. “It’s out.” He presses the towel against the wound as you catch your breath.

“Thank you,” You breathe out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You share a moment before you know that the wound needs to be stitched. You walk Denji through the steps and he listens well and takes gentle care of stitching you up and wrapping the wound. Once it’s nice and secure you feel your breath slowly coming back to you. You offer Denji a drink as he’s washing his hands. He grabs two cups and sits beside you at the table. You pour two drinks and slide one over to him.

“I’ve been hunting you for a few months,” He starts, taking a sip before making a face as though he didn’t like it but then takes another sip. “You put yourself in danger a lot.”

“Someone has to.” You say, leaning back in your chair.

“You’re skilled, killing those devils can’t have been easy.” He says as you shrug.

“They don’t put up much of a fight if you trick them early on.” You say. Denji looks at you over his cup.

“What’s your name? I think you're a little too pretty for Night Killer.” You can’t help but smile at that.

“Am I now?” You ask, cocking your head slightly as Denji nods his head.

“You’re probably one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen.” He says truthfully. You find yourself blushing at his honesty.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Y/n…” He echoes, looking at you dreamily. “That’s better, a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Alright, Chainsaw Man, relax.” You jest, taking a sip of your drink. Denji grins at that.

“Can I take you out? Maybe after you’re feeling better?”

“What? Don’t like girls with scars?” You tease as Denji immediately shakes his head.

“I love scars. If you have any more I’d like to see them.” He implored, gaining another laugh from you.

“Such a flirt.” You wave off.

“I don’t want you to overexert yourself, that’s all.” He says as you nod your head.

“Why? Do you have something really physical planned?” You tease and watch his cheeks and ears go red.

“What? N-no!”

“I’m teasing you, Chainsaw Man.” You say.

“Denji,” He says.

“Hmm?”

“I-- I’d like it better if you called me Denji.” He says, barely able to look you in the eye. You’d never seen a man blush this much in your presence. It was adorable.

“Denji…” You say, leaning on your hand. His eyes widen just slightly and you can tell he really likes hearing his name from your lips.

“So… Can I take you out?”

“Why? You just met me?” You ask amused.

“So? I’d be a fool not to ask a pretty girl like you out.” He says and you laugh.

“I might be pretty but I kill devils for fun, aren’t you part devil?” You ask teasingly.

“I am… but I’m not like the ones you kill.”

“You’re not?”

“No. Those scumbags deserved what you gave them.”

“So why were you tracking me down?” You ask curiously.

“Well… If I’m being honest I… saw you on CCTV. Saw how you protected those women a few months ago. I also saw you were finding bigger devils and got worried that you might get hurt.”

“You were worried for me and you didn’t even know me?”

“I lost sleep. I was lucky to find you tonight.”

“You’re the reason I got stabbed, you know. That devil was weak.” You say, leaning back as Denji’s eyes widen.

“What? I-- I’m sorry, Y/n.” He implores as you laugh, shaking your head.

“It’s fine, Denji, I’m partly kidding.”

“But it was my fault… I distracted you.”

“It’s fine.” You smile warmly. He sees that smile and the drink in his hand slips from his grasp, spilling all over the table. He jumps up.

“Shit! Shit… sorry.” He runs to grab a rag and wipe it up. You watch him curiously. He’s nothing like what you expected Chainsaw Man to be like. He was sort of uncool but… not in a bad way. He was like a dork. It was endearing. It had you smiling in a way you forgot how to do. There was a reason you killed dirty devils for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. There was a time where you weren’t strong enough to defend yourself. That was the same day you had forgotten what it was like to let someone in. Yet here was Denji, who you’d met mere hours ago, worming his way into your iron shackled heart. Each lock he seemingly had the key too. It was slightly alarming but for some reason it wasn’t scaring you away.

“I’ll go out with you.” You say when Denji had just finished cleaning up only for the shock of your statement causing him to knock over the rest of his drink. You dissolve in a fit of giggles as Denji profusely apologizes, cleaning it all back up.

“You’re serious? You’ll go out with me?”

“Are you gonna spill anything if I say yes?” You tease as Denji sits the things in his hands down. You smile. “Then yes. I’d like to go out with you.” He can’t fight the smile that graces his lips. It’s like looking at the sun. “Come here,” You say. Denji is quick to be at your side as you grab a pen, clicking it. You gently grab his arm and write your number on his palm. “My number, I should be healed up within a few weeks.”

“Can I call you before… just to talk?” He asks and you blush at his innocence. He didn’t seem to want just the one thing most guys wanted.

“I’m a late sleeper and I get off work around five, you can call anytime after that.” You say and watch Denji’s face light up.

“Can you… promise me something?” Denji asked after a moment. You look up at him.

“Hmm?”

“Please let yourself heal. Don’t go devil hunting alone… in fact if you ever find someone you want to hurt please call me and I’ll be there.”

“You want to be my accomplice?” You joke but Denji’s face is dead serious. How could someone care this much in such little time? It almost seems too good to be true.

“I’ll kill for you. Anyone you want dead.” The absolute honesty and pure sincereness made your heart race. This man wore his heart on his sleeve.

“You mean it?”

“I am deadly serious.” He affirms. For a moment you just look at him, your eyes drinking in his soft features. He was quite handsome, a sort of boyish roundness of the face with mature eyes and lips you could tell might not have smiled a lot. But something about him was sad, like the profound loneliness in you had found that same loneliness in him. Like a reflection on yourself. You reached for him but your hand paused before you could touch him.

“Can I touch you?” You asked.

“Please.” He whispered almost inaudibly. You gently ran your fingers across his cheek, settling just below his jaw. His eyes drifted closed at your touch as he moved into your touch like he was starved of it and wanted as much as you’d give him. “Please,” he pleaded again, slowly falling to his knees in front of you.

“Please what?” You whispered, blushing from his reaction to your touch.

“Will you kiss me? Just once?” He whimpered softly. You swallowed, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. You’d do just that. Honestly if he asked you anything on his knees you might just give it to him. You slide your other hand against his cheek and gently tilt his face up by his chin. His eyes opened into yours and the intensity building between you two was thick in the air. You answered his question with the gentle press of your lips against his. He must’ve been extremely touch starved because the noises he made from just a simple kiss were downright filthy. He surged up slightly, wanting to be as close as possible. “May I-- touch you?” He whimpered against your lips.

“Yes.” You answered as his hands flew up to either side of your face, one hand slotting just below your jaw and the other sliding into your hair. The tension builds, the nervous excitement and eager kisses. The slow rise of heat within yours and his body. The quick, shallow breaths Denji was making. The way your and his hearts beat even faster now. Finally, the hesitation is gone, the urge to go through with it so great that it seems like a natural force acting upon Denji’s body itself. HIs hand slides around your hip as he pulls you off the chair and sits back, placing you on his lap like you weighed nothing. Your chests meeting, heartbeats sounding in unison. Your mouths finding each other, and lips coming together in a long, fulfilling kiss. The shyness is all completely and utterly gone. The heat within their bodies rises even further, breaths becoming more erratic. Lips separating for just a moment, just long enough to take a breath. Then they come back together, meeting just as passionately and lovingly. You’d never been kissed like this, never felt the weight of lips against yours that made your heart flutter like this. You felt like a teenager all over again. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt this way. It was dangerous and so so alluring. You’d forgotten about your stab wound up until you raised your other arm to tangle your hand in his hair and the pain was strong enough to pull you back to your senses. You inhaled sharply, a gasp of pain that had Denji pulling back, eyes full of concern.

“Y/n?” He mumbled as a question, lips kissed pink. “Are you okay?”

“My arm,” You said through searing pain. That seemed to bring him back to the present.

“Fuck, sorry!” He mumbled, hand flying up to check the bandage and make sure you hadn’t torn your stitches.

“It’s fine.” You breathe out. Denji reaches to tuck your hair away from your face.

“We should call it a night,” He says but you can tell it’s something he doesn’t really want but wants for you to heal. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” He asks. You’re still sitting in his lap, still wanting much more that he could give you but your arm was aching. You silently cursed that devil for stabbing you and sighed, nodding your head. Denji stands, taking you with him gently. You two are still so close and you almost just want to grab him and ask him not to go. You felt cold when you thought of Denji leaving but you knew you two would need space otherwise your arm would never heal.

“I’ll be waiting.” You smile up at him and he returns that smile.

“I-- I almost don’t want to leave.”

“I almost want you to stay.” You return. The gaping loneliness seemed to be reaching out between you both. But you had to be smart, you had to think rationally. You’d just met him hours ago… you barely knew him. In fact you didn’t know him at all. But… that really didn’t seem to matter because your hands had barely gripped Denji’s shirt, your body making a conscious decision before your mind could think better of it. “What if you stayed the night? Would that be so crazy?” You’d had one night stands before… it wasn’t crazy…

“I’ll stay with you.” He says. You don’t let your mind talk you out of it, you just gently pull him towards your bedroom. You have no thoughts of furthering your prior make out sesh… you’d rather just sleep with him beside you. You gave Denji some clothes to change into and he helped you change into something comfortable. Once you got into bed, Denji following you inched close to him under the covers. Craving the warmth he provided. You’d never known how cold you were until this very moment. Denji turned to face you and in the dark you saw him flush red. “Can I hold you?” He asked and you didn’t even bother speaking because you were moving closer the moment he ended his sentence as his arms slotted around your hips, your face pressing against his chest. In his arms you felt more safe and secure than you’d ever felt. You closed your eyes against the thoughts that swam around in your mind. You were thinking too heavily. You just needed to shut it off. Denji’s steady heartbeat gave you something to focus on, that and his soft snoring that sounded moments later. Sleep hadn’t evaded you tonight where it had so many other nights. Denji’s arms gently tensed around you as he drew you slightly closer in his sleep. After a few moments your mind had shut off and you were slowly and finally lulled to a peaceful sleep. One of many with Denji in the years to come.

#chainsaw man #denji #csm denji #chainsaw man denji #denji x reader #denji x you #fem reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man smut #denji smut #chainsaw devil

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talesfrommedinastation · 8 months

Text

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Bad Batch': The Outpost

As per many people's requests, I've collected a series of texts and Facebook messages from Doug when he watched certain episodes of everyone's favorite Copy Paste Boi show.

Some he was quite pithy on ('Ryan-from-Accounting goes fast but not fast enough to get away from the Bitch Wife Laura'), and others...well, he got excitable, to put it mildly.

Here's one of the more deranged ones, Season 2, Episode 12, 'The Outpost'. Or as Doug calls it: "The Daddy Warcrimes Christmas Special."

CW for Language like you wouldn't believe. Doug says "you'll need a permission slip from your momma to read this, I guess."

-----

Daddy Warcrimes is waiting by the Empire's equivalent of a windowless van, because comfort is just not his thing and he really wants the experience of smuggling cocaine across the border one of these days.

Some bitch who looks like she works at a bank is telling these clones that their extended warranty is up. I wanna bring her a bag of pennies and make her count it before I deposit it because I'm sick like that.

So here comes in SOME BLOND JACKASS. Mother of Hell do I hate this guy. Can I just tell you how much I hate him? I hate him like I hate the Crimson Tide, like I hate February, like I hate my mother-in-law. Hate hate hate.

So Daddy Warcrimes, SOME BLOND JACKASS, and some homies get into Floating Probable Cause to lay waste to an unsuspecting Third World country or whatever.

Well, I was wrong! Looks like Elsa and her frozen fingers took over this dump. Disney owns both, so why not. The cold never bothered them anyway. Nope, they’re at somebody’s nasty old storage shed. Why does this remind me of visiting my sister in Wyoming?

Oh, who is this no-frills, salt-of-the-earth, son-of-a-bitch? Is that tanned Kurt Russell? No? It’s Sassy Park Ranger! I like him already. If he was my boss I’d actually show up to work on time and sober, or late and hung over, either way, it’d be a good time with the man. He just seems cool and chill and a nice dude. I bet he’s got homemade beef jerky in his locker and his beard always smells like cigar smoke.

OH SHUT UP STUPID BLOND JACKASS, Jesus Christ I’ve never wanted to hit someone with a folding chair so hard in my life. CALL HIM COMMANDER.

Aw, Sassy Park Ranger’s being nice to Daddy Warcrimes, maybe Daddy Warcrimes will share the Columbian nose candy in the back of the van with Sassy Park Ranger, and Sassy Park Ranger won’t ask about the sobbing family Daddy Warcrimes is probably holding for ransom in the back. It’s all about understanding each other.

This is truly the Daddy Warcrimes Christmas special, snow and friendship and stuff. I hope this doesn’t end up with Daddy Warcrimes 86’ing Rudolph and the rest of the reindeer from the sky, that would traumatize the children. But this is the same studio that produced Bambi so who knows. Didn't he try killing a kid the first episode?

Oh man, Sassy Park Ranger’s lost a lot of his men, that’s real sad. Only two left, Jesus. SHUT UP BLOND JACKASS SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.

(I won’t repeat it, but the amount of times that SHUT UP was texted was….something else- Dr. MM)

Sassy Park Ranger’s taking Daddy Warcrimes on a hike around the place in the middle of a blizzard, probably going to say hi to the yeti hooker they all frequent and show him how to write his name in the snow with pee. He’s such a good guy. If they go sledding I’d be so happy.

Oh, shit! Daddy Warcrimes remembers that he has a job and proceeds to cop some poor bastard in the leg so he can follow the trail of blood in the snow. What in the Fargo am I watching here, does Steve Buschemi show up at one point now. No sledding in this one, I guess.

Well there goes Sassy Park Ranger and Daddy Warcrimes on a heartwarming romp following a crippled burglar in the snow as he bleeds to death. Kevin McCallister would be so proud. Well, now, they found a dead body already. You know, at this point, if Daddy Warcrimes capped Santa in the head this show wouldn’t be less wholesome.

Aw shit Daddy Warcrimes stepped on a landmine, but Sassy Park Ranger watched his training videos that HR made them sit through and disarms it. They’re having a nice convo, I really, really like Sassy Park Ranger. If he dies I’ll be so freaking mad.

(I said nothing, FYI - Dr. MM)

Aw shit, they found the bunker of crazy white people with guns in the snow. It’s confirmed: the Daddy Warcrimes Christmas Special takes place in Wyoming. Are Daddy Warcrimes and Sassy Park Ranger facing off my brother-in-law and his branch of the VFW near Laramie? Those guys need hobbies besides doomsday prepping and getting drunk in the snow. It ain’t right.

“After all we sacrificed”…man. I feel right here. Is this the child friendly version of Enemy at the Gate? Shit. Please these two bastards need to survive. I need a beer and I wanna hug my wife.

Dr. Meat Muffin, please don't tell me you're letting your babies watch this show. They need that dog from Australia who has fun with her daddy, not this.

Oh shit, avalanche!

Oh no, Sassy Park Ranger. Oh no, oh no. Oh, Daddy Warcrimes.

Thank Christ they made it! They’re gonna save him! They’re gonna save him.

Wait. What.

WHAT THE FUCK, BLOND ASSHOLE.

I HATE THIS JACKASS SO GODDAMNED MUCH, SOLDIER OF THE EMPIRE, I WANNER SHOVE MY SOLDIER UP YOUR EMPIRE YOU STUPID DICK.

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Yay! Daddy Warcrimes finally took out his gun and 86’d that FUCK. CHRISTMAS CAME EARLY!! YAAAAAAY!!!!!

Man...I hope this ends okay for Daddy Warcrimes. I hope his brothers aren't just dicking around somewhere warm while he and the other bros are out dying.

Guess that'll be next episode?"

....Doug snapped SO HARD watching 'Pabu'. Brace yourselves.

#tbb #cloneforce99 #the bad batch #tcw #crosshair tbb #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair #crosshair and mayday #mayday clone trooper #tbb mayday #commander mayday #doug talks star wars #doug the neighbor #redneck doug #fuck the empire #fuck lt nolan

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hobie-enthusiast · 10 months

Note

NO BC MORE PPL NEED TO TALK ABT PROWLER HOBIE!!! - 🕷️

— oh 🕷️ anon i completely agree and shall deliver

— cw; not comic accurate 616 hobie, a mix between him and 138 hobie, canon typical violence, mentions of making out

alright, so before a life of crime, the two of you were high school sweethearts. the talk of the school, everyone adored your relationship. voted most likely to stay together, the works. you worked like a support system; hobie having had to raise himself and needed more love than others, along with the hardships you may have faced during your upbringing. hobie originally had a really hard time letting himself be vulnerable around you, but he got used to it, letting you in to help him through what he needs to.

despite having great support, things were rough on him after high school. when he lost his job, the equipment he essentially invented for it made him turn to crime for a shot at protecting the innocent, especially you. you were essentially a victim to the terrible mistreatment of such a fascist country, being terribly poor while with hobie. with such a corrupt government, and tons of heros who defend it, it seemed to be up to him to fix it all. so, he took his inventing skills and became a villain, deeming himself 'the prowler'.

and he felt like he was protecting the people. stopping those bloody cops from hurting the innocent, or punishing officials who've done bad. he was a villain with a good cause, but not many saw it that way. they saw their beloved spider-man as the one who does the good, not some scary villain in a scary suit. essentially, the constant battle between the prowler and spider-man began.

hobie tried to keep his second life a secret from you, he really did. but the one day he was out, you managed to find his prowler suit and mask. along with that, all sorts of gadgets that seemed far too advanced for some regular civilian. upon confronting him about it, he admitted to everything. what he’s doing, who he is, and where he goes.

it’s.. tough at first. learning your high school sweetheart was a super villain isn’t the easiest piece of information to take hold of. but you stayed. you knew he was fighting for a good cause, so you kept him close to your heart. how could you not? hobie always wanted better for you, for the people, for himself. so you stuck your support, staying right by him through it all.

hobie can also find himself in a habit of stealing from large corporations. it’s his thing as the prowler. it would range from stealing food for the local shelter to stealing a nice knick-knack to gift to you. though you feel some guilt at first, it soon disappears upon remembering that these places won’t ever miss what hobie steals. they’ll just find something to replace it.

some things hobie does not do as the prowler (that normal villains tend to); hurt the innocent, steal from small businesses, cause commotion during charity events or rallies of protest, have an innocent be his “person on the inside”, kill like, anyone.

the most he would do to hurt anyone (which is government officials and fascist politicians), is beat ‘em up and give them a good talking to. he reminds them of who’s truly running this country, who’s actually the one feeding them their money, and that normal shuts them up. hobie hates the way they plead with him to not kill them, it honestly makes him laugh. he has the same reply every-time.

“you beg t’ not be offed, but kill ‘ur citizens everyday. think ‘bout it.”

even as the prowler, hobie always makes time for the things he loves. you, for one. he’s always taking you for a night in the city or to hang with his friends. dinner dates at home are a must for the week, he’ll never miss it. he eventually does propose to you, which consists of him just asking out of the blue in bed if you wanna get married. he gives you one of his rings and says, “boom, married. g’night, love.” yeah, you never got official documents. but who cares?

hobie’s other commitment lies with his band. never misses a show to play. he’s sticking with them, even as the prowler. he loves the high he gets from performing onstage for the people he fights for, listening to their enjoyment. he loves laughing with his band as they keep a high energy show going almost all night. and the best part? he sees you after his shows, warm smile on your face as you congratulate him (either verbally or with making out. your choice). he would never trade those nights for fighting as the prowler.

overall, hobie as the prowler is not like every other villain. he’s committed to doing good in the wrong way. and even when spider-man convinces him to find a different way to get his message, he never gives up. he retires his prowler costume in exchange for one that advocates loudly, leading protests and riots at the front lines. he had to admit, it was a lot more refreshing than being painted as an evil villain. plus, it help that you find this option much safer :). he’s content with life as the prowler, even after he retires the persona.

#SHORT STORY || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #prowler hobie #hobie

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adaptacy · 8 months

Text

Johnny Slaughter Pregnancy H/Cs Pt.1

Cw: Mentions of trauma, angst, but also fluff and him being pretty cute for an (ex)cannibal, older Johnny, post-Sawyers

Important Notes:

He'd left the Sawyers a long time ago. Almost three years now. Things had gotten shady- shadier than ever. Police got involved. He had to split. And he'd moved to Georgia of all places. Close enough that he was still in familiar climates, far enough that he was removed from the interference.

He didn't know what happened to the rest of 'em. Probably for the best. He'd gotten a job as a butcher, of course. It was what he was good at- carving, skinning, etc. And it paid the bills. And introduced him to you.

About a year after he'd moved, the two of you met in the shop. Johnny had been assigned to cover the register for the day since the usual coworker was gone, and you'd happened to show up that day as it was the shop you frequented when you went on grocery trips.

The interaction went as you'd expect. You asked for what you needed, and he gave it to you. You also asked if he was new, and what happened to George, the usual man behind the counter. Johnny explained that he was out sick, so he was covering for him. You found his accent amusing, since it was different than what you were used to. You asked where he was from. He said Georgia. You didn't believe him.

And you left with a kind goodbye. Didn't see him again for another two months. Didn't really think about him. Until you found him in a bar, and recognized him. The two of you chatted, and he ended up asking you on a date. Things only went uphill from there. You got along really well with him.

Well enough that, now, a little over two years later, the two of you lived together, and you were almost 6 months pregnant with his child. You didn't know a lot about his past. You knew he'd been born in Texas and didn't really know his parents. He said he'd been in a foster house, but wasn't ever adopted. He never said anything more. It seemed to be a sensitive subject for him, so you didn't really bother prying.

Overall, he was really sweet. Intimidating as hell, and had a sinister smirk, but you'd never seen him be aggressive or violent in any way. He was like a really cuddly teddy bear. A great example as to why you shouldn't judge a book by its muscular cover.

While the two of you weren't engaged, he definitely was planning on proposing. But he didn't want to stress you out- he wanted to wait until after the baby was born. He was actually quite looking forward to having a kid, but he was also very anxious about it.

Pregnancy Head-canons (SFW):

He was unsure at first. When you told him, he had no idea how to react. He put on a smile, but you could see through it. However, you didn't want to upset him, and decided it was best to give him time to process it before you overwhelmed him.

Truth was, he was scared of having a kid. He was scared for you- His own biological mom had been killed, and while he knew that it was a freak situation, he couldn't not worry about the same happening to you. In some twisted way, he worried that somehow his past would come back to bite him in the ass. And that you'd get involved.

He had occasional thoughts of running before you were pregnant. He felt that, even if something terrible happened, if he somehow was found by the cops, he could just leave you. That he could run, and protect you. But now that you were pregnant with his baby, there was no more running. And that scared him. He never would've wanted to leave you, but it was comforting to know that it was an option. It didn't feel like an option anymore.

He also wasn't sure he could be a good father. His 'family' was batshit crazy, and they'd raised him the same. What if he passed on bad traits to your kid? What if he was an awful dad and turned his kid into a psycho like him?

He'd been doing better, of course- Johnny stopped killing people, he had to. At first, he'd told himself that he'd just lay low and go back to it once the cops were less a problem, but after the first couple months, he got used to it. Got used to normal meat, to normal diets, and he found he had a lot more free time when he wasn't chasing victims around all the time.

Even so, he still worried that he'd somehow manage to make a psychotic cannibal even when he was far from it. Or that his kid would have his anger issues, or his anxiety, or somehow have his trauma- he didn't want to put that weight on anyone else. And he didn't want you to have to see that.

But eventually, Johnny warmed up to the idea. especially when you started showing a tiny baby bump. He loved how certain shirts wouldn't quite come all the way down your stomach anymore, and even if you complained about it, it gave him some... really sweet, sickeningly domestic feeling. A feeling he'd never even dreamed of.

Despite everything, he was a family man. His family was the only thing he knew growing up. And while his was a mess, and left him worse for wear in the end, he still suffered from a constantly feeling of loneliness. He was so used to constantly being surrounded by, irritated, and cared about by family, and when he was living on his own, he lacked that completely. Moving in with you certainly helped, and now that there was going to be a third in the house, it actually reassured him a bit. He'd still be able to build family bonds, and with biological family this time. Plus, you weren't a psycho, so that definitely helped.

Because of this, he grew very attached to the baby once he got over his initial worries. He'd still have the occasional intrusive thoughts, but they were rare and he was able to push them out of his mind. He wanted a family with you, and he was going to have one.

But, Jesus fucking Christ, you were so goddamn careless. You acted the exact same, did the exact same activities, you lived life precisely how you did before you were pregnant, and Johnny was surprisingly overprotective of you and the baby. He refused to let you go to the bar or have even the slightest drop of anything alcoholic, and you'd expressed your frustrations that he was still allowed to drink but you weren't.

So? He stopped drinking. And then you came out one day to share a cig with him, and he'd practically carried you back inside because he didn't want you anywhere around cigarette smoke. You didn't really believe that cigarettes and drinking could have that bad of an effect, and you didn't do them all that often anyways. But Johnny refused to take any risks. He wanted to give your kid everything that Johnny didn't receive growing up, and that started with making sure you were as healthy as possible.

It wasn't long before he gave up smoking, too. It was tough, for both of you- really tough, actually, but you managed to make it through. If he could give up slaughtering and being a cannibal, he could give up cigs, and he knew you could too.

When the morning sickness started, he swore that you were dying. You had to reassure him constantly that it was fine, but only when your doctor also reassured him of this did he finally let it go. Still, he made sure to get whatever anti-nausea remedies possible, since you 'needed to keep the food inside of you' for the baby.

Oh, that too. He made meals. on meals. on meals. on meals. He was still a butcher, so he got first pick of the meats, and he loved bragging that he cut it himself. It was actually really cute to see someone so muscular and manly in the kitchen seasoning chicken and making salads. He was a really good cook. Wonder where he learned that...

Pregnancy cravings he would do his best to fuel, and while you joked about how he should try them with you, he refused. Listen- he could stomach a lot, but pickles in ice cream? Absolutely the fuck not. He could hardly watch you eat it, and he was a fucking cannibal for most of his life. But, he still provided them nonetheless.

Listen, the baby bump was one thing, but when you really started showing and started complaining about the baby kicking, he was at a loss for words. He didn't even know that was something that the baby could do at this stage. Well, to be fair, he didn't really know anything about pregnancy since he was the youngest in his family, but he could've assumed most of it. Other than the baby kicking. He'd ask over and over again if you were sure it wasn't just a stomach ache, or if you'd eaten something wrong.

In order to reassure him, you'd grab his wrists and put his palms against your belly. "What are you doin'?" "Just wait..." "Sweetpea, I'm serious, maybe we should go to the doct-" A pause. He looked between you and your belly. "Feel it?" "That... that was it?" "Mhm. That's our baby."

Rest assured, the first thing he did any time you mentioned the kicks in the future was reach to feel it himself. There was something about feeling the kicks that just... made him happy. Pleased him. Maybe it was knowing that your kid was healthy, or the fact that feeling it meant it was really happening- it just made the entire thing feel more real to him.

Around the 7 and a half month mark, he refused to let you do anything by yourself.

Getting food? "Nah, darlin' I can get it. Just stay here, I'll be right back."

Dropped something? "Don't- Don't go bendin' over, yer gonna fall, or hurt yerself. Where'd ya drop it? I'll get it."

Showering? "Hold onto my arm- I gotcha, sweetpea. How bout I run a bath fer ya? Make ya more comfortable."

Changing clothes? Well, he kind of already was there for that since he liked seeing you naked, especially with a baby bump, but you get the point. No matter what you were doing, he was there, doing his best to help you, even if it was pretty unnecessary sometimes.

Part 2 coming soon! Tumblr just has a word limit. Domestic fluff Johnny makes me so happy <333

#tcm game #johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter fluff #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny slaughter headcanons #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter tcm #johnny slaughter x reader fluff #tcm game fluff #Adapting to Johnny Slaughter

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kittyamore0 · 1 year

Text

Slashers find out their S/O has killed:

[Part 3]

Cw: blood, murder, sexual themes, GN! Reader, blood kink, sex mentions

CHARACTERS: Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Bubba Sawyer, Kurt Kunkle, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lector, Normal Bates

BO SINCLAIR

He was trying to lure in victims into his house for Vincent to kill

"Let me help you with that,"

BAM!

Blood splatters all over him

"THE FUCK-"

He's absolutely shocked

The hell did you come from?

"Sorry, Baby Bo."

He's finally staring at you, and you're holding a goddamn bat

A bloody bat.

Theres blood on him.

And it belongs to the person he was trying to lure in...

click. He could quite literally hear that noise as it finally clicked in his mind about what you had done

You just killed the person he was trying to lure in...

"H-HOLY SHIT!-"

"Y-YOU JUST?!-"

"WHERE DID YOU?!-"

"HUH?!"

He's just staring at you while you wipe the blood off his messy, bloody shirt

He snaps out of his daze when you land quick peck on his chapped lips

And where you this hot...?!

Needless to say, hes was very shocked and confused.

He still is, but hes come to an acceptance that you also kill people

LESTER SINCLAIR

"Les, i got something!"

"coming!"

He hopped in the truck and ruffled your hair

"Good job! What animal did you get?"

"You'll see~"

What in the hell did you mean by that.

He shrugged it off and let you drive

He noticed that the closer you guys got to your catch, the animals did in fact NOT look like animals

It looks like two people inspecting 4 dead bodies

wait,

WHAT THE FUCK-

Blood spilled all over the car windows

You just sat there laughing

When he got into the truck, he was expecting you got a roadkill

NOT FUCKING 6 HUMAN DEAD BODIES

He's shocked, he will not get over this

"O-oh, well, i have a killer S/O. That's nice..."

He's trying to rethink his life while you're just sitting there hugging him with dead bodies in front of the car

BUBBA SAWYER

He had just come back from chasing around a group full of boys and girls

He was very upset

He only managed to get 3 out of 6!

the other 3 went missing

He just assumed they had escaped

Though, there was no trail that they had escaped

Which confused him greatly

He noticed you cutting up something

Then he saw three heads and one alive chicken

Just what he needed

Some nice dinner

Wait.

Where'd you get those heads?

WAIT WERE THOSE THE OTHER THREE?!-

"Hey, Bub. These rascals were running around the house, and i wasn't going to let them make a mess here."

He's silent for a minute

"Bub? is something wrong?-"

You yelped when he picked you up and hugged your body against his

Happy babbling from him

KURT KUNKLE

Lets all be honest,

You both would use both of you're craziness to get fame

You would wear a mask while filming yourself stabbing someone

He would pretend that its special effects

Only on Halloween since its more believable

Has you hiding in the trunk of the car so you can pop out and slit the persons throat

Will actually laugh at this

He'll do those couple challenges with you after you'd just killed someone

Just watches you as you kill one of his passengers

Will automatically say 'no' if someone asked for help

He'll start driving crazy fast just to scare the passengers

Not too fast where the cops had to stop him though

He first met you when you were robbing a convenience store

You had a mask on and a gun held in your hand

He was confused on how the police hadnt come yet

That was until he saw that the cameras were shot down

You had killed almost everyone and was money and some snacks

You noticed his figure standing there, so you pointed your gun at him

"Woah, woah! Lets calm down now, alright?"

You held your gun down

You thought he was cute

He was your type

So, you just hopped over the counter and grabbed him

"W-wait, where we going?!-"

You ran out of the back door and into an alleyway

You took off your mask and put your index finger to your lips

He thought you was mad cute

"U-uh, so, whats your n-name? im Kurt-"

"Shut up, and move faster."

PATRICK BATEMAN

He honestly would not care

Oh, you kill?

Well, he kills too!

He would most likely team up with you, his S/O, to get rid of people who annoyed him

He thinks you're attractive when you kill

Sex after you or him had killed

He would literally go DOWN on you

slight blood kink

But doesn't like it when you have someone else's blood on you while you two are getting intimate

Doesn't like someone else's blood on him either

So, he'll shower or have you shower first

And after that, he'll pull out that knife and make little nips and cuts on your body

One way of him marking you

He'll show you off even more

He honestly knows if someone tried flirting with you, they'd be gone

And not because of him

HANNIBAL LECTOR

He came home and couldnt find you

He had checked everywhere in the house, except for one place

The garage

He opened the garage door to see you holding 2 huge bagged items

And 4 un-bagged...

Human bodies...

And 3 chickens

"Han! We ran out of food, so i got what you liked and something for me as well. Do remind me, which organ do you like best?"

He was shocked to say

But he quickly got over it

"Any is fine, dear."

He had a sincere smile plastered on his face

This made him feel more secure about you

His S/O went through the trouble to make him dinner that fits his interesting taste?

How...

Lovely.

He would have to find out a way to repay you

NORMAN BATES

He liked you. A lot.

But his mother didnt

At first.

You stepped into the bates motel with someone else with you

Norma, Normans mother, was already judging you

Norma took over when you went into your room with that other person

He made it towards your room, in front of your door

Then he heard screams

Norma was absolutely shocked

He used the master key to open the door and saw you murdering the other person you had come into the motel with

Norma took a liking to you

Someone who was like her son...

She didn't like the thought of her son, Norman, around people like you

But you were an exception

Norman had also liked you

The next day, Norman had took it upon himself to talk to you

Norma had encouraged him too

"H-hi, Im-Im Norman."

"Hello, Norman."

He fainted.

#hannibal #norman bates #bates motel #patrick bateman #bubba saywer x reader #bubba leatherface #american pyscho #house of wax #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw 3d #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw 2 #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #sinclair brothers #house of wax 2005 #spree x reader #spree movie #kurt kunkle

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befuddled-calico-whump · 2 months

Text

Total $hit$how: Good Cop

in which Jericho cracks a wall

cw: aftermath of violence, adult language

previous // masterlist //

×~×~×

When Harbor's hour was almost up, Jericho made his way back to the briefing room, a hopeful plan at the ready and a nervous feeling in his gut, every step closer to the door jiggling at his nerves like jello.

The word interrogation didn't exactly fill his head with pleasant images. In movies, it was usually portrayed as torture, ineffective on the protagonist but shockingly useful against any minions the heroes snatched for intel. In real life, he'd experienced something like it once or twice. Corporate cronies trying to grill a confession out of him; entrapping questions intended to get him to admit to anything they could twist into something worthy of an arrest. Those were some of the scariest moments of his life, and even though he'd insisted on his own ignorance, in the end he was only saved by a lack of evidence of his hacking activities (hacktivities?).

Jericho's own encounters had been pretty mild, but he still wasn't eager to put anyone else through it.

Then again, this was just a challenge, wasn't it? Succeeding didn't mean they'd suddenly be required to hurt Finley, it only meant Sahota wouldn't kill her. If they managed to win, maybe they could pursue Joy's original idea and just talk to the woman. Whether she was a hardened criminal or not, surely she'd be willing to help if she knew the safety of the city was on the line.

…But that was all a big if. Unless Harbor had managed to pull a trick out of his hat, no one had been successful so far, which left Jericho. Jericho going toe-to-toe against Sahota's boundless willpower. No big deal, just a stranger's life hanging in the balance.

If he failed, could they still back out?

There were other avenues. Both Sahota and Vic had been clear on that, but the group's own insistence had gotten them to this point. If they completely gave up on Finley as a lead now, they'd have just wasted a day, and he doubted Vic would be very happy about that, but between wasting a day and throwing away an entire person, Jericho knew what he'd choose.

From the moment the challenge was announced, he knew what method he'd be using. Bad-cop good-cop, sans the bad-cop. In his experience, difficult people could be swayed to a cause if the reason behind it was just explained, if he pled to their humanity and compassion. And sure, some people were so far up their own bias that they'd refuse to listen, but it was worth a try.

Hell, it was how he got Ari to take a chance on asparagus.

He was prepared to act on the same technique he'd use if they actually won, if they got a chance with Finley: Just talk. A conversation might be all they needed. The Reality Cage was potentially destructive. If Finley knew that, knew what was at stake, wouldn't she help them? It wasn't even as if she'd be responsible for destroying it. She'd just have to tell them how. Some part of her had to exist that would want them to succeed, to save people.

Jericho was inclined to believe that the same could be said about Sahota. He'd given them this chance in the first place, hadn't he? Why let them try at all, unless he wasn't too keen on killing Finley either? If that was true, if this was more than just a lesson in their own inadequacy, Jericho had hope that this whole mission wouldn't wind up as violent as he feared.

Footsteps drew his attention back to the corridor ahead, and he looked up to see Harbor, head drooping, wild multicolored hair obscuring his face. His walk was usually something between a sway and a stumble, but it looked more erratic now, with him nearly bumping into the walls as he went.

“Hey,” Jericho started, but his voice caught when his gaze landed on Harbor's hands. His knuckles were red, skin splitting in some places, blood drying in the lines of his fingers. Totally cut up, and not from the morning’s sparring matches, so that meant… Jericho’s stomach twisted.

Sahota.

Harbor didn't look up, passing right by him as if he wasn't even aware he was there.

“Harbor—”

“Fuck off,” he said in a voice that sounded bitten off, and disappeared around the corner. Jericho had to stop himself from chasing after the other man, from asking what happened.

It was pretty clear what had happened, but why? Harbor was rough around the edges, but he didn't seem like the kind of person who enjoyed hurting someone else, especially not a someone else who was already injured. A part of him hoped that he was jumping to conclusions, that Harbor had just… punched the wall or something to try and intimidate their trainer. But before he made it to the end of the hall, before he could even open the door, he knew what he would see.

An anxious sort of nausea built in Jericho’s stomach as he took in the scene, deliberately avoiding the focus of it as long as he could. The briefing room had been cleared, the big table pushed to one side to make space for the day's challenge.

In the center, tied to a chair, sat Sahota. Blood and spit hung from his face in sticky strands, and his head sat heavy atop his shoulders, like he was struggling to keep it up. His cheek was split, the cut on his lip reopened and dribbling blood, and the eye that had been bruised was now nearly swollen shut.

Jericho’s heart beat faster.

“Is your plan just to stand there?” Sahota mumbled. “Or do you have a better idea?”

And he was just acting like it hadn’t happened. Jericho had already gathered that Sahota didn't like to show any weakness, but this was bigger than pride. Their trainer had been hurt, while he was tied down, by someone who was supposed to be on their team.

“Are you okay?” He clearly wasn't.

“Fine.”

“Did Harbor do this?” Why was he asking such stupid, obvious questions? Why couldn't he make himself step forward to untie the other man? Because of how little he wanted to believe it was true? Because of how surreal it was?

“I… I told him to,” Sahota replied.

What? Hadn’t he warned them all not to do anything he couldn’t sleep off? No matter how tough Sahota was, this didn’t look like it fell into that category.

“Let me cut you loose,” Jericho said, finally breaking a leg free of the uncertainty that held it captive, taking a step closer.

“No,” Sahota said, and he froze in his tracks. “Do what you came to do or get out. I don’t need your help.”

Jericho grimaced. “Should we really continue? You should get cleaned up, maybe—”

“I said I'm fine.”

Same song, different verse. He'd said he was fine yesterday, even after they'd all seen the video that so clearly told them he wasn't.

“Sahota…”

“Davis,” he answered in a clipped tone. “If you can't ignore the blood, leave.” He took a shaky breath, coughed, sent little flecks of red flying. “Tell me what information you're after and pursue it, or get out.”

Jericho exhaled through clenched teeth. It was pretty clear that no matter what he said, their trainer was determined to suffer through this. Was there any point in continuing? He could just leave. Walk away, abandon Sahota to his own wounds and pride, but it didn't feel right. What would happen? How long would it take Sahota to get free on his own? Better to finish the exercise and hope his trainer allowed help after it was completed.

“Okay,” he said, letting out a resigned sigh. “I want to know your first name. That’s what I’m after.”

“Then get on with it.”

Jericho took a deep breath. Ignore the blood. How was he supposed to do that?

“Hey,” he began, forcing a smile. “My… uh, my name's Jericho. I have a few questions for you, and…” he couldn't stay on track with this. He couldn't just pretend Sahota wasn't actively in pain in front of him.

“And I'd like to apologize for any rough treatment you received before I got here. It… that wasn't my intention,” he said. “I didn't want to hurt you.”

Sahota scoffed. It sounded closer to a wheeze. “Do you think Finley will buy that?”

“I don't… Maybe.” Jericho sighed. “Let me start again. Hey,” he said. “You… uh, you have some information that I need. Pretty badly." Everything he said just sounded dumb. "I want to know your name. Sounds weird, I know, but this… you could help me stop a lot of people from getting hurt.”

“What if she doesn't care?” Sahota said.

“There's hundreds of thousands of people in this city,” Jericho continued, trying not to let the other man's words deter him. “Right now, all of them are at risk. If you’ll just work with me here, we can keep them safe.”

Sahota didn't answer. And really, he had a point. Even if Finley did care about the well-being of the city, she’d have no reason to believe anything they said. How could they convince her?

“My family doesn't live here,” Jericho tried. He was truly thankful that they didn't. Having to worry about their safety, their potential destruction at the hands of an uncaring company would be terrible.

“My mom, daughter, aunts, uncles, cousins… they're not the ones in danger," he continued. "But people like them are. I’d never be able to sleep again if something just… destroyed people's lives. Something I could've prevented.” He clasped his hands together, hoped the motion looked sincere. “That's why I'm here. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be your enemy. I just want to help people.”

Jericho sighed when that didn't get a response. He shouldn't be too disheartened. Sahota probably just didn't have much energy for conversation. Not after Harbor… did that. He glanced down at his own knuckles, still sore from fighting the taserbots just a few days ago. He'd saved Harbor. He’d thought they were finally starting to meld together and work as a team, but teammates didn't do this to each other. Even if Sahota had ordered it, why would he take it that far?

“I'm sorry about what happened,” he said. “I know someone on my team hurt you.” He swallowed. “Whoever… whoever touched you was in the wrong. You didn't deserve to be hurt like that, and… I'm sorry.” He was. He really was. He'd need to find Harbor after this. They could talk it out.

“I won't let it happen again,” Jericho said. “If someone tries to touch you, just let me know, okay? I'll stop them. I know I'm basically a stranger, but I promise I want to help you. I promise you're not alone. I—”

He stopped at an odd noise. A catch in Sahota's breath, a sound that was oddly familiar but out of place. It took a second for Jericho to realize that Ari made a sound just like it sometimes. When she was trying not to cry.

“Sahota?”

No answer, just another shaky inhale. Shoot, he knew he shouldn't have proceeded, not when he was all beat up like this. Even with Finley on the line… Vic be damned, he'd fight for it to be nothing more than a wasted day. He was fine abandoning the lead, he was fine admitting defeat here.

He wasn't fine leaving Sahota like this.

Jericho exhaled sharply through his nose, crossing the room in two strides to reach the chair their trainer was strapped to and setting to work on the knots. Surprisingly, Sahota didn't tell him off this time, just sat with his head bent and his shoulders shaking.

Why was he crying? Of course, Jericho couldn't blame him. He was probably overwhelmed with everything that was going on, and this was just the straw that had broken the camel's back. But what was ‘this’? What had been his breaking point? Had something he said triggered it?

He fumbled with the ropes, eventually managing to find a weak point in each knot and pull them loose, letting the bindings coil to the floor.

Now with his arms free, Sahota buried his face in his hands.

“Fuck,” he whispered in a thick voice. “I… I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Jericho said, taking a step back. The other man refused to look up. He could understand if he was embarrassed. Holding up an emotionless, unshakable facade all the time must be exhausting, but it would also be jarring to ever let it drop. He got it.

“The exercise is over,” Sahota said, still not raising his head.

“Alright.” Jericho couldn't let himself be mad about it. He'd given it a try, but if their trainer was just too overwhelmed right now, and no way was Jericho going to push him further. They could worry about Finley later. “Seriously though, are you okay?” he said. “There's no shame in not being fine. I know you're under a lot of stress.”

It took a moment for the other man to respond. “Go wait by the mats. I need to reset this room.”

I need some time alone.

“Okay,” Jericho said softly, backing towards the door. “Do you… want a hand getting patched up?”

“I'll handle it.”

Alright. He wouldn't push him. “Okay,” he said again. “I… guess I'll give you some space.”

It felt like it was all for nothing. Their idea for a peaceful approach had already resulted in violence, and for what? They’d all failed. They were no closer to their goal than they'd been yesterday.

He had one foot out the door when Sahota called after him.

“Davis.” It wasn't loud. It sounded uncertain, like he might ‘nevermind’ him and send him on his way. Jericho turned around, determined to be patient, to show he was at least willing to listen, even if their trainer said nothing else. But instead of sitting silent, instead of ordering him off, Sahota spoke. His head stayed bowed, hands tangled tightly around each other, eyes on the floor.

“It's Ander,” he said. “My name is Ander.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight

#ive been sitting on this for too long #it's not perfect but its gotta get out there at some point eh? write and don't look back too hard #total$hit$how #aftermath of whump #blood #beaten #angst #whump writing

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imfinereallyy · 8 days

Text

cw: drugs, morally grey characters

The bathroom doesn’t give the kind of quiet Steve needs right now.

What should have he expected in a club on Friday night?

Fuck, think Harrington. What would Robin do?

She probably wouldn’t have gotten caught in the first place, that’s what. God she is going to kill him if he doesn’t check in later.

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to get comfortable on his spot on the toilet. His jeans are going to be disgusting later.

The bass thumped loudly throughout the bathroom. The walls shook as the music makes its way in as the door swings open with each patron rushing in out.

He is never going to get the kind of privacy he needs to get out of this.

The red glow of the lights seems more fitting for a place for people to fuck in rather than take a piss, but Steve supposes that maybe it’s the point.

Coming to blank, the point was to either get fucked or get fucked up.

Running his hands through his hair, Steve went over his options.

1. He has a knife in his boot. Steve isn’t afraid of the consequences of killing a man, his soul lost the right to be saved a long time ago. But he doesn’t feel too good about killing someone at random. Death should have a point if it is coming from the hands of a man. He’ll leave the pointless deaths up to a god he doesn’t believe in.

2. He can try and make a break for it. He only has a sea of partiers to get through, at least half of them on coke or molly. And make it to the parking lot without getting caught by security, and then find a way to get home.

Fuck.

3. Dump the drugs, flush them down the toilet. Worry about money later.

Considering the guy after him is a fucking FBI agent, and Steve would love nothing more to get rid of a glorified cop, he doesn’t feel like putting his face on the top of FBI’s most wanted list.

Flushing it is.

Steve takes the baggies of coke out of his pockets. Sure, he won’t go away for long if the agent caught him with it, but it will give the bureau an opportunity to try and get him to talk, and Steve despite popular belief isn’t fucking stupid. He isn’t going to talk.

Even if he wants to, Steve is sure that his head would have a pretty little bullet hole in it before he even steps into court for arraignment.

No matter who his father is. Maybe especially cause so.

Steve can feel the sweat start to pool at the bottom of his shirt. He hasn’t taken anything tonight, maybe he should thank that mythical god he doesn’t believe in for that one. But Steve’s stress is going up with the temperature of the room.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Steve stands and kicks up the rim of the toliet, he can’t afford to miss.

His head starts to pound with the base.

Bump. Bump. Bump. Slam.

The world crashes with noise. Steve has no time before his stall door is thrown open. Steve forgot to lock the fucking door.

Steve throws his hands up, baggies still in his hands, sweat dripping down his back. Chest heaving up and down, Steve is frozen at the sight in front of him.

It’s not the FBI, which is good.

It’s not his boss, which is better.

But in front of him, is one of the most beautiful men he has ever seen. A dark shadow lit up but the red lights. Long, curly black hair falls upon a red silk shirt. Tattoos, rings, piercings…everywhere. Big brown eyes staring directly at Steve.

Gorgeous…

Unfortunately he’s not only one of the most beautiful men out there….

“Hey there princess.”

…but also the most dangerous..

“I believe you have something that interests me.” The man all but growls.

Eddie fucking Munson.

Steve finds the courage to speak, “Yea, what’s that?”

A wicked grin spreads across his lips, “A ticket in.”

Steve’s worried he might have to make a deal with the devil.

🪩🫧🍸 🔪🥂🫧✧˖°

#morally grey Eddie Munson #morally grey Steve Harrington #like they are gonna be fucked up in this one #well if I continue it #it might be nothing #I just love morally grey steddie I need more of it #morally grey steddie #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #ao3 #modern steddie #modern au

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ovaryacted · 4 months

Note

For that prompt game thingy

99 with leon x slasher reader maybe :0

Hey!! Thank you for requesting! I'm literally so sorry this took me such a long time to write and it turned out much longer than I anticipated. I've never really done anything dark-ish or with suspense, so I wanted to take a shot at it and see what my brain came up with but of course, it took me a while lol. I think for this one probably RE2R Leon, just him as a regular cop, and he lives in a city so dealer’s choice. Anyways, hopefully, this is interesting cause I’m a little nervous lolz. :) [ prompt game ]

99. “We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.” RE2R Leon x reader [cw: slightly dark themes, mentions of body parts & violence] - 1.5k words

It hasn't been long since Leon started his new job as a rookie cop, excited was an understatement. Yet it seemed as if the universe had given him the worst possible combination of a new role and what seemed to be someone on a killing spree.

The first case happened a few weeks ago, a young male was reported to be slashed over his torso. It was one knife wound to the upper chest, clean and efficient, followed by another to the lung and one more up the stomach. Leon was on the scene, answering the call of a distressed citizen when they found the body in an alleyway, and the sight was enough to make him nauseous. It was seen as a premeditated murder case, but there were no traces of the perpetrator left behind. No fingerprints, no lost weapons, nothing.

Like a ghost in the wind, it was a dead end.

The more experienced agents took over the investigation, and Leon was back to being a cop. He thought it was over, that he’d be able to go back on patrol duty and ride along in his car.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

The murders became more frequent, almost for show, and the way the deaths were done became more theatric as time passed. Week after week, more people began to disappear from the city, mostly male victims each torn apart in exuberant ways. A gash up the spine, a straight slash across the neck, another had an arm and leg detached from the person's torso. But the main wound on the chest of each victim was the only controlled variable between all of them.

Either way, it seemed like someone was enjoying their time passionately tearing other people apart.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it”, Leon mumbled to himself as you washed up the dishes in the kitchen after dinner. He had been out working on these cases tirelessly, constantly on patrol, and barely been home with you as a result of everything piling up.

“Who just goes around and starts randomly killing people? I mean, this feels like some shit out of a horror movie”, he continued to speak, raising his head to look at the back of your head.

“Some people are just crazy like that. You know how people get inspiration from those crazed fanatics on those cult forums”, you commented, finishing washing the cooking pot you had in the sink and putting it on the drying rack.

“If it was one thing I wasn’t expecting, was to deal with a mass murderer the first few weeks of my damn job”, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as the stress was starting to take its toll.

“Just your luck huh?”, you said with a teasing smirk, wiping the knife you were cleaning with a soapy sponge.

You were almost methodical with the way you handled the blade, watching the suds sliding off of it as you rinsed it, careful not to cut yourself. You dried it with one of the dishtowels you threw to the side, the metal gleaming under the kitchen light. Giving it one last good wipe you put it back in the wooden block along with the rest of your knife collection.

“Maybe what you need is a vacation. Away from this mess. You have some PTO you could take right?”, you asked as you walked towards him, sitting on his lap while he remained seated on the dining room chair. He pondered for a bit, watching how you flicked the ends of his hair and curled it around your finger.

“I mean I do but…the chief might not like it if I left so abruptly. Don’t want to make the wrong impression”, he contemplated it, trying to fight you on your words but it was something on his mind.

“You need a break Leon, from all of this. Say it’s a family emergency or something. I hate seeing you so stressed like this baby”, you pouted at him, lips puckering out as you kissed him on the tip of the nose. “Just a few days, that’s all I’m asking”

He caressed your lower back affectionately as you sat on his lap, feeling your hands squeezing his shoulders and rubbing his chest. The nagging voice in his head kept thinking about your proposition, the image of being away with you and just enjoying his time sounded beyond appealing. It wouldn’t be so bad right? He glanced at you and gave you a small smile.

“A break doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll see if I can snag a couple of days off okay?”, Leon said to you, and you cheered happily at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“We'll go take a little vacation. Just you and me”, your eyes held that promise of excitement as they bore into Leon’s, content that he was at least going to try for your sake.

You were patient as you waited for any sign of Leon possibly getting time off, thinking that you wouldn’t have any luck with the way things were. But the moment you were granted a win once he spoke to the chief, you nearly jumped on top of him from joy. It didn’t take long before you both packed your bags and drove off into the mountains, renting a cabin that would be good for a weekend of leisure. The both of you were excited to finally get away from all the chaos in the city and to just spend some quality time together.

But what you envisioned when it came to a vacation was completely different from what Leon had in mind.

He didn’t recall how it happened. One minute you two were having dinner, eating some steak and potatoes paired with some red wine. The next, his head felt dizzy as he struggled to keep himself upright, calling out your name before his vision faded to black.

Now he found himself with his arms and ankles tied together by some rope, slouched on the floor and disheveled. He didn’t know how he managed to get into this precarious situation, but it was all giving him whiplash. The wood paneling of the walls was different, it was dim and quiet in the cabin and his surroundings were unusual.

Was he back at the cabin? Was he still in the same place with you? Where were you?

His mind was going a mile a minute and his nerves were on high, the skills he’s developed from being a cop going into overdrive to come up with a solution. Leon started looking around, scrabbling to find anything to help him free his hands so he could look for you.

But that’s when he heard it, when your bubbly laughter filtered through the crisp air surrounding him. His ears perked up the sound, perceptive blue eyes observing you diligently as you came into view. There was a dark and twisted grin on your face, something he’s never seen before.

“What the hell is going on?”, he was confused, couldn’t make sense of the current circumstances. But all he wondered was why you looked at him as if he were a meal. Some plaything for your enjoyment.

“Well, I needed to get you out of here. I couldn’t keep having you on my trail sweetheart. That’s when the fun ends”, in your hand was the familiar kitchen blade, shiny and sharpened, gleaming despite the darkness of the room you were both in. It took a second before the realization hit him, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as a wave of overlapping emotions washed over him.

“It was you?”, his eyes widened as he watched you, finally connecting the dots. The slasher he’d been looking for was right under his nose the entire time, so deeply hidden he didn’t even think it was possible. He was sleeping with the devil, and it made his stomach churn.

“Why? Why did you do it?!”, it felt like his entire world was falling apart, his sense of normalcy that he had worked so hard to achieve was gone in the blink of an eye. And he couldn’t do anything to save it.

“Had some things to take care of, needed to get my stress out somehow. Sorry if I have hobbies”, this was all a joke to you, if anything it was entertaining to see Leon suffer.

“It doesn’t have to be like this. Nothing bad has to happen here”, he felt pathetic as he begged, looking at you in hopes of finding any trace of morality left.

All you could do was laugh at him, loud and shameless. You took a step closer, crouching down to his level as you grazed the tip of the knife from his throat up towards his chin. Your gaze darkened and your smile curled, sending a chill down Leon’s spine.

“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#ovaryacted asks #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #ovaryacted drabbles #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆#literally why is this so long lmfao??#like okay bro PLEASE

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flwrbo · 5 months

Text

i love you forever, i love you forever. (e. yeager x reader)

cw : toxic relationship , fist fights (NOT between eren & reader) , drunk fighting , blood , reader & eren both get injured . 1.3k words

a/n : there’s a reference to eren injuring the reader but once again, he does not personally inflict pain on her.

The clatter of the night life around was loud, so loud, you just wanted to be home and away from all the noise. Eren’s arm was strong beneath yours where you were holding it under your grasp. It made you appreciate his ability to hold you up.

Everything was going to plan. You and the group had gone to a bar tonight, partied a little, and drank a lot. And it was fun, of course it was, but now you just wanted to be under the covers with your boyfriend away from the rest of the world.

And it nearly went perfectly. Almost. If it weren’t for some dude bumping into your shoulder as he waltzes past you. On one hand, you were a little annoyed that the asshole couldn’t even apologize. On the other hand, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a shit. Things happen. You didn’t have the energy to deal with it much anyway.

You and Eren were different. That’s why you guys work so well together, is what you told yourself. Other people argue that’s the reason you two butt heads so much. Where you liked romantic comedies, Eren likes documentaries. Where you prefer Mexican, Eren prefers Italian. When you get docile when you’re drunk, Eren gets angry. So when you go to keep moving, Eren nearly knocks you back from where you’re still holding onto his arm.

“Aren’t you going to apologize?” He glares at the man.

“Maybe you two should watch where you’re going.”

Oh, great.

You try to calm him down with a, “C’mon, Eren, let’s go home.” But whatever impact it would’ve had was immediately cut down when the other man replies:

“Yeah, Eren, listen to your clumsy ass bitch and go home.”

And, well, it was out of your hands from there.

Eren pushes you out of the way before he swings on the man, and a flurry of limbs and grunts flying around the semi vacant street.

You call out his name, trying to grab him free, which knocks him off his coordination very slightly. The man is able to get in a hit or two to his face but it doesn’t matter at all, because of you. You get too close to the crossfire, and the rude man’s fist knocks into your lip.

And, fuck. That stings. You stumble back, nearly falling on your ass. Suddenly you feel a lot more sober. The sound of your whimper pushes your boyfriend into a red hot rage and whatever chance he had of pulling off the man was thrown out of the window.

You grab your phone in a shaken frenzy to call Jean and Connie, knowing they were still at the bar a few minutes walk away.

It’s too late for the man’s dignity and well being. When Jean and Connie finally arrive, running to separate the two men from the ground, he was pummeled already.

Eren’s cut cheekbone was swollen, nose bleeding. But it wasn’t nearly comparable to the sight of the man in Connie’s grasp, clutching his side where Eren probably bruised a few ribs.

Distant sirens catch your attention, and your eyes widen. “You guys need to get the fuck out of here, now.” You hear Jean say, pushing Eren out of his hold towards you. Eren looks like he’s ready to go in for another round, but Jean intervenes. “Now, Yeager.”

You grab Eren’s hand and immediately begin speed walking in the direction of your apartment.

“Fuck, Ren.” You hated this. You hated that your lip was now split. You hated that your boyfriend can’t control himself. And more than any of that, you hated running, which you’re now forced to do.

Sirens get louder, causing your boyfriend to curse and pull you into some alley that’s semi well hidden. The darkness of the night and lack of street lights was enough to promise your temporary safety from the cops.

Eren holds you against the wall, looking down at you with wild eyes.

“You could’ve fucking killed him,” You spat, finally catching your breath.

“Good, that motherfucker deserved it,” He retorts.

You go to reply when the sirens finally pass by the street alley you’re on.

“You’re so fucking hard headed.” Is your response once it’s deemed safe. You push him off of you, as you run your hands down your skirt. “You didn’t have to do all of that.”

“So I should’ve let him sit there and disrespect you?”

“He didn’t just disrespect me, he disrespected you. And I know you.” You point a well manicured finger at him. “That probably pissed you off more.”

“Why are you turning this shit on me? Do you want a fucking pussy for a boyfriend, then? You like being knocked around and called a bitch?”

“Right, cause it’s only okay when you do it.” Is your sharp reply before you’re turning on your heel to head home.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” His voice sharpens.

You ignore him, continuing your walk. He jogs up behind you and pulls you back by your arms.

“Eren- oof!” He pushes you into a wall.

His nose has stopped bleeding but his cheekbone still has a drop dripping. His hair is wild, his eyes are blown. He looks insane. But what’s more insane is the fact that you still trust him, and know that he wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head.

“Say that again.”

“You heard me.”

He brings a hand up to your jaw, grip far too soft for the look in his eye. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stares at you with a harsh glare.

“What, are you gonna treat me like that guy? Rough me up?” You grit out, angry that your night that was supposed to be peaceful was gonna be replaced with bandaging up your ill tempered boyfriend, and showering this alley’s dirt off your skin.

He suddenly snapped out of it. His grip where he was holding you by your hip and shoulder loosened. “No.” His voice was hoarse. “I would never do that. I would never do that.” He steps away from you, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

You don’t say anything for a minute, just staring at him. You wipe at your bloodied lip, and eye your red fingers.

His eyes soften at the sight of you, and he reaches out to gently trace just underneath it. “I hate seeing this. It’s my fault you were even put in that position,” He sighs.

You shrug, feeling your anger melt away at the sight of your bloodied and broken boyfriend. “It’s okay,” It wasn’t.

“No, it’s not.” He pulls you back into him, in a hug this time. “I’m so sorry, baby. Fuck,”

His arms are strong around you. He still smells good somehow.

“I love you. I’m an idiot.” He tsks, kissing you. If he minds the blood, he doesn’t mention it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You sigh out, kissing him again.

He slowly backs you into the wall again, for a different reason this time. His kisses become harsher, stinging your lip. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He hoists you up on his lap, continuing to kiss you deeply as if he never would again. “It’s all for you,” He mumbles against your lips. “All of it.”

You knew that. And you know it’s why you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him.

When you two finally pull yourselves out of the alley, it’s closing up on morning time.

“Let’s watch one of those comedies you like tonight,” Eren holds your hand, swinging it.

“Okay, but after we shower. And I definitely won’t make it past the opening credits,” You warn. He laughs, and the two of you continue to stroll down the sidewalk.

You know you must look like quite the sight, the two of you. Your knuckles intertwined with Eren’s bloodied ones. Your busted lip matching his purple stained cheekbone. And your two dopey smiles. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

#<3.eren #eren yeager x reader #tw.toxic #attack on titan x reader

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oceanofsinners · 8 months

Text

Yan mental hospital patient x their sweet, oblivious therapist<3

[mdni, or do, i really couldn’t care less i’m not your parents. uhhh tw/cw for: violence, attempted murder i guess?? one small suggestive comment i had to add lmao, manipulation, general yandere stuff y'know? lmk if i should add anything else. also first post omg??]

Dakota was tired of the plain white walls, the doors with locks from the outside only, and the constant surveillance and prying eyes of the place he grew to see as his “home” because of his very frequent visits.

He constantly went to the mental institution, leaving for only a few days before coming back.

Younger kids and visitors looked up to him, and he enjoyed their company, despite not understanding why they did. He let them touch his scars and braid his hair. He was an excellent role model, despite it all.

Dakota found the schedule of getting up, getting vitals checked, going to breakfast, doing group therapy and so on annoying, as anyone would.

Some days, he lays in bed — till a security guard comes and drags him out — wondering, “how the hell is this boring, horrible, stuffy place supposed to fix people?”

He never understood. And he doubted that he ever would. Till you came. Then, it seemed, like all his old problems solved themselves and fresh problems arose. [including the one in his pants.]

He's been through multiple therapists, older and younger, brand new and those who've been here for years. None can help him. Instead, he just lies till he's released. And then comes back within days. [always having to be restrained by multiple cops, coming back kicking and screaming that he's going to kill himself and everyone else.]

However, as soon as he saw you, his day brightened immediately. Other staff members were reasonably shocked that the gloomy, mean, depressed, easily upset, violent Dakota seemed...happy for once.

Except, you're not his therapist. He's pissed. Of course he is, you're the first person he's ever liked in this stupid fucking place! [don't mention the fact the two of you haven't even met.]

With a little asking [blackmailing.] around, he learns who's your patient. His name being Quinn, it's around 3 pm, around the time where everyone's free to do whatever, and just before therapy starts. Perfect!

He walks up to the guy who's your patient, swiping a pencil off the kids' table. [none of which protest, knowing by now that it's best they don't.]

Dakota taps Quinn on the shoulder, making the shorter guy turn around, his mouth open to say something, before a sharp scream escapes instead.

Dakota has a crooked grin on his face as he forces the pencil further into the guys eye socket, yanking it out as Quinn drops to the floor, and he stabs the — now broken — pencil into his throat, just a couple inches from his artery.

Quinn chokes on his own blood, while security guards force Dakota off the smaller boy, forcing him to solitary confinement. Dakota laughs as they pull him away, while nurses do their best to keep Quinn alive.

“Stupid fucking homicidal maniac.” One guard growls as they shove Dakota into his cell, while Dakota grins the entire time, uncaring of what the others say.

A couple hours pass, and Dakota once again grows bored and weary of the bleak walls, the uncomfortable bed, and the never-ending silence.

Eventually, the door opens. He's laying on his bed, looking up at the plain white, boring ceiling. He doesn't cast a look at the intruder, and couldn't care less who they are.

“Your name's Dakota, right?” Dakota flinches at the sound of your voice. His head snaps over towards you, where you stand in the doorway, and he can see one of the guards watching carefully.

You step further into the room, accessing the room with a frown. You seem to be just as upset as Dakota with the way the room looks.

“I saw what you did to Quinn — my patient —, and I asked if I could become your therapist instead. They agreed, of course. Which is why I’m here.” Dakota’s distracted by just how sweet you sound, and the kind smile on your face despite it all.

He has a hard time wrapping his head around it. You saw him attempt to kill someone, and yet, you're being kind to him? It doesn't make sense. You don't make sense.

You sit down opposite of him on the bed, and begin asking the normal questions. Instead of lying like he normally would, he actually tells the truth. It shocks both you and him.

“What do you go by?” “He/him.”

“Why are you here currently?” “I tried to kill myself and a friend.”

“Do you feel regret for what you did?” “No.”

The questioning goes on for hours, and the two of you talk for hours, far longer then your supposed to. Therapy ended a long time ago.

No, now it's more like a chat between you two, the way you two connect is like two pieces of a puzzle.

You glance up at the clock, eyes widening when you notice the time. You apologize for having to leave so abruptly, and Dakota frowns in response.

[silly, silly you, thinking you could leave him so easily? as if.]

Dakota grabs your hand, tearing up as you glance down at him. “Ple-Please, don't leave, I—I...I’m afraid of being alone...pl-please...” He closes his eyes, swallowing thickly.

You pause, taking pity on him as you sigh, nodding as you sit down on the creaky bed once again.

He lays his head on your chest, making you tense up as you slowly put your arm around his shoulders.

“Y’know, we really shouldn't be doing this. Isn't this going against some law?” You mumble against his ear, and he shrugs.

“I—I don't know...Y-You don't have to stay.” Dakota’s voice trembles, tears sliding down his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You bite your lip, glancing at the door, he was right. You could leave. But your job is to make him better, leaving him would only make it worse...right? You shake your head.

“No, it's fine, I’ll stay. But I have to leave early in the morning, kay, Dakota?” You glance down at him, your eyes meeting bright green ones. He nods, smiling against your skin.

“That’s okay! Just, don't leave yet, please?” You nod once again, and the two of you talk while you slowly nod off. Eventually you lay down, him still laying against your chest.

You fall asleep with the red haired boy laying on your chest, a sick, crooked grin on his face. He moves out of your grip, straddling your hips.

He plays with your hair as he watches you sleep, oh so peacefully, by the side of an attempted murderer. It's almost insane how you fell asleep, knowing he was by your side and you two were alone.

He leans down, his chapped and bloody lips meeting yours, it's delicate, barely even a kiss.

He giggles giddily, pulling out your phone and rolling to your side, head on your chest and phone in hand as he goes through it.

He deletes anyone in your contacts who may threaten your relationship, takes photos of you two, amongst other things.

Slowly, his eyes grow heavy, and he stuffs your phone back into your pocket, closing his eyes as he curls around you possessively.

The two of you sleep like that til someone comes in the morning, and sees you and him curled up, the thin blanket thrown on the floor by Dakota so when it got cold you'd curl around him.

Dakota’s eyes are already open by the time the nurse walks in, giving her the middle finger and that crooked grin on his face while her eyes widen, and she slowly walks out, closing the door.

You're completely unaware of the monster you're supporting, and it's going to stay that way, whether you like it or not.

#┆︴YOUR HOST ٭ NICO #yandere #x reader #oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #first post #oc

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