#tw betrayal

[digenerate-trash]

tw yandere, tw rape, tw noncon, tw betraya,l tw virginity loss, tw somno.

AMAB Robin | GN PC

It's disgusting what he's doing. He knows that. But Robin can't seem to help himself as he climbs up on top of you. Even in your sleep, you seem to glow with a Divine light he can never seem to forget. It haunts his dreams. Beckoning him. It speaks in a soft voice as it leads him dreamily from his room to yours.

The light taunts and pleads all at once. And Robin wants to hold it... just once.

His hands roam your beautiful body. He pulls sheets and fabric away from you as he finally gets to look at your skin. Your perfect skin...

At first Robin is gentle. He leans down and plants a kiss on your stomach. It's light and soft. But Robin's mouth opens and he shutters as he drags his tongue along your skin. He can see your wings twitch and your nose scrunch up as he mouths at your flesh.

It tastes so sweet.

He bites. He doesn't mean to but he does. It causes you to jolt. But not wake up Robin sighs a bit before he moves his face lower down between your legs. He continues to kiss and lick until you’re moaning soft sounds in your sleep before he sits up fishing himself out of his pants

He's sorry you won't be awake for your first time- but with that halo, you kept insisting you were never going to lose your virginity. As if he had waited all this time for nothing.

Robin shakes off the guilt and lines himself up. He holds each side of your pillow tightly before he shoves himself into the hilt.

Instantly you're awake now. You are thrashing and squirming. Someone's attacking you- in the dark, you can't quite see them but you hit, kick, and try and scream as best you can. You can feel the halo over your head start to shatter. It sounds like broken glass echoing through large halls. Your ears ring as you scream and try to get free.

Robin pulls the pillow over to muffle your screams as he continues thrusting into you. Your body is still perfect even like this. Even when you're scared you're so alluring. Robin can't help himself as he starts to move faster.

At this point, you're struggling for air. The panic makes it hard to focus as you breathe in the small amount of oxygen that you can. Your wings twitch and you feel a bitterness reach your core as you lose your purity...

Still your body aches. And the edges of your vision blacken.

When Robin finally finishes your breathing has slowed. You are no longer fighting. He takes the pillow away from your face and checks to ensure you're still breathing. You are. Thank God... but your light is gone. Your hallow is shattered... your body no longer glows... Plagued with guilt he climbs off you and rushes back to his room.

The next morning you're a mess. You cry for hours before you can even think about getting up later Robin comes to your room to make sure you're okay and when you explain that someone had broken and defiled you he can't even look at you. You feel so guilty as you hug him close. Your grip is so tight you're barely paying attention to Robin.

His gaze stuck to his reflection on the mirror in your room.

It must be a trick of the light

Or just his sleep-deprived mind playing tricks?

But he swears he sees horns.

#Robin the orphan #yan dol #yandere #tw yandere #tw rape #tw noncon #tw betrayal #tw virginity loss #tw somno

[serickswrites]

The Unforgiven

Warnings: betrayal, head injury, stranded

Whumpee sat down. They had been walking for hours and their head throbbed with each step. They couldn't keep walking. They had to rest. After they rested they could resume their journey.

Whumpee couldn't believe they had fallen for Whumper's deception. Having such a kind, caring companion had been too good to be true. But Whumpee had to believe that someone would offer them kindness. Had to believe that Whumper was their friend.

And yet their inevitable betrayal still stung. Stung more than when Whumper had hit them in the back of the head with a rock and drove away, leaving them in the desert with now way of getting home. They were stranded, and still the betrayal hurt more than anything else.

They had no more tears to shed. It had been hot, the night air a now welcome relief on their skin. They were thirsty, their body ached, and the pangs of hunger had their stomach twisting in knots.

But they had to rest. Just a bit longer. Then they would get up. They would get up and go after Whumper. Whumper was the unforgiven. And Whumpee was going to exact their vengeance. Once they got out of the desert.

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw betrayal #tw head injury #tw stranded #wollemi whump event #wollemi day 3 #prompt: stranded #queue

[writingquestionsanswered]

Question, but how do you write an immortal character that doesn't understand death and sees it as a betrayal? Like the character is a few hundred years old but was so isolated that they just... Never knew death was a thing I guess?

It's up to you to figure out how to write this character. Only you know who they are, what their experiences are, what their personality is like, etc. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment... how do you think it might feel to not know that death is a thing, and to suddenly learn it is? What might make you feel it is a betrayal rather than being able to understand what's actually happening? What thought process has to occur to keep you from being able to see reality? (Hint: I suspect somewhere in this character's path there was some other betrayal that makes them especially sensitive to betrayal. Something that would make them see death as something similar.)

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & FEEDBACK COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

#tw death #tw betrayal #wqaadvice

[sansxfuckyou]

Compact Confessional

Summary: Mysterion is holding something from the rest of the Freedom Pals. They should respect his privacy, they really should- but they only take it as a challenge.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, privacy breach, betrayal of trust, swearing, feral behavior (in Kite), the authors attempt at humor, heavy guilt, interrogation, it gets worse but then it gets better guys, I promise

Authors Note: hurgh K2, with the additional flavor of kitesterion because I went batshit over the AU to an insane degree. I have no clue when the Ao3 port is dropping. Sorry if some of the colored text, isnt colored. And fair warning, this badboy levels around 10K words, tumblr starts to lag around 7.5K for anyone curious. it is almost 3 AM (do artists ever stay up insanely late to finish big projects and get so sleepy they forget the hotkey for the eraser tool? I wouldn't know, but somewhere along the line I kept trying to write segue way with a Q because I was fucking disoriented) I need to go to sleep right the fuck now

Mysterion is keeping something from the Freedom Pals, he's keeping something from all of them. Maybe if he was willing to talk about it with someone everyone wouldn't find it so intriguing. Maybe then everyone wouldn't want to know what it is that's so fucking important that no one is allowed to know about it.

Super Craig tries to act like it's nothing super big, aware that if everybody paid no mind to it that it might come out faster. Tupperware followed suite with the idea, Wonder Tweek tagging in as well. Other members of their franchise were a lot less… subtle, about their interest in Mysterions secret, whatever it is. The Coon is practically begging him every single day to tell him what it is, Call Girl even joins in. Toolshed is pretty sure the both of them are just making things worse it they want Mysterion to come clean.

Human Kite is the only one that refuses to meddle at all, even Doctor Timothy has tried getting a peek in Mysterions mind. The alien is the only one that sits there and listens to him bitch about how annoying they are. The only one that pauses to look and listen and take in every visual and audible cue because that's what he's known to do since he first landed way back when. It tells him a lot about his teammates if nothing else.

Still.

Mysterion- no, Kenny McCormick is hiding something from his friends. And given the fact that it's barely coming out even when he's in a state of delirium or terribly wounded, it must be something big.

It's starting to piss off Kyle a little bit.

-/-/-/-

"Thanks for letting me hang out for a bit man," Kenny said as he pulled on his orange parka. He opted to leave his bleached cargo shorts and purple everything else in a pile on Kyles bedroom floor. It was easy to do that when the alien offered to wash them, "Chilling with Cartman all the time definitely does not do wonders for ones mental health."

Kyle gives a laugh, the kind that leaves teeth too sharp on full display. "Totally, I swear to fuck that asshole needs therapy," He stills his tail from wagging like he's a little kid, except, when he was a little kid he tied his tail up so it wouldn't be exposed in an all too human world. An extremely uncaring world for anything different then what they know as normalcy.

"He needs so much therapy," Kenny answered with, "See you tomorrow?"

"On our patrol, I'll make sure your suit is washed," Kyle said, throwing an arm to the side, an invitation for a hug. He wouldn't be sad if Kenny didn't take it, but he still can't help the way his heart skips several beats when he gets one. An anchoring tightness enveloping him, squeezing a comfortable amount on his rib cage that would hurt if he was human.

"Thanks Kyle," Kenny said quietly, head propped near Kyles shoulder but not quite tall enough to rest it on top. He pushes himself on his tippy toes to press the top of his head to the bottom of Kyles chin. He takes a dramatic step back and maybe Kyles tail is swaying a little bit with a silky soft comfort residing on his skin. He clasps his hands together, "Tomorrow."

"Yeah man, see you then," Kyle said, the instant he realized his tail was doing the thing he stilled it entirely. He felt a slight singe of cyan embarrassment. Stupid alien anatomy. Giving away how he feels.

Kenny pivots on his heel and gives a wave, "See ya man!" His steps are light and Kyle is watching with maybe a little bit too much intent.

He has zero legal rights to do so, but emotional and psychological rights? He has plenty. The first one being that he might've imprinted on Kenny the second his family landed on earth. He might've latched onto both Mysterion and Kenny like an orphan duckling in his childhood era of existing- so much so that he couldn't help the absolute giddiness when he learned they were the same. Maybe he got a little bit too attached to Kenny compared to everyone else in a human sense. But in an alien sense, in his instinctual sense, he was the perfect amount of attached considering how he thought of Kenny.

The second reason he stared was because Kenny had an undeniably amazing ass. That wasn't just personal opinion either, they held a vote after a particularly odd argument in the Freedom Pals lair. Kenny won by an absolute fucking landslide in the votes and voter fraud having taken place can't be confirmed or denied by anyone.

Except for Doctor Timothy of course.

And if there is a god, Kyle is praying everyday that the human one makes sure that Doctor Timothy doesn't look into the legitimacy of the votes.

Kyle barely drags himself back from his thoughts, he's been told he can get lost in them sometimes. His tail is wagging again, the multicolored diamond-like frills undulate a little bit. He swings the front door shut reluctantly when he can't see Kenny anymore. He tugs off his gloves and tosses them in a pile alongside his hat, letting the splotchy cyan coloration of his skin show. He makes his way up to his bedroom, but he finds his impossibly human little brother standing in his doorway.

"Ike, get out of the way," Kyle said sternly, giving a bit of a growl under his voice. His adoptive brother just quirks a brow in that annoying manner he learned from the humans.

Ike clears his throat, "No."

"Well why not?" Kyle questioned, growl snuffed and replaced with something louder and more resonant, it vibrated in his brothers flesh. It was something that Ike long since lost the ability to be intimidated by.

"When are you gonna stop inviting over your little posse of partners eh?" Ike asked, crossing one arm over the other. His tone was nothing but accusatory, Kyle saw through it.

"Are you jealous?" Came Kyles instant reaction.

"No," Ike responded with far too fast to be true.

"I'll play some video games with you on Thursday," Kyle offered.

Ike moved out of the way, "Enjoy wallowing in your disgusting room bud."

Kyle ignored him with nothing more than an eye roll, he made a point of slamming his door shut. He kicked aside a small heap of whatever, a mix of something or other he'd been intending to clean up. He gently picks up a small stack of comics Kenny had lent him and places them on his desk. Right beside the Mysterion charm. And the Mysterion action figure. And the other pieces of shitty Mysterion merchandise he had bought.

Okay, yeah, maybe he had a little bit too much Mysterion merchandise. He was just trying to put some extra cash into Kenny's pocket for when money is tight around the house. He just wanted to make sure his best friend was living a decent life, it wouldn't be enough to give him the life Kyle knew Kenny deserved, but it would help.

He takes hold of Kennys outfit and empties the contents of the pockets into a small bin. Loose change, granola bar wrappers, pocket knife, lock pick, the usual stuff he carried around for hero duties and then some. Kyle shakes the hood loose of any twigs or leaves and something large enough to clatter as it hits the metal netting of the bin falls out. His pointed ear gives a flick at the noise, he's dropping to the ground and pulling it out in a second.

He's completely enveloped in the mystery of what was hidden in Kennys hood because A: fucking genius hiding spot, and B: this could be what Kenny was hiding. It could be exactly what Kenny was trying so hard to keep under the radar, what he successfully kept hidden from everyone's prying eyes.

He came up with a tape, jet black, scratched plastic and a cracked see through window bit. There are silver markings across the black, seemingly unpredictable and laid out with either sharpie ink or a paint pen. The paper label is coffee stained and reads the date, recorded last month (why it's still on Kennys person is odd). The log number is left blank, presumably stated in the recording.

It was a jackpot and somewhere in the back of Kyles mind he knew he should ignore it. He knew this was shattering every rule in the book and that he'd be shattering his friendship with Kenny, Mysterion and Human Kite would probably stop being a dynamic duo at that.

But, he needed to know.

He absolutely fucking needed to know.

He wouldn't dare speak it too anyone ever, and he'd return it to the hood right afterwards. He wouldn't even tell Kenny that he listened to it, he'd just sleep at night knowing exactly what Kennys secret is. And that would be more than good enough for Kyle, he wouldn't need anything else.

He reaches blindly for his cassette player, the one he's held onto since he was young. One of his earliest earthly possessions, one he still cherished and used every day. He popped out the cassette already inside and gently placed the pilfered audio into it. He eagerly grabs his earbuds before pressing play.

Professor Chaos is pretty fucking sure doing this shit is helping out my mental state or whatever He doesn't know what he's dealing with He doesn't know that he's playing with fire trying to get me to spill my guts on his fancy therapy chair But, here I am, sitting on top of the police station fully decked out in my Mysterion persona just chatting it up with myself again

I already know exactly what the problem here is Chaos, the center of this massive shitfuck that even paid therapy couldn't fix!

I've probably said that a million times in every one of these stupid fucking recordings... shit I forgot to do that log date ha!

Ahem, log three, topic. Whatever comes out of my fucking mouth.

Kyle presses pause hesitantly.

Oh god.

This is an audio diary, just for spilling Kennys guts.

And he's listening to it.

He should stop. He really, truly, should.

But he doesn't.

Instead he presses play.

Where were we? Right, right, just saying whatever shit that comes to my mind . . . I'm pretty sure that Kyle thinks I can't see him stare at me whenever I fucking bend over or walk away I'm not complaining, I'm flattered really But jeez man just say it outright if you think I have a hot ass

The pause button is slammed this time.

Kyles face is burning up because Kenny knew apparently, he knew that Kyle stared at him at every chance he gets. He feels his stomach twist a bit because oh man, he got caught staring and Kenny didn't even mention. The usage of 'you' makes Kyle feel even more called out on the matter.

He could drop out now, maybe that's the secret, that Kenny knows he stares. He could sleep at night saying that's the thing he's keeping hidden.

I can't talk much if you put everything into consideration But still! Human Kite himself staring at my ass . . . That's fucking awesome if I'm being honest I would hope I'm being honest cause who else is gonna listen to the truth aside from this stupid tape

Like, I'm just doing whatever and I can feel it He is staring holes into me, somedays it's like he's hitting me with those fucking laser eyes! That'd be hilarious actually One second I'm loading a dishwasher and the next my ass is on fire because he couldn't help but stare The Coon would be laughing about that till he's dead

So would Toolshed

And Call Girl

And Mosquito

We'd all get a good laugh out of it

Except for Human Kite

I think he would die of embarrassment if he lit my ass on fire It'd be adorable Bright blue face, ears drooping the slightest bit, maybe his tail would do something I don't know He'd probably say sorry a lot All I know is that after I'm done putting out the fire I'd say "it's fine!" And then I'd think about how cute he looks for weeks on end

Fuck he's absolutely amazing in every sense of the word God, I'm supposed to use these to rant about my shitty family Not gush about my partner in heroics . Oh well

He's perfect! I swear on my mothers grave he is everything That grin he gets whenever he's about to blow someone sky high I can see almost all of his fangs when he does it, which are fucking scary by the way But I'll be damned if it isn't a little bit hot to think about He could kill me and I'll love him He could do absolutely anything to me and I'd still want him so fucking much

And!

And, and, and There's this little thing he does whenever he gets happy Where the weird bits on his tail like, shake? They move, his tail also wags But the frills don't move unless he's actually happy He can fake the wag but he can't fake the frills moving

It's so fucking cute and weird and different I love it

Anyways! This is South Parks number one worst superhero coming to you live from the top of the police station!

. . .

Shit I think someone heard me

Kyle is paralyzed as the tape ends, letting every single word soak into his brain. His tail is doing the thing, it's wagging. Every nerve in his body is alight and he feels his stomach twisting into knots. His claws are digging into the plastic of the tape player as he just stares. His eyes end up resting on his desk, his laptop, with all of his external attachments.

There's a rush to his movements as he grabs it and the oddest, most useless, thing he owns. A reverse recorder of sorts, a simple thing he crafted but never thought he'd have a chance to use. He flips open the top and jams the plug into it's socket before sliding the cassette as gently as possible into the gadget. He should not be doing this, he really shouldn't be doing this.

But he can't keep the cassette to keep hold of the audio, he needs too extract it if he ever wants to hear it again. Which is wrong, and bad, and he absolutely needs to stop but he isn't. He's clicking 'extract' and watching that loading bar fill up gratingly slow.

He places down his laptop gently and balls up the fabrics before leaving. There's a twist of wrong in his gut, but he ignores it as he swings open the washing machine door. He knows how fucking wretched this is, that he'll be absolutely ruined if anyone finds out. He won't be able to live down the shame of having anyone catch word that he knows the secret. That he knows what it is that's keeping Kenny wound up so tightly.

He'll just keep his mouth shut.

Real easy.

Real simple.

-/-/-/-

Kyle might be abusing the knowledge he garnered from the tape, maybe a little bit. He might be curling up next Kenny a little bit more than often, hunched under a flowing purple cape like a cougar despite the height difference. Just maybe he's resting his head atop Kenny's a little bit more than usual, purring a little bit louder whenever he comes into contact with Kenny.

He really doesn't care though, maybe there's a twisted sense of catharsis he gets from the knowledge that yes, it's reciprocated, despite doing nothing to change it. Being awkward homies acting like there's nothing going on below the surface is entirely acceptable and everything that he's wanted from Kenny the second his family landed. Definitely. Absolutely. He didn't imprint. He absolutely did not imprint. He killed off that instinct way back in fourth grade.

Right after he met Kenny.

One second too late. And he is one hundred percent sure everyone in his family can see it, even Ike! Except, the little shit will hold it over him if he gets a chance. Taunting and teasing that Kyle imprinted on his best friend instead of literally anyone else. Of course, the asshole knows better what with every member of his family sporting claws made to rend flesh.

"Kyle!"

The Broflovski perks up a bit at his name being called. Stan sits down across from him, sliding his safety glasses off as he does so.

"You good man?" Stan asked, Kyle nodded.

"I'm great, amazing even," Kyle said, he gestured vaguely as he spoke.

Stan stayed silent for a moment.

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh, "I think I fucked up the first day I landed."

"That was years ago, and just now it's affecting you?" Stan asked. He kicked up his feet to rest on the table.

"Yeah, and Kenny's sort of being an ass. He can trust us, he can trust us more than anyone else in this fucking town!" There's an exasperated exhale as he comes down from the near shout, "How come he's not telling us?"

Stan shrugged, "That's his business, if he doesn't want to tell us, just respect that."

"But-"

"Respect it," Stan pressed, "He might fess up to you first if you just give him time."

"I doubt it," Kyle muttered, barely loud enough for Stan to hear. His tail is snaking around his waist tightly. Tight enough he can feel it sting just a bit.

"Dude. Firstly, calm down," Stan said, Kyle glared at him. The ravenette simply gestured to the prehensile appendage squeezing the air from Kyle's lungs. He drops it, "Secondly, you're his best friend. If he's telling anyone it'll be you."

Kyle gave a hesitant nod, "Yeah, that makes sense."

Stan gave him a grin, comforting, grounding. He dropped down his feet and leaned over the table, holding out a hand. Kyle placed his atop Stan's, his hand was larger. Cyan tinted fingertips tapping along an open palm, "It's fine man, he'll tell us soon enough. It's not like he can keep a secret forever."

"No, you're right man. He can't keep a secret from us forever," Kyle said, a small grin on his face as Stan tightened his grip.

"Now stop stressing so much," Stan said, "Go get some calamari or whatever."

-/-/-/-

Kyle finds the next tape in a vent on top of Unplanned Parenthood while he's on a mission. He's quick to slide it into his pocket before Mysterion can notice. He can't just, jeopardize this discovery, he isn't even sure if he can call it a discovery if he's sure of what it is.

A shoulder collides with him and he stumbles just a bit. His arms are quick to push Mysterion right back up again. There's a crack down his lips and he looks to Kyle, "Get your head in the game, Kite!"

A blast of something or other comes straight at them and there's a brief second of hesitation before Mysterion is tossed out of the way and Kyle is ducking. The blonde is easily caught again and placed down, "Gladly," He takes Mysterion's hand, "Show me how?"

There's a smirk, bone chilling to many but it only makes Kyle's stomach flutter. Mysterion tightens his grip briefly, "Let's go then."

He's quick to launch Kyle forward with a running start, the alien tackling down whichever thug is on them now. Claws detract and tear through silver hued gloves as he snarls, easily dwarfing the goon. They're shaking as Kyle bares his fangs, tail thrashing about and body hunched in a predatory stance. Is he snarling? He is, he's proud of it too as he brings himself to be face to face.

He rears back on his knees, clawed hand raised and ready to slash. He goes to tear open their throat, but a grasp at the back of his collar prevents him. It short circuits him a little bit as the fabric of gloves press against cool skin.

"My friend here isn't exactly human," Mysterion said calmly as he released Kyle's costume. He stayed still and glanced up to Mysterion.

There's a shaky nod from the thug.

"Now, you have two options," Mysterion said. His tongue briefly slid between lips to capture the blood seeping from the crack. He circled around the dropped person a bit more, "Number one, you leave. You run to Canada, and never bother us again."

No response.

"Number two, Human Kite kills you. Right here," Mysterion snaps his fingers and as practiced Kyle gnashes his fangs with a growl, "Right now."

"I'll run! I'll leave!" The convict practically screamed.

"Fine, Kite?" Mysterion said. Claws come down atop the goons eye, deep enough to scar and maybe to go blind in one eye. Kyle stands up, red contrasting the cyan of his fingertips, he watches them run and revels in it.

Once they're far off, darting down staircases and running through the streets, does Mysterion take a seat. He drops down on the roof and Kyle takes a seat beside him, frilled tail wrapping around Mysterion's waist. A hand comes to push back the hood and he leans his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude, being a hero is so sucky," Kenny said with a light laugh, "I just wanna get killed sometimes."

Kyle gives a hum.

"I just come back anyways, but we seriously haven't faced anyone actually dangerous in years," Kenny said, gesturing vaguely as he spoke to drive in the point.

"Definitely," Kyle said, Kenny dropped down onto his back. Kyle leans back to meet him in eye contact.

"I miss when this shit was fun," Kenny said, a sigh on his voice as he spoke.

"I think that most of us do," Kyle answered with. His tongue, forked, flickered out for a brief second.

"You're just like a snake man," Kenny said.

Cyan rose to Kyle's face, "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Like, your tongue. It looks like a snakes, forked," Kenny said, he did the spock thing with his hands as if to display forked. He stuck out his tongue at the same time, "It's really fucking cool. You got some scales right? And those weird little ridges on your back? All of those are snake-y things, Kyle."

"Yeah, cause I'm a freakish little dude," Kyle said extravagantly, as if to make his point he gave a set jazz hands, gloves off to expose to smallest bit of cyan webbing. He sticks out his tongue between too sharp teeth, "Absolutely monstrous."

"I'd hardly say 'little' is the word for you, ya six foot monster," Kenny taunted back, "And I love ya for that man."

Kyle barely beats down the intensifying flush on his face, "Well, won't stop me from being at least a little bit snake like. It's more fun to be a weird creature than a human anyways," He drops down and nudges Kenny's shoulder with his head until he sits up and nudges off the silvery cape. A hand rests in a tangle of red curls for a brief moment before the alien curls around Kenny's back.

"You're also very... Cat. Very feline. Very not human," Kenny said, words teasing but loving nonetheless.

He rested his hand on top of Kyle's head, gently sifting through a sea of red. He leaned back on his friends torso a little bit as he brought a second hand to run through Kyle's hair. He shifted around a bit to rest almost on his knees, facing Kyle just a bit more. His side pressed to Kyle's lower rib cage, his hands didn't leave the redheads hair for a second. He slid down his friends face just a bit, callused thumbs briefly brushing over the ever sensitive auricle fins he had. Were they fins? Not quite, just cyan flares at the base of pointed ears.

He let his fingers scritch just past the back of Kyle's ears, resting atop the buzzed patch of hair. Olive green eyes fluttered shut as Kenny just rubbed right there, the sweet spot. He slumps into Kenny's hands, chin resting at the heel of his palm (he can't see the gentle smile on Kenny's face).

The blonde nearly explodes when Kyle starts to purr. It starts soft, but it slowly grows, shaking Kenny down to his core with his side pressed against Kyle's diaphragm. Or his lungs. Or his whatever it is that makes that wonderful rumbling sound giving Kenny enough serotonin to live forever. He already will, but this is making that eternity sound a lot more bearable. Then he hears a thudding- three, soft thumps before it resets and happens again. His tail is wagging, Kyle really likes being scratched behind the ears apparently.

Kenny's pretty sure he's falling asleep with the pads of his finger, despite being rough and scratchy, gently rubbing behind his ears. He lifts his fingers for a second too long and Kyle opens up his eyes, "Why'd you stop?" He sounds groggy and disappointed, he stops purring.

Kenny picks up the motions, "You were falling asleep," He tosses his cape over Kyle's form.

Kyle lazily blinks, one eye, then the other. He shrugs the best he can, "And?"

"Good point," Kenny said on a hum as he twirls a finger through curls, a light tug.

Kyle's tail starts to thud again and he's sure the afterglow of this will never fade.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's feeling a little bit guilty about tuning into this tape.

Not nearly enough to make him stop though.

He drops down on his bed comfortably, he doesn't even bother to put in his earbuds. His parents are out for the weekend, his brother is at Kenny's to hang out with Karen, presumably fishing. He knows that he's bound to get a call from Ike sometime in the night for a ride, for Ike, Karen, and maybe even Kenny if it's really rough. But, he'll have enough time to listen to the entirety of it.

He presses play.

I think shits getting worse I'm not using these things properly I should be using these for literally anything else! I could talk about how much I worry about my sister, or my money problems, or whatever!

But I'm still using these tapes for just a few little things

Mostly talking about Kite Not gonna use his actual name this time cause someone heard me last week I'm pretty sure I ran them out of town For good

Do I feel bad about that?

Absolutely not

Gotta protect a mans privacy, even if that means blood and intimidation Which uh, I swear it didn't involve blood This time at least

Now, log number... nine? I'm pretty sure this is number nine I would go back and check 'em all out again, but I lost one of them No clue where the little fucker went But it's gone

Kyle pauses the tape. There's missing ones- he needs to find it before Kenny does. He can just put it back later, like he'll do with this one after he's done thoroughly listening to it. He put back the last one, slid it back into the hidden pocket and acted like it never happened.

Of course, since then he's always checked the hidden pocket whenever he got a chance to do so. But, he's been unlucky in terms of finding any up until this one which leaves him with the idea that the rest have been planted around town. He shuts off his rampant train of thought- he is not going to try and sleuth out all of the tapes. He still has some respect for Kenny's privacy, he still has some intention to keep their friendship intact, and most importantly, he still has full intention of never acting on any of what he hears in said tapes.

That would give away that he's been listening to them, a risk he can't take. He clicks the button again.

Look, I always knew Kite was a weird one Everyone does The guys alien, so we cut him some slack on human things that go mostly unspoken

Conversational subtext, call frequency, having beer on ice- simple shit

And in turn, we also try to learn a bit about his species culture I don't even know if species is the right word Does that make me racist? Are aliens even a race to be racist against? Could I even discriminate if only... Three, exist on earth?

So many questions, so little time

Of course, there isn't exactly a lot about his kind I doubt there's a lot of his kind His mom keeps making quips about how all of them would come to earth if it was easier to integrate But honestly? If you just got rid of the alien extremities I would not be able to tell that Kite isn't human

Same with his parents The lot of them blend in perfectly Don't know why she stresses so much And even if they didn't, they have a human to vouch for them A bunch of humans actually

There's a brief pause where Kyle let's himself think about that for a moment. He's never had a chance to think about it before. He doesn't really dwell on it for longer than a minute, flipping himself onto his stomach. His tail lazily sways back and forth as he listens/

I think I got off point there

Allow me to relocate and get back to what I was supposed to be talking about

. . .

There is a fucking line, Kite! You stay on your side of the line! You can't just walk over to my side! Just waltz on over like you own the fucking place! And just, act like it's no big deal! You just sit down right next to me. Like. Right next to me, are thighs are fucking pressed against each other and you lean into me! You just, push your head up against my shoulder like a fucking cat until I give you attention

Which I always do I'm weak

And then you start purring, and your tail does a dumb little wag! And I'm sitting there, begging and pleading, that I don't do something dumb You're putty in my fucking hands Asking me to just shower you in attention! I do, I always do- I always sit there and give you attention

Whatever it is you want I'd give it to you I'd do it for you Anything, for you

The voice softens just a bit, lowering itself. He sounded so very, very mad. Not even mad, just agitated. His voice is heady, wrapped into the narrative he's spinning so accurately. Kyle feels his stomach flip at the words droning so deeply into his skull. The notions made his skin tingle, heart pulsating so very fast he wouldn't be shocked if it exploded all at once.

But no! I stay on my side of the line Like a good boy

Because I don't wanna freak him out Or scare him off

I feel like such a fucking perv And I am a bit pervy I am fully aware of the fact that I am known to stare if someone fine is walking by

But.

To stare at Kite? To want Kite?

It definitely caught me off guard

And he isn't human He doesn't get it I touch him I feel like I'm dirtying him Even if it's just a high five! I have too much on mind for this shit

I see that idiot and you know what I wanna to do?

Do you even wanna to know what I want do to him?

Kyle slams the pause button, he can feel his nerves shoot up in shock. His tail has went from lazily thumping back and forth to wagging like that of a dogs. The minute ridges on his back are shaking, just a bit. He may be mildly cold-blooded, but right now he really can't tell.

He looks down at his hands and they're entirely cyan, normally just a little bit at the tips. The hue shoots up his forearms. He can practically hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest, the sound bangs back and forth in his skull.

Oh.

Oh he's opened up a massive can of worms with this tape.

He keeps listening

I'd just

.

I would-

.

Fuck man I can't even say it out loud I don't know what I was thinking!

I'm sitting on top of city hall and I was about to go off about how I'd fuck him!

Could I even fuck him? Are the species compatible? Do aliens even have reproductive organs?

They must They totally do How else do they, how do they reproduce? Eggs?

. . . Nasty

But I would fucking worship him I would do whatever he asked me too Even if he's too unversed in human reproduction to ask me too fuck him up I'd still do what he asks me too

You wanna go out at that new pizza place that charges by the minute? Let's go darling

You wanna go check out the newest arcade cabinet? Baby, the cars already running

You want me to get your logo as a tramp stamp? I might not do that one actually . That's a lie I'd do anything for him

. . .

God, I'm such a mess I need real therapy

Kyle has long since buried his face in a pillow to muffle his screams (although they're closer to high pitched squeals) and cover his ears. He feels like he's running a fever, a really, really bad fever. Every square inch of his body is on fire and he can't care much that he's clawing into his pillow, downy soft feathers spilling from gouges.

He's drawing a blank.

A complete and utter blank.

He hears the click signalling it's over and he feels his stomach twist in regret.

It's a lot easier to hide that you know something if said something isn't... that, whole thing that just happened. His ears are ringing a little bit as the words ping around the sides of his head, like a game of Pong. The pillow is still keeping his face covered as he rolls onto his back, then his side, then his front, and his side again, knees pressed flush against the wall. Fuck, he feels like he's sixteen all over again, and that was just three years ago! He's too young to be having moments like this.

He mechanizes his breathing, eyes wide open as he stares at the darkness of the space themed pillow case in front of him. Sheer darkness with the occasional blip of a lighter hue. His tail is still thrashing, whipping back and forth madly, he's sure it would scuff the wall if it hit it.

He has to come down from his safe space eventually. Even if that safe space is merely a pillow pressed to his face.

He tosses aside the pillow and rolls onto his back and just stares at the ceiling.

His entire existence has officially been flipped on it's head.

He hears his cell phone ring and he reaches for it, answering before even checking whose calling. He gives a cracked, "Hello?"

"Dude are you good? You sound like you've just been crying," Came Kenny's voice, concern laid on thick.

Kyle nearly hangs upon the spot but instead he bites his tongue and doesn't say a word.

"Look man, dads being a bit of an ass, and Ike was wondering if you could come pick him up for the umpteenth time," Kenny said. He gave a hum, "Could Karen tag along?"

"Totally man," Kyle answered with as he sat up, trying so hard to still his tail. It swiped back and forth atop the blankets, he felt a little bit wrong about not telling Kenny what he knew right now. But, this is a bad time to do that, any Kyle can lie his way out of it again. He hesitates before adding, "You need an escape too?"

"It'd be nice, but you already sound tired. Did I catch you at a bad time? Were you perhaps 'jacking it', my fine, alien friend?" Kenny asked tauntingly, his smugness was palatable.

Kyle wished he could just say 'yeah' and move on instead of carefully think over his next words. Life would much simpler if his head didn't catch on the usage of 'fine' in referral to himself. His mouth felt dry but he choked out some words anyways. "Dude, what makes you think I even have a dick? I got that weird ass alien biology, don't I?""

There's a laugh on the other side, "Hey man, not all of my shots are gonna be spot on. But really, if you don't want me over I won't come," There's an tenderness to his voice and the contrast to the almost gritty and desperate tone he had on the tape gives Kyle whiplash.

"You can if you want too, but I'll probably pass out pretty fast," Kyle lied. He'd just lay in bed, wide awake, for potentially hours with Kenny on the floor beside him. That's how it usually went at least.

"Going full on feral like you did earlier takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?" Kenny asked.

Silence.

"Silent treatment, did I strike a nerve bud? Regardless, we'll be out front in ten," Kenny said, "I can make you some hot coco if you'd like."

"That'd be nice," Was Kyle's weak response.

-/-/-/-

The night was a lot more tense than either of them wanted it to be.

They usually shared a hug before actually getting into bed and trying to pass out. And if not that then Kyle would subtly demand some time to just, co-exist, in very close proximity to each other. In even more minimal situations, they would just share some words of 'love you bro' and call it a night.

None of that transpired.

"I can just go home man," Kenny offered at the break of two AM.

Kyle rolled over to the edge of his bed, leaning over it just a bit, "It's fine."

"Is something wrong? Cause like, you've just been acting... off, lately," Kenny said gently as he propped himself on his elbows, both resting on his pillow.

"Nothings wrong," Kyle said, he crossed his arms and rested his chin on them, "I am gonna ask my parents some questions when they get back."

"About what?" Kenny asked quietly, as though he were afraid of shattering the night if he spoke too loud. The navy walls cast deep blue across the room, reflecting the moonlight in a comfortable darkness.

Kyle stayed silent.

"Alien stuff?" Kenny asked.

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, alien stuff."

"Fun," Kenny answered with a scoff. He dropped back down again and turned to face Kyle, Kyle's bed frame at least, "But for real, you're just- somethings going on in your head. I can tell."

Kyle shrugged, "It's stupid."

"I won't judge man, you're my best friend," Kenny said. And he said it in such a way that for a brief second Kyle forgot about the tapes entirely.

"How are you supposed to talk to someone about something you don't want too?" Kyle asked, trying to withhold and give equal amounts of information.

Kenny paused, "Work out the words in your head. Practice once or twice, maybe even record it. Figure out what needs to be reworked. Write it out if you must- just get it out of your head."

Kyle nodded.

"Trust me man, the second it's out of your head and off your shoulders, life will be easier," Kenny explained reassuringly, "Even if it's only for a second or two."

"Thanks bro," Kyle said quietly.

"Least I can do," Kenny said.

There's a beat of hesitance, "Love you man."

"Love you too," And then Kenny turns away from him, tugging the blanket up to his shoulders.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's pretty sure that Kenny is onto him at this rate, but, he tries to ignore the terrible slithering sensation that he's been caught.

He just focuses on whatever comes next.

This time it's none other than The Coon himself deciding he needs to bring something up with Kyle. Silence drenches the room in the worst way possible as he sits across from the hybrid. Furred ears are swiveled to face Kyle and it makes him feel impossibly nervous, he knows that Cartman can hear his heartbeat. Can it hear pick up speed when Stan sits down beside him, even more so when Wendy joins.

And then Clyde, Timothy, Jimmy- all on one side of Cartman.

Tweek and Craig sit down on the side with Wendy and Stan, Scott as well.

"We know you figured it out, Kyle," Cartman said calmly, tone frigid in a way that makes Kyle feel paralyzed. The hybrid clasps his hands together in front of himself on the table.

"Figured what out?" Kyle snaps back with, trying his hardest to muster the usual snarkiness he has around Cartman. Bute he fails, miserably at that. He just sounds pathetic, grasping at straws if nothing else.

"Don't play dumb," Wendy said, she sounded sharp. She may be tough as nails, and normally Kyle respects that, admires it even, but when it's directed towards him? He gets why people run from Call Girl.

"Why in the cosmos should I tell the likes of you?" Kyle answered with, feebly trying to defend Kenny's privacy.

A privacy that he had already thoroughly breached and ravaged, alongside the unspoken trust they had. He had wrecked it, ruined it, destroyed it- but he could salvage it from the fact Kenny didn't know that Kyle knew.

"You can trust us, Kyle. We're your best friends," Clyde said. And he was right, he was so right.

Kyle's tail snaked itself around the chair leg, "Really guys, I don't know what you're talking about-"

"His secret, Kyle," Cartman said, "Tell us."

"I," He hesitated, "I can't."

"You've already fucked up your relationship with him enough, Kyle. I got Wendy to do a deep dive on your species, and of the few things she could find, she discovered this," Cartman said. He raised a folder, an awful beige and orange hue, and slid it over to Kyle.

The alien hesitantly took it. It was three pages thick, presumably doubled sided. He opened it and skimmed through the headings, he knew every single trait in and out. He paused at the highlighted one, "You're joking."

"This is serious man," Stan said, "We wouldn't just accuse you of imprinting of Kenny without any basis."

"That's stupid. He's my best friend. That's all, that's our dynamic- the kind of dynamic that rakes in loads of cash," Kyle defended with, hoping that pressing on Cartman's one pressure point would make him let up. He slammed the folder shut and slid it back, "Even if I did imprint on him, it would ruin the franchise and never be reciprocated."

"Then tell us what the secret is, you have nothing to lose, no? Just a friend, they come and go on earth," Cartman said. He was calling Kyle's bluff, did he even realize it? He probably did, or if he didn't, he'd snoop until he did.

"Ask Professor Chaos instead, he knows more," Kyle said, trying so, so hard to deflect. The tension pooling everywhere under his skin was agonizing. He needed an out so bad, he needed an escape so, so fucking bad.

Cartman scoffs, "Already done, he said he was sworn to some oath of secrecy, sent us to you."

Kyle stays silent, forcing eye contact with the sleaze in front of the him. The trash eater himself, scraping tactics from the bottom of the barrel.

"Just tell us, no harm will come from it," Cartman said sternly.

"It'll destroy my friendship with Kenny," Kyle snarled out.

"No new harm will come from it, we all know the damage has been done my friend, it's just yet to be discovered," Cartman said, words cutting into Kyle like a knife.

He bites his tongue, Cartman's right, "Give me a week to collect more information on the subject, then I'll report back with the news."

There's a smug and satisfied grin on Cartman's face as he leans back, "See? That wasn't so hard, was now?"

Kyle stands up and pushes away from the table, "I'm going."

"Don't forget about your patrol with Mysterion tomorrow evening, Kite!" Cartman calls out, head leaned back on his chairs backrest.

Kyle's tail is swaying angrily, "Fuck off."

His fangs are grinding against each other as he storms off, if it weren't for the fact he was in suit he would punt the closest chihuahua like a football. Or do something else just as dumb. Maybe kick a fire hydrant and hope it doesn't dent, or punch a tree. Something to make the tense feeling uncoil, to let himself just relax for one second.

He doesn't deserve that though.

He's been uprooting the very foundations of his friendship with Kenny, all because of some morbid curiosity. And Kenny doesn't even fucking know. Kyle is just getting away with it cause he's being awfully slick with how careful he is to put everything back exactly where he found it.

The worst part is how long it's taken for him to feel genuine guilt about it if nothing else. He's such a fucking snake, biting onto his relationship with Kenny and refusing to let go. Sinking fangs deeper and deeper, searching for more even though it's cannibalizing itself. And the first taste is all that it takes to get someone hooked, shame that the thing he got a taste of was metaphorical guts. Kenny just hasn't realized he's stuck in this ouroboros of a relationship.

Despite that, a really twisted and messed up part of him persists in wondering when he'll find the next tape.

-/-/-/-

He finds the next tape almost a week after the interrogation.

Although, we're using the term 'find' rather loosely here. Instead it sort of, fell directly into his lap. And despite knowing better and not wanting to go any further, he still held onto it and didn't let go.

"Thanks for washing my gear man," Kenny said as he stood at the door, Kyle held the bundle of purple fabrics in hand.

He gave a smile, as convincing as he could manage, "No problem man, least I can do."

"See ya tomorrow bro," Kenny said before pivoting on a heel to leave which struck Kyle as odd. The blonde usually loitered for a little bit, chatted casually about whatevers on his head. But none of that came today.

Still, Kyle closed the door and walked down to the luandry room before shaking out the purple. There was that clatter, plastic against unfinished flooring, it was just concrete at the moment. He tossed in the clothing and flipped on the spin cycle with a bit of lavender scented soap. He slid down the front of the washing machine and stared at the tape.

He shouldn't.

He really shouldn't.

He does.

He grips the tape and slams it into the player and hits the play button before he can further question his actions.

I know you're hearing this, Kyle I don't know how long you've been listening to my diary for But it's you It has to be you

Kyle swears his heart stops dead in its tracks. He barely registers that the grit Kenny forces when he's acting out Mysterion has disappeared. That this is just Kenny now.

Who else would be messing with my tapes They're never just right when you put them back You leave scuff marks on the plastic I can fingerprint things, Kyle

I planted this one And log number twelve The rest though? I don't know how many of those you've heard

I'll admit I never meant for number three to fall into your hands I just thought you'd be kind enough to not listen in

. . . How wrong I was

And it's a real shame too You better not have told the rest of the team, Kyle I will make you regret every single breath you've taken if you have

But, that's only if I can get that intel from the gang Do be warned that Cartman is very easy to persuade It won't take me much longer than ten minutes to make him crack

The rest will go even faster Although, I'd give Wendy much longer Craig? He'll be shattering in seven minutes, tops Tweek? Three, maybe four Stan? He trusts me more than you'd expect, he won't even fight

I hope I was right about you being smart, Kyle

Kyle's blood turns to ice.

He is so fucked.

At least he didn't tell Cartman.

You already know my big secret And you have two options, Kyle

Option one: Meet me at Starks Pond tonight to confirm how you feel about the contents of these logs. I'm probably sitting there right now

Option two: Don't. This horrible relationship limbo can remain just like this, on my end I've been stuck here for years

Look, Kyle, what you've done here You're forcing my hand I don't have any other options

Do what you want

I clearly can't stop you

The tape is flung from the cassette player to the other side of the room, it hits the wall and cracks. A thousand regrets pool in the pit of Kyle's stomach and he wants to vomit. He also wants to curl up in a ball and die. Or live in Cartman's basement instead, those are all good options.

But in the same breath...

He's being given a choice when he was sure this whole thing he had with Kenny would simply implode, collapse in on itself and die. He has one chance to make this better than it is. He'll never be able to make this right, but, he can at least try and reinforce the breaking pieces before it's entirely broken.

He picks himself up off the ground and starts on his way up the stairs. He freezes at the door, is he gonna do this? Is he gonna go out to Starks Pond and talk like he should've far too long ago?

Yeah, yeah he fucking is.

The real question is if he's actually gonna say whats been fueling his co-dependency with Kenny for so long.

He isn't sure if he'll manage to fess up to the stupidest biological function he has. He'll try, he'll make an attempt to explain exactly what's been conspiring inside of his head without him even realizing for so many years. He'll at the very least get out a couple words to explain the dumbest thing he's been roped into by his own genetics and unfortunate timing.

-/-/-/-

The ever-present snow and ice crunches under Kyle's boots, but that's the last thing he's focusing on. His eyes are trained ahead of hi as he walks along the edge of Starks Pond. His tail is still, a very rare occurrence.

When he reaches the edge of the pond that Kenny's standing at he's lost his words. The blonde is just staring at him, looking for tells. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his orange jacket, bright orange, pumpkin orange. Kyle can't focus on anything.

"It worked, you nosy little shit," Kenny said, words weaponized with ease.

"Yeah, it worked," Kyle said. He took a step closer, "I'm sorry," and then another, "For everything really," A third step and Kenny tenses, flinching back just a bit. In turn Kyle steps back.

"For what? Did you tell them?" Kenny asked defensively. He sounded scared more than anything else.

"I know better than that Kenny, they did interrogate me though," Kyle explained stiffly.

Kenny gives a hum, "That gets that problem out of the way."

Kyle nods, "Yeah, that it does."

"So, you listened to three, nine, twelve, and seven, right?" Kenny asked.

"Sorry," Kyle said.

"At least have the decency to dignify me with an answer man, you just fucking ruined me. I had to record that final tape five times before it was good enough to use. I swear to god, normally I'd cut you some slack and now you know why, but not this time," Kenny spat sharply, "So, you listened to those tapes, right?"

"Yep, the four that you listed," Kyle said, his attempt to stay professional just made him sound stiff and disjointed.

This time Kenny faltered before speaking, "And your opinions on them?"

"Positive," Kyle answered with faster than a bullet. His tail flicked as he spoke.

"Anything else?" Kenny asked, desperation heavy on his voice. Thick like molasses.

"I think I imprinted on you- which means something different then it does for the ducks!" Kyle was quick to backtrack on his words, Kenny just looked intrigued, "My species has a 'thats the one' instinct. If we find the right person, it activates, and according to my parents at least, it's usually subliminal. When we landed, I imprinted on you- so, to me, you're the one. And for all I know, unless you die and stay dead, that stupid ass hormonal flux won't go down."

Kenny stayed silent.

"I'm stuck fixating on you until one of us dies, my kind mates for life, and unless I submit myself to experimental science the animal part of my brain is gonna keep screaming that you're mine. Which is kind of annoying, and dumb, and gets in the way- and I didn't even realize it until I found that first tape. I've just been infatuated with you since grade four and I don't know how to make it stop," Kyle spilled, some words meshing together in a blend of syllables. Cyan progressively rose to his face the entire time he spoke. He dropped down to the ground, facing away from Kenny and towards the water, "I'm so fucking sorry Kenny."

Kenny took a few tentative steps closer to where Kyle sat, his tail lay curled around him yet limp on the ground. His ears were drooping a bit and he looked ashamed of himself, a little bit distraught at that. "I'm not gonna disown you, Kyle. That'd just be fucking stupid."

"I didn't mean to ruin your life man, you could've been scoring. God, I probably scared off so many people without even realizing it," Kyle choked out weakly. He pressed his nails into the heel of his palm, "I swear I didn't mean to imprint on you. I swear man- I can try and suppress it."

"It's fine, Kyle," Kenny said as he crouched down beside Kyle. He bumped their shoulders together.

No response.

Okay, that was worrying. It struck a particular chord in the depths of Kenny's chest. One very, very similar to the 'my sister is hurt' chord, which unlocks a specific subset of reactions. Those reactions include:

A: Unbridled violence on whoever caused this B: Giving tried and true advice C: Terrible jokes and playful punches D: Just listening with or without a glass of warm milk

None of those options seem optimal, so Kenny improvises.

"I mean, the whole 'imprint' thing doesn't bother me," Kenny said as he sat down behind Kyle. His knees were bent and he rested his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude I fucking ruined your life," Kyle got out quietly, his tail snapped to punctuate his sentence. It wrapped itself around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Beg to differ," Kenny said as he slowly raised his hands up. He gently placed them at the base of Kyle's skull, he tensed but didn't move. Kenny slowly rubbed circles in just behind Kyle's ears in the hopes it would calm him down.

Kyle leaned back into Kenny a bit, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Half of those tapes were me going off about how much I adore you and want you, Kyle. I know you have a brain in there, put it to some use," Kenny said, a small grin on his face as he spoke. He could feel Kyle start to purr, "Just think about it."

Kyle paused for a moment, to just let all of the data sink in. He felt like a total idiot when the conclusion formed in his head, "Oh."

"Yeah," Kenny answered with, "Good thing."

"I'm such a fucking idiot," Kyle said with a laugh on his voice. He squeezed a bit tighter around Kenny's leg, constricting, like a snake, "Can't wait to confirm my families suspicions."

"Do they think we're a thing?" Kenny asked as he combed his fingers through Kyle's hair.

Kyle nodded, "Probably, apparently I've been signalling some very, very vulgar and subtle things to you with my tail for the past six years. I didn't even notice my tail was moving half the time, but it was- mom and dad had to explain that to me which was fun."

"Did you stop?" Kenny asked.

"Naw, definitely not," Kyle answered with smugly, "You never knew anyways."

Kenny gives a hum, "I would say I was giving some vulgar signs myself, but humans don't have a good way to do that discretely."

"I've noticed," Kyle said, "I can read half of you like books with all the tells each of you have."

"Guess Ill have to be even more mysterious so the guys don't catch on," Kenny said as Kyle started to purr, the vibrations rapidly picking up in volume. It felt nice.

"They aren't idiots dude," Kyle said, "They'll catch on soon enough."

"Or we could just walk in there holding hands one day, wait for someone to point it out and go 'yeah we're dating now' and just act like nothing has changed," Kenny said, "Even if we don't go to the movies or eat out at restaurants- that'd be funny."

"We'll see what happens first," Kyle answered with. He holds his breath for a beat, "Love you, Kenny," There's a veritable depth to the words now.

"Love you, Kyle," Kenny answered with the same as he always has, Kyle just never noticed the subtext. He presses a brief kiss to Kyle's forehead.

-/-/-/-

Stan is the first one too notice that Kyle and Kenny are different. A good different though. They're more synced up on the field, better at silent communication, just predicting each other in general. It definitely benefits the team as a whole for the crime-fighting, but whether or not the development is good for the franchise is a whole other story.

He's the first one to ask around about it too.

"Hey Wendy, Kyle and Kenny-"

"Are acting off? I noticed," Wendy said, cutting Stan short with ease. She glanced up from her phone, "I'm already scouring about for details."

"Anything actually come up?" Stan asked.

Wendy shook her head, "Nope, you'd assume that there'd be something; but most searches are coming up dry."

"Worth a shot," Stan said with a sigh.

"You should go ask Craig, he's pretty close to Kenny," Wendy offered up and before she could finish her sentence Stan was looking for Craig.

He was sitting at his desk as usual, cruddy costume and all.

"Craig whats up with Kyle and Kenny?" Stan asked.

And without skipping a beat Craig answered with, "They're homosexuals, Stan."

"What?" Came Stan's dead response, words hollow and in disbelief.

Craig nodded to the aforementioned duo walking in, "Go ask why they're holding hands."

Stan faltered.

"Listen, if you're afraid I'm right you should've asked out Kyle sooner to avoid it," Craig blatantly accused, the words forced the air from Stan's lungs like a sucker punch.

Now aware that Craig is going to keep mentally gut punching him, Stan just heads on off to Kyle and Kenny. They are indeed holding hands, and Kyle's tail is wrapped around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Look, you two," Stan began with.

"Yeah man, what's up?" Kyle asked, and he's hiding a grin poorly. He's sure that it adds to the confusion Stan is displaying.

Kenny was right.

This is pretty fucking funny.

"How come you guys are holding hands?" Stan asked quietly.

"Kyle imprinted on me," Kenny said bluntly, "We're dating now."

"How long has this been going on for?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged, "A month, we were waiting for you guys to notice."

Craig gives a smug, "Told you so!" from his desk.

"Were you guys betting on what was happening?" Kenny asked, an undertone of a snicker to his voice.

"No, even if we did Craig would've won," Stan said spitefully.

Kyle grins a bit, "No need to be sour man, you can still break the news to Cartman, I'm sure it'll be hysterical to see his reaction."

"Dude. Let's go find Cartman," Kenny said eagerly, he was practically vibrating where he stood. Hes grinning that gap tooth grin, "I need to see his reaction right now."

"Wanna tag along?" Kyle asked, holding out a hand to Stan.

He refrained from taking it, "Totally man."

Craig sidles up beside the three of them, "I got a camera to record it."

#south park #south park k2 #sp k2 #south park fanfiction #south park fic #kysterion #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw mild gore #tw swearing #tw betrayal #as you all know i was once again staring at artwork by kennysdeadbody. as i usually do writing K2. specifically those kitenny doodles. #kite is really just a creature. big ol' cat. he purrs. #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #small headcanon that craigs gaydar is off the motherfucking shits (also wanted to let him say faggot(I didnt))

[raineandsky]

#62

tw: implied torture / abuse, betrayal

When the hero opens her door, the last person she expected to see there was the villain, scrunched up on her front porch like they’re hiding from the rain.

“I’m sorry,” they say, their voice taut with exhausted fear. “I had nowhere else to go.”

The hero lets them in, because heroism hasn’t made her a monster just yet. She lets them flop on her sofa, lets them clean up in her bathroom, lets them borrow some spare clothes from her wardrobe. In return, they let her help them.

The villain’s really torn up; both physically and mentally. They don’t talk about it. A week passes, and they graduate from the sofa to sharing the hero’s bed. She doesn’t mind—there’s plenty of room for the two of them. The villain doesn’t seem to realise this in their sleep, and spends an awful lot of time in her space at night. 

The hero’s seen the scars littering their skin, fresh from some war they won’t discuss. She doesn’t mention it, but she takes extra care with them on the rare occasion the villain lets her help them bathe. She can see their relief at the kindness she shows them, despite the fact she keeps reminding them that it isn’t.

The villain cooks, sometimes. They’re not great at it, but they say it’s payment for her kindness. She says it’s not a kindness, but that doesn’t stop them from taking over her kitchen every so often.

A month passes. The villain’s almost back on their feet. The scars start to heal, the tension loosens its grip from their muscles. They smile, for the first time, when they present her with a slightly burnt pot of rice. A little embarrassed, but a smile all the same. “Burnt by kindness,” they tell her.

50 days pass. The hero’s been counting. The villain disappears off to bed soon after dinner. The hero had insisted on cooking it, to celebrate their recovery. “I’m glad you’re better,” she’d said brightly. “Let me help you one last time before you inevitably try to leave.”

The villain goes to sleep on their side of the bed, mostly, and wakes up in a dingy concrete room. Windowless, shut off from the outside world, and flaunting a terrifying array of powertools on the opposite wall.

They’re still groggy, their head swimming, as they try to figure out where they are and how they ended up here. They’re upright, sitting in a spindly wooden dining chair. They feel the burn of raggedy rope cutting into their wrists before they see it, the arms of the seat forced flush against their own.

There’s a dull clunk of footsteps against stairs behind them. “Ah, you’re awake,” the hero says brightly. “I was worried I’d gone a little heavy with the drugs.”

The villain’s mind is still playing catch up. This situation surely isn’t what it seems to be. “Wh– drugs? What’d you mean?”

The hero shrugs as she finally wanders into their line of sight, lovingly flicking her finger against a circular saw hanging from the wall. “You didn’t think your stay here was free, did you?” she asks innocently.

The villain can only stare at her with wide eyes, their mouth trying to form words that won’t come, and the hero grins at them like this is a game. “I told you that it wasn’t kindness that let you into my home,” she continues after a moment. “I gave you 50 days of my time. I’d like 50 of yours in return.”

“I– I tried to thank you,” the villain points out a little desperately, and the hero only shakes her head mournfully.

“Oh, you poor little thing,” the hero coos mockingly. “No. Now, 50 days is a long time. I expect you to tell me everything about your little criminal organisation in that time.” A hand curves affectionately over the handle of a chisel. “But don’t you worry. I’m sure nothing I do will be as bad as whatever forced you into the claws of your enemy.”

She unhooks a hacksaw from the wall, twisting it testily in her hand. “Now, why don’t you tell me about the guy running it all? A name will do.”

She turns to them with an expectant smile. The villain’s wrists twist a little desperately against the ropes cutting into their skin, a struggle that they know is in vain. “I– I don’t know. I was– I only met him once. I don’t remember him at all.”

The hero tuts disappointedly, and the villain makes some strangled sound of dread when she closes the space between them. “50 days is a long time, darling,” she reminds them sweetly.

Heroism hadn’t made her a monster before, sure, but it’s never too late to start.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #whump #tw implied torture #tw betrayal

[inkblot22]

Jamil Headcanons

Hmm. This would have been a lot longer if I had no self-control or the desperate need for sleep. Enjoy! (It also just dawned on me that it should be more sensible for me to be more scared of Jamil than of Rook, Floyd, or Jade, and I now think this is a very funny thought. Anyways-)

This one is sort of brutal, so TW for yandere, captivity, betrayal (?), physical abuse, emotional abuse, kidnapping, drugging, bone breaking, and a hint of Stockholm syndrome.

I like to think that when Jamil becomes lovesick for someone, that person already likes him. Between the two of them, you would think that you were the creepier one in this situation, since your little schoolkid crush on him has devolved into your every waking thought being consumed by him, his smug little smirk, the way his eyes change color in the light, the silkiness of his hair… it goes on and on and you can’t sleep without seeing him in your dreams.

While that sounds fine and dandy, it isn’t. You’re trying to keep it a secret because you’re pretty certain Jamil only wants to be friends, floating by on the thin hope that your feelings will fade with time, but Kalim’s narrow behind has caught onto the fact that you like his one-sided best friend and has made it a point to obliviously make your life a living hell.

It comes to a head when you’re hanging out at Scarabia one afternoon, Jamil comes in to serve the two of you tea- you because he considers you a friend and Kalim out of nothing but duty- and Kalim opens his big mouth and just blurts out your secret.

“Did you know that they like you?” If you could die on command, you would. You want the earth to swallow you whole, but because your nerves hate you just as much as the universe, you end up just sweating as though you entered a volcano and laughing awkwardly as Jamil sniffs and responds in the worst way possible.

They always say that the worst someone can say when you ask them out is no. They never say what the worst thing someone can say when you get ratted out for your borderline obsession for them. Jamil answered that question very easily.

“What? I knew they were a creep, but I didn’t know that I was their target.”

Yeah… So it only makes sense that you decide to give him space. A lot of space. He doesn’t see you for several weeks and he is not pleased by your decision to avoid him.

Where you believe he thinks you’re a raving, drooling stalker, he sees someone pathetic who admires him, as he should be admired. And losing that admiration is something he doesn’t handle very healthily.

In those weeks that you don’t see him, he’s snappy, more sardonic than usual, seeing his classmates and even some of those who he respects as writhing maggots wasting his time. All he wants to see is your shy smile as you compliment him for something minor.

A lifetime of receiving nothing but disdain or flat apathy for doing his best has caused something of a fever to engulf him when he loses the one person whose opinion he cares about.

So he devises a plan- it’s easy. You have a bad habit of compromising your comfort for other’s, so he asks Kalim to throw a party and invite you.

Predictably, you show up. He hands Kalim a drink and asks him oh-so-nicely to give it to you. Kalim’s so amicable, he does exactly as told, and you’re so…pathetic, so you drink it all without question.

You’re slumped against the wall in minutes. You rouse in his room, tied by your wrists and ankles, barefoot and jacketless with a pounding headache.

The room reeks of his skin- a mixture of fresh soil, star anise, and mellow molasses. You figure out where you are almost immediately.

And he enters. And your mind immediately goes to panic mode.

See, where he sees you and is pleased by your presence, you see him and believe that he brought you here to kill you.

It’s illogical. Completely bonkers. But after not seeing him for nearly a month and having your last interaction be so bad? It only makes sense that maybe he wants to hurt you.

Besides that, Jamil is a champ at holding grudges. That’s one of his many talents. He can hold a grudge as though it’s sewn to his skin. 

So, unlucky you, for pissing him off by avoiding him. He sort of just talks down to you for a few hours, feeds you some really delicious saffron rice (which he will never tell you he slaved over,) and then unties you so you can go to the bathroom.

That last one struck you as strange, but it makes sense when you reenter his main room and his hand latches onto the back of your neck, dragging you towards his bed. He wrestles you down, ties your arms behind your back, then ties your legs- loosely at first.

He tightens the bonds after he gags you with both a rag and duct tape and stacks your legs, one knee over the other, before he turns to retrieve a few other items. 

A railroad spike, the sharp end ground down, two scraps of cloth and some foam padding, and a mallet.

He smooths the fabric and padding down on your knee before lining the blunted spike up with your knee and giving it one strong stroke of the hammer.

You scream, the sound still loud beyond your gag, and Jamil’s lips quirk into a smirk as he tells you everything will be just fine. And then he strikes down with the hammer again.

See, he could have just hypnotized you for this. He could have decided that this was something he didn’t want you to remember, but you pissed him off.

How dare you not spend time with him! How dare you avoid him after he called you a creep! He deserves your attentions and affections, because despite you thinking he didn’t know and simply wanted your friendship, he knew. He knew and enjoyed the special attention you gave him. But you just had to get your feelings hurt when he called you what you were.

So he breaks your kneecap with one more strong, sure strike of the hammer and sews your leg closed as you sweat and drool and howl and cry under your gag, delirious from pain and unable to think clearly. Pain itself is a great painkiller. You don’t even feel the needle.

Jamil secures your leg, splinting your knee and making sure the wound is clean. He waits for you to calm down before he smiles sweetly at you and shows you his pointer finger as though you are a child.

“If you ever want to walk again, don’t try moving.”

So you don’t. Once your leg heals, you walk with a pretty severe limp, and some days it hurts so bad that you can’t move at all.

And Jamil is always there to support you… even when you piss him off.

He punishes you when you do. Punishments are not something that a caring boyfriend doles out, but Jamil is not really a "caring boyfriend" and will treat you like dirt in a heartbeat.

He’ll smack you around, and when that doesn’t work, he gets creative- sitting up all night with one of his coconut-scented candles in your grasp, disregarding your comfort when tending any injuries you have, hiding the broom after he asked you to clean so he can pretend to be even angrier when he gets back…

The list goes on, but his favorite warning is a well-placed gut-kick. 

Jamil is harsh, and he’s not particularly kind. He knows you prefer being around him when he isn’t insulting you with every other word in that unimpressed voice of his, but he can’t help it.

You just look so cute when you cry.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #tw: dark content #tw: dark themes #tw: yandere #yandere #tw captivity #twst #yandere jamil viper #yandere jamil x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #jamil my beloved #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #tw betrayal #tw emotional abuse #tw abuse #tw physical harm #tw physical violence #tw physical abuse #tw physical injury #tw bone breaking #tw bones #tw: emotional abuse #tw: abuse #tw kidnapping #tw kidnap mention #tw drugging #tw stockholm syndrome

[whumpberry-cookie]

Caretaker realising he became cruel.

(Tw: drugging, nonsexual noncon, gaslighting, victim blaming, bad caretaker, death wish, strong guilt, betrayal)

But doesn't care to change:

(W:) "I don't want to take this anymore. It makes me feel weak. I'm scared" (C:)"Listen, you've heared enough of encouraging words from me. Do we really have to work this through every single day? Either you take it now or I'll shove it down your throat"

Whumpee doesn't want anyone to see their wounds and markings. But it doesn't matter for Caretaker who forcefully takes their bandages off and starts to wash them with a harsh sponge. "Please, stop- Caretaker, you are hurting me" "It will hurt as long as you keep fighting"

Caretaker drugging Whumpee with sleeping pills so he doesn't have to listen to another sloppy confession.

----------------------

And is scared of what he might do:

Caretaker asks his Teammate to take care of Whumpee instead. (T:) "I thought you wanted to keep an eye on him. Why would you change your mind now? You know, you can tell me" (C:) "....I'm... I'm so angry, Teammate. I don't want to hurt them. But I'm thinking about it. All the time. I'm getting so irritated. What's wrong with me?" Teammate looks closely in his eyes "Caretaker. When was the last time you slept?" (C:) Why does it even-" (T:) "I can tell you are so tired. Go to sleep and we will talk this out in the morning"

Whumpee is suffering in critical state, the medic can not promise if they will survive. Caretaker catches himself at hoping they will not so he can finally rest. Even though he truly loves them. He just wants the fear and uncertainty to be over.

Whumpee keeps thanking Caretaker. And saying how much Whumpee admires him for being so patient, so gentle. Maybe even confesses love to him. But it all only makes him feel guilty for how much he's masking his frustration and disgust. "You know nothing about me" Caretaker finally snaps. "And I am not the person to love. Not by you."

----------------------

#whump #whumpee #whump prompt #caretaker #caretaker turned whumper #bad caretaker #writting prompt #recovery whump #tw gaslighting #tw noncon #tw drugging #tw betrayal #tw guilt #tw death wish

[8-rae-rae-8]

Thought of something angsty for Graves

Tws under the cut

TW S/A, manipulation, drugging, r@pe, betrayal, addiction

Philip Graves, shadow company commander, working under Shepard. Years came and gone as they fought the same battles. Some of the battles Graves never wanted anything to do with.

Some he knew where blatantly wrong. Always told "it was for the better" and to keep going. Every time he'd report back through a secure line, just him and Shepard, he'd be praised, treated like a puppy who was "just so smart!" rather than a person.

Yet, he hung on these words. His thrumming heart always slowed as he finally got praise.

It became addictive really fast. No one else he'd ever worked for before was able to get under his skin this way. Metaphorically tugging at his throat mic like it was a collar.

Until it wasn't so metaphorical anymore.

It wasn't something Graves asked for, never something he wanted. Yet, he'd find himself pressed to a chair or a wall while dirty praise was whispered in his ear from a pervert, no other than Shepard.

In a way, this was its own betrayal. Graves couldn't bring himself to leave this horrible mess, no matter the pain it caused. Physically, mentally, emotionally. His work never suffered, which was why he "eared" such "high praise".

The bigger the mission, the higher the "reward". It went from words, to bodies, to sex, to aftercare (that he didn't get before), to a warm feeling before strong sleep.

Sometimes he woke from the sleep, sticky and feeling gross. But soft words were whispered to him that made it better.

It was all manipulation, and Graves fell for it. Over and over again.

Made to betray his friends, some of his men, and even ones he'd grown to enjoy being around. All because he wanted one more lick of the addictive praise. He longed for it, and he lost lots because of it. Trust faded from a lot of his previous contacts.

He didn't learn his lesson. No matter how many times he was burned.

He'd die before he stopped falling back on Shepard's twisted words.

It wasn't as satisfying as it had been in the start. Once he watched people become distant, and hard to be around, he kept coming back more often.

Using this as a life line. Sad in every sense of the word.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwiii #Philip Graves #angst #tw r@pe #tw manipulation #tw drugging #tw addiction #tw sa #tw betrayal #philip Graves x shepard #Philip Graves whump #graves whump

[tinymoonrider]

Blue Moon — WIP

Summary: It's that time of year again... Do you think you can survive? He sure doesn't... Not without help at least...

Warnings: Yandere themes, Purge Themes, NOT PROOF READ AT ALL and it ends on a Cliff Hanger

The reader is Gender Neutral :)

A/N: This is an unfinished WIP that I was trying to get done for months now and haven't been able to. I wanted to publish it instead of just deleting it completely.

I do apologize for not being able to get it done. Hopefully you'll still enjoy it.

———02:06:34:08———

I tugged my jacket closer towards my body, my head turning down towards my feet. As I walked faster towards my building, I tried to ignore those on the streets harassing passersby. Unable to drown out the sounds of their chanting and prying questions, I look away from them. “‘Ey, don’t ya need some protection?” A man wearing a blue beanie and thick matching sweatshirt sidesteps in front of me, hands out in front of his chest to show me no harm. Shaking my head, I force a polite smile trying to evade his blocking body.

“Oh come on? I know where you live, I doubt you have any weapons that will actually protect you…” My lips drop as I force my way through. “I’m sorry, that’s… I didn’t mean it like that! I swear!” Walking faster down the street, I don’t look back at him.

Now in front of my building, I slip my card out of my pocket and across the reader. Wiggling my way through the rusted door with a groan, I carefully look around before continuing through. Once my body was finally in the safety of my building, I forced the door shut and straightened my clothes. Heading down towards the lobby, I spot the building manager, Mr. Faux wiping down the grey stained counter tops of the front desk. Looking up at me he smiles, eyes crinkling more at the gesture.

“(Y/n), how are you?” He stops wiping, his body straightening slightly.

I smile, “Doing alright. Still can’t fix the front door?” He shakes his head, blinking a couple of times.

“I called management, they said they’d send someone over…” Chuckling solemnly, I shake my head along with him.

“At this point, I’ll just call someone up. It’s getting ridiculous.” Mr. Faux laughs, his body shaking along with the movement.

“Don’t worry about it. My son can take care of it. That way no one has to pay for something so ridiculous… Have a good day alright, (Y/n)?” I nod, watching as Mr. Faux waddles away.

Heading up to the eighth floor, I walked down the empty hallway towards my unit, the flickering florescent lights above buzzing in an agitated manner. Getting into my apartment, I set down my things and started to prepare dinner. Washing my hands and gathering my ingredients, I stumble upon a yellow envelope pinned to the fridge, my name printed on the front. Dark blue, curly letters stretch along the paper, every swirl and curl drawing me in more and more. Taking it out of the clip I notice the red embossing sealing the letter shut. A small Delilah flower colored in black ink marks the waxy seal. Running my fingertips over it, each and every bump vibrates my skin faster and faster. Peeling it away from the paper, I carefully take out the contents and placed them down onto the counter in front of me.

The white stock paper a stark contrast to the red ink scrawled in the front in bold lettering. Based off of the way the ink sticks to the page, it was printed, not handwritten:

Dear (Y/n),

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope you aren’t planning on participating in the events taking place on: March 21. Although it is your given right, granted by our New Founding Fathers of America, I do ask that you join us at La Belle’s @ 6:00 PM. Although any and all crimes are legal on this day, we do ask that you keep any and all weapons at home. The events taking place on this day will not be required. In fact, we wish to keep any and all patrons as safe as possible.

We do understand the possible fears and risks you may be having, especially on this day, but do know that we will ensure your protection. After all, your protection means our lives are protected as well!

At exactly 5:30 PM on March 21, a car with the license plate: AV2782 will be waiting for you at the back of your building. We do hope you will willingly join us as more details will be provided on the drive there.

——Koala

My eyebrows furrowed down to a singular line the more I kept reading. Biting back the noise that wanted to escape my throat, I looked around the room, a cold chill running up my spine. As I set down the letter, I take a peak inside the envelope, a sticker name tag with the picture of a small brown mouse was printed on the front. On the back it said, “Not to be put on until you have arrived at the event!” Putting it off to the side, I then pulled out a small bingo card with a random assortment of letters. Flipping it over two small shapes were burned into the back. Quickly placing all contents back into its original packaging, I rushed towards my room only to find Gus laying on the bed, eyes focused on his phone.

“Hey, you…” He grinned, his phone being thrown into his lap. “I see you found your letter,” sitting up he crawls over towards me. Pulling me closer, he traps me between his legs before trailing kisses up my arms and towards my sternum, his eyebrows raising, obviously waiting for some sort of answer.

“What?” My hands push against his chest for a moment as I try to create space.

“What was the letter about?” My gaze focuses onto his features for a moment.

“You weren’t the one who wrote it to me?” He shakes his head, concern creeping onto his features. Before he can say anything, I interrupt him, “Where did you get it?”

He shrugs leaning back on his forearms, “‘Was in our mailbox… Why?” He studies my features for a moment before sitting up, hands reached out towards mine, but not quite touching. “Something wrong? What was in it?”

I shake my head my nails scraping against my skin, “I think it was some sort of prank… It— It was about the purge…” He nods his head slowly. With a deep breath, he flashes me a charming smile.

“I’m sure it will be alright. The building will be on lock down… Do you know who it’s from?” Closing my eyes I take a deep breath.

“I don’t know. They called themselves Koala… There’s some sort of event taking place at La Belle’s… It starts at six.” When I open my eyes, Gus’ hazel ones peer at me from his spot on the couch.

“I’m sure that whoever is sending those letters are trying to trick people into become martyrs for ‘the holiday’.” His fingers scrunch up angrily at the words, “Just ignore it for now. There’s not much we can do about it anyway…” I nod.

“You’re probably right.”

Gus smiles up at me, his lips pressing a kiss against my stomach, “I’m going to start dinner. Go ahead and rest up.”

Mumbling out a “thank you,” I take Gus’ spot before flopping back onto the soft mattress. With the warm comforter wrapped around my body, I drift off to the noise of my blind’s rustling slightly.

————02:01:57:09———

Walking out into the bright living room, I searched for Gus, my eyes squinting slightly. Gus’ arms wrap around my body before I can process, his breath fanning against my neck and ears. Sharp tingles run through my body quickly as he pulls me closer towards him, a hum tickling my ears.

His head buries in the crook of my neck as he mumbles out, “How was your nap?” I nodded, leaning more into the warm embrace.

“Very, nice. Thank you for taking care of things for me.” He hums again as his fingers trace my back line.

I let him pull me towards the couch, fuzzy blankets with yellow ducks scattered along the fabric soon engulfs me. Cushions pressed along my sides, he leans into me, his hand running down my arms. Turning on the TV, the news flashes on screen. Two women in blazers sit behind a clear crystal desk, their papers and laptops sitting just off to the side, perfectly framing them in the middle. The one with a deep maroon blazer and black tight curls looks into the camera with such ferocity it shakes me. The other, with a much softer look placed onto her face, wears a soft blue blazer that compliments her skin perfectly. Their names slide on screen in front of them momentarily.

“Just as a reminder for all citizens and purge tourists: At seven o’ clock on March twenty first, all crimes, including murder will be legal. What an exciting day for us all…” She pauses, her fingers pushing back curls, “However our New Founding Father’s of America wants to remind everyone that any and all crimes committed on this day, although legal here, isn’t out there.”

Her partner chimes in, “That’s right Monica. Many countries around the world are appalled at our Purge practices every year as many of our citizens, including theirs, participate in such ‘barbaric acts’. From what our resources have been telling us, this also includes world wide illegal acts such as identity theft. Selling this information to hackers across the world, even if you are still in the country, is still illegal. You will be forced to hold up to these crimes if you do participate, so we all urge you to be safe. Be careful and may your deity—or lack thereof—be with you all on this upcoming holiday.”

Her partner Monica nods, “Thank you Lindsey. This brings us to our next segment; should the warning announcement be changed as not everyone believes in the same type of God, one God—as some faiths are polytheistic, or a God at all. What if it’s just a higher power or mantra? All of this and more, coming up next…” The screen fades to black as a commercial blinds us a moment later.

Gus snickers quietly next to me, his body shaking mine involuntarily. Looking at him, he shakes his head, looking away from me, “It’s nothing I promise. I just… I never thought things would end up this way…” A sad look takes over his features, body leaning heavier against mine, “I just wish she wasn’t taken from us. Had it not been… We thought it would work.” I nod my head.

“It’s not your fault you know. Things happen and nothing is fool proof.” My hand rubs his back as tears spill from his waterline.

“I would give anything to get her back. Anything.” He looks away from me momentarily, his hands wiping his cheeks.

“I know… I would too.” He pulls me into a hug, his chin hooking over my shoulder.

———00:00:48:55———

It was less than an hour before commencement. My work was merciful enough to give us the week off so I was allowed to stay home while I prepared for the Purge. Gus, on the other hand wasn’t so lucky. As soon as he rushed through the door he locked himself in the bathroom, the shower running. Leaning against the door, I listened for anything out of the ordinary. Satisfied that the only noises I could hear were the pelting of water against tile, I pulled away and started on dinner. As soon as he got out of the shower, he pressed his sticky skin against my back with a chuckle.

“Hey…”

I rolled my eyes playfully, “Hey yourself…” Wiggling my body so I could face him, my hands push against his chest. “Why don’t you get dressed. We’re going to start lock down soon.” He nods, his expression dropping down along with his head. With a deep inhale he pulls himself away from me before dragging himself into the shared bedroom.

As I rushed around the kitchen, the news and their countdown timer as background noise, I gathered all of the ingredients for some stuffed bell peppers. ‘Hopefully this will help you get your mind off of things…’ Just as I was about to start chopping a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. A pulsing feeling running through my body as Gus slips on a shirt, eyes locking with mine before going over to the door. I watch as he takes a look through the peephole, his shoulders relaxing. He shakes his head with a sad smile.

“I’ll be right back. It’s Mr. Faux, I ran into him earlier, I think he’s here to continue our conversation…” As he cracks the door open, he waits for me to leave.

“What about?”

His head shakes once more, “Nothing important… Just about the front door. It won’t be a problem after tonight.” I nod, smiling. Just as I’m about to head back into the kitchen, I look back at him once more.

“Is everything alright? I know this day is pretty hard for you… I’m here if you want to talk about it.” My hands fiddle with the side of my shirt, “You know that right?” The corners of his mouth lift up but his eyes don’t shine like they usually do. He nods before slipping outside. My fingers tighten around my shirt as I head back to the kitchen, the pulsing feeling still not leaving my body.

As soon as I had placed the peppers in the oven, Gus walked back in his eyes darting everywhere else but mine. Going over towards him, I watched as he ran his fingers along the pictures of us together hung up on the wall. Placing a hand onto his shoulder, I let him shrug me away, a sigh escaping his lips. Turning back towards me, he opens his mouth to speak but the TV interrupts him. The screen flashing blue, the monotone voice playing through the speakers as the alarm blares at us. Commencement.

———00:11:59:59———

"(Y/n)… Mr. Faux said there's a car waiting for you outside. Are you planning to go to that party?" I shook my head.

"No. Are they still there?" Gus shrugs a sigh escaping his throat. I watch as he swings himself over the couch, a groan escaping his throat. I watched as he leaned forward, hands cupping the back of his head before leaning back once more.

"There's something I need to tell you… Come here." He waves me over. Cautiously walking over towards him, I take a seat and let my fingers thread through his. His eyebrows furrow into a thin line, "About that letter—"

All the lights go out followed by accompanying screams. His fingers tighten around mine, "What's going on?"

"I need to get you out of here. This isn't worth it. It isn't worth it let's go." He tugs me up and drags me around the unit, through the darkness, the screams get louder. His hand never left mine as he swung the front door open. Leading me through the building, a sliver of light hits our eyes as I realize we're at the back of the building. "Once you're out, run to my car," he hands me his set of keys, "get in and lock it. If I'm not there in ten minutes, start driving without me. Go to this location. Take the back roads. Once you arrive, the password is written on the back of the paper. In the glove compartment there is a mask with neon lights. Turn it on and cover your identity. No matter what, you will not take it off until this night is over and you are safe. Completely. Without a doubt, safe. Got that?"

My head spins, "Gus, please." His fingers curl around my shoulders. Looking behind him, he sighs.

"Please. Please just do it. Okay?" Nodding, he presses his lips to mine, warmth flooding my body, "I love you so much. Please, stay safe." Carefully he takes off the barricades from the door and props it open. Checking the immediate surroundings around the building, he nods at me. "Go first, I'll be behind you to cover you."

Nodding, I make a full sprint towards his car, both items clenched tight between my fingers. Moments later, I jumped into the drivers seat, the doors locked behind me as I waited for him to catch up. I feel my uneven breaths escape from my slightly parted lips.

Gus pops up next to me, hand slamming against the window. "(Y/n), I'm here, unlock the door!" After following his command, I clamber over the side console and into the passenger seat. Once Gus settles in, he combs his hair with his slender fingers. His eyes were wide as he gripped the steering wheel. "Are… Are you ready?" He says somewhat breathlessly. I nod and let him drive us to our destination.

———00:11:24:19———

After about thirty minutes into the drive, we finally arrived at a large office-like building. Giant spotlights bolted into the ground shined up at the tinted windows. Pulling up towards the front drive, two men in fully padded suits waited at the front door, eyes trained forward guns strapped to their backs and legs. Turning towards Gus, who has refused to answer any of my questions so far, reaches into the glove compartment and places the mask over his face. Reaching inside once again, he takes out a similar mask, only mine has a wider toothy grin plastered on the front.

Handing it to me, he waits for it to cover my features before exiting the car. Opening my door, he takes my hand and pulls me so I stand behind him, his left hand roughly gripping my right one as he leads us up towards the padded suits. One turns towards him, a grimace etched into his lips as he leans forward. A deep booming voice growls out, "Password."

"AV 2782." The suit nods to their counterpart as they swing the doors open for us. Inside, a crushed velvet carpet and matching curtains decorate the room. Figures donned in blank white masks stand single file blocking us from moving anywhere but forward. Letting Gus lead the way, I follow him to the front desk where a figure donned in a splitting, two faced mask holds out his hands. I watch as Gus reaches into his pocket, pulling out his ID and placing it into the form's hands, Gus turns towards me.

"I don't have my ID… I left it in the apartment…" I whisper, hands clutching his shirt. He shakes his head.

"Don't worry. Do you still have the letter?" I nodded. "Good. Hand it to them and when we get inside, stick to me." Pulling it out of my pocket, my gut twists as I let them take it from me. After a quick scan at both, the white masked figures create a small opening for us to walk through.

Heading into the elevator and up to the top floor, Gus' fingers slap away my hands, his eyes unable to meet mine. Even behind closed doors. Once they open, dim lights and people sitting at circular tables, all focus onto us.

A figure donned in a feathery mask stands, somewhat elevated, at the front of the room. With a microphone in hand, they take a deep breath in, a smile creeping up onto their face, "Let the games begin."

———00:10:59:59———

We are lead to a table in the back of the room, the lights dimming around us. Now seated, Gus grabs my hand, squeezing me tight. A light flashes towards the front. An exhibition. A red dot at the corner of the screen projected onto the wall indicating that what we’re currently seeing is live. A series of images flashes before us. A padded room with a singular chair placed in the middle, several shots of a park, another of an office building. The screen goes black for a moment as a spotlight shines onto a mask-less announcer stands before us. Her attire is unlike anyone else’s. Tight leather wraps around her figure like a second skin, bright neon makeup painting her features. In smeary purple lipstick, she raises her microphone to her lips, a slurty voice putting us all in a trance.

“Welcome everyone… I’m so glad to announce this year’s contestants for the Purge Party,” she pauses, pulling out a paper, “Out of the thirty six invitations sent out to our people, only three of them came willingly… One is missing.” She purrs. Turning towards the screen she scans the faces that have now popped up on screen.

“Well, not really…” her eyes lock with mine, tongue running along her lips with a moan, “It seems as though our little runaway wanted to join our fun…” A spotlight illuminates our table, Gus’ fingers squeezing mine tightly. “And here I thought we would have to say goodbye to little Sara. You know the rules, Hon. We need all thirty six players… Is Sara our replacement for your little Mouse?”

Gus stands up, his fingers shaking as he looks down towards me. His hand never leaving mine he looks back up towards the announcer. “I wanted to deliver this one personally. They’re quite the fighter…” his voice cracks, “It was the most logical decision.” The crowd cheers as two bulky frames rush to my side, pulling me from my seat and dragging me away behind metal doors.

My mask drops from my face as I scream out to Gus. He doesn’t look back.

#yandere #male yandere #tw obsession #tw kidnapping #tw betrayal #tw purge #tw cliff hanger #tmrwrites #I'll get this done one day... #maybe #I'll try my best :)

[yumnasfunblog]

#iroh #zuko critical #tw betrayal

[serickswrites]

The Leftovers

Warnings: stab wound, blood, bleeding, left for dead, betrayal

Team Leader slowly rolled onto their back, their side exploding with pain with each small movement. They pressed harder on the gurgling stab wound, trying to stem the flow of blood as they reopened the slowly forming scab. They stifled a scream as they rolled over completely. Team Leader couldn't be sure, but the traitor had likely left the area. The traitor had likely left Team Leader for dead.

Team Leader couldn't believe they had fallen for Teammate One's trap. It had been so obvious. And yet they'd walked right into it. Because to believe that Teammate One had turned coat was to open the possibility that any of the team was at risk. At risk of joining the enemy. Or at risk of being killed for fighting back.

They were sure that Teammate One would spin some story about being ambushed and that they were killed in the scuffle. They were sure that Teammate One would tell a tale of how their body wasn't recoverable, but the team could avenge them. They were sure that some of the team would go along, but not all.

And that was why Team Leader had to get up. They had to get back. They had to warn the team. They couldn't let Teammate One lure the rest of them into danger. Team Leader couldn't fail their team now.

Team Leader lifted their head to look at the wound. It was bad. Not the worst they had. But it was pretty bad. They lay back, trying to rack their brain on ways they could pack the wound. They were running out of daylight and had to get out of here.

But as Team Leader tried to rise, the pain became too much for them. With a cry they fell back against the ground, whimpering as fresh, hot blood flowed passed their fingers. How on earth were they going to get up and out of here?

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw stab wound #tw blood #tw bleeding #tw left for dead #team whump #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 27 #prompt: left for dead #queue #tw betrayal

[refusingtotiemyshoelaces]

Dr Keh headcanons:

(tw bullying, abuse, betrayal):

Dr. Keh came from another town which thought pizza making was stupid.

Dr. Keh originally came to the pizza town because he hated it in his original hometown. In addition to that his living situation was becoming dangerous (mainly because one of his bullies had a lot of power, and they used it to constantly endanger his life), so he was forced to move.

Dr. Keh had a lot of adjusting to do once he moved to the pizza town, because they had things like ghosts and the like. He used to think that people were stupid for believing in fantasy creatures, now he deals with them daily.

He has a young nephew named Anthony, who he took in because Anthony's parents suck.

Dr. Keh sleeps for a few hours after work because he's always exhausted.

Dr. Keh spends a lot of time studying pizza related facts. He also spends a lot of time watching the news.

Dr. Keh enjoys attending pizza-related events, and he won every single one until the ovenist came along.

Dr. Keh rarely shows emotion on his face.

Dr. Keh is extremely introverted and often misanthropic.

Dr. Keh was bullied a lot when he was younger.

Dr. Keh changed his name when he moved to the pizza town, because he didn't want any association with his old town.

Part of the reason Dr. Keh is misanthropic is because he had one friend who betrayed him really badly and displayed his secrets (really personal ones) to everyone.

Another part is that he found out the hard way that some people only cared for his fame, but they could care less about him. Dr. Keh has undiagnosed autism and ADHD.

Dr. Keh rarely ever is still unless watching the news or sleeping.

Dr. Keh really likes fancy things.

Dr. Keh struggles with taking criticism well because he has a lot of negative emotions associated with it, and the bullying he faced made him view any form of criticism as the beginning of a verbal or physical attack.

#good pizza great pizza #tw bullying #tw abuse #tw lying #tw betrayal

[friendofthecrows]

You know everyone talks about the heartbreak of friendships ending but no one talks about the joys of a few years later when you can now use their name in fiction. It would have been weird to name characters after you, therefore I was effectively barred from using that name, but now? We don't even know each other anymore. It's free real estate.

Anyways shout-out to my ex-friend DELENN. You had a really top-notch name, sorry you turned out to be a BACKSTABBER after 4 years of friendship. I always wanted to name a character Delenn but never could because I knew you. Now, however

#hal rambles #funny #possibly #writing #characters #names #tw betrayal

[writingquestionsanswered]

Subtle Portrayal of Toxic Romance Pre-Betrayal Twist

Anonymous asked: I want one of my main villains to infiltrate the MC group (about 7) and show his true colors in the end to them and the reader. The villain will also turn one of the groups into “the dark side” but in a more manipulative way, making the character thinking he’s in love with them. How do I make it so I can show the villain (who will be an unreliable narrator) sneakily start gaslighting and turning the other character away from the group without the reader knowing fully well what’s going on? He needs the character to have a kind of..dependency on him, but idk how to show them start their relationship without it being wayyyy to obvious. And later on he won’t hit them or anything but gaslight and just be a toxic in general, to give them the mindset of “no one loves you and I’m all you have left” So how can I make a character who once loved their group and all, suddenly leave because of a toxic partner, and for it to be believable and not too obvious? Thank you!

This is potentially tricky scenario for a few reasons. Part of making something believable is to lay the foundation ahead of time. When you want that thing to be "believable but not obvious," you create that foundation through subtle hints... things that will give your reader just enough pause that they notice it, but not enough that they figure everything out. But...

It's tricky to lay the foundation for a toxic relationship with subtle hints, because at the very least the reader might not catch on, and at the most it might look like you're romanticizing a toxic relationship. The main way we avoid romanticizing a toxic relationship is by making it clear that's what it is, typically through the thoughts of the person experiencing it or through the thoughts/dialogue of concerned characters who are witnessing it. Obviously, if you're trying to subtle, that's not going to fly. Not easily, anyway.

That said, I think the best you could probably do is figure out toxic features of the relationship that could manifest in ways that don't seem overtly toxic at first, but maybe give your reader (and maybe witnessing characters) a bit of a pause. As the relationship unfolds, these can become a little more overt, making the character experiencing them have faint inward doubts, and causing the characters who witness these things to express some concern. But the character's faith in the love interest leads to them finding plausible reasons to excuse the behaviors--which other characters (for the sake of not romanticizing) can then view with skepticism, saying it sounds toxic, but hopefully this is just a one-time thing. Then, it can become less of a question in the scenes preceding the betrayal/big reveal, to the point where the witnessing characters are 100% on the side of "this is toxic," but they're so preoccupied with that, they're totally missing that this is about so much more than the character being in a toxic relationship... they're ALL about to be betrayed by this person in a big way. So *that* will be the thing that is the big, shocking twist.

I hope that makes sense and will work for you!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Visit my FAQ

Find answers fast on my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

#tw toxic relationship #tw toxic people #tw gaslighting #tw betrayal #writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

[inkblot22]

Le Manège de la Folie

Bruh I'm so sick rn. Life sucks. Anyhow, I like this title, but I think it would be better suited to a better piece of writing. Maybe I'll make this a series? Who knows

This fic is aimed at anyone who can handle it! There are no pronouns other then 'you' to identify the reader, and there are no mentions of specific body parts.

TW for DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, noncon, suggestions of stalking (except it's literally canon that he does this type of thing,) betrayal, Rook Hunt because he scares me, and crusty French that is possibly incorrect.

It’s funny how things go in a circle. You fear someone, you love someone, and you’re afraid of them all over again.

It started out so solidly, too. You were so green and he was so… bizarre. He was weird. You caught him taking pictures of Tsunotaro from the bushes in front of Ramshackle… And beyond that, you know he let you. You’re sure of it, because it only happened once, and when you worried about it later, he stopped you in the halls on your way to class and asked you, in so many words, who would believe you.

Rook is many things. He’s your upperclassman, he’s reliable, he’s deceptively slender, he has tall person energy despite being 5’8, he’s a hunter, he’s intimidating…

Rook is so saccharine. He’s gentle as he swipes the dirt from your brow and presses his lips against your cheeks.

“Je sais que tu ne le veux pas, mon ange, mais c'est ce pour quoi nous sommes faits.” He mumbles.

You slowly lost your fear of him when you got to know him more. He became a bastion of reliability in your life, and you… perhaps you grew attracted to him and his fuck ass bob, despite your initial fear of him. Take the perhaps out of that last sentence. You were head over heels- and how could you not be? He was there for you when you asked him for help with your studies, gentle in his critiques and knowledgeable in his guidance. He shared his poetry with you!

His teeth nibble along your shoulder, where your shirt’s been torn. He hums at the taste of your bare skin.

“Tu peux pleurer, chéri…” He murmurs in your ear, “I will not judge you. May your tears water the earth and give birth to new life.”

But… good things never last. Rook vanished for a few days, be it from your sight or from the campus, you weren’t sure. But he was gone, and then he returned, and he was… strange. It’s hard to put your finger on what exactly makes Rook strange. He just is, but when he came back from being away, he was somehow more peculiar. 

And your fear returned. It made you question whether or not you actually even liked him when it did. You spent your days in a paranoid haze, often cowering under your window in your room, just so no one could look up and see you. You came back from class, you wanted to take your place under the window, but he was standing there, leaning against the windowsill.

And here you are. Rook is above you, you are beneath him. His skin is damp with sweat, sliding down to kiss yours. You don’t know if you’re still breathing, and you’ve never understood less of what he is saying to you…

But he’s smiling. And the way his hips are circling is making you dizzy.

“Un jour, ta peur de moi deviendra de l'amour. You and I will grow beautiful together.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #tw: dark content #tw: dark themes #tw: yandere #yandere #twst #tw: noncon #tw noncon #tw: rook hunt #tw implied stalking #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook x reader #tw betrayal

[mouthsewedshut]

TW// Betrayal, Tazers

Villain panted as they ran off from an exploded building - They feel the absolute urge to collapse and pass put but they have to run from them....!

Though as Villain almost reached to their destination, to what they hoped was escape, they were suddenly tazed in the knee - And they were cut off with a yelp as they felt to the ground.. Then a familiar figure in cape ran to their vision as they are slowly losing consciousness "Villain I am sorry.. I am so sorry but the Agency relies on me..! And I can't fail them." Then everything went black as tears welled up in their eyes.

#mouthsewedshut #heroes and villains #whump #writing prompt #angst #writeblr #prompt #tw betrayal #betrayal #emotional whump #villain whumpee #implied #multiple whumpers #hero whumper #villain whump #yuh #reluctant whumper #whump prompt