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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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MW2 Reaction to You Asking Them to be Gentle

Warnings: 18+ (Just To Be Safe), Non-Graphic Depictions of Smut, Implied Consensual Dub-Con, Dominant MW2, Jealous MW2, Slut-Shaming, Strap-On, Shock Collar, Implied Infidelity (Nobody’s Actually Cheated, it’s Just for The Bit), Age Gap (Price), Restraints, Slight Implied Dumbification, Implied Threesome, Petnames, Profanity No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Aw, am I hurtin’ you, Love ?” he asks, ceasing his pace for just a moment. His body is hot and thick behind you, a wall, a barrier.

When you nod, your eyes glistening with budding tears and your hands gripping the bed sheets, Simon places a hand upon your cheek. Gentle. His thumb strokes your chin, and his eyes are kind.

Until they aren’t.

They sharpen in an instant, and, without warning, he pulls back, inch by inch, and slams back in. You yelp, winded, wincing at the pain revitalising in your lower half. But he doesn’t let you flee, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to take all of him.

“Should’ve thought about that before practically sitting on Johnny’s cock, you little fuckin’ whore,”

It doesn’t matter how many times you try to tell him that Soap had pulled you into his lap as a joke – a gesture of friendship, not a phallic item or intention in sight – Ghost isn’t having any of it.

“You won’t even be able to sit down without thinkin’ of me,” he says. His eyes dark, he growls, pulling back for the killing finish. “Or I’ll just have to put the fear of God into you again,” And he slams in, harsh, unflinching, sharp. And you scream, your vision turning white as you reach your end.

König

“I know, Engel,” he says, breathless. His eyes are piercing, fire and ice. And a thin, cruel smile stretches across his face.

Before you can react, even hope to retaliate, he takes your wrists beneath his hands and pins them above your head. You writhe and you struggle, only to be met with a low moan from König.

“Don’t tempt me, Darling,” he says. “Or I won’t be able to control myself when I snap,”

You can tell by his tone that he’s not letting you off easily. Not after your ‘flirtatious’ conversation with the barista from your excursion into town earlier.

When you feel tears prick your throat, König shushes you.

“Oh, shh, Engel, it’s too late for tears now.” You swear you see his eye twitch. His body bears down on yours, scorching and heavy and impossible to fight.

He lowers his head beside your ear, and, sibilant, licks the shell.

“Besides,” he whispers. He grinds into you. Slowly. Warning.

“You wouldn’t want to encourage me now, would you ?”

Soap

“Oh no, Bonnie; the time for kindness and compassion is over,” Johnny said as he tightened his belt around your wrists, pulling it so escape was a distant dream for you. He had you caged beneath him, a smile curved with a certain brand of unscrupulousness only he could wear at his lips.

“After all, what did you say to Simon again ? That I’m ‘gentle as anything’ ?” The second you’d said it, no matter how innocent your intent, you knew you shouldn’t have. If Simon’s gaze flickering to your boyfriend, who loomed just over your shoulder, was anything to go by, you knew the end was nigh.

“Do you know,” he took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him, making you wince. “How many people I’ve killed ?”

Your heart dropped. Soap – for this was no longer the Johnny you’d come to know and love – released a brief, almost incredulous laugh. “D’ya think they’d call me gentle ? Loving and sweet ?”

Shaking your head, you hoped that by playing along you could negate whatever was coming next. Of course, any and all efforts would be in vain.

“Well,” Soap glowered, his hand encompassing your jaw, gripping you. He ground against you, growled. “I suppose I’ll just have to give you a demonstration, won’t I ?”

Valeria

“Oh ? Gentle ?” she says. Her voice is low and dangerous – you know because you’ve accidentally seen – heard – glimpses of her interrogation tapes. You know what’s coming for you – especially when she has your face pressed against her desk, her strap-on dangerously close to penetration, though hanging just out of frame. A threat.

“Is that what you thought I was going to be when you let that slimy, arrogant prick of a bartender slobber all over you ? Practically let him bend you over the counter and fuck you raw,”

Negotiation with Valeria is impossible – something else you’d gleaned from her tapes. And denial is even worse. But admitting to what she was accusing you of would be the signature on your death warrant. And she knows she has you cornered.

You can feel her tip prodding your hole. She didn’t even bother to lubricate you or prepare you.

“Shouldn’t need to. What, with that bartender already having done that for me.”

She knows the bartender did no such thing, but feeling you cower beneath her is too euphoric for her to even comfort you.

Without warning, she slams into you, only stopping halfway when your body refuses to take more of her, her obscenely long strap-on too thick for you to even fathom as you cry out, scream, tears falling to the desk’s surface beneath you.

Price

“You think, after all you’ve done, that you deserve my mercy ?”

Price’s grip on his belt was palpable, tightening, making the leather whine and whimper in his grasp. You could feel his teeth gritting, his stare hard. His voice held a cynicism you’d scarcely heard in his tone before. Not directed towards you, anyway.

“You go and chat up another guy and you have the audacity to believe that you’re worthy of even an ounce of my sympathy ?”

The context behind Price’s upset was all rooted in misunderstanding; he’d seen some younger, attractive guy chatting you up, and you, trying to be polite until your boyfriend returned, smiled. Which, in John’s eyes, was reciprocation. And now, you were paying the price.

“Tell you what,” he said, his stern features shifting to portray ill intent, an idea sparking in his mind. He lunged, grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you down the bed – closer to him. His belt remained gripped in his other hand.

“If you can take – say – twenty lashes, and count them – without missing a single one – I’ll think about being gentle.”

He brought his belt down on your thigh, making you cry out. “And then you can tell me all about how he’d be gentle with you – how he could unravel you like I can.” His gaze, dark with the oncoming storm, narrowed. “How he can have you like this.”

Horangi

“Is that what you said to König when he had you like this ?” Horangi hissed. He had you pinned beneath him, eyes blackened with the false conviction of your infidelity.

And, try as you might to ease his misunderstanding, to remind him that he’s the only one you love, you hear something.

The squeak of hinges, the swinging of the bedroom door opening.

You couldn’t see – think – for Horangi’s frame bolted to yours, but through the rushing of blood and Horangi’s beration, you heard a most unmistakable tone.

“Liar, liar, liar,” came König’s voice, punctuated with three broad, heavy steps. He loomed over Horangi’s shoulder, arms behind his back, the smile of deceit a tune upon his face.

A slinking, sly smile threaded Horangi’s lips as he kept his eyes on you, turning his head to address König. “I’ll see how much truth I can get out of (Y/N) first,” he said, and, like a soundtrack, the sound of König’s belt sliding from his pants lay a dark undertone – the instrument. “Then it’s your turn.”

One hand collecting your wrists, the other tearing the belt from his jeans, Horangi gave you his full, undivided attention. As did König. “Seeing as you’re so desperate for another man on the side,” said Horangi, “Let’s see how you take both of us.”

Alejandro

“Don’t lie to me, mi Corazon,” Alejandro says, ignoring your plea, one hand around your throat, the other on your thigh, grasping, groping, grabbing at your skin.

“I saw you – whispering in his ear, telling him God-knows-what,”

Alejandro is on top of you, his weight an immovable object, his stare dark and unforgiving. You can feel him sat just out of reach of your epicentre, but not out of bounds.

What he’d seen was you, smiling, whispering into Rudy’s ear about something sultry. What had actually happened was you were confirming the details of Alejandro’s surprise birthday party with him, smiling because you were so excited to get it organised.

But you couldn’t tell Alejandro that; it would ruin the surprise !

When Alejandro’s more tame efforts to get you to talk proved fruitless, he took to his preferred method of extraction.

He ground against you, letting out a low, shuttering moan.

“You can’t hide the truth from me forever,” he said, with all the conviction of one who has only ever known truth. “So if you’re not gonna tell me while you still have your faculties,” He squeezed your throat, his other hand slithering up your thighs, stopping shy of your centre and unbuckling his belt.

“I’ll just have to force it out of you. Break you down until you’re nothing but a fuck toy.” His eyes are almost black now. “My fuck toy.”

Rodolfo

“Next time you want someone gentle, why don’t you go running to Alejandro, seeing as you seem to like having him slobber over you.”

You couldn’t argue back, couldn’t defend yourself, your mouth gagged with a t-shirt Rudy had tied around your head. You couldn’t even unravel it, Rodolfo’s hands pinning yours beside your head as he pressed into you from behind.

“Hm ? Got nothing to say, mi Corazon ?” Rudy sneers. “Pity, seeing as you couldn’t shut the fuck up around your boyfriend earlier.”

As if to drive the point home, to hit the nail on the head, he rammed into you, making you whine, the shirt soaking up your cries and your drool. Your eyes shone with tears, but you dared not cry – not around Rudy. Not while he had you at his mercy.

“You won’t stop until you have all of us wrapped around your little finger, will you.” he said. It wasn’t a question, nor did he allow you to answer as he slammed into you again. “Luckily for you, I’m a good man. One who knows how to handle injustice when he sees it.” His grip on your thighs was almost painful, and were it not for the reluctant euphoria building within you, you’d have tried to break free.

“It’s up to me to force it out of you – to erase that entitled mindset of yours.” He pulled out, forced all of himself back inside, sharp. His breath shuttered while yours choked, your scream caught in your throat.

“Don’t worry, Ángel,” he breathed, lowering himself so his lips were to your shoulder, pressing a deceptively soft kiss there. “By the time I’m done, there won’t be a single thought left in that brain of yours apart from me.”

Graves

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Whore – you lost that privilege hours ago,” Graves says, threat heavy in his voice. He stands over you, face awash with a dense egoism you know is only worn when he has decided to take his frustrations out on you.

And today is no exception.

The collar about your neck is a reminder of all that you stand to lose should you fail to comply with Graves’ vision – your freedom; made excruciatingly clear to you by the locked bedroom door behind him, the key hanging in the lock.

No matter how you try to reason with Graves, he is having none of it.

“Shh, Sweetheart, now’s not the time for tears–” he says. The threatening tone in his voice remains, only the name he calls you changes. And the more endearing they become, the closer to danger you are.

He slides open the bedside table, reaches in and withdraws a pair of silver handcuffs, clinking together with a deceptive veneer of gentile.

“If you wanna get on my good side again, you have to do exactly as I say, precisely when I say so.” He cocks his head, a slim, coy smile spreading across his face like a disease. “Y’understand, Beautiful ?”

Gaz

“Gentle, gentle – is that all you have to say for yourself ?” Gaz spat, pacing back and forth before you as he kept a keen, sharp eye on you. “After everything you’ve done tonight, you think I’ll let you off easy ?”

The ‘everything’ Gaz was referring to had been your efforts to get a reaction out of him. Bending over at inopportune times, accidentally only wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers while the rest of your clothes were in the wash (or had mysteriously vanished.

And, your worst offence, sitting under his desk while he held a very important online call with Captain price. All the while, you’d poked and prodded and stroked him, tested his resolve, his patience.

And, evidently, you’d gone too far.

With the remote to the shock collar squeezing your neck attached to the very fibres of his hand, Gaz held all the cards, your sanity the Ace of the deck.

Before you could try to defend yourself, a thin spark sent you yelping, made you jump. Your hands flew to the collar, trying to pull its rounded teeth — the conductors – from your skin.

Gaz only smiled. “Oh no, Love – I won’t be gentle,” his tone was low, a serpent in the grass, his visage matching as he lowered himself to your level, eyes aglow with a piercing darkness. “If only you’d behaved, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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xjulixred45x · 2 months

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♡I saw your Akaza reader headcannons and i loved it!!!:D what about a Gyutaro reader? You can choose if daki should be involved or not, that's all up to you!(I love your blog☆)

THERE'S NO GYUTARO WITHOUT DAKI! I'LL TAKE IT!! but it's a little short😅 more like a Drabble.

Imagine having had the same kind of life as Gyutaro. being the son of a prostitute, constantly being rejected for your appearance, living in poverty and having to eat insects, even your own mother wanting to get rid of you. that was the life life of Gyutaro!reader.

Gyutaro! The reader got used to living on his own, to having to resort to dirty tactics to stay alive, well, how else was he going to do it?

That's what he thought until his sister, Ume, came into his life. and everything took on a different color.

Ume was his pride and joy, since finally there was someone in his family who loved him sincerely and did not want to hurt him, however Gyutaro reader was very protective of Ume. teaching her his ways to survive. that together with his sister's beautiful appearance, made them prosper.

until no longer...

Ume one day stabbed a Samurai in the eye, they tied her up and burned her alive...when Reader was not there...when he arrived he was ambushed by the same samurai. killing him.

This is how the sibilings got to Hell.

The brothers became prominent Overlords, Gyutaro Reader with his brute strength and Ume/Daki with his charms and beauty, having many souls in his repertoire.

I highly doubt that they want to help the hotel, honestly. but I can see them having a kind of rivalry with other demons relevant to the plot, such as the Vees, since they are precisely considered their "replacement".

Alastor has known the brothers for quite some time, they have been in Hell before him and he definitely knows not to underestimate them. Of course, he doesn't consider that they are at his level (egocentric HDP) but he definitely doesn't have time to mess with them.

Finds Gyutaro reader's greedy attitude very interesting and funny, he believes he will go far, although first he should bathe more often and stop hurting himself so much! He sees his constant envy to others as good "fuel" for his success!

Alastor can definitely handle Ume/Daki's attitude well, although, with all due respect, he thinks she's the most insufferable lady he's ever interacted with in his afterlife. although again, she is charming in her own way.

Charlie really wants to believe in them, seriously! but... they don't really give you a good reason to do so. Gyutaro! reader is not like Angel on the level of "fucked up but he's good underneath it all" NO! is "FUCKED and only good with Daki/ume, the rest? Screw them!" and Gyutaro reader's jealous tendencies along with his aggressive attitude would make OBVIOUS that Charlie would not consider him a good candidate for the hotel.

with Daki/Ume, on the other hand, she could have a good relationship if she hits the right places (her ego) and thus have them as allies, play with her to dress up and buy luxurious things together (Charlie could even know a little more about how they ended up in hell like that). In general, much more manageable for Charlie than his brother.

Vaggie DOESN'T LIKE either of them, period. believe that Gyutaro! reader is an idiot and his sister is a spoiled brat. but when she gets into a fight with Gyutaro! reader after he learns that she "made his sister cry," Vaggie understands the depth of their bond a little better.

Lowkey, she thinks they are good siblings, but terrible people. She won't think twice before taking out the angelic spear and pointing it at them to defend the hotel from them. nothing too personal. really.

Angel Dust meets Daki/Ume from the entertainment district area in hell, both are well known and considered Sex Icons, so for quite a while Angel had to compete with her for ratings, which generated a long-lasting feud.

although Angel eventually gave up because he realized that Daki/Ume's mental maturity is that of a YOUNG GIRL, a teenager at most, so he is not hostile towards her, in fact he is somewhat jealous of her for having a brother like Gyutaro! reader who supports her and protects her from people like Val. For him, may they continue like this, may they be happy.

Husk is surprisingly the one who could have a better relationship with them, simply because he doesn't get involved in their affairs and therefore they don't get involved with him. You may even function as a father figure to them that they didn't know they needed.

Husk can handle Gyutaro!reader's aggressiveness (with food) and Ume/Daki's whims (with sweets) better than anyone else. In general, Husk is almost untouchable in the areas that have sibilings thanks to the fact that he is on his good side. (he probably also knows how young they died, so he unconsciously spoils them)

Sir Pentious is afraid of them, clearly, he doesn't want to be near them. yes Gyutaro! reader is close HE STRAIGHTENS UP immediately and doesn't make a sound. If Daki/Ume is around, he does everything he is told WITHOUT EXCEPTION.

Ironically, thanks to this, they find him funny and do nothing to him, even (along with Husk) he is one of the few characters in the Hotel that really amuses them. so KEEP LIKE THIS PENTIOUS!

Niffty....Gyutaro! The reader stays away from her, he only tolerates her for being Alastor's maid, but she gives him the creeps (remember that Gyutaro, apart from being a ✨BadBoy✨, looks like a Mantis).

ironically Daki/Ume enjoys spending time with Niffty to play and dress pretty. two mentally unstable women living together! What could go wrong :)

In general, most respect their Overlord status, and don't really want to mess with the indestructible duo. they know! They mess with one and they're screwed✨

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

#headcanons #male reader #gyutaro #gyutaro and daki #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel charlie #hotel hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty #hazbin vaggie

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willshipanything-blog · 5 months

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Breaking the Rules- Chapter 21

Penultimate chapter!! (Besides a couple little epilogue things I have planned). Al has just revealed his plan to confess his crimes- how will y/n ever stop this mad scheme?

Full tags, as well as the fic if you prefer, is on AO3 here. As usual, minors please DNI!

Full Tumblr chapter index can be found here.

Hope you enjoy lovelies! 💜✌️✨

Chapter 21- The Depths

“Take that mask off.”

The fire in your voice was low and rumbling, a biting warning that you hardly thought yourself capable of. Your initial reaction at his affixing the mask had been terror, but a scorching fury had lit inside you at the audacity of Al to try this, after all this time. You’d had enough of this.

Of Al attempting this confession, of him even thinking about throwing everything -throwing you- away after all this time. The warning had little effect and Al, wearing the familiar horns and expressionless face, came closer.

“I’m serious, Al. Take. It. Off.”

Another step towards you.

Al remained undeterred, his eerie silence reminiscent of nights spent watching silently as you cried yourself to sleep on the mattress. If he was trying to evoke those memories, it was working. Cruel bastard. You slammed your good hand on the table, but as you used the force as leverage to stand, an agony speared through your arm. Al had reached you, had gripped your hand before you could stand. The tight grip had provoked the still-tender muscles in your dislocated finger and you jolted, an electric current tearing through your bloodstream. A sibilant hiss escaped through your teeth at the pain, which had forced you back onto the chair.

“I’ve got to finish this, Y/N. To pay for my crimes.”

“That wasn’t you. It was-”

“The Grabber?” he asked, a theatrical air of incredulity heavy in his voice. “Not Albert Shaw? They’re one and the same, sweet. You need to stop pretending those are two different people,” he leaned closer, “It’s all me.”

No. You’d seen the change, that almost physical manifestation of the otherness that enveloped Al like a black shroud of fog in the past. In the past, though. He might be using the same mannerisms and voice, but this was all an act. The mask wasn’t some summoning device; it didn’t automatically call on the Grabber to appear like an evocation of some paranormal being.

“It’s NOT you, Al,” you hoped the repetition of his name might break the mad spell he was trying to hold himself in, the lie he was telling himself to make all of this seem justified. Did it make it easier to betray you like this if he played such a role?

“Stop kidding yourself. Look who I am-” here, Al nudged open the wooden box with a knuckle, plucking out an item at random (the blue choker necklace) and shaking it wildly in front of you. “Look at what I’ve done! You want me to tell you how I killed each of them? Why not read that note again, huh? Or I could tell you all the details I didn’t put in that confession.”

You’d already looked away by this point, eyes scrunched closed and head shaking, trying to refute Al’s words by purposefully ignoring them. But you knew them to be at least somewhat true- your shameful averting gaze was in part because you had no retort, no justifiable defense for what he was saying. You felt the tears start at the outer corners of your eyes, tumbling down your cheeks before a much rougher sensation met your skin.

“Look at me!” Al roared, gripping your face between his thumb and forefinger, the course fingertips digging into your cheeks as he forced you to face him. Your eyes stayed closed. His voice again, softer but infinitely more lethal, spoke:

“Look at me, little bird.”

You opened your lids slowly, discerning those still-blue eyes behind the mask. Heavenly, you might have thought that shade, had they not been sitting beneath literal devil horns. Deep blue, with no trace of that hunger or feral rage that signified the Grabber. Al was angry, perhaps at what he thought to be a hopeless situation, but those emotions were Al’s alone. Not the Grabber’s- no matter how much Al pretended to still house that monster within him.

“Please take off the mask, Al.” It was more desperate and pleading now, spoken through hiccuped breaths, your tears still tracing downward paths down your face. You knew Al’s hardened resolve had already set like cement; unyielding. He didn’t answer you as he released your face from his grasp, finally letting go of your injured hand too.

You shook the pain away from your hand, looking up at Al, who stood silently over you. He sighed heavily and rolled his shoulders, as if sloughing off the last remnants of himself. His eyes closed behind the mask, and as he opened them, he spoke. The voice was barely an imitation anymore, any attempts at theatricality and grandeur erased by the hoarseness, that clear distress of his words.

“You gonna be my good girl one last time?”

You had no time to react before he pounced.

Quick hands had grabbed and lifted you from your seat before implausibly strong arms wrapped around your body. You’d been so numbed, paralyzed by his cutting words about that fragile dichotomy between Al and the Grabber, that his sudden lunge towards you had blindsided you.

“Let me GO!” You roared, your legs kicking wildly in front of you, your arms squashed too tightly under his grip to help you wriggle free.

“I- am letting- you go,” Al huffed from behind the mask, his winded breath the only sign of a struggle; his strength seemingly carrying you with ease across the kitchen, towards the wooden door waiting for you in the corner of the room. Once there, his arm had to reach out to twist the doorknob, yet with just one arm around your torso you were hopelessly outmatched. You pried an arm free, desperately clawing behind you, as if the possibility of ripping off that demonic mask might snap Al out of this madness. Your frantic mauling only served to bend your injured finger out of place once more, tearing a howl from you. With the wooden door open, Al’s free hand moved to muffle your groans.

All too much. The pain shooting through your arm, the tight grip around your body, the suffocating hand stifling your shouts, the dizzying ordeal of being carried back towards that prison you’d spent too long in. And the worst part of all of it: that Al had planned this, wanted- thought he needed this to happen.

It wasn’t the sick perversion of actually wanting a victim in the basement, carrying down your unconscious body like he had done nearly a year ago. It wasn’t the heated passion like he’d shown just a couple of nights ago, where he’d nearly dragged you down those stairs in a sudden burst of fury. This was an entirely different purpose. A kindness, in Al’s eyes- to keep you there one last time, to present you as the Grabber’s unwilling cohabitant. A short stint in those depths, to save you from a lifetime of being with him.

You felt your body still, felt the damp air, and realization hit. The realization that Al had already kicked open the metal door at the bottom of the stairwell. The realization that you were already in the basement. The physical pain of your injury, along with the growing hopelessness of the situation, meant that you’d not fought hard enough to stop this insanity. Another sickly sensation as you felt your body teetering, discerning that Al was leaning forward, dropping you to the floor, his weight on your back pinning you to the cold stone. Hands retracted, but the weight holding you to the floor only allowed a thin rasp of a breath to plead with Al. You’d always used your words before, unable to match the bestial strength on full display now, so you choked out your plea.

“Al, don’t. Please-”

“Enough.”

The coldness of that voice from behind was a steel blade in your back. He wrestled your hands behind you, though the pain of your twisted finger paled in comparison to the agonizing realization of what was happening. With both your wrists clasped in one of Al’s, you heard a fumbling and then a staccato rip of duct tape. The noise was enough to spur your body into a fresh convulsion beneath Al. The sudden struggle seemed to catch him off-guard, and he had to pacify you with a forceful grip on the nape of your neck, pushing your cheek into the cold floor. Still reeling, your ragged breaths unable to scream but your last bit of strength still pushing against him, and Al loosened his grip on your neck, only to push down even harder a second later. Your head collided with the floor, a dull thunk followed by a high-pitched buzzing in your ears. It was just hard enough to daze you, and when the buzzsaw in your brain came to a halt, Al had already tied your hands behind your back.

A more intimate sensation now, as Al held your bounds hands lightly. If it seemed a kind gesture, that fallacy was erased a moment later as he pulled at the ring on your finger. His ring, the gold band he’d given as a promise, was pried from you. Your finger felt suddenly cold, exposed. He’d gifted you the ring as a promise to keep you safe. But what good was that when Al saw himself as the danger? What good was any of it when you were drawn to that danger like a moth to a lethal flame?

“No more of my broken promises.” In saying that, Al couldn’t see the cruel contradiction that leaving you would be the biggest betrayal of all. Still, if he cared about promises at all, didn’t that show that he was still Al beneath that mask? Maybe there was time to stop this ill-conceived scheme.

Your body jolted again, this time with a pressure on your arms as Al grabbed them, heaving you across the room. Your bare legs scraped against the grimy floor as you were jostled before Al tossed you onto the mattress a few feet from the floor where he’d wrestled you. The familiar feeling of the damp, worn bed as Al threw you down was a sickening déjà vu. Instinct had you scrabbling back towards the wall, feet slipping on the dirty fabric until your head and hands hit stone behind you. A scene you’d seen dozens of times lay before you- Al standing there, fully masked, looking down at your weak, helpless body on the mattress. Somehow, knowing Al’s intention to give himself in, knowing you’d soon be without him, made this more terrifying than any of the earlier encounters. With the spool of tape still in one hand, Al retrieved something from his back pocket with his other, pulling out his small switchblade. Your pleas, desperate wriggling and heavy tears weren’t enough to stop his advance, and he strode over the mattress, dropping down with his knees astride your thighs, eye level with you.

“He’s not there, Al. You’re just pretending. Don’t act like the monster we both know is dead.” you croaked.

Blue eyes in the mask’s shadow looked back at you silently. The slight tilt of Al’s head had you wondering whether Al was still embodying those impish mannerisms, or whether he was really considering your statement.

“It’s who I need to be right now, dove.” His admittance that it was an act was little comfort when his refusal to give up that role was so evident, and you crumpled as he said those words. Perhaps he wanted to console you with a soft touch, but his resolve won out, and he got to work quickly as you cried to an unresponsive audience of one.

Some of the work was already complete: your bruises from Naughty Girl, taken willingly, would tell a different tale than your twisted game. The handprints still red and visible on your buttocks would be unexplainable as anything other than abuse to those outside of this room. The dirt and grime from your writhing on the basement floor was an extra little touch, more evidence of mistreatment. But Al had other lies to tell, and worked quickly to write the false tale. Your shirt first, Al tearing it at the collar, creating rips with his small blade. When he was done, there was more skin exposed than covered by the remnants of the cotton material. Your underwear next, which he whipped down your legs, discarding to the side. That image would leave no doubt for whoever found you, deducing what vile acts the Grabber inflicted upon you in this room. Hell, you even had his seed inside you from this morning. Who would believe that such an act was consensual, given the state of you now?

He seemed to think twice about his next move, before slow hands approached with the switchblade. You held your breath as Al drew near, the indecisive knife hovering over your neck, then chest, before Al chose the spots carefully. A couple of skillful nicks on your upper arms and thighs shocked more than hurt, the shallow cuts bursting with small patches of fresh red on your skin. A few fresher wounds that the Grabber had inflicted, giving more credulity to the fabrication that you were still a captive. The cuts barely even hurt. Not compared to everything else.

“Go deeper,” you sobbed as Al made a small incision above your knee, stopping when he heard your words. “If you’re really doing this, I’d rather be dead. Cut deeper.”

“No more killing,” Al said, folding down his knife and retreating it back to his pocket. “You’ll appreciate this one day, dove. You’ll see it was the one good thing I ever did to you.”

No retort you might muster would be enough to sway him, your mind too jumbled and shocked to form any sort of coherent argument. Your stomach lurched at the inescapable truth; that Al’s confession was coming to fruition, that he was about to lock you down here, and end it all.

“Shit-” Al had risen, looking towards the metal door before turning to you again. “Sorry dove- I broke the door lock. Can’t have you going anywhere until they find you.” In an instant he was on you, another stretch of duct tape unwinding with a cracking rip before he quickly wound a length of it tightly around your ankles.

“Al!” you pleaded as he secured your legs, running out of energy, out of ideas. “I won’t be able to stand it, seeing you go to jail. Everything that will follow-”

“You might not see me do any of that,” he explained as you gave a pained, confused look, “If I put up enough of a fight, if I’m a big enough threat, they might just shoot on sight.”

That dizziness returned without a fresh bump to your head, the idea of not just being away from Al, but him not existing at all…. It felt like you had no more cards to play. What else was there to say to persuade him apart from your true feelings?

“Al, don’t do this. I love-” a swift shadow lunged at you. Al’s hands moved to silence the tail end of your admission, one over your mouth and the other cupping the back of your head. He knew the pain of those words, what pain it would cause for him to hear those three words on your lips one final time.

“NO!” he cried, bringing the masked face close to your own. “You think you love me. After this, you’ll realize you hated me all this time. Then you’ll forget me, and that will be the happy ending you deserve. You don’t need me for your happy ending.” You stilled beneath him, even as the tears dripped over his fingers that covered your mouth. It really was over.

Through your tear-soaked lashes, you looked up at Al and nodded, showing him you were pacified, and he moved his hand in understanding.

“If you’re going to say goodbye, do it as Al. Don’t let my last memory of you be of this- this thing that I don’t see you as.”

Al tore the mask away from his face, obeying your final request. His eyes matched yours in their tearful state.

“Thank you, dove. For not seeing me as the monster.” And then he rushed at you. His lips crashed against yours, harsh and desperate and so full of love and loss. You returned the kiss, straining against your bonds to try and hold him there forever if it meant never leaving. But after a moment, he tore himself away and you released a keening wail. A quick rip of tape and Al covered your mouth, muffling your cries beneath the gag.

He kissed your temple before rising, walking briskly towards the door as if scared he might change his mind about the whole confession. You moaned desperately through the tape as he retreated. One last, lingering look and a final goodbye.

“I’m sorry, dove. I love you.”

And with that, the metal door closed.

If the closing of that metal door felt like a death sentence, it was the least he deserved, Al thought as it shut with a dull clang. But she deserved so much more, so much better. Even from behind the door, he heard the muffled screams of his love. It broke him to know how much she was suffering, even if she’d been through worse at his hands in the past. But the quicker he worked, the sooner she’d be free from her restraints and from the basement. From him, too.

He strode briskly through the house to the bedroom first. The first scene to set up. From the bedside drawer, he pulled out the handcuffs he’d been chained in just yesterday. One bracelet he looped through a headboard slat, the other left open on the rumpled sheets. The very picture of an unwilling bed partner. From the box in the closet he pulled out a few more things he scattered on the bed; some lengths of rope and some toys they’d played with during the game. Along with some risque underwear he’d bought her as a suggestive gift (also thrown on the bed), it painted a sordid, disgusting picture of the things he’d subjected this innocent girl to over months and months of captivity. Al could already picture the scandalous headlines he’d probably never live to read.

In the kitchen, Al placed the duct tape and knife from his pockets on the table with the mask he’d thrown on there minutes earlier. The confession, the wooden box and the alternate faces of the mask still sat, waiting to become evidence once Al finally did what was needed. He removed the pink-jeweled ring from his pinky finger- her ring, which he’d taken early in her captivity. First, as a cruel taunt that no one was coming to save her. Then later, as a promise that he’d be the savior she needed. What a hollow promise that turned out to be. Al put the pink morganite ring in the box with the other trophies, the silver band hitting the base of the box with a sad clatter. He put his own gold band inside too, not wanting to mar the ring his little bird had worn for so many months. That ring was an empty promise too, a past relic now. Al didn’t deserve to wear such a thing. It joined the other ring before Al closed the box.

He collected the photographs of him and his dove from the kitchen fridge and the frames in the living room- a few snapshots that he’d need to dispose of. Over the sink, he held a match to the small polaroid of her and him in an intimate, comfortable lover’s embrace, watching the edges blacken and disintegrate. Wisps of the photo fell into the sink, followed by tears as he watched it burn slowly.

As the orange flame began to eat away at his image on the polaroid film, Al thought about what was coming, and how he deserved every punishment. But to have gotten her so deep in this web, to give her hope of a future after he took her old life away, only to throw her back into the unknown, was just as callous an act as kidnapping her the first day he set eyes on her. Still, he hoped that one day, she would move on. She might mourn him a little, but in the end they’d be wasted tears.

The fire had all but erased Al in the image, moving to devour his dove next. It was his greatest magic trick he’d ever performed, Al thought. Though truly, more hypnosis than real magic. What was more incredible- that she’d fallen for him in the first place, or that he was pathetic enough to believe it could last?

The last scraps had burned out, and he scrubbed the sink of any sooty remains to finish his task. Al went to the white phone in the living room, picking it up and carrying it with him to his armchair, the corded wire taut, but just long enough for him to use the phone from his chair. One hand lifted the receiver to his ear, whilst the other hand reached towards the rotary dial.

#the grabber #the grabber x reader #the black phone #albert shaw x reader #black phone fanfic #albert shaw #the grabber x you #albert shaw x you #the black phone fanfic #black phone

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kerubimcrepin · 2 months

Text

Live-read: The Wheel of Destiny #1, Atcham.

You can find this article on the Dofus MMO’s site, by simply googling it.

Before I begin this post I want to acknowledge multiple things:

On the hierarchy of canonical media, web articles are like... the bottom of the barrel. I already suspected this, but season 4 fully retconning Eva's parents from the lore articles sealed the deal. For this reason, take these as nothing but the sort of canon that will get retconned at the first available opportunity.

I recently found out that the Wheel of Destiny 8, the one about Kerubim, seems to use stolen fanart by Flowerimh, which is sad. I don't know where else to put this, because I don't want to make a separate post about this. Flowerimh isn't even active anymore...

Despite these two things, let us proceed to read this article together:

So, this article happens anywhere from one year to a decade before Joris was born, and at this time, Atcham and Julith were already acquainted and spending free time together.

Spoiler alert: They are searching for Kerubim.

Keke getting called a "precious runt" is on par with the shit Joris gets called. Wonderful. I do wonder why they would search for him in Brakmar. Someone confused him for Atcham? Maybe they asked Kerubim himself, and he didn't want to deal with them, and so, sent them to Brakmar on a wild goose chase?

I will not be asking "what did he do" because, like, Fifi Pretty Calves exists. He has enough enemies to have a price on his head.

I am literally in love with him, and every single way he is described in this part of the text.

"He had a preference for sibilant sounds", "Aw, poor little puppy", "the only reason he hadn't robbed them blind is because he wanted to know more".

He was so excited.... he thought they wanted him (not carnally).... 😢

He takes a lot of pride in his work and insane behaviours.

Atcham considers himself an extraordinary adventurer and a valiant fighter. AND HE ISSSSSS. But it is interesting that besides being a killer for hire, he probably also adventures.

[Taps this meme I made about Kerubim and Atcham once again]

He was so ready to be the one people wanted to kill just once, and they ruined his whole fucking evening.

Imagine this being your day-to-day life, for decades. Just people laughing at you, laughing because you still hadn't caught on that you're the joke, and laughing when you finally understand that, and get upset.

Laughing about you behind your back, to some random stranger, too. Because they still hadn't realized they're literally talking about him.

I think this is a good time to say that I headcanon Atcham as autistic. It is simply a headcanon, but one rooted in the themes of his character. I think it is a fitting conclusion, (albeit, just like my hcs of Joris having ADHD and OCD and Kerubim having comorbid BPD and HPD, very accidental one, on part of the writers).

I could talk for hours on the way neurodivergence, disability, body issues, and violence-as-response-to-abuse intersect in Atcham's character, — or the way he hates everyone preemptively, because he knows that they will probably hurt him, yet still tries to be at least a bit kind and fair to others (....who aren't Kerubim).

I am probably not autistic, — however, I am neurodivergent, and I love & relate to him, so yeah. Always rotating this bingus in my brain.

Imagine this being your whole life.

I read descriptions of Atcham being cool and fast, and all the analysis leaves my brain as I say "awooga hummina hummina".

The fact that nobody ever wed him is literally so unrealistic, like WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't want the weird, mentally ill, neurodivergent twink.

We never see Atcham's home in Brakmar, but from the description of "tattered", and the way his bed looks in the comic panel I inserted earlier in the post, it is safe to say his home is the definition of "girlrotting". It probably smells. Bad.

Says the woman whose kindness will also be the death of her, — and her ruthlessness too.

Because of her visiting his home so nonchalantly, and their interactions as a whole, I like to view Atcham and Julith as somewhat close friends, — as close as two very emotionally repressed people, who have a huge age difference, and don't like to admit that they feel anything positive, can be.

He probably didn't mourn her, — not after she was presumed dead for ten years, and not after she died for real.

But he probably still thinks about her, once in a while.

#ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz #atcham crepin #wheel1

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year

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I know that Rhaenyra would be furious to know that her child was dating Alicent behind her back. But I couldn’t help but imagine: Rhaenyra has a serious talk with her child, and then she’s saying “That’s enough! We’re leaving tonight! And don’t you dare disobey me. I can’t believe it, that you my precious child would do that with Alicent.”

Reader: “But I don’t want to leave!” whispering “I love her”

Rhaenyra: What did you say?

Reader: I said I love her! I love Alicent and I love Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron! And I don’t want to leave.

And I know that won’t end well for Reader, but still imagine the reactions of the Greens, especially Alicent, since it warms her heart that Reader loves her

Rhaenyra: You will get away from Alicent and we will go to Dragonstone! 😡

Reader: No! I'm staying here with Alicent and my sibilings!! 😡 I love her! 😍

An Alicent passing by the discussion and listening to you say you love her: 🥰🥰😍😍😘😘

Alicent: I LOVE YOU TOO, Y/N!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍

Rhaenyra angry and screaming at her evil stepmother: IF YOU GET NEAR Y/N AGAIN I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING WHO- 🤬🤬🤬

You are interrupted by a confused Viserys shouting: ??? What is my beloved and loving family talking about?? 🤔😊

Alicent, Rhaenyra and Reader: 😄😇🤫🤭🤗

A pretty meaningless conversation but I felt like doing it lol 😉. Like, imagine back in the day when Viserys is still alive and Alicent and the Reader are having an affair behind his back? Rhaenyra will be irate. And we all know that an angry Targaryen does no good.

I like to imagine that Rhaenyra would be more comfortable with this relationship if it was just based on lust, that way she would have more against her stepmother but you wouldn't be in danger of leaving her for someone else. Don't get me wrong, she would still be absolutely mad with rage and jealousy when she found out about your involvement with the Queen but it will get even worse when she finds out that you are actually in love with Alicent.

Now she, in addition to being angry and jealous, will be worried if you are not being manipulated by Alicent. Rhaenyra can't help but worry that Alicent is trying to poison you against her. And she can't let that happen. You need to get away from her as soon as possible, and although it hurts, you may have to marry someone close to her. Perhaps Jacaerys or one of Daemon's daughters.

She doesn't want her beloved child to marry but she will if it means taking you away from Alicent. And she knows Viseyrs will agree even if the Queen tries to intercede.

The Greens would be happy for the Reader and Alicent, especially Helaena. She knows you and her mom really love each other and she wants nothing more than your happiness. Aegon and Aemond are still a little wary of all this, but once they know you really love their mother, they'll be more willing to be open about it. Criston doesn't have much to say other than that he's happy for you two, you're a good fit and he has no problem, even more so when he finds out that you really love each other.

Alicent would be completely happy and overjoyed to hear you say that you love her, because only The Sevens know how much she loves you, how much she longs and lust for you. And knowing that you feel the same way about her makes her so happy. Alicent would take you in her arms and kiss you right then and there no matter who is present and let you know that she feels the same or even more for you. Fuck, she loves you so much and you have no idea how full her mind is with just you present. It's you she thinks about when she wakes up and before she goes to sleep.

Rhaenyra angrily wanting to marry you off just to keep you away from Alicent so you can stay by your mother's side forever: 😡🤫😏😈😚

Meanwhile, Alicent and the Reader live out their passionate romance, completely unaware of Rhaenyra's plans: 😍🥰😘😍🥰😘

(Light Yagami because it seems weirdly appropriate...)

~ Lady L

#ask #house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #a song of ice and fire #hotd #asoiaf #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere alicent hightower #yandere alicent hightower x reader #concept #yandere concept

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racfoam · 4 months

Text

Hey, hey, hey guys. Remember back when I said I am writing that nynn graveyard AU where Barty gets Harry in the office and manages to Portkey out?

Well, I wrote some parts! :D

Except the parts are after Barty gets there with Harry. But they're still in that AU! So it counts! Right? ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

***

“Oh, look who’s awake.” came Crouch's voice. Groggily, Harry shot up, arm reaching for her wand on the nightdesk — nothing there — and in her lunge toward the nightdesk, she fell off the bed and crashed to the carpet. A dark, amused chuckle reached her from the corner of the room. Her stomach sunk. Voldemort.

“Where...” Harry winced at the vulnerable, hoarse sound of her own voice. Pathetic and weak. Swallowing, taking a breath, she asked, “Where are we?” “In a cabin.” replied Voldemort; Harry fought not to shake at the hissing sound of his sibilant voice, all around her like a haunting song. “It’s properly abandoned.” Harry's nose scrunched. It smells abandoned, too. She climbed up, on her knees, her back still turned on them. “Dumbledore and the teachers did a thorough search of the graveyard ten minutes ago.” continued Voldemort, talkative. “They found nothing, of course. They even went to my father’s home. Only dust there, of course.” The doors creaked open. “There you are, Wormtail.” hissed Voldemort. “I-I brought the water, my Lord," he said pathetically. Hatred rose inside of Harry. “Get him out,” growled Harry darkly. “Get him out or I’ll kill him.” Pettigrew whimpered. His shaking eyes flitted between Harry and Voldemort. Barty laughed. “As energetic as when she fought me. Careful, Wormtail, she might bite your new hand off.” Harry snarled, getting up, fists clenching, ready to pounce, “I’ll rip it off, you fucking —” “Harriet.” Harry flinched. Barty chuckled, grinning. He leaned back on the back legs of the wooden chair, rocking himself on it back and forth. Harry wished he fell and broke his skull. “I mean it,” hissed Harry, shaking with rage. “I’ll kill him, so get him out. Get Crouch out, too, because I want to smash his head into the ground.” Barty laughed delightedly. His silver eyes glimmered. “You’re free to try, my Lady.” “Barty,” said Voldemort sharply, red eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t antagonise her, or I will let Harry do what she wishes with you.” “Apologies, my Lord.”

“Wormtail,” said Voldemort, “put the water on the table and get out.” Wormtail hurried to comply. “Barty, make sure Wormtail doesn’t get lost.” Barty swung back down. “Yes, Master." Wormtail and Barty left, closing the doors behind them. Voldemort remained in the shadow, as far away from the light of the lamp. The only thing visible to Harry were his glowing, red eyes. “Why are you all the way over there?” asked Harry. “I thought you would feel more comfortable. You didn’t like me close so much you ran from me, after all.” “Well, I've got nowhere to run now, so you might as well have a go.” said Harry, spreading her arms wide in a show of mocking how many escape routes she had now — zero. She thought she saw a flick of white teeth in the darkness: a grinning beast. “Indeed,” murmured Voldemort silkily. After a moment, he stepped out of the shadow. The light slowly cast itself over him, first his serpentine face, followed by the rest of his skeletal, robed body. Harry felt her breath hitch in fear as his gaze settled on her, truly and completely.

Harry swallowed. She suddenly felt very small and very vulnerable. They looked at each other for what seemed like forever. “Drink the water, Harriet. We’ll leave for home soon.” Then he walked out and left.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #female harry potter #nynn au #snippets

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

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Some headcanons for being Deku's/Izuku's badass older sibiling (gn reader pls ^^) who always protected him from Bakugou and his "friends" when little and now being in 3rd course of U.A (in the hero class) and Denki falling over heals for reader????

oh my goodness this is such a cute idea!!! i love it so much!! i can gladly spew some headcanons for that! thanks for the request anon and i really hope you enjoy!!! <33 have a super day and stay hydrated! <33333

seriously tho all yall have such creative ideas sometimes it blows my mind

deku has always looked up to you

you were always strong and willing to fight for those you love and do it with an amazing quirk

you were born this very naturally talented hero and he just wasnt

you were always willing to help him from bakugou and his other bullies by standing up to them

you were only a few years older and were more than willing to put little bakugou in his place

making bakugou a little scared of you lol

but when you got into UA, you were so focused on school that deku had to deal with the bullying problem himself

you taught him that he could be strong too and it seriously made deku much more confident for the future!

when deku got his quirk, you were baffled to say the least

you always knew him as a late bloomer... but not this late!

but you wanted more than anything to help him train when you got the chance after working for exams and training yourself

and when he ended up getting into UA, you were the happiest sibling in the world

you always believed in him more than anyone, telling him that he could be a hero quirk or not

even your mom didnt believe in him as much as you did

as you each went to do your own classes and separate training (always training together after school ofc), he would nonstop brag about you

like every chance he got in class to talk about you, he would

he would tell everyone how heroic you were and what you were doing to be the best hero ever

everyone ended up knowing about you and actually wanting to meet you

luckily, you knew aizawa very well and he thought you were a great student, so he wanted to have you as a guest to train the new UA students on how to get prepped for their future at UA

you came in and were giving a small presentation that you were working on in your class and there was a certain someone whose eyes were glued to you and more than likely shaped like hearts

denki kaminari couldnt take his eyes off of you

he nudged bakugou and said, "no one told me that midoriya's sibling was that good looking"

bakugou just gave him a weird look and rolled his eyes

bakugou obviously wasnt a big fan of you because of his run ins with you in the past, so he didnt care a bit about what denki thought of you

but denki didnt care what bakugou thought, his eyes were not going to leave you

and when you were halfway through your presentation and SMILED AT HIM??!?!??!?!!

mans became a flustered mess

so when you actually got to train with them and got to the blushing denki, he was almost braindead talking to you

you just giggled though and wrapped your arms around him to show him how to hone his power, and im sorry to say this y/n, but you killed the boy

may he rest in piece

in the future though, you did visit a lot, not only in classes, but when the dorm system started, you would visit deku's dorm a lot

thus getting you to know a lot of his classmates

you of course still made fun of bakugou

but then you started randomly laughing at denki's jokes

and then you got to know the silly lightning boy

he thought you were strong, good looking, protective, everything that he needed in a partner and really, he just fell head over heels for you

and he was unapologetic about it :)

~~~~~

mha masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

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thatsweeird · 2 years

Text

The Umbrella Academy s3 spoiler!!

-Okay i'm so fucking pissed of rn u have no idea, literally.

Five spent his whole life in that fucking apocalypse, 45 fucking years, alone, without food or water, toxic air, a fucking mannequin who believed he was human because HELLO GOOD MORNING EVERYBODY HE HAS A FUCKING TRAUMA and he has seen the dead bodies of his family multiple times, lived with the commission just to be able to go back to who exactly? his ungrateful sibilings? who? the ones who don't appreciate him and accuse him of causing that fucking apocalypse for pleasure because he has nothing better to do? as if all of it wasn't for him a fucking trauma he has experienced three times since he was what, 13 years old? Really? And not to mention that they always blame him for everything i mean fuck off honestly.

He did everything for them, literally. He pushed himself over and over again, got hit, beaten, lost an arm, nearly killed and all this over and over while they... what? What have they ever done for him? Everyone calls him an asshole as if this asshole wasn't the one who saves your life without batting an eye after disappearing. He's back after 17 years of missing (or at least for THEM were 17) and, without even sleeping, he immediately started looking for a solution. Oh poor them all.. are you lost in a timeline all alone? Well he was alone for 45 years and he was a fucking kid and I'm so sorry if he was trying to fix the mess you caused in 17 years and he took you all with him losing his strength and suffering just to save your asses so yeah, be alone in another time it's surely a fucking shit but up to 10 minutes before you were crying because you were going to die and he saved you, again.

I'm really tired of this. He's insulted, not appreciated and much more and has had a life full of shit and not even a break if not that nap in the hotel and all that for what? Try to save sibilings who don't care about him? I wonder why they can't just say thank you to him or acknowledge the fact that he's the one who puts himself out there for all of them and never gets anything in return. No one appreciates him, no one recognizes all the effort and what he went through for them, ever. Not even once.

Even in the end when Allison made that mess and everyone lost their powers, he was left alone. The others didn't bat an eye, didn't say anything and didn't even look at him, they simply allowed the brother who saved them multiple times to find himself in the body of a thirteen-year-old without powers and completely alone without even looking at him. When Allison has been bad and acted like shit all season then it's okay because she's in pain but if Five tries to save them and they make more mess then what? Then he did it on purpose, right? And he's what, just an asshole without feelings? But are they at least aware that his life revolves around their safety and nothing else? We want to talk about Luther who, again, blames Five because Sloane was not there? hello?? doesn't he know that Allison did it all by herself?? why blame him? fuck off u all honestly.

And no, this is not a competition to see who is most traumatized and who deserves more and you know what? They're fucking lucky with that because he would win hands down after not even a second because he lived 60 years of shit just for them and I don't care about who will go against me because these are facts.

Don't you agree? That's okay, of course I accept it but please don't start discussions. I recognize that everyone has suffered but it seems to me that everyone is there for each other except when it's Five because when it's him it's okay, right? So it's just the old Five who gets drunk and is an asshole, right? I look very angry because I am, believe me.

(the only one to say good things to Five was Klaus during their trip but I didn't expect anything else from Klaus <3)

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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 1 year

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You know, I still wonder what Sanzu did for being rejected of all the divisions before being put with Mucho.

For the Third division, maybe he mocked Pah for being a idiot who has always lost against Mikey. Peh didn't like that. They fought. And Pah was like "yeah no, i'm done, take him back Mikey"

For the Fourth Division, he may have spoke bad about sibilings relationship. Or he was just doing things behind the twins back, like he did with Mucho later when a gang spoke bad about Mikey. getting into trouble and all. Smiley may have been more of less patient for the two first times but…he's not the most patient. Right? “Take him back before i fucking kill him Mikey”

For the First Division. Huuu. Maybe he was in the first division at first but after the….incident…he has had some fights with Baji, spoke bad about Kazutora, fights with Ryusei and stuff like that. So Baji was done and decided to give him back to Mikey before it go too far (well according to the birthday art, they were still talking since he asked Baji how he was taking care of his hair). “it’s not going to work, Mikey, take him back”

And there, I wondered "what Sanzu did for push Mitsuya to give him back to Mikey?" Becausse Mitsuya is a angel of patience. He helped Taiju to become better. TAIJU. Well first, maybe Mitsuya has noticed that Sanzu has gotten often in trouble, by his own fault. But Mitsuya is nothing but patient. He raised two little girls since he's 10. So i imagined that Sanzu may have said that he was a only child and ok fine? Mitsuya couldn’t have knew about the Akashi Siblings. And later, Senju has tried to speak with him while Mitsuya was here….he rejected here and all.

I don't think that Sanzu has been "abusive" toward Senju at this point, i mean he raised her until a point after all, right? (even if he would hurt her physically 3 years later). So no he has not hurted her physically. But he kinda hurted her emotionally by rejecting her and stop caring (since she seems have been raised by Benkei and Waka until Takeromi come back, it means that both of her brothers left her). Maybe it was her last attempt before 2/3 years to reach him? And it's the thing that Mitsuya hates: being cruel with his little sister and make her cry? Abandonning her? Deny her existence? The fucking audacity!! "Take him back, Mikey!!" "Why?" "Because i can't work with a bad brother! At least, Taiju acknowledges his siblings existence!"

And then Mikey was like “What am I going to do with you Haruchiyo?...also what he meant when he said you are a bad brother :/"

Sanzu: it's a misunderstanding!!

Mikey: *sigh*

And he gave him to Mucho XD

I actually think the reason Sanzu was kicked out the other divisions is because he was just constant going off and picking fights by himself. I don't think he was picking fights within the division but that he was just defying orders/ refusing to work as part of a team with them and I think that's what got him kicked out. I don't see why Sanzu would pick inner division fights unless they were disrespecting Mikey which most of them wouldn't do anyway. So I think it's more likely that he was just out of control and picking fights with randoms on the streets who dared disrespect Mikey and toman which in turn annoyed his division captains since he tried to do things alone and didn't listen to them.

But anyway that's kinda boring so let's say he was picking inner division fights with his captains. I think provoking Smiley, Pah and Peh is the easiest way to get kicked out of the 3rd and 4th divisions, they get wound up easily and inner division fighting is banned so the best way to sort it out would be to kick Sanzu out of the division.

I'm actually not sure about the first division, it could be that he talked about Kazutora negatively. I mean I'm pretty sure he wasn't in toman when it happened but he likely still would've known about it. But then again as you said he and Baji were on at least speaking terms when he left toman so he can't have upset him badly.

As for Mitsuya, that is a difficult one. I don't think Mitsuya would kick him out just for being a bad sibling, if anything I think that would just make Mitsuya try harder with him, it's likely that Mitsuya never even knew though. It would be some coincidence for Mitsuya to find out. There's a chance he clashed with Hakkai instead to get kicked out. But really who knows.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #haruchiyo sanzu #tokyo revengers spoilers

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yvette-ace · 2 years

Text

𝑰𝒏 𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 [𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1] 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝑽𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑮𝑵! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

summary : in which you're asked to join the galaxy's most ruthless Sith

SFW

word count : 4.4 k

warnings ! ! : angst, gore, slight cussing, normal canon violence, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, panic attack, overall generally dark

Announcement : Hello glorious beauties! This is the first chapter of a hopefully long and in-depth Vader x Reader series! Basically, this fanfic of the beautiful dark lord is meant to revolve around his need for an apprentice to help overthrow Palpatine. That’s where you come in dearest reader! I do hope you enjoy the read and please let me know what you think!

Chapter Song

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn’t always like this.

Darth Vader. A name that incited fear into those who were so unfortunate as to hear it. Within the years of his existence, he had managed to create a reputation that repulsed and drove fear straight into the hearts of millions of galactic citizens.

Upon the star destroyer, the Executor, a living shadow itself strode forward through the long corridors of bland grey and white. A cape of pitch fluttered in the nonexistent wind, barely brushing the cold metal ground beneath armored feet. A soft hiss was emitted from the respirator built into the dome that adorned his head, every so often making his presence known from the way it would sibilate. Mask turned forward, the dark lord of the Sith continued to swiftly stride to his destination. The Sith Lord had always been a head-turner for those that helped man the Executor but today, something was amiss. Rage almost engulfed the entirety of Vader’s being, his fists clenched tightly to the point where the mechanisms in his hands screeched in protest. His boots continued to pound against the ground until he reached the large doorway to his meditation chamber. Without lifting a gloved hand he easily opened the heavily secured door, stalking into the large space, the door hissing as it closed and then locking once he was inside.

The space itself was barren and cold, except for the large black orb in the middle. Once the Sith entered he turned to his right where a hologram projector was stationed, kneeling before it and awaiting the familiar ping of the notification that someone was on the other end. He could not believe that he had let them slip through his fingers.

He was not supposed to have failed so miserably.

He should have been able to kill them all.

A few silent moments passed before the forsaken noise of the hologram filled the empty room, leaving Vader alone with a bright blue glitching image of his master, Emperor Palpatine. Once the image cleared, the raspy voice of the elder man penetrated the silence of the room.

“I see you are back from your mission, Lord Vader. I do hope that you bring good news.”

In a knowing voice, the emperor spoke, already knowing the events and outcomes of Vader’s mission. Yellow irises pierced the deep mahogany lenses of Vader's mask, seemingly boring into his apprentice's own matching gaze.

"The rebels escaped my grasp Master."

A deep frown dug itself into the face of the dastardly man, scoring deep valleys into his skin, more so than there already were. Just from the look Palpatine gave him, Vader knew he was not pleased. Not only did he know his master's emotions from the way his face contorted, but from the way the force swirled around his being, like a tempest in the midst of creation.

"You have failed."

Once more he felt the utter disappointment that came with failing not only his master but his own ambitions. Anger came flooding back into his broken body, the familiar emotion wrapping around him as his master continued.

"Do you know how easily replaceable you are Lord Vader? I am beginning to doubt my choice in choosing you as an apprentice."

The black helm that adorned the head of the broken sith turned upwards at the statement, posture stiffening as the words drilled into the back of his mind. Replaceable.

“Forgive me, my master. It will not happen again.”

The deep baritone of Lord Vader’s voice danced in the empty space of his chamber, countering his master’s rather hoarse one. He assured himself at that moment that he would not let another mistake occur. As he pondered his next move, his master gruffly scoffed in disbelief, mumbling something under his breath before opening his mouth again to speak.

“We will see about that, Lord Vader.”

With those words, the hologram fizzled out, the space instantly lighter than it was before. The man cloaked in black slowly rose from the kneeling position he had been in and turned, walking towards the large orb in the middle. Once within a certain distance from it, it opened to reveal a blinding white interior and a seat just for him. Vader took a few steps in and gently sat in the middle, a hiss of relief exiting the respirator that kept him alive.

What do I do now? He questioned quietly in the safe confines of his meditation chamber, thinking of solutions and allowing the force to guide his thoughts. The mechanism hissed around him as the orb closed tightly shut, creating an air-tight seal which then allowed the chamber to fill with oxygen-rich air, perfect for Vader's damaged lungs. Pronged extensions came from the top of the chamber, attaching themselves to the sides of Vader’s helmet and lifting with a click and a hiss, lifting the dome and mask from his head. With his helmet mostly gone, he sees through eyes cleared of the tint of mahogany, staring into the blank white of the curved surface of the chamber.

He needed a way to never disappoint or invoke Palpatine’s anger again. Better yet, he needed to rid himself of the older Sith so he could be the one in charge. But, he was not strong enough on his own to do so, he needed help, but who would be powerful enough to do so? If Palpatine had taken him as an apprentice to overthrow the Republic all those years ago... then possibly the solution to Vader’s problem was an apprentice which he could teach and he could lead to overthrow his master.

Without a second thought, the sith closed his golden eyes and reached out into the force around him, beginning his search for something strong... something powerful that he and he alone could use for his benefit. Vader knew that as he began meditating it could take him months if not years to find a force-sensitive that would be willing enough to become his apprentice, but still, he tried.

The man’s patience when it came to things he wanted was significantly greater than the normal amount when it came to those who served underneath him. For those unfortunate souls, if a single mistake was made, their lives would easily be taken from them and a new officer would step in to take their place. Vader exhaled at the thought of incompetence and let himself sink into his chair.

As he let himself breathe in the relaxed and relatively safe environment, he let his spirit wander into the force, on a hunt for another force-sensitive. There most likely was a very low chance of finding one today, however, he would still try. Without warning, the air around him became tense, his damaged throat tightening at the raw power he experienced.

What is this..? He felt discomfort creep into his weakened body but he pushed forward, allowing himself to follow the force to the source of the power yet as he got closer, the more he felt the pressure to retreat back into his shell. Intrigued, he pressed more into the intense strength, following it across the galaxy to the place of its source. Abruptly, a wave of force emitted from a planet not too far from Endor, one thing notable about it was that this wave of force was rather cold. However, Vader was pushed out of meditation from the intensity of the wave, which was rather odd for someone as strong as him. For a moment, Vader had to collect himself, once he did so he dove back into meditation, eyes closing once more as he focused on the exact location of the power, invested in finding the user of it. If he could find the user and persuade them, then this would be his saving grace, if all went as planned.

Vader went back to that familiar ice ball and searched through the force to find the remnants and trace of the force-sensitive, almost instantly locking on to their exact position. Amber eyes opened once he revealed the source and a mechanical whir filled the dome as his helmet and mask were firmly clicked back onto his head.

As swift as he entered his meditation chambers, the dark lord exited them, striding to the bridge of his personal star destroyer. As he entered those focused on flying the ship turned their heads, noticing the demeanor shift in the sith lord. Assuming that he was about to give directions like he usually did, they awaited with open ears to what he was going to say.

“Set a course for Hoth.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright Hamdel, I’ll see you during our next session. Until then.”

With that you pressed a small button on the round device, relieving your eyes of the blue hologram. You had just finished your final client of the day, Vice Admiral Alerah Hamdel. Since your business consisted of mostly imperial officers, it was not uncommon that you had to deal with a number of contacts that solely came from star destroyers across the galaxy.

You had met Hamdel in a cantina on Coruscant many months ago. You had found him drinking his credits away alone in a corner. This memory bore itself into your mind as you ruminate about the previous conversation held between the two of you. During that time, he had been going through the loss of his wife, leaving him in a state of utter despair.

It happened in the middle of his training at the Imperial Academy, a thief had broken into their abode and slaughtered her when she tried to defend herself. Back at the cantina that day, Hamdel had told you the basics of the event and in a compassionate act, you had in turn told him that you could help. Being one of the only therapists in the area that specialized in loss, trauma and depression, you reached out to him and gave him your contact info.

“He has come such a long way, his spirit is strong.”

It was now years since the event had passed and now he was stationed upon a star destroyer halfway across the galaxy. Thank the maker above you had a hologram projector that was still in date. Sooner or later you would have to leave the cold safety of Hoth and find another model to use, but for now, the circular device that was no bigger than the palm of your hand would suffice.

For a moment you took a second to breathe, feeling the shift in the force as you relax at your desk. The more you thought about the depressing circumstances of Hamdel, the more your own past attempted to wriggle into your thoughts. With this in mind, you decide it is best to take a moment before dinner to meditate in the confines of your quiet room, the only noise that permeates is the whirling of snowflakes against your durable windows.

Dragging your tired feet along the ground you make your way to the bedroom of your small home. This building had been abandoned when you arrived on the ice planet but after a few months of rebuilding, it had become a suitable living space for a single person. You had spent tireless hours reinforcing the building's walls and installing insulation with much difficulty, but the work proved to be effective as you now sat in the well-heated bedroom.

Sitting cross-legged on your rather plush bed, you rest your hands on your knees, eyes closed and breath hushed. After a few moments of breath control, you drift deep into the force's hold. Sometimes it helped to meditate after emotionally stimulating sessions but you could never stay this way for long.

Almost as soon as you entered into a meditative trance you felt an inkling of a disturbance in the back of your conscious being. You however shrug it off in attempt to focus more on your connection with the force. With this, you dive deeper attempting to find the inner peace you always search for. Another push through your barriers and you reach one of the deepest points in your intangible consciousness. This was where you had locked all of the traumatic memories of your past and as long as they stayed in this realm, it would never happen again.

Without so much as a warning, however, emotions surging from those past memories envelope you, causing you to let out a startled cry of pain. Glimpses of your past bombarded your vision almost as if you were reliving the events in full detail.

Your physical body began shaking as you sat on your bed, eyes squinting as you see glimpses of the hot red dampness that coated the walls, ground and your own hands. Images of the body that lay in the crater of the wall it had been thrown into.

Your stomach churns at the mere memory of the smell of iron. Attempting to pull out of the deep clutches of your past, your intangible self ran through back to the barrier in which you had created in the first place to keep the memories at bay, finding it shut tight. In a panic you press your hands against it, willing it to open for you.

“No... come on, open!”

You grunt and press harder into the shimmering barrier of your mind, letting out a yell of frustration as you do so. Your physical self begins to hyperventilate as you feel as if you’re becoming trapped within your own mind. Perspiration clings to your skin as you try harder to escape it, fists now pounding against the barrier with such strength it begins to ripple through the force, softly at first and then with such intensity that the shimmering wall between you and freedom begins to crack.

With a final push, you slam your fists once more onto the barrier, and like glass it finally shatters to pieces, leaving you running through the force and back into your own physical being.

With a start, your eyes open, tears streaming down your cheeks and wetting the collar of your attire. You are still hyperventilating but for now you know that you are safe. Your arms come up to hug your chest tightly in comfort as you hunch over on the bed, sobs wracking your frame.

“I didn’t mean to, it was a mistake.”

Realizing the damage you have done to your mental barrier, you take a moment to shield your signature once more, praying to the Maker above that no one had felt the ripples of disturbance within the force.

Taking a few moments to collect yourself and attempt to harness your emotions, you stand from your seat on the bed. You feel exhausted. Sometimes you forget how the force works, utilizing your energy in more ways than one.

After you take that much-needed breather, you make your way into the kitchen and check the time. Looking toward the clock that is suspended from the wall you're astonished to find that you had been in that meditative state for almost an hour. You blink and nod your head, impressed at the passage of time.

A growl came from your stomach as you were glancing at the clock, noticing how hungry you had gotten. With a shrug you made your way over to a collection of cabinets, opening one of them and pulling out a rather light canister of rations. Opening the canister you realized how low you were getting, frowning at the sight but taking enough out to suffice for a simple meal. You easily whipped up a simple stew on the stovetop using the rations you had and waited beside it as it boiled in the copper pot.

As you waited for the stew to finish, your mind wandered to the interior barrier of your mind, hoping that the damage you caused it wasn’t too devastating. As you thought about it, you realized that when you broke through it you may have damaged it enough to have those visions become commonplace in your day-to-day life. Groaning at the thought you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“That most certainly cannot happen, it would ruin all of those years of suppression.”

For a therapist who deals with trauma, the one thing you could never properly handle was your own childhood experiences. They were much too painful to remember which is one of the main reasons why you built up those blockades in the first place. Those along with your signature barrier were your saving graces throughout the years.

Never once have you been unable to escape inquisitor forces or empirical protocol when it came to the minor things. Being force-sensitive had its ups and most certainly its downs, but you were never one to take those for granted.

The bubbling in the pot was what brought you out of your pensive state and as you grabbed a bowl you tried to shake off the intense feeling the force was giving you. It was almost as if something was wrong in the galaxy, but you paid no mind as you set the bowl of freshly made stew on the table, sitting in the single wooden chair that you had to match the table.

Upon the first bite into your meager meal, you notice that the liquid in the bowl ripples as if an earthquake was beginning to shake the table. Your eyes widen in surprise when you hear an accompanying sound, something akin to a ship exiting hyperspace. Fear replaces your surprise quickly when your eyes flicker outside of your window to glance at the sky, now filled with the shadow of a massive carbon black star destroyer, the deep rumble of its engine filling your rather sensitive ears. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been so close to a star destroyer, however, this one’s engines seemed to be immensely louder than that of previous ones.

“What the kriffing hell is that?”

As you curse under your breath, you can make out the outline of an imperial shuttle... and it’s heading your way. You feel the force swirl around you in warning as it approaches, slowly descending into the snow a couple hundred meters from your home. The good thing about your base of operations was that it was built into the side of a sheer snowy cliff that gave you a perfect view of the surrounding snowy plains, but the disadvantage to this was that it was in clear view of anyone close enough to see through the heavy snowflakes that flurried around the plain. You took a deep breath and stopped watching the shuttle as it descended, your fear almost paralyzing you in your seat.

You swallowed thickly in anticipation as the force only grew more intense. Who was outside of your home? What was their motive? Had they found out what you were? You continued to ponder these intense questions until you remembered that crucial point in your meditation.

“The ripples... oh Maker above.”

Your body tenses up as you wait in agonizing silence for your fate to be dealt to you...

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I want the building surrounded, make sure no one escapes but do not kill, have your blasters set to stun.”

Words laced with contempt escaped Vader’s vocoder as he barked out orders to the battalion of stormtroopers he had brought along with him. It was a wise decision to come prepared for a force-sensitive being such as this one. Vader was rather lucky to have sensed the ripples through the force at that exact moment, or else he may have never been able to find you. As the troopers began getting into their positions, death incarnate himself began trudging through the pure white snow on his way to your front door.

At first, he would propose a partnership, master and apprentice where he would teach you the ways of the dark side. If you accepted then this would be much easier than he expected, but he did not expect total compliance for someone who had been hiding from the Empire for Maker knows how long.

When the dark lord made it to the doorstep he rose his leather-gloved fist and uncharacteristically rapped the metal knuckles of his fist on your door. With his cape billowing around him in the sub-zero temperatures, he patiently waited for you to open the door and let him in.

As he waited his mind wandered to the second and more unsavory option.

“If they do not join me, they will die a meaningless death.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You jump as you hear the rather soft knocking on your door, curiosity entering your mind as you wonder what imperial officer would knock so quietly. You stand and push your lone chair in before making your way over to the door rather slowly. In an attempt to figure out who might be at your door, you call out to the stranger beyond your home.

“Who... who is it?”

You wait for a few moments before realizing that they weren’t going to answer so you do what any normal sentient being would do. Your hand grabs the doorknob with ease and you pull open the thick wooden door.

When you do your eyes travel from the bottom up, first noticing the black durasteel boots that adorn the officer's feet, then the leather-clad thighs and the heavy-set steel belt resting on their hips, a saber, barely visible, dangling from the right side. From chest level, which was about eye level for you, you watch as lights flicker on and off, almost mesmerizing you, but you continue upward. Their shoulders carried a single pauldron that was connected across their upper chest and neck and along with this was a rather thick chain that held a pitch-black cloak that draped all the way to the ground, dusted with snow from the light blizzard, and finally upon their head was a domed helmet with lenses of mahogany red that seemed to bore straight into your soul.

This hissing of a respirator followed as you finally realized the consequences of your mistake. The living shadow had found you and was standing on your doorstep. Darth Vader did not move as he stood in front of you, his respirator hissing every few moments as he merely breathed.

You lightly gasp in terror, taking a moment to collect your thoughts and attempt to think rationally. If the sith lord had wanted you dead then he would’ve already had his saber ignited and your head would’ve dropped to the floor. In the moment of clairvoyance that the force granted you, you take a few steps back to allow death into your home, curious as to his reasoning for being here. This gave the dark lord a chance to take a step inside, which he did so, ducking underneath the doorframe so as to not hit it with the top of his helm.

Still terrified from his presence you make sure to keep your guard up around him, just in case you need to make a hasty exit. Maybe he didn’t know about your force sensitivity yet.

“L-Lord Vader... to w-what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in m-my humble abode?”

Scared shitless didn’t even describe you at this point. You felt your face pale as he turned his helmet towards you, your eyes wide and filled with a mixture of terror and curiosity as you spoke the pleasantries to death incarnate. And as he replied back with those rich baritones you inhaled sharply.

“I will cut straight to the point young one. You are the force-sensitive I felt.”

You straighten your posture after he finishes speaking, your mind spinning and grasping for a proper response to his statement. If you outright told him that you indeed were force sensitive, would he kill you like he had all of the others in years past? And if you lied, would he immediately know? Deciding on the latter option, you formulate your answer and go for it.

“I apologize, my Lord, it seems as though you are mistaken.”

Without warning, Vader took two long steps and instantly had your back against the wall, his hand outstretched in front of your face. You calm your breathing as you feel him begin to probe your mind for the truth, trying your hardest to repel his advances. He eventually out waits you, your barrier giving out and revealing to him the truth about what you are. Once he receives the information that he wants, he takes a step back as you compose yourself.

“You are indeed strong in the force. Lying makes no difference in this matter, so let's make a deal. Become my apprentice and learn the way of the dark side.”

The way Vader spoke was more so of a command and you knew what happened to those who did not comply with what he wanted. In that small moment, the force swirled around you and almost compelled you to take his offer. Instead, gathering a bit of bravery you meet his gaze or at least you think you do as you stare into those deep red lenses of his. If he was going to make that proposition, then you wanted to know the other choice if you didn't, just in case you turn out to be wrong.

"And if I don't accept your deal?"

"Then you will cease to exist."

The hiss that accompanied his statement only amplified your fate if you denied it, your fear pushing you to make the choice that would either save your life or make you lose it, you did not know.

"Alright, I... I accept your deal, Lord Vader."

Silence filled the room for a moment as you wait for Vader's response, his breath ever so often causing you to shudder. The man cloaked in shadow raised his helmet in satisfaction and rested his hands on his hips.

"Good. Now come with me. You have much to learn."

Turning tail, the sith lord strode out of your home, beginning the rather cold walk to the shuttle he arrived in. You noticed that he did not stop and wait for you and quickly you sped to your coat rack, grabbing the thickest coat you have to combat the cold sub-zero temperatures before attempting to catch up with Vader, his stride still as long as it was when he exited your house. You managed to catch up to the shadow, breathing heavily from having to run through the snow. As both of you walked into the imperial shuttle, the storm troopers followed and as the landing ramp slowly began to lift back into place, you watched your home disappear from view for the final time.

@dokoni-mo

#darth vader x reader #darth vader x you #darth vader #darth vader x y/n #star wars #gender neutral reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars x you #star wars x reader #anakin x y/n #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Endless glorious purpose.

I'm back guys! Setting my mind on request that was send before. This one is for @emarich7 saying: For some reason I think Loki and Dream would be friends...like Dream would truly know Loki from his dreams and Loki would understand Dream and what he went through while caged up.

Set in the post-TVA and post-restoring Dreaming time.

Apart from one redish light pulsating somewhere In the distance the room was dark. It was hard to say whether the place was big or small or where exactly it was situated, but during his time as a god of mischief Loki has seen a lot of different tricks and shenanigans, most of them caused by him so this… this was nothing that would scare him. Black haired man grinned in his signature facial expression and with all the dignity he could gather took a few steps forward.

“Show yourself!” he exclaimed “whoever you are, I know you are here. Acting like a coward, afraid to reveal your face.”

“Loki of Asgard” cold voice sounded in front of the god “such bold words of you.”

“I am a god.”

“And yet, you are in my realm with no real power here.” Dark clothed figure, which could soon be recognized as a man with chiseled black hair come into the view eyeing the other one carefully but also with dark expression.

“ And who may you be to say so?” Loki scoffed watching the newly arrived man with the mix of curiosity and condescending “who dare to stand against me?”

“I am Dream of the Endless. King of Dreams. Ruler of the nightmare realm.”

“Oh, Lord Morphues than” Loki grinned but the smile did not reach his eyes which stayed cold

“I presume you’ve heard about me.”

“Asgardian’s stories. I remember them vaguely.” Loki raised his head and his horny helmet and green robes appeared in the place of the plain ones making him look more royal and dignified “But if you’re here what does it mean?”

“So conceited yet so unbright” Morphues spoke coldly facing Loki’s grimace. Before the Asgardian said anything more Dream Lord added “you are dreaming. You are a paradox. You should not even be here. You…. Died.”

“That was another timeline. Before I jumped the version of myself from the past here.” The god waived his hand casually

“You did what?”

“Who’s unbright now, Dream Lord?”

“Watch your tongue, God of Mischief. You are still in my domain.”

“Seems like somewhere I could fit right in.”

“ Someone said that to me before and it did not end well for him.”

“Oh yes, one of your nightmares. What was his name? Corinthian, I suppose?”

“How do you know that.”

“You see, Dream Lord, you have your tricks and mind games and I have mine. So really there’s no way for you to intimidate me.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, I’m sure. You want to bet on that?”

“I do not…. Bet. Albeit I made an exception for my sister.”

“Nice family relationship, huh? My sister tried to kill me and my brother and as a result blew up my home planet.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Interesting choice of words, Dream King. But … yes, it was quite unfortunate indeed”

“My other sibiling tried to annihilate me too. Desire.”

“Oh? Can’t imagine why” Loki mocked “you are truly a delight to be around.”

Both men were still eyeing each other but the previous tension was now a bit less noticeable as they discovered some similarities between them.

“No. I hurt a lot of people and beings that were close to me. Like my Raven.”

“A raven? How wonderful. I had an alligator version of myself, once. A real predatory animal.”

“You can’t possibly imagine how predatory this bird can me. I used it my challenge in hell.”

“Hell?”

“Yes.” Morphues’ eyes went a bit blurry at the memory “Snake-devouring, talons ripping….. Except Matthew, he’s more…. domesticated.”

“Who’s Matthew” Loki frowned “nevermind. I don’t even know why I keep this banter with you.”

“Because whether you like it or not we are alike.”

“Oh! Oh, oh,oh!” Loki gave a short, mocking laugh “you are nothing like me. I have been through too much to even start this comparison.”

“You lost your mother, your brother and you life….” Morpheus trailed

“Stop it!”

“you did not succeed in fulfilling your so-called glorious purpose….”

“I’m warning you Dream Lord…..” the god’s face reddened slightly

“And now, from what I now you are trapped in some agency called……”

“TVA”

“Right. TVA.”

“I still don’t know how does that make us similar.”

“I …..” Morpheus stuttered but upon Loki’s gaze gathered himself “your effort, however futile are…. Interesting. I… may have had some struggles myself, feeling like ….. nothing at some point. Observing you was …. Uplifting. “

“Uplifling?” Loki hissed “Watching?! Do you think I’m your toy to play with?! I AM A GOD YOU….”

“Enough, Asgardian. I came to bring you relief in your sleeping hours.”

“I don’t need any help from you!”

“And yet, I am not asking. I am giving you a gift and you shall accept it.”

“Over my dead body!”

“Seems to me like we would be seeing each other more often now, God of Mischief. After all, it was my sister who pointed me towards you.”

“Oh, here we go again with the family drama.” Loki rolled his eyes “It’s like bantering with Thor…. Back… in the days” his voice broke a little

“My sister” Dream emphasized the word “Death. Mentioned something about you being lonely…”

“What now?! You sure you're not talking about yourself? If the stories are true you spend over a cantury locked up in some amateur, fumbler, self-appointed magus. How was that?"

Morphues said no word but his eyes turned a bit glassy.

"Don't you dare, Asgardian."

"I'll tell you how it felt - helpless, raging inside, planing your revenge on everyone responsible for the situation, pathetic...."

"You are forgetting yourself."

"Nah, I'm speakign from experience. When I first arrived at TVA they locked me away and kept inprisoned, so .... been there, done that. Whatever" he shook head getting rid of the memories. "What did your lovely sister ask you for? Perhaps I can try to change her mind?"

“Coming into contact with you. She sensed this … familiarization may enrich as both. “

“I cannot possibly imagine that.”

“Then we agree on something, Asgard God. However, I will visit you again. As for now, this dream is over”.

Loki opened his eyes and found himself on the desert in the middle of nowhere in time and space, Sylvie sitting nearby.

“You were talking in your sleep.” She spat

“Really? What was I saying?”

“Something about God of Dreams?” she tilted her head frowning at her companion “oh, did you make friend during your little slumber? That is just adorable….”.

First it was the attitude of Morpheus and now mocking tone of the woman and Loki just couldn’t take it anymore.

“He is not my friend!!”

“Too bad, Death was right. Both you and her brother are in desperate need of one….”

She turned her head away, chuckling slightly leaving Loki with hundred of questions. Death came to contact with Sylvie? What the hell was all of this about?!

@somest1

@pinksirensong

#the sandman #sandman #morpheus x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #dream of the endless #marvel #loki x reader #marvel mcu #sandman x marvel #morpheus x mcu

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svampira · 2 months

Note

15 e 16 per elias e 1 e 3 per eden

Miao hi green🙏

ask game

Already answered 15 and 16 so im gonna pick 16 and 17👍

What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

Mhhh rich ppl family drama lore. He has 3 older sibilings who are 20/25 years older than him from a different mother, and one younger brother (he's named something ridiculous like. Wynd) who's 15 years younger than him. His dad left his first wife for a 23 year old swedish model (his mom), married her, then left his mom for a 25 y/o influencer when he was almost 60🤢. He was a horrible neglectful father to his first 3 children and a great dad to Elias (and Wynd😭) and he dies around a year after Elias is embraced. His dad 100% believed he had been murdered meanwhile his mom is still completely in denial (and technically right).

Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

I really don't know I think that if I don't like something I'm just gonna change it🗿 the main things I've changed about Elias is that he's a lot less evil and one dimensional than he was when he started out, he's still violent and an asshole but he now officially has feelings and doesn't kill random people for no reason👍 the other thing is that his amnesia used to be a result of trauma + his humanity dropping, and I've changed it to his sire slowly erasing all his memories while he was still alive.

Eden!!

What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)?

Eden very much started off as a. Ken to brooklyn so a lot about his design was just based off of hers. He kind of started off as the boyfriend she was gaslighting mercilessly (by trying to convince him she wasn't real) so. Reverse fight club was the first thing i considered for him.

How did you choose their name?

I just picked something I thought sounded nice😭 he's also the only decent dude out of all my ocs so giving him a heavenly name felt fitting^^

#ask #oc lore #elias lore

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kyotakumrau · 2 years

Text

2022.10.06 sukekiyo at Zepp Tokyo Diver City

Wow, just wow.

sukekiyo has no bad shows in my experience but today was something different!

Let's start from the beginning.

It seems they prepared finally enough penlights and other merch items so there were no sold out items until much muuuuuch later.

Some of the BGM was an interesting arragment of Akira's soundtrack, very cool.

Good info - many cameras today, including two cranes. So there definitely will be some footage released.

There was a see-through screen in front of the stage as usual for sukekiyo's seated shows.

Intro video - sorry I don't remember much detail besides the band's name etc.

Takumi entered the stage first, then Yuchi, Mika and utA. Kyo last.

Kyo wore a jacket with a partly open back, cropped white shirt with a huge white bow in the front, the back also showed a black bra (I think it might've been attached to the jacket). White sleeve bits added on his forearms finished with lace. Black suit pants. He had his hard slicked back and wore make up. He totally blurred the lines between feminine and masculine.

They started with 'Scarlet', it was so hard to try to stay still😂 I admit my head moved a bit... a lot😂

Sesshoku had a robot dance from Kyo.

I think in Creeper Kyo changed G.O.M.I part but until I'm 100% sure I won't say what he shouted instead😅

I loved the cute hammer with ribbons Kyo had during Aishita Shinzo (the one from the stickers). Kyo danced while holding it, the situation/story getting steamier until he snapped and used the hammer to kill the lover, taking wild swings. He even dropped the mic for a moment he got so lost in it.

zephyr was followed by a session.

Kyo placed the chair in the front of the stage at the beginning of Furesaseru, using it to dance during the song but then didn't do anything more with it, just left it there in the front.

It's a shame that SOMA the Pipe didn't seem to work tonight?

When Kyo just walked off the stage after Naburi it was quite surprising. But it was not because of the pipe as he was soon followed by the rest of the band.

Soon after that a video started on the front screen, with the Sukenori commercial from Candis MV, then we were surprised by the "Midnight Top 7" - the music program from Candis. But that's not the end. The two TV hosts from the MV actually came on the stage🤣

(thank you pure luck - I was 2nd row shimote and they were basically in front of me)

They were commenting on the week's top 7 songs as we saw the short videos for each on the left side of the screen.

no7 - Jealous Guy Sakamoto

no6 - Pika Pika Group - 'they're really oh so shiny, aren't they?'㊛

no5 - Cool Boy (Gara) - 'the hot rock ballad'㊚

no4 - sukekiyo's Mozaic Shoujo - 'new sukekiyo's song 1st apperance on the chart'㊚

no3 - sukekiyo's Candis - female host gave us the comment about sukekiyo being into metal casette tapes (like in the MV)

no2 - sukekiyo's Valentina - how amazing that sukekiyo got 4th, 3rd and 2nd spot

no1 - Sibil bashir's 'GOKUMI' aka Fujifuji's old band🤣

(and just a comment - the two hosts played quite different roles, the female host㊛ was a cheeky one (almost evil tbh) while the male host㊚ was playing a silly character)

Then they invited Takumi to join them on the stage, during the short 'interview' the rest of the band members quietly returned on the stage in the dark.

The interview

■new songs

They started the tour in August and Takumi explained that they were rearranging the new songs after the shows. ㊛: you didn't think about how the fans who heard the song then would feel??? T: We did!! We changed them for better! ㊛: the fans who went in August might be here today. They'll be basically different songs now. T: No!💦 same just better. ㊛: I see.

■Takumi's hair

㊚: Did you cut your hair, T? (we all laughed because with the braids T's hair is sooo long right now😂) T:no, it's braided. Is it different? ㊚: it's not. Do you never cut it? T: I don't ㊛: you better don't ask anymore questions.

■Sibil bashir

㊛: I'd like to ask you about Sibil bashir. You know each other well right? So you've placed 4th, 3rd and 2nd. You have to work really hard to get the first place. T: Yes, we'll do our best to not lose to Sibil bashir. (we all chuckled)

㊛Do your best with Mozaic Girl (the whole time speaking in a very unfriendly voice, making Takumi sweat😂)

㊛What a shame [they didn't place first]. Thank you for the interview💀

They talked a bit more about hair when Takumi left, but were 'rudely' interrupted with a guitar sound, 'ah the band is ready to perform'.

Kyo has changed for the 2nd half of the concert.😳

The dress he wore was so interesting! It wasn't proper white, more like very like tan? off white?, the top was basically a cropped trench coat with a lot of lace at the neck line, finished with a wide elastic part in the waist. Then he had a really fluffy knee length organza petticoat skirt, and he had bare legs, the look was finished by his pink tabi boots (he wore black shorts underneath, we could sometimes see them when he was twirling and jumping, those kind of skirts are so fun to move in). Again, a blending feminine and masculine.

He was kind of coquettish during Mozaic Girl, but finished with 'smoking' (no real cigarette, just gesturing).

And we got again an instrumental part before Candis so we could get penlights ready. I REALLY can't wait to see the footage from tonight to see how the floor looked like with the penlights 😆

They followed it with Valentina so we quickly switched to purple penlight😂

Then it was dancy, with Kyo being on fire on stage, singing and dancing. And it was softer.

And then when I heard uso and saw the end credits on the screen I remember thinking 'nooo, i don't want the concert to come to an end' and... it stopped😂 And started to rewind😂

So we were surprised again😂❤️

It rewinded the performance to land at Hyohaku Flavor😆

We also got the MV on the screen including Kyo jumping from the building and Kyo in a bunny suit. On the stage Kyo was dancing until he suddenly stopped and walked off the stage without a second look, diva like.

Gradually they all stopped playing and walked off the stage, until it was only Takumi playing 'on the broken piano'. Then he also left.

We clapped as he left, but only fot a bit before the annoumcements started

■Tour info

October 2023 ...😂

sukekiyo will have their 10th anniversary

Each place is under repair (lmao)

■MV

We got to see the music video for Mozaic Girl. Wow it's fun😆 as soon as I saw the shoulder of the bunny I couldn't help but laugh, knowing what will follow😂 I'm sure they will publish it soon, so won't say more.

I hope to see next year the other half of things Kyo wants to do but couldn't include yet! Because being not only awed again and again by the musical performance, but also being surprised, seeing a performance becoming something new, literally seeing the music video world being brought on the stage, it's all very thrilling!

#sukekiyo #tour2022 蠢く、首ったけ #attempt at live report

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thelordofgifs · 1 year

Note

⭐️ any tfs section you wanna talk about?

(director's cut ask game)

Always! Currently thinking about some of the Maedhros angst (so, like, half the fic). Of course Maedhros spent all of part 19 having an extended breakdown, but it's actually the start of part 20 that I'm particularly pleased with. By this stage he's calmed down a bit and is just really really Sad.

Left alone, he paces a contemplative circle around his study and tries to think.

Maglor's hand cold against his cheek—

Not that.

Girl discovers a minor gesture of affection can be used as a recurring angsty motif and proceeds to beat it to death, more at 10.

Maedhros is not a very good son. He thinks he was, once, at least while his father lived; but then he knelt before Fëanor's hated half-brother and offered him the crown that was Maedhros' birthright, knowing as he did so that his father could never forgive this. Sometimes he almost revels in it. With every sibilant sá-sí that passes his lips he thinks, I am not like you. I will not be like you.

Although he cannot say it aloud, he is not a very good lover. Fingon is a miracle and a blessing and Maedhros loves him with everything he is, but he knows that is not enough. He is not now the fair and charming prince Fingon fell in love with in Tirion across the Sea; and for all Fingon has changed since then too, he deserves better than the war-hardened and distant shell that is all Maedhros can offer.

But he always thought – he always thought he was, if nothing else, beyond reproach as an elder brother.

hmm so obviously Maedhros has the worst case of Eldest Daughter Syndrome ever seen in fiction (he should have won that POLL I'm still not over that) and one of the ways this manifests is... a pretty weird self-image. For a long time I've seen him as very much defining himself by who he is to others, by his relationship with Fingon and his relationship with Maglor (and with his other brothers - but Maglor is his favourite and kind of stands in as a proxy sometimes. To quote from the Gold Rush AU, which is so pivotal in my understanding of Maedhros: "We all must lay a first stone. Maglor is my first brother." just spent twenty minutes looking for that line and devastated myself in the process anyway).

Tangent over! this way of defining himself by what he is to others, and to the two people he loves most specifically, is part of why Maedhros falls apart so dramatically when Curufin tells him they are dead. But thinking about it some more, I realised that wasn't an entirely complete picture. Maedhros is also, very importantly, Feanor's eldest son. I don't touch much on his relationship with his father in tfs, because Feanor has been dead for centuries, but that bullet point about how Maedhros views him and his legacy was important here. Maedhros knows he has betrayed a lot of what his father stood for; and for the most part, he doesn't care, but at the same time it's hard to conceptualise himself as a dutiful eldest son now.

It was only ever a delusion. Amrod and Celegorm both died because Maedhros failed to protect them, after all.

But this is different. He has killed Maglor himself – no need for metaphor. He held his little brother with one arm and drove a blade into his side with the other.

Who is he, if not that? What is left of him if Maglor is gone – if he cannot be Maglor’s protector anymore, because Maglor is dead – because Maedhros killed him?

I spent a lot of time agonising over that last sentence. It means more than simply "I'm not a brother any more if my brother is dead" - it's something far more destructive than that. Maedhros' self-image is now completely in shatters because of what he's done. Being a good older brother was his one thing and now, in his mind, he has completely failed at that and hence doesn't have a thing any more and hence doesn't know who he is any more. Because if he can't define himself as Feanor's son or as Fingon's lover or as Maglor's brother then what is left of him?

A slave, suggests the voice of Sauron that ever lurks at the back of his mind, a pretty toy to adorn the halls of Morgoth, nothing of any importance.

...well. There's a fourth axis to Maedhros' self-image. And he does, I think, struggle a lot with the objectification and dehumanisation of Angband; and this is something that really disturbs him now, since he's tried to logic Fingon into agreeing with him that Maedhros is technically a thrall. This is a thread I didn't really pick back up on in part 20, but I might end up doing so more later.

Maedhros shakes himself. It was listening to Sauron’s lies that got him into this mess, after all—

But that is not true. Sauron is not here, and it was Maedhros’ own unstable mind that betrayed him.

That is not quite right either. There was no division within him, no evil spirit that took control of his faculties: it was him. He killed Maglor himself.

How can he ever begin to come to terms with that?

some good old-fashioned self-loathing to wrap up this angst session. Maedhros distances himself immediately from any attempt to justify the stabbing. Is he being unfair to himself? Yes, of course. He wasn't in his right mind when he stabbed Maglor. But as far as he's concerned that isn't the point. The point is that he's dangerous, and he has incontrovertible proof now that he can't trust himself or his own judgement.

This is not stuff that really gets resolved in part 20, which was mostly deliberate. Maedhros has a lot to reckon with! And the blows he has taken from this whole incident are going to affect him for a long, long time.

#asks #and-the-times-we-had #maedhros #the fairest stars #this is a rambly answer but I have a Lot of maedhros thoughts

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carelessflower · 3 months

Note

PART 3:

TW// Murder, and mention of abuse

Magnus knocked, as they waited, a fewclicks were heard and the door opened, revealing a sleepy Johnathan.

"Magnus its midnight." Johnathan said, as he motioned them to come inside. Another man, who stood there, yawned, and went to the bedroom.

"Boyfriend?" Ragnor questioned.

"Yeah."

"What do you know about the cops who were working on the case against my dad."

Johnathan sighed, and rubbed his eyes.

"I cant tell you that."

"What can you tell me?"

"They dropped the investigation, four of our members disappeared, wintesses either didnt remeber their statements or changrd their story, cctv images gone. Everything they worked for just went to trash."

"Who was in charge?"

"I cant tell you that."

"Fuck! Johnathan." Magnus cursed,

"Look all I can tell you is that we had a new boss come in, I cant tell you the previous bosses names, but I can tell you, you know one of them."

"Stop being crytic you asshole." Ragnor said.

"Has your dad spoken to you?"

Magnus chuckled.

"I cant tell you that." Magnus said before leaving.

"Sorry!" Catarina appologised.

(THE MORNING)

Alec awoke to Max crying, he yawned, and stood up, and walked over to the cot and picked him up. He started to sooth him, as the sunlight started peaking in through the blinds, the orange hues across the skyline.

New York was beutiful in the morning, the peace and quite before the noises of people, and cars. He smiles at the memories of him and Magnus walking through central park in the winter, hands holding and together. Happy.

He looked down at Max, who was now calm.

"bapak" Max pointed out of the window.

"Soon baby..soon."

He was intrupted by his mother who was happy to see her grandson, as Max reached out to Maryse, wanting to be held.

"Go see Magnus, I'll feed him." Maryse said, as she was now speaking to Max, and went downstairs. Alec sighed, he took out a blue faded shirt and some jeans.

His sibilings were still asleep, and he said goodbye to his son, and his mom and headed out. Questions he needed answers to filling his head, as he walked towards the appartment.

------

ASMODEUS HOUSE (MANHATTAN)

The basement was warm, the white floors clean, the white tiled walls made the room feel large and bright. A older man was tied to a chair. His left eye bruised, tired, hungry and thirsty, a few feet away from him, was a metal tray, filles with surgical instruments, covered in blood.

The door unlocked, and Asmodeus stepped in, smiling, and behind him was Magnus.

Magnus stood behind hia dad.

"Johan wordt wakker!" Asmodeus pulled his head up, a Johan was now alert, hissed in pain.

Johan eyes land on Magnus.

"Mer -"

"Its Magnus now."

Johan nodded.

"Okay! Magnus, here wants to ask a few questions, so you are going to listen and answer."

Johan nodded, as Asmodeus stepped back, and went to a cabinet.

"What was my mom like?"

"Sexy." Asmodeus repsoded, chuckling as Magnus rolled his eyes

"Your mom was beautiful, nice." Johan responded.

"Why wasnt she happy when she got married?"

"She has several miscarages, we tried, failed, so many times."

"What did you think of me." Johan snapped, eyes wide, and saliva dripping from his mouth,.

"You are a scum. Your grandparents didnt want you. je vermoordt je moeder. mijn vrouw. jij bastaard" (you killed your mother. my wife. you bastard) Johan spat.

"Im not the one you should be angry at you bitch." Magnus said crouching down. Smiling.

"je bent een ellendige oude man." (you are a miserable old man.) He spoke in dutch, the second language he learnt, from a monster.

He stood up, and spoke in his mother tounge.

"kuharap kau terbakar di neraka." (Hope you burn in hell.)

A loud bang echoed in the room, as Asmodues put the gun down, blood and pieces of skull fragments landed on Magnus's sparkled black pants. He looked up at his dad.

"He bored me. Get changed." Asmodeus said walking past Magnus.

Magnus ears were ringing from the shot, looking down he saw the blood pooling at his feet. He gagged, as he ran upstairs closing the door behind him.

"What was that? You didnt need to shoot him."

"Are you actaully defending the sicko. He hated you. He wanted you dead. You tried, so I did it." Asmodeus smiled, as he told two men to clean up downstairs. Magnus saw his father go upstairs.

(MAGNUS BANE APPARTMENT)

There was rappid knocks on the door, aa Raphael opened revealing Alec.

"I thought you had key."

"I lost it. Where is Magnus."

Chairman meowed, as the cat walked inbetween Alec legs. Chairman stretched, and went back to Magnus's bedroom.

"Magnus is out."

"Out? Its a lie in sunday, Magnus sleeps in."

"Well something happened. Come in, make yourself something to eat." Raphael said, sitting down, and eating a bowl of cornflakes.

Alec sat down, as he looked at the time.

09:47 AM

The time read.

The door opened, and in came Magnus.

"Your back, gotta go, Alec is here." Raphael said, putting his bowl in the sink, and walked out.

Magnus and Alec stared at each other in silence.

"Im sorry." Alec appologised.

"Same. Im sorry. I should have told you earlier."

"Sorry I walked out, I was angry, and confused. Are we safe?"

"I...I dont know Alexander. My dad is someone you dont want to mess with. He is a psychopath. Kills for fun, bad people dont mess with him."

"You told me you really didnt know your dad. Was that a lie?"

Magnus rubbed his eyes. He hasnt been able to sleep.

"He adopted me when I was ten. My mom..she commited suicide on my 5th birthday. I found her body."

"Im so sorry Magnus - ." Alec sat next to Magnus.

"Dont! let me finish."

"She didnt love me, my step-dad hated me, he abused me, punishments, blamed the devil. After my 8th birthday, he became really religious, and was talking to the people in ths village. One day, he took me to the river, and I fought, it was raining the night before. I threw mud in his eyes, and I pushed him, and he tripped over a log, and I killed him." Magnus felt the warmth of Alec's hands on top of his hands.

"I ran Alec. I ran so fast until a truck stopped, a guy said he could save me, take me to a safe place, he traffiked me to spain, where i was on the farm until there was a raid, I was taken to a foster home - it was a church type of thing. Jem Carstairs ran that home. He was the one who tracked my biological dad. He adopted me, at 10."

"Jem Carstairs is married to your cousin Tessa?" Alec questioned.

"Yes he married her a few yesrs later. So as I was saying my dad, Asmodeus, he took me over the world. He was a rich guy, he owned a few big law firms. He took me to his house in Manhattan. And i was fine. He retired early from the law firms and let another management in. I started noticing stuff when I was 13. You know people who was terrified of him. Me, Raphal, and Ragnor got in trouble with a local gang.. but then they appologised and left us alone. I look like him, just different body height, and skin colour. He owned a few clubs, like Sin City, Pandemonium, the hottest clubs, I was snooping and found a lot of money, I knew my dad was in deep. I just didnt know how deep."

Magnus stood up, and grabbed a glass of water.

"You said you killed someone? Was that your step dad."

He cant know - Magnus thought, he didnt trust his own mouth, so he nodded.

"Okay..you can stay at my parents place, Izzy and Jace may hate you at first, but I will tell them its fine. Max misses you."

"How about chairman?" Magnus chuckled, picking his cat up.

"He can come! Thank you Magnus. For trusting me."

Magnus smiles at him, as Alec started to pack.

His phone buzzed, as Magnus unlocked it.

A message from his dad:

**Are you free tonight? Remeber, I know where you live, I know where your friends live. All you need to do is listen and no one gets killed. Are you free? **

Magnus looked at the text over and over again, his finger above the block button. He froze, he looked at Alec, and smiles, he has a family. His friends. He wont let them get hurt.

Magnus typed a quick text **yes. wht time?** before switching his phone off and helping Alec pack his and Alec's and Max's stuff.

((PART 3 FINISHED - THIS STORY IS NOT GOING TO BE HAPPY. )

Asmodeus is more emotional abussive and Im trying my hard to get that. And I wanted both piece of show and book reference.

Part 4 may be happy.

:((( bebe magnus :(((( i want him to be happy

#ask #talent anon

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