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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

Text

yandere!emperor with empress!reader scenario

warnings: infidelity, obsessive behavior, blackmail, non-con, regicide.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome to my first yandere fic! Before we dive in, I want to let you know a couple of things; firstly, this is not the prologue of a series and never will be one because I simply do not have the time right now. It is a scenario, a prompt, that was inspired by the Fallen Kingdom series created by @cassanderasblog. I will leave a link to their work here. I credit them for giving me inspiration and being honest in their feedback when I showed them the initial draft. Credit also goes to @faux-ecrivain for helping finish a difficult scene.

Finally, please do not comment on here if you wish to harass me in some shape or form. I do and will not tolerate bullying. As the saying goes, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all." If it does happen, however, I will have no choice but to remove this scenario as soon as possible.

So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy :)

Yandere!Emperor had despised you with his heart and soul. The only reason he had allowed the marriage to even happen was to solidify the alliance between his nation and yours. He did not love you. The woman who held his heart, the one whom he trusted above everyone else in the world is Tatiana Adreeva. His mistress. A beautiful flower that should never be polluted by the nobles who dare to not allow her to become the Empress simply because she lacked the status equal to his own prior to ascension. You did.

Yandere!Emperor did not lay a hand on you after the vows had been exchanged in the temple. He did not seek out your company, preferring to seek comfort in Tati’s bed and her arms. He had his crown, his woman, and allocated more power through his marriage with you. It was nothing personal. He simply did what he had to do so that his Empire would continue to prosper.

Yandere!Emperor would not tolerate any rudeness targeted toward his lover, even if you had not uttered a single word to her at all or raised your hand against her.

To him, ignoring her when she greeted you was enough to earn a lengthy lecture from him.

But you did not cling to him or beg for mercy, as he thought you would do, or any other self-respecting maiden who did not want to anger her husband. You coldly stared at him with that, silent as the grave until he dismissed you from his office. Out of spite, he had his aide add more documents to your desk for the next month even when the work was not part of the Empress’ official duties.

To his joy, Tatiana became pregnant with his child, his heir. Being by her side was suddenly all that mattered to Yandere!Emperor. His overprotective streak and ill temperament increased over time. He would lash out at you for the smallest of incidents, even if it was not your fault. And like before, you did not react to his words and continued with your life.

Like what happens to him or with his mistress is none of your concern unless it is associated with the Empire and the citizens. As it should be. He did not marry you out of love.

When the child was born, a healthy baby boy christened Nikolov, Yandere!Emperor held a banquet and invited ambassadors from neighboring kingdoms to celebrate. But it was on this day….that he knew the truth.

Once he had made the necessary greetings and made sure the captain of the guards would immediately report anything suspicious or if Tati and Nikolov were in any danger, Yandere!Emperor retreated to his office. He looked over the stack of documents on his desk, trying to lessen his workload in the morning so that he could spend time with his Tati and his son.

Upon hearing a knock at the door, he did not look up from the outline of a treaty as he allowed the third person to enter his office without cutting off their fingers. His mistress, the head butler, and his advisor. Tati’s older brother, Marquis Aizel Adreeva. Yandere!Emperor had bought the highest status that he could give to his mistress’ family after receiving positive confirmation that Tati was truly pregnant and not a misdiagnosis.

Aizel smiled, closing the door behind him with his foot as he set down a tray, placing two silver goblets and a bottle of wine on the corner of his desk. He spoke softly, congratulating Yandere!Emperor on finally having an heir and making his sister the happiest woman in the world. He poured the wine into the goblets. He held one in his hand, and extended his other hand to the Glorious Son, Blessed by the Five Gods.

Yandere!Emperor smiled, taking the offered drink. They raised their goblets high in the air, and drank. Yet when Yandere!Emperor looked at Aizel…his merry smile was not right. Not the kind of joy that a new uncle would express at a nationwide celebration. It was tighter, almost anticipating something…to happen.

That was when he realized the wine tasted bitter. That was when the room began to spin, and it felt like his skull being split in half. Poison. He had been betrayed. Yandere!Emperor grunted, trying to steady himself against the desk when Aizel walked around the wooden structure and had the audacity to push him back into the leather chair.

“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Emperor.” Aizel chastised, his amber orbs glowing with delight. “Not going to lie, I did not think the wine would accelerate the poison as quickly I had thought, but that works for me!”

Yandere!Emperor felt a rock plummet into the pit of his stomach at Aizel’s words. “You…did this?” He gurgled. “I thought…the Empress -”

“And deny me the opportunity to see the look on your face, choking on your blood? Absolutely not. Dear, sweet [First Name] would never have done this to you. You might not have loved her, but she did respect you.” Aizel shrugged. "If Tati were in her shoes, I reckon things would not have gone as smoothly as they have." He said casually, as if he were talking about the weather and not informally speaking to the most powerful man in the Empire.

“I only have ten minutes before I must return to the party, so I will do the honor of answering your unspoken questions. Now, where should I start? Oh, right. Why? Why did I do this when I love you like a brother? When have you treated my sister and I with nothing but kindness and respect, providing support whenever we are troubled, mentally, physically, and finanically? Well, the answer is really, really simple: I don’t. I tolerated you. I respected you. But never once did I feel any affection towards you.” His smile widened. “The one who deserves to stand by Tati's side is the Rapid Dog of The Northern Border, my brother-in-arms. Remember him? He was engaged to Tati. The man she should have married, should have been the father of my nephew. But you had the engagement annulled because she had said a few nice words to you. You threatened to seize my family’s home unless she came to the palace as your mistress? Do you remember? Why do I even bother asking? You’re going to die anyway, and we will finally be free from this gilded cage. Seven years. Seven long, agonizing years of watching my sister playing the gentle, loving role of a besotted mistress when all she really wanted to do was slit your throat. I thought about that every day too, you know? Well, almost. I actually felt sorry for the Empress, you know. She didn’t deserve to have a husband who neglected his duties and blamed everything on the one person who kept the gears in this Empire going, until now.”

“E-Empress -”

“Had an assassin give her a clean, painless death. Made it look like an accident, and he delivered! That’s very impressive for an underground guild, you know. Investment was worth it.” Aizel giggled.

“Now, it’s time to let everyone know their beloved Emperor has retired for the evening and call it a night. Big changes are coming. Pity you won’t see it. Don’t worry though, I won’t kill Nikki. I do love him…and he will never know that his true father is a tyrannical piece of shit who died in his own pool of blood because he allowed love to muddle his mind when he should have put the country’s well being above all else. Farewell, Emperor Aleksander of the Moldova Empire. From the ashes of corruption, a new country shall be born. And my nephew will rule over it in his father’s stead once he is ready. The father he should have had and not the one who brought him into this world, Duke Matthias Starkov.”

When he awakened, Yandere!Emperor realized he was no longer on the floor. He could breathe and he could see in the mirror that hung across the room that he looked younger again. He asked, no, demanded, a quivering servant to tell him what the year and date were, now. It was The Year of the Moon, ----. As the crown prince of the Moldova Empire, it is his duty to select a candidate to become his crown princess, his future Empress who would rule beside him when he ascended as the Emperor. His father, the current Emperor, is growing impatient with his sixteen-year-old son and annoyed that he is still fawning over the marquis’ daughter, Tatiana Adreeva, a woman who was already engaged to a duke.

“Bring me the list, no, tell Josef to bring it to my office immediately. I will be there shortly.” Yandere!Emperor had never pushed the servants to dress him quickly as he did at this moment. He did not know how or why, but he had returned to the past, right when he had seen Tatiana for the first time. Seven years into the past, before Aizel had poisoned him and killed his Empress.

Sure enough, he saw his Empress’ name on the list, five down from the most qualified and right in the middle of the lengthy parchment. [First Name] [Last Name], born to the Republic of Greiran, the Prime Minister’s only daughter.

They are Moldova’s closest neighbor and primary source of spices and various crops that are able to thrive in the harshest of weather conditions. Rumor had it that the Prime Minister himself was the one who had collaborated with the magician’s tower on this project, saving thousands of lives from suffering another winter and no harvest after the king had collapsed from a broken heart, having lost his queen after she had given birth to the crown prince.

That connection to the magician’s tower was the only reason Yandere!Emperor had married his Empress. Access to more magical resources than the ones in the Moldova Empire, enabling the creation of magical weapons and protecting the borders around enemy nations. And yet he still died like a damned dog, blind to the respect and admiration his Empress held for him in favor of receiving love from his murderer. But not this time. This time….he will set things right.

He will not get involved with Tatiana Adreeva.

He will ascend to the throne as he is supposed to.

He will be devoted only to [First Name], never taking a mistress even if the aristocracy begged him. Even if their marriage is only on paper, and she never looks at him as a man and only as an Emperor.

He will learn everything there is to know about his future Empress, and he will never let her go.

Taglist

@impeakcharacterdesign

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@mitra555

@mooly-artistic

@lxdymoon0357

@xiaopleasecomehome

@lovely-nightmares

@aurora-rose-miller

@swallowtailcherry

@justcressida

@faux-ecrivain

@yandere-dark-cupid

@likesugarandcyanide

@angelltheninth

@kanroji-san

@suiana

@swallowtailcherry

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2023

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere!emperor #do not repost #yandere oc #ns.fw #cw obsession #tw obsession #tw yandere #tw dubious consent #cw dubious consent #tw murder #cw murder

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faeriekit · 17 days

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Feet on the Ground

loose phic phight fill for @oldfashionedbattlehymn

warnings for: murder attempt, discussion of child death

********

Danny wakes up in a garbage bag.

It isn’t as gross as it sounds. Danny’s the only thing in there, and it’s not like the lack of air is going to kill him; he could rip his way out, but honestly, going intangible is just as effective and twice as easy.

And, of course, once he’s phased his way out of the dumpster behind the gas station, Danny is very, very grateful that he didn’t even try. Everything else in there is….eeugh. He shivers.

Well. It’s got to be early morning now—it’s dark. There’s no other cars on the highway. Even the gas station itself is closed, and the stars have already lost their spark.

Time to head home.

Danny wakes up behind the gas station. Again.

…Okay?

The first time, Danny had just assumed he’d fallen asleep somewhere weird while flying around the neighborhood, but a second time is a pattern. It’s definitely not his fault this time either, because there’s no way he would have duct taped his arms and legs together or slapped a gag on his mouth.

That’s kind of. Ominous.

Danny frees himself of the garbage bag first— and thank goodness he doesn’t have to breathe— he floats himself out of the bag and the dumpster, which had…thankfully been given a good scrubbing since last time? There’s some other trash, apparently, but nothing sharp enough to cut through his durable, tape-based bonds. It takes some finagling and some eye lasers for Danny to finally get his arms free.

And. Hoo Boy. There’s no more liberating a feeling than peeling tape off your mouth, even if your mouth skin kind of comes off with it and you bleed a little. But it’s fine! It’s green, which means it’ll heal.

Fabulous. Danny zooms off invisibly into the night, more than willing to put the night behind him.

…Okay, the third time is what makes it more than a coincidence.

Danny shucks out of the bruise-tight ropes around his wrists, torso, knees, and legs, spits out his gag, and flies home. He finally has to give into the inevitable, and attempts the last resort:

“Jazz?” he whispers, slowly rocking his sister in her bed. Jazz mumbles in her sleep.

“Jaaaaazzy…” Danny tries again, trying not to look either too spooky or too imposing. Jazz’s reflexes are such that—

The laser she keeps under her pillow goes off. Danny loses a few millimeters of hair, which means that her aim is getting better.

He doesn’t have any trouble seeing in the dark (or, uh, not anymore, anyway), but it’s easy to see Jazz’s sleepy squint as she pulls herself somewhat upright. More like a shrimp with scoliosis, but, well. You know.

“Whuh,” Jazz asks. “...Danny?”

“Hey,” Danny whispers, a ghost at her bedside. Jazz grunts. “Uh. What does it mean when you keep waking up in a trash bag behind the gas station?”

Jazz blinks. Jazz rubs her eyes. Jazz blinks again, looking more sleepy than coherent but at least somewhat aware of her surroundings.

“Garbage bag?” Jazz asks blearily. “You were in a garbage bag?”

“Yeah,” Danny whispers back. “My legs were tied down?”

“...Danny, were you murdered?”

Danny stops.

“Huh?” says Danny.

“So, if you look here,” Tucker points out, finger not quite touching the glass of his CRT monitor, “That’s when Danny gets murdered.”

There is a collective eeew from the assembled viewers— Jazz, Sam, and Danny, all crowded in Tucker’s room.

“Yeah, Tucker agrees. The light from the black-and-white footage flashes in the reflection of his glasses. “Here’s where he’s tossed in…there. And this is when they tossed him in the dumpster.”

There’s no sound on the gas station surveillance footage, but Danny imagines that his body clanged on the way in. What the hell. Danny got murdered behind a gas station, and he didn’t even notice?!

They watch the archived footage of a Ford F-150 driving off the property, and then Danny’s dead body being unceremoniously tossed in a dumpster. It’s kind of surreal. No one had noticed. There was no one to report the crime committed.

“I can’t believe that guy just clocked you over the head, like that,” Sam points out. “It’s just a regular car jack. It shouldn’t have gotten you in the first place.”

The observation isn’t appreciated.

“Be nice! My brother was just murdered,” Jazz scolds. Danny doesn’t think she sounds as offended as she should be. “Either way, it’s certainly an attempted murder, if not a successful one. We have to do something.”

“…Can’t we just call the cops?” Tucker asks, turning away from the computer. “I mean. Look. That’s proof. We have proof right here.”

Sure enough, there is footage. Right there. There’s Danny’s murder, in 240p black and white.

“Where’s the body?” Sam asks dryly, and. Uh. That’s a problem they’ll have to solve.

Everyone looks at everyone else. No one has a good solution.

“…Do we have to do this?” Tucker realizes at the same second as the rest of them.

Jazz looks at Danny. Danny looks at Sam. Sam looks at Tucker.

Tucker stares back at them, entirely unenthused with the conclusion they’ve come to.

“…Okay then,” Jazz exhales. “How do you want to do this?”

Sam ends up on top of the gas station, a cell phone in her hand.

Tucker, PDA in hand, sits in Jazz’s passenger seat. The camera feed is ongoing and recording for posterity.

Jazz taps her fingers on the wheel of her car. There isn’t anywhere better to hide than down the road and around the corner, so she does, hoping that they’re on the other end of the road from whoever’s killing her brother every night.

Danny is, of course, wandering through the neighborhood.

Losing her baby brother—on purpose—is the worst thing Jazz can imagine. She feels sick. She wants to throw him into the car and speed away, and break every speed limit law in the county on her way out. She wants to pack him in bubble wrap and ship him expedited to France.

But she does leave her brother alone. She lets Tucker look over the footage as Danny roams around town, just as unaware and unsuspecting as his last few outings.

Tucker sees the man first.

He bolts upright, eyes on his PDA. “Jazz.”

Her head whips around. They watch, silently, as someone approaches Danny’s lone figure on the doorstep outside the gas station.

They can’t hear anything. That’s the scariest part.

“Call,” Jazz demands. Tucker does.

Doubtlessly, on the roof of the gas station, Sam is dialing too.

So. Danny knows this guy.

And. Uh. It’s kind of embarrassing; he’d asked if Danny was okay walking home alone at night a few hours before his dumpster wake-up call, and Danny had said it was fine.

Apparently, no, it wasn’t fine. That being said, Danny hadn’t been expecting a guy in a button-up and khakis to be the guy murdering him on the down low. He kind of looks like the dude who sells you televisions and burner phones at a Wal-Mart.

The guy comes all the way over to where Danny is sitting on the thin concrete step of the gas station. His breath fogs up from the weather and his eyes rake over Danny, up and down; down and up.

“Hey,” he says, looking all the world like any other concerned citizen. Danny’s heart throbs. “It’s cold outside. You need a ride back to town?”

“…No,” says Danny, who doesn’t.

“Your mom okay with you comin’ home late by yourself?” the man asks nervously, hands going to his hair.

Danny thinks about how many times he’s woken up in the dumpster. He thinks about seeing his own body on the camera tape. Prone. Dead.

“You still keep a car jack in your passenger seat?” Danny asks instead.

The man freezes. An attempted murderer he might be, but he’s not exactly an Oscar-winning actor. “What?”

“The car jack,” Danny repeats. He doesn’t know if he’s mad the man keeps targeting him, or whether he’s grateful Danny’s the only one who’s died so far. “It’s got a lot of sharp corners. They hurt, you know.”

The man…carefully laughs the statement off, but he looks. Nervous.

Danny doesn’t really need to confront him; he only has to stall long enough that Tucker or Sam can call the cops, so that they can see this man’s face and get him on the record. But.

There’s a part of Danny…

The man looks so human. Flush with blood. Solid enough to break. Fragile enough to be made broken.

Danny still resents being made dead. This man didn’t kill Danny—not in any way that mattered, but he’s an easy target.

He doesn’t breathe. The man watches a boy sit in the shadows of a building where he’s been dumping bodies, and Danny can taste his fear.

“It hurt a lot,” Danny says, and he isn’t referring to waking up in the bags every couple of mornings in the last few weeks. “It hurt so much. I was screaming.”

The man is silent.

“Do you like to hear the screaming?” Danny asks, suddenly curious. Did he care, if Danny had screamed, or if he had been too unaware to notice he was dying? Would he have cared, if there were others more breakable than Danny that he had hurt?

He doesn’t answer.

“I don’t like it,” Danny confesses. In a horrible way, it’s easy to tell his would-be murderer about his death—unlike Tucker or Sam, who witnessed it, or Jazz, who loves him, this man can’t be affected by Danny’s take on his own death. In fact, if he is hurt by the thought of Danny’s death…good. It’s better if he is. If there is remorse in him. “I don’t like to hear screaming. I screamed for so long, and so loud. It felt like forever.”

The man’s hands curl. He steps back.

Danny can’t help but to frown. If he leaves, the whole point of calling the cops will be for nothing, and he’ll be warier of coming back to where Danny’s body was dropped. “Where are you going?”

The man takes another step back. Danny rockets upright. He’s on his feet in seconds. “Weren’t you here for me?” Danny asks, genuinely confused, arms outstretched. “We’re here. You dumped me here over and over again.”

“Shut up,” the man snaps, startling the both of them with his volume. “He—you’re not real. You’re… Be quiet. I have real things to get done tonight!”

Danny’s dead heart throbs. Is there another dead kid? Did Danny let another kid get killed in Danny’s place? “Do you?”

The man loses his voice.

“We’re already here,” Danny points out. He steps closer—closer to the truck that drove his dead body around town, further from the dumpster where his body had been dropped. The disposal hadn’t been a funeral, but it’s closer than anything Danny’s ever had. “You’re here. I’m here. Aren’t you here for me?”

A choked breath. Danny gets closer. The ectoplasm in his skin is too warm and too cold—but he has no idea what he looks like from the outside. Is he glowing? Is he see-through? Does he just look like any other dead kid: a little too cold, a little too pale?

They’re eye to increasingly shorter eye. Up close, the man just looks like any other guy. Shaved in the face. Wrinkles around his eyes. A nose. A mouth.

Danny’s not afraid of him. His head tilts. “You’ve already killed me three times. What are you going to do now? I’ll just come back again. I won’t even notice. I died. I know what you look like—I know how to find you. It’ll be easy.”

The man’s pupils dilate—

And then there’re hands on Danny’s neck. And. It’s kind of painful, but Danny doesn’t have to breathe. So. He just kind of…pretends to be hurt?

He’s meant to be stalling for time. The cops are coming. All he needs is time.

So Danny makes some somewhat dramatic sounds and kicks out with his feet, because a fight lasts longer than a passive victim. He lands a hit to the man’s stomach, and another to his chest—he doesn’t drop Danny the way Danny might have expected, but Danny isn’t going to run out of air, so this can last forever until the man lets go. Or does something.

“Stop— coming— back,” the man snarls, and suddenly sounds nothing like the dudes who man the tech counter at the Walmart. “I got you— you should be gone!”

Danny is gone. But he’s also here. And he’s also been gone for a very long time, and he’s also getting choked out by a guy in a gas station parking lot. It’s been a rough few hours of waiting for this dude. He might as well make it worth it.

So maybe his body turns a little translucent. Just a little. Just enough to see the streetlight through his skin, probably, and the hazy road behind them.

Getting thrown to the concrete hurts, but, you know, not as badly as getting tossed into a wall by Skulker on a rampage. Danny’s barely going to be bruised after this.

The guy runs to his car, and Danny frowns, scrambling back up, and, wait. Wouldn’t having bruises be better? As evidence? They better not heal too quickly, or else that’ll be it of his physical proof.

“Where are you going?” Danny asks, more perplexed and angry than anything. Isn’t he supposed to try to kill the witness??

But the guy hauls butt into the cab of his truck— and then the lights go on and the tires start spinning, the engine roaring to life.

If Danny wasn’t actively on camera at the moment, it would be easy to fly after the car. As it is, he’s pretty fast, but he’s not quite quick enough on his feet to chase after a pickup truck careening down the highway in the dark.

The man’s gone in a few seconds. Honestly, Danny’s kind of annoyed about the whole thing. It would have been nice for it to work.

Sam climbs down from the roof of the gas station, phone in her hand. “No, I just— he choked out my friend and drove off! Send someone over here already!! You— do you need the license plate again?!”

Danny just looks at her. Sam covers her phone’s mic with a hand: “They’re saying five minutes,” she mouths.

Great.

Danny hunkers down, throat bruising, and Sam sits down beside him. They wait.

By the time the cops pull into the gas station, the guy’s more than out of sight. Sam’s the one who takes the lead on dictating their story. Danny sort of doesn’t realize how out of it he is until someone tries to throw a shock blanket on him. He almost hits the guy square in the face— and Sam’s the one who has to catch his arm.

Uh. Oops.

Jazz and Tucker roll in, hardly pretending to have not been nearby; Jazz wraps her arms around him, and Danny lets her.

Sue him. It’s late. He’s tired.

“...And I can’t believe you weren’t able to get down the road in time to catch a man who choked out my best friend,” Sam snaps, which, aw! Danny’s a best friend. The cop she’s attempting to strip down for parts looks less sympathetic than Danny feels. “You’re barely a ten minute drive up the highway! What were you doing, meandering?”

“No,” the cop grits out, eying Sam like a bug on his shoe. “We were telling the officer down the road what to look out for.”

Apparently, jamming the gas down hard enough to bust your speedometer gets you pulled over at the speed check.

The night is over before Danny knows it. Someone gets him to the station, someone takes photos of his bruises and takes his statement. Someone calls Mom and Dad and then Danny’s in the GAV, half asleep and exhausted beyond belief.

He falls asleep on the couch, Mom’s fingers in his hair.

It’s not like the Amity Park police tell them anything, but Jazz is the one who finds the report on the news.

She records it on the TiVo for him.

“Eustace Miller, from Tennessee,” Sam reads aloud, knee to knee on his couch. Tucker adjusts his glasses. “Looks like he was already on the run.”

“Or as good as,” Tucker agrees quietly. “Looks like they’re pinning a couple of cold cases to him.”

They watch; there’s pictures of him from his hometown, and from the towns he would visit on his joyride across the country. There were pictures of his family. There were pictures of kids Danny would never meet: kids who were already dead, and who had been for months. Years, even.

They’d looked so happy in the photos from when they were alive.

…Danny could relate.

Jazz turns the report off that night, thumb on the power button. And that’s all it takes for Danny to stop waking up in a trash bag.

#phic phight 2024 #tw murder #tw child murder #tw death #I think that covers it???#wait #tw choking #there we go #Danny works out some of his feelings about dying young #danny phantom #phic phight #this is very quickly being edited and posted on lunch break please bear w/ me #faer fic #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton

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aromantic-goldfishdeactivated202 · 2 months

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#mads posts #video #TikTok #tw unreality #which applies to all of the following:#tw domestic violence #tw murder #tw child murder

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yaoiboypussy · 10 days

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Another trans man dead. Tee Arnold, also known as ‘Lagend Billions’, was a 36 year old black trans man who was shot on April 3rd in Hallandale Beach, Florida.

Most news reports are using his legal/deadname when reporting his death.

https://www.pghlesbian.com/2024/04/black-trans-man-shot-to-death-in-miami/

#.txt #trans #transgender #trans man #transmasc #lgbt #lgbtq #current events #tw death #tw murder

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incorrectbatfam · 2 months

Conversation

Jason: Please say words of encouragement to me so I don't murder someone right now.

Duke: There is no WiFi in prison.

Jason: Thank you.

#source: tumblr #jason todd #red hood #duke thomas #signal #batfamily #incorrect batfamily quotes #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #incorrect quotes #incorrect dc quotes #dc comics #tw murder

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prettybabybaby · 1 year

Note

Perv! Ethan jerking off while on the phone with you, possibly while you're crying to him about how your date stood you up or something.

again, not exactly what you asked for but this is what came out so.

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: murder, dark!ethan landry, fem!reader, male masturbation

¡ scream masterlist !

your breathing was short and shallow, the strain on your throat clear even over the static sounds of the phone. he could picture you sat in the small space between the post of your bed and your closet, knees up and teary face tucked between them. he pictured your bunched up skirt that had undoubtedly slipped down your legs, pooling around your hips and exposing a sliver of your delicate panties. he let himself wonder what kind you wear.

ethan struggled to keep his own breathing level and push down the whimper that wished to voice his pleasure. his grip on himself was tight, loosening slightly with every twist of his wrist as he kept a slow but steady pace.

“i just,” you let out another sob, “i wanted it to go well. i got dressed and everything…” your began to sniffle again, “and he left me there. all alone. no text… nothing.”

“i’m sure you look gorgeous,” he forced out when you began to cry. god, why did you sound so perfect when you cried? “f-fuck, he, he wasn’t worth your time, beautiful.”

blood was rushing south in intense waves, stiffening his cock almost painfully and causing crystal beads to dribble out of his tip and down his shaft, lubricating his strokes that were becoming more and more frantic.

“i’m still so worried, e,” you whimpered, “with the killer loose…”

ethan glanced around, pumping furiously as you continued, “it’s so scary, isn’t it? anything could happen, no one's safe." you were. "not even him... god, i hope he's okay."

his grip on his phone tightened, trembling as he worked to restrain himself, the task much harder now that he was so close. his hips began to lift, meeting his fists as his eyes flickered around the scene in front of him. the empty eyes, the crimson liquid pouring from parted lips, and the still chest of your lover. your sweet voice confiding in him, trusting him with your concerns and feelings of pain when he was the cause of all of this made him shiver as his cock pulsed in his grasp.

he had gotten jealous, he had followed your date home, stalked him, plotted his demise right under your nose. and here he was, plan executed and not an ounce of remorse. in fact, he'd go as far as to say he enjoyed it.

ethan chuckled, humorous and breathy, "yeah." he couldn't hold back a strangled moan when your sobs started up again, little hiccups disrupting them.

"e," you whimpered. the whine of his nickname had his hips thrusting pathetically, lip tucked between his teeth and grip tightening. "please." his stomach fluttered, orgasm just over the edge. he forced his eyes open, only managing to crack them open, but the bloody scene in front of him was still visible. lifeless and unmoving. no longer a threat.

"i need you..."

his teeth punctured his plump bottom lip, filling his mouth and flooding his taste buds as he came, sensitively trembling as spurts of his seed shot out of him, a thick stream falling down and over his fist.

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