Tw Physical Abuse - Tumblr Posts

Mascara

Toxic ex bf! Ghost x reader.

Cw: Verbal abuse, physical abuse, dub con

“Stumblin’ in at the ass crack of dawn dressed like a slag. Typical.” Simon grunts out, his hulking form sprawled lazily on your arm chair.

You freeze in your tracks, mouth going dry, heart beat creeping into your throat, and the hairs on your arm standing at attention. You’d expected something like this to happen soon. Since the break up you’d blocked him cold turkey on everything and tried your best to put the situation as far out of your mind as possible. It was impossible not to notice the signs of his impending debut back into your life though. The burner accounts that always viewed your social media stories first, the unknown number calls, and the middle aged man across the hall who’d warned you about a potential thief casing your place. It reeked of Simon, all of it.

“You need to get out of my house.” You say as firmly as you can, lips pulled tight and arms crossed against your chest, shielding your cleavage in the admittedly skimpy dress.

He lets out a dry chuckle with no humor behind it, somewhere deep in his chest before rising to his feet and taking a step towards you, causing you to reflexively flinch. A few more strides and you find yourself pressed to the door, barely enough room to breathe without your stomach pressing into his. His face connects to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His scent trail follows all the way down, dropping to his knees and lifting your dress to prod at your cunt with his nose while you’re paralyzed in disbelief and fear. He lets out a low hum and taps the outside of your thigh twice before standing, seeming satisfied with his fucked up field report.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, your voice cracking and hushed as you try to not give him the satisfaction of tears.

“Had to make sure no one else used my pussy. I know she was beggin’ for something all night with the way you’re dressed. You must be starved huh, love?” He muses, his hand snaking down to cup your cunt in his hand, rubbing at your clit with his palm and not bothering to pull your underwear to the side first.

You want to call the police. You want to tell him that you hate him and to get the hell out of your place. You want to scream at him until your vocal cords tear. However, there’s a difference between a want and a need. He’d taught you that well. Right now with the alcohol still in your system and the neglect of your sex drive for months, you need him. You need to feel the way that only he can make you feel, and you can’t tell if you hate him or yourself more in this moment.

Your resistance fades away the more he palms at your pussy and is lost all together when he rips your panties off, spitting on his hand and rubbing two calloused fingers over your puffy clit. The sparks of pleasure run up your spine and down your legs, causing them to shake and become unsteady. In an act of mercy you’re slung over his shoulder and walked to your room. He drops you onto the bed unceremoniously, pawing at your dress before finally ripping it off over your head, letting it fall to the floor.

“There she is.” He hums, running his hands down the soft skin of your belly and stopping right before where you needed him most.

“Please. Simon please just—I need—.” You attempt to say before a sharp slap to your pussy cuts you off, a strangled squeal leaving your throat.

“I know what you need. I know you better than anyone.” He says lowly, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats and underwear, pulling them down in a fluid motion.

His cock is rock hard, red at the tip and weepy. From the looks of it, he hadn’t gotten laid lately either. He leans forward and slaps the fat tip against your clit, a content smirk on his lips. You scold yourself mentally from almost sentimentalizing it. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be under him again. You should—.

Your thoughts completely clear as you feel the agonizing stretch of very little prep. A deep burn and sting in your core that promises to dissapear and replace itself with blissful fullness. He wastes no time, his hips rocking into you; fat cock dipping in and out of you as his balls slap against your ass. One of his hands finds it’s home on your throat and the other rests on your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow.

“You know where home is. Don’t cha’ baby? Waited nice an’ good for me to come back and take care of my pretty pussy.” He growls, the tempo of his thrusts picking up and causing your hips to ache from the constant slamming.

“Fuck you Simon.” You manage to choke out with all of the malice that you can, and in a moment of boldness spitting right in his face.

His thrusts grind to a halt and he lifts his hand to his face, using the back of his palm to wipe the spit off of his chin and onto your sheets. His eyes lock with yours, brows knitted together and pupils blown out like a jaguar about to disembowel a poor tapir. Immediately you want to take it back, to apologize and kneel at his feet and beg to him like a god for a shred of mercy. But his mind seems to be already made up.

The back of his palm connects with your cheek just once, leaving it red and stinging and angry. The tears that finally flow from your eyes drag muddy grey lines down your face, mascara and eyeliner. Simon seems to be spurred on by your disheveled look, his thrusts picking up again and hand returning to your face.

“I fuckin’ own you. Dumb little bitch. You need to be led and told what to do. Can’t be trusted alone. Gonna get yourself killed or knocked up by some deadbeat.” He grunts into your ear, his pace becoming erratic indicating that he’s nearing his end.

Your cunt clenches hard around him involuntarily, your thighs locking around him as you reach your orgasm, involuntarily milking Simon in the process. You’d be screaming if it wasn’t for the massive hand clamping your airway shut, which your neighbors are probably grateful for. With a loud moan Simon spills, his hips stilling as hot cum floods your insides. He doesn’t bother to pull out before laying next to you, half hard cock nestled comfortably in your pussy.

“Sweet thing. It’s a big world out there, you’d be lost without me wouldn’t you little stray?” He hums, licking his thumb and rubbing it against your cheek to try and wipe off the makeup mess.

“…Yes, Si.” You agree, full of shame and guilt.

challengers alternate universe.

trigger warning for sexual, physical, and emotional abuse as well as rape, cheating, blackmail and manipulation.

the timeline of this au takes place from 2010 to 2024 in a world where covid never happened.

art and patrick met in their freshman year of college in 2010. they both attended stanford university in california. art was majoring in sports marketing on a tennis scholarship and patrick was majoring in business. both boys decided to pursue tennis full time once they graduated, having fallen in love with the sport after just one practice. they quickly became the best doubles team in school and went on to win the juniors us open, earning the nicknames fire and ice along the way. there were rumors throughout their entire college career that they were dating, but both boys ignored the rumors. the truth was that they were dating and had been since a month into their freshman year, but they were keeping it quiet because patrick wasn’t out yet.

when they returned from winter break, it quickly became clear that their relationship had changed, and not for the better. patrick already had a habit of asking art to do things in the bedroom, and he pushed the limits of art’s boundaries until they broke. art would show up to practices with bruises all over him and he would brush them off as clumsiness or from prior practices or matches. if they suspected, none of his friends said anything. patrick’s abuse got worse and worse as the months wore on and art was looking forward to summer break so he could get away from patrick, not that he’d ever tell him that. patrick would use the fact that he wasn’t out yet to keep art quiet. if art told people about what patrick was doing, he’d be outing him, and both boys knew art would never dream of doing such a thing. so patrick was free to use art however he liked.

by the time their senior year started, art was miserable. he didn’t see any way out of his relationship and honestly he didn’t want to try. being away from patrick just made their reunions that much worse and he didn’t want to risk trying to leave and making everything worse than it already was. the day that the boys win the juniors us open, they meet tashi duncan. art falls in love almost immediately. when she arrives at their hotel room, art is incredibly relieved. the attention is off of him for a night and he wants nothing more than for tashi to stay. she doesn’t. patrick and art have sex when she’s gone and art hates it like he always does.

patrick and tashi start dating two days after that. patrick never broke up with art, but since tashi doesn’t know he and art were ever dating in the first place, it’s fine. he and tashi date for three months. art doesn’t meddle in their relationship. he tries his best to keep his head down and get through school and avoid patrick as best he can.

tashi gets injured. art is there for her. patrick isn’t. patrick and tashi break up two days after tashi’s injury. art helps her to get back on her feet and train as best she can. the three of them graduate in 2014 (tashi was at stanford on a tennis scholarship and she was majoring in sports medicine). art asks tashi to be his coach in june of 2015 and they start dating in august of 2016.

in 2017, art and tashi get engaged and are married in august. lily is born nine months later, in 2018. art’s tennis career has taken off. he wins two australian opens, two french opens and two wimbledons in the next two years. tashi’s coaching is getting more and more ruthless and she’s becoming less and less like the tashi art fell in love with. he and patrick are still meeting in secret and tashi and patrick have also started meeting in secret. they’ve been meeting since art and tashi got married. patrick uses lily against art, threatening to tell her and tashi what art has been doing and with who if art ever refuses to see him.

in 2023, art sustains an injury to his shoulder that removes him from tennis for a while. he returns to the sport in 2024 but it’s clear that he’s lost whatever winning streak he was on four years ago. tashi wants nothing more for him to get that streak back, so she enrolls him in a challenger in new rochelle, new york.

his competition is none other than patrick zweig. art loses the challenger but still manages to qualify for the us open. he wins the us open that same season. he divorces tashi and gets full custody of lily a month after his us open win. he also gets a restraining order against both patrick and tashi and retires from tennis that same year. in december of 2024, netflix airs two documentaries about the court cases and art’s life. he sues them, as he hadn’t given them permission to use any of the footage they’d somehow gotten, and wins. in the wake of the restraining order and the documentaries, patrick’s trophy and the money he’d won from the challenger are taken away. tashi also loses most of her credibility and has trouble finding people that want her to coach them.

art keeps out of the spotlight and only plays tennis when lily wants to play on the court at the local playground. he’s working on recovering from everything tashi and patrick put him through. it’s a slow process, but he’s hopeful.

art’s triggers

having his hair pulled

being touched or kissed on or near his waist, hips or hair

the colors red and blue

being called “sweetheart” or “baby”

being asked what he’d do for his partner and being expected to answer with “anything” or being told that his partner will do anything for him

being told that he’s the best thing to ever happen to his partner

being restrained in the bedroom

being marked (hickeys, bruises, etc)

being told he’s doing a good job in the bedroom

another note: because of art’s trauma with tashi and patrick, he avoids men and women that remind him of them for a long time. he becomes very internally biphobic and homophobic and will avoid bisexual and gay men if he can. he doesn’t mean to offend, he just doesn’t want to end up in a relationship like the one he was stuck in for fourteen years. he is working through the trauma they put him through, but it’s a very slow process.

meta — how art’s trauma affects how he views sex, relationships, and his sexuality

trigger warning for rape, sexual assault, emotional abuse, physical abuse, manipulation, cheating, and blackmail

art’s trauma

art was abused for fourteen years. he was physically and emotionally abused by patrick and tashi. both of them were also guilty of sexually assaulting him, but patrick was the worst. tashi knew about patrick’s abuse. she was cheating on art with patrick and she only objected to art being with patrick because it affected his performance on the tennis court. she didn’t do anything to help art get out of his situation, though. patrick would often tell art that if art refused to meet with him at a specific time, he would tell tashi or lily or the press what they were doing. he used art’s fear of people finding out to keep him in line and in control. tashi would use art’s fear of her leaving him to keep him in line. neither tashi nor patrick ever considered themselves to be bad people, and art’s restraining orders against them came as a complete shock.

art’s views on sex

art doesn’t like the thought of having sex with anyone for a long time. he would be perfectly happy in an asexual relationship. he doesn’t like the idea of his partner finding out all of the triggers and issues he has around sex, so he just avoids it whenever he can. if he thinks an interaction is heading in that direction, he’ll leave immediately. he won’t explain himself and he probably won’t talk to your muse for a few days afterwards. the same thing will happen if he needs to stop during sex. he’s been forcing himself through it for years, so he’ll probably try to pretend like he’s fine and he can continue. sometimes (most times), however, he’ll freeze up without any explanation. he tends to put himself as far away from his partner as possible whenever this happens, and he doesn’t explain why.

sex is not something that art has a good relationship with. he has multiple triggers that can be brought on by the simplest of things, and he will not tell his partner about any of these out of fear that they’ll see him as weak or pathetic. he avoids any interaction that could lead to sex whenever possible. if he has to stop during sex (and this is highly likely), he will not talk about it. he will just pretend like it didn’t happen and he will try to ignore whatever questions his partner asks him.

art sees sex as a means for him to be used for his partner’s pleasure. that’s all it was for him for years. patrick and tashi didn’t care about making sure art had a good time. they only cared about themselves. and although art knows that not everyone is like this, he’s scared of it anyway. he doesn’t want to end up where he started, and he’ll do pretty much everything to ensure he doesn’t end up in another relationship like the ones he was in for years.

art’s views on relationships

art’s thoughts on relationships are pretty much the same as his thoughts on sex. he avoids relationships for years. he keeps any interaction he has with anyone strictly platonic, and he will remind them that he’s not interested if the interaction starts to become more romantic or flirty. he doesn’t want to end up in a relationship like the ones he was in, so he just doesn’t pursue anything with anyone. it’s not the best coping mechanism, but it works for him. if someone were to bring up a potential date, art is either going to shut it down or suggest that he bring his daughter along. he doesn’t mean to be rude, but he really isn’t ready for or wanting any sort of romantic relationship with anyone. not for a long time.

art’s views on his sexuality

art is bisexual. this is, unfortunately, something he tries to ignore. he doesn’t like the fact that he’s attracted to men because he’s scared that if he pursues a relationship with a man, it will just end up like another patrick situation. because of this, he tends to avoid bi and gay men, especially in a romantic context. he doesn’t mean to offend, but he doesn’t want to end up in a relationship like the one he had with patrick again, and by avoiding men that aren’t straight, he guarantees it won’t happen.

open starter — art donaldson

Art blames his disorientation on the alcohol in his system. And he blames the alcohol on Patrick. He knows he can’t refuse Patrick—he tried, once, and then never again—but he really would like to stop ending his nights at hotel bars. He’s not at a hotel bar right now, though. He’s wandering down some random street in some random city. He should’ve called an Uber, but he didn’t think of it, and he doesn’t know where he is, so there’s no point in it now.

He frowns up at one of the houses. He knows that door. Or at least, he thinks he does. If not, he’ll just have to hope that whoever lives there takes pity on him. It won’t be that hard. He’s got hickies and bruises all over him, and even though most of them aren’t visible, he knows he’s got at least two hickies on his collarbone. The bruises are all covered by his clothes. They always are.

Slowly, he makes his way up to the door. He knocks. And he waits. When it opens, he smiles in what he hopes is an apologetic manner. “Hi.” He winces at the slur in his voice. “Can I come in?”

open starter — art donaldson

Art blames his disorientation on the alcohol in his system. And he blames the alcohol on Patrick. He knows he can’t refuse Patrick—he tried, once, and then never again—but he really would like to stop ending his nights at hotel bars. He’s not at a hotel bar right now, though. He’s wandering down some random street in some random city. He should’ve called an Uber, but he didn’t think of it, and he doesn’t know where he is, so there’s no point in it now.

He frowns up at one of the houses. He knows that door. Or at least, he thinks he does. If not, he’ll just have to hope that whoever lives there takes pity on him. It won’t be that hard. He’s got hickies and bruises all over him, and even though most of them aren’t visible, he knows he’s got at least two hickies on his collarbone. The bruises are all covered by his clothes. They always are.

Slowly, he makes his way up to the door. He knocks. And he waits. When it opens, he smiles in what he hopes is an apologetic manner. “Hi.” He winces at the slur in his voice. “Can I come in?”

I'n glad you like it! I'm planning to draw more of these two more often when I'm less busy! This is an AU the delves into the unhealthy relationship of these two where the rest of the friend group does not know the ongoing abuse, bit cracks start to show

Externalizing obsession

TW below:

Here is a little bit of lore about weirdcore emily

TW:FISICAL ABUSE AND PHYSICAL ABUSE,AND A BIT OF GORE,AND CURSE WORDS

(Weirdcore emily is inspired in alfred from alfred's playhouse)

Alternatives

And well,let's just say that she/he is mentaly and fisicaly unstable because of the abuse she/he been through,his/her only friends on her moment was weirdcore noisette and weirdcore fake peppino

She/he dosen't know her gender,and thats kinda of her/his lore

Buuut..originaly i didn't want to ruin the weirdcore tower's character's reputation

Anyway,she/he is based on alfred bc of her/his situation of abuse and escaping on her/his imagination,not only that she/he is not safe even in her/his imagination,and yeah i add an reference of alfred in the sun named "mr alfred",so yeah she/he is very kinda like alfred

Credit for the creator(i forgot his name sorry)

Anyway i have no words

Vent tw physical abuse & denial

My mom just made a joke about how she should have hit us harder as a kid because we were so timid and uh I caught myself spiralling and convincing myself I'm actually an endo and that my trauma wasn't real and that all the healing shit I've read is just pathetic woke bullshit.

Why. Why brain.

Trying so hard to remember that we are in fact a system with trauma. God it was just meant to be a joke and now I'm triggered and upset wtf.

Read if you'd like too

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ vent about abuse/assault

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I truly wish I was an only child,

all my sister's have done are fk me over and fuck me up mentally,

especially my lil sister she's turned into someone I can't stand to be around she's so manipulative I already can't trust anyone and they just make it sm worse.

But at least I know my mom has my back and will defend me,

She does things on purpose to trigger me and my mother.

She deflects and tries to make excuses for what she does wrong.

I know I should be more understanding and considerate about her mental health but it's tiring when she doesn't give 2 fucks about anyone else's I do not want to be the bigger or better person.

I will never accept or allow her being shitty to me or my mother that's never been me and it never will be.

She assaulted our grandpa hit him and tries to make me not tell my mom I've always told my mother anything that goes on so if it's serious I will tell her but apparently I'm the bad guy for that do I care honestly no.

She made the first move and hit him and bragged and laughed about inflicting pain on him and that she enjoyed it...

Now I wouldn't be so idk about that because I can be pretty violent too but not without reason.

We learned from a young age to never hit someone first to let them take the first hit on us then hit or whatever after...

But I guess it only stuck with me.

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

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

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 

You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.

He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!

He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 

But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 

Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 

So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 

Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 

You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 

On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 

She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”

“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 

Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating table. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 

Yes, it is better this way.

That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 

Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 

He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 

However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.

 Nifty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 

He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 

“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 

The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”

“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am in the break room within ten minutes.” 

“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”

You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”

He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”

“Because I know the truth.”

Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 

“I know the truth. “I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with this horrifying truth with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 

The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 

“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”

“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 

In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when you released you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 

“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 

“Release me.”

“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW

“Come to my office in exactly ten minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 

So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?

In ten minutes, he  needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.

What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 

He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling and fussing over you before grabbing you by the hand. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again. He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 

Taglist

@no1sillybilly

@faux-ecrivain

@faesdreaming

@sillypumpkins

@imperfectbloodmoon

@bones4thecats

@frompeach

@lunaramune

@sleepy-hutao

@candyladycry

@luthefriendlywitch

@22carolina08

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@frenchtoastmafia

@deathmetalunicorn1

@tired-of-life-86

@angelltheninth

@kanroji-san

@likesugarandcyanide

@yandere-dark-cupid

@trecllllllll

@the-cat-queen-peasants

@rebloglikeyouneedtoo

@oucx

@victheauthor

@navierkalani

@doc-tooth

@solandis-does-stuff

@anielly-2010

@theunknowntravel3r

@riddle-simp

@tonightwrites

Love how well you wrote this! Good job!

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warning: obsessive behavior, implied violence, implied emotional and physical abuse, implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 series.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

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

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor! This is a collaborative piece written with @isuckatwritingsobenice, whom I share a mutual adoration for Violet Evergarden, the anime and titular character who is in my humble opinion, one of the best written female protagonists I have seen in anime.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going for tonight's broadcast :)

Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment and chaos. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades! 

When you had arrived at the hotel with nothing except the clothes on your back and a suitcase that protected your precious Remington typewriter, the Radio Demon would not deny that he was amused to see a sinner who actually saw his advertisement on the television. After all, no one was taking Charlie seriously, and who would? Apparently you did, but for a different reason: you were looking for a job, a purpose. You said so in the interview, and you were willing to learn. When Vagatha asked what would be considered a flaw in your work ethic, you took off your leather gloves and showed her and Charlie  the alloy prosthetics that acted as your new limbs after losing them in the war.

Why you still had them and why your appearance was wholly human, you did not know. Would this be considered a flaw? You were not sure either. You are still learning about modern technology, especially the handheld devices called cell phones. 

Although the staff was in dire need of someone who could advertise the Hazbin Hotel on the Internet, the princess found something you could do and might be adequate at: gardening. More specifically, being the hotel’s groundskeeper. Someone who can maintain the hotel’s outward appearance and make sure the hell-grass or weeds don’t  get too out of control. You stood up from your seat, feet planted together and saluted Charlie, promising that you will do your best in a monotone voice.

The poor dear did get a little flustered from your actions, but Vagatha did not seem to mind, asking you to follow her upstairs so that she could show you your new room and give you the key. Your first day will be tomorrow. 

Oh, this will be fun~! Alastor thought with a wide grin. Someone new to antagonize and fall into the fiery pits of failure! Husk was starting to bore him anyway. 

And he was not disappointed. 

He saw you struggle with holding a garden spade, laying down carpets of fresh grass neatly without trying to crush it between your prosthetic limbs, carrying fertilizer and what flowers to plant! These entertaining events happened within the first week of being here. Is he sorry that his shadows purposely swapped the fertilizer bags and replaced the seed bags to plant roses with rat bait? Absolutely not! 

The more chaos that he created, the more entertained he will be. The anticipation to see you crumble from the pressure and expectations of dear Vagatha and Charlie is almost palpable, he couldn’t wait! 

However, you were not someone who gave up as easily as he hoped you would. 

You kept showing up every day at the exact time, and worked in the garden until Niffty had to drag you inside to have lunch. Then you stayed outside for a bit longer, making sure everything was ready for the following day. You even tried to help out in the kitchen, though you were still struggling to properly hold a knife and chop up vegetables for his jambalaya or cracking eggs in a bowl to help Niffty bake a cake at nine o’clock in the evening because she was bored and wanted something sweet. 

You carried heavy crates of liquor for Husk and even massaged his temples when he complained of a headache. When you discreetly switched out the liquor in his booze for water one time he held a grudge against you for pulling that stunt for almost a week. He eventually forgave you by preparing a Shirley Temple on the house after you politely rejected a whiskey on the rocks because you did not drink alcohol. 

Sir Pentious, the wannabe overlord, was utterly fascinated with your prosthetic limbs and had asked you to let him examine them. That comment earned him a low, menacing growl from Vagatha, spear in hand. The Egg Bois seemed to like you well enough that they tried to help you out in the garden when all they really did was make your job a bit harder. You still thanked them anyway. 

Angel Dust tried to take you shopping for a new wardrobe since you always wore the same outfit every day, but his definition of fashion bordered on risque and flaunting his assets. You were not here to flaunt your appearance, you were here to work, but you thanked him anyway. When he came back to the hotel, staggering inside on wobbly legs and his face covered in black-blue bruises, you were the one who caught him and helped him settle on a table as Husk pulled out a first aid kit. You allowed Angel to put all four of his arms around you and cry on your shoulders, carefully placing your skeletal prosthetics around his back. 

How is it that a single sinner could empathize with everyone here except him? 

This singular thought, this curious idea, is what motivated Alastor to find out more about you. And there is no else in Hell who can spill the tea on someone as accurately as his dear friend Rosie. 

A trip to Cannibal Colony was in order~!  So he did go there, proclaiming he’ll be back before dinner and ignoring Vagatha’s cursing as well as the princess trying to calm down her short-tempered lover. 

As it turned out, he had heard about you, it’s just that the topic in question did not interest him at the time. Rosie conjured up some old newspaper clippings, pointing at the image of you fighting against an exorcist in hand-to-hand combat during the Extermination. This article had been written five years ago, and the one before that? Three years ago. It seemed like you were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you fought back because that is what your life had been before; surrounded by violence, vanquishing enemy forces when they crossed your path. Yet when you did make an appearance, everyone in Hell clamored for any scraps of information. Anything to find out who is the mysterious sinner who looked like a human and could rip off an exorcist’s head bare-handed. 

Now, you were staying at the hotel trying to put whatever remained of your afterlife together. That is your true purpose and now the Radio Demon knew. 

Alastor thanked Rosie for the information and the company, leaving Cannibal Colony in a merry mood. Everything was in place. Everything made perfect sense now.

If you were looking for a way to be useful in his newest project, he can make that happen. All he needs to do is nudge you in the right direction without Charlie and Vagatha around.

They are adorable when they are taking turns being a guard dog around you, you sweet little darling~. 

Taglist

@chroniccorvus

@imperfectbloodmoon

@doc-tooth

@nixie-writes

@riddle-simp

@tired-of-life-86

@blackmageoffandoms

If you would like to be tagged in future yandere hazbin x reader fics, please comment on this post here. If you do not comment, then you will not be added on the taglist.

tw blood

saw a artist say how cabalism was used "for metaphpur for love ,desire, and obsession. how about canabalism as a metaphour for abuse/assault.?"

and i thought that was genious because yeah, it just make sense that ,that kind of imagery can be used for showing any kind of abuse.

so i made this.

this is kind of a vent art?

also this has nothing to do with the cakeverse thing lol.

i chose to make a strawbery cake like one of those barbie cakes where there is cake and barbie in between.

i made it cuz when i was 4 i had a barbie cake on my birthday . that day is as far as i can remember .

so like to symbloise death of inoocence or something.

multiple forks to symbolise difrent kinds of abuse slowly taking parts of you away.

and some other things but i am to lazy to right lol.

so interpt however you want thats what art is anyway.

{adria arjona, 32, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, LADY AMARA SALAZAR of CARDIFF! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are  KINDHEARTED and EMPATHETIC  enough to handle it. just don’t let your INGENUOUSLY bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU OVERHEARD ABOUT A PLOT THAT CAN PLACE YOUR LOVER AT RISK. (its me mara)

Background:

Lady Amara Salazar of Cardiff, originally hailing from a lesser noble family in Puerto Rico. Her early life and childhood was marred by tragedy and abuse. Amara shared a close bond with her little sister Carla, spending countless hours together and forming a deep connection. However, this happiness was shattered when her sister fell gravely ill. Amara stayed by her side, offering care and companionship, but despite her efforts, her sister passed away.

Amara's father, Don Carlos Salazar, was a stern and traditional man who managed the family’s modest estate and small coffee plantation. Despite their noble status, the family’s finances were often strained, adding to the pressures Carlos felt. After the loss of his youngest daughter, Carlos was consumed by grief and anger, directing his blame toward Amara. To cope with his pain, he resorted to drinking heavily, and when drunk, he would treat Amara terribly, subjecting her to both verbal and occasional physical abuse.

Amara's mother, Doña Angelica Dapena, was a gentle and nurturing woman who initially tried to maintain peace within the household. She was devoted to her children and spent her days tending to the household and supporting her husband's endeavors. However, the death of her youngest daughter proved too much for Angelica to bear. Unable to handle the family's turmoil and her husband’s increasing hostility, she abandoned the family shortly after her youngest daughter’s death, leaving Amara to bear the brunt of her father's anger alone.

Despite these hardships, Amara's inherent kindness and empathy shone through. She found solace in activities that allowed her to escape her difficult reality. She would immerse herself in novels, losing herself in stories of far-off places and better times. Amara also expressed herself through painting, creating beautiful artworks that reflected her inner world.

Horseback riding became another of her cherished pastimes, providing a sense of freedom and escape. Additionally, Amara was deeply connected to her community. She would often help her neighbors with tasks such as picking coffee or sugar cane, offering her assistance whenever it was needed. Her willingness to help others and her genuine concern for their well-being made her a beloved figure in her community.

Her beauty caught the eye of a high lord who sought her hand in marriage. Seeing this as an escape from her father's torment, she accepted, though her father made the decision driven solely by financial gain, disregarding her wishes.

Her marriage brought her to Cardiff, where her new husband treated her with gentleness and respect. Their relationship, built on mutual respect, evolved into a deep friendship over the years. Amara embraced her new role, receiving education in etiquette and household management, and dutifully attended social events at her husband's side.

At one of these events, Amara met Philip, a Viscount, whose presence stirred emotions in her that she had longed to feel. Despite being married, Philip captivated her, and Amara, who had always yearned for true love, found herself drawn to him. She desires love and to be loved, without expecting anything in return.

Personality:

Amara's kindhearted and empathetic nature is both her strength and her vulnerability. Her ingenuousness can sometimes lead her into precarious situations. She is a woman defined by her resilience, kindness, and empathy. She is loyal to her responsibilities and the people she cares about. She diligently attended social events with her husband and learned how to manage a household. Her sense of duty extends to her community, where she is always ready to lend a helping hand. Amara’s brave yet vulnerable nature drives her to protect those she loves, even at great personal risk. 

Secret and Motivations:

She harbors a profound secret that weighs heavily on her heart. Recently, she overheard a dangerous plot that threatens the safety of Philip, the Viscount who has captured her affections. This revelation has placed her in a precarious position, torn between her desire to protect Philip and the risk of exposing herself to danger and betrayal.Amara's motivations stem from her deep-seated yearning for love and emotional connection. Her marriage, while respectful, lacks the passionate love she craves. Meeting Philip awakened dormant desires within her, igniting a fervent longing for true intimacy and companionship. 

The Hidden Purpose || Armitage Hux x Reader

Summary: You're member of Resistance that was caught and transported to First Order's ship. You're interrogated by General Hux himself but he isn't able to break you. At first opportunity you run away but are caught once again and this time Hux does whatever he can to assure you he's a good man and wants nothing but your freedom. Unfortunately, you believe him, which results in a rough sex in his chamber few days later. Little do you know that he has a plan for you, not necessarily with a happy ending.

Warnings: Physical abuse, smut, death

Words: 3768

Request by: @huxshoe

Authors: Cass & Rouge

Hux was happy like never before, not everyday he was able to put hand on the mind of resistance.

Interrogation didn't go well, you were stubborn but oh, how delighted he was seeing your facade crumbling more and more with every electrical shock the interrogation chair was sending through your body. Hux knew you will break, everyone did at some point, and you weren't any different than all previous unbreakable people he welcomed in this chair.

 The most unexpected thing came when he got a message about your failed attempt of escaping the ship in one of the fighters.

 Armitage had to admit you were really brave and very stupid at the same time.

After receiving the message about you being captured once again, he ordered the troopers to bring you to an empty cell.

It was time for you to learn that disobeying First Order and him was a bad idea.

A cold floor of the cell wasn't the only inconvenience you've experienced lately.

 Sitting on the polished flooring with your back pressed to equally cold wall wasn't something you were dreaming about, yet you were thankful to the Force to be still alive, with your rebellious heart beating hardly within your chest.

 General Hux walked into the cell in the company of two troopers.

He was dressed as always, black uniform, heavy boots and a black coat dropped over his shoulders.

"So? Was it worth it? Running away again, you didn't get too far anyway," Hux said almost giggling but he did his best to keep the tone of his voice serious and cold like it used to be always.

 You threw him a cold glance without replying to his words, you found it pointless to even talk to the man who was simply responsible for death of many innocent people.

 He walked to you and grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

"Oh? This time nothing to say? That's odd, all of you always have mouth full of rebel shit to spread around."

Hux took a good look on you.

"Such a shame. Pretty face, pretty body and it's going to waste so easily," Armitage muttered.

 "Fuck off, bastard," you hissed and grabbed his hand to pull it off your chin. "Don't touch me or I'll snap your fucking neck, traitor," hissing you crawled away.

 Your leg was injured and it was hard for you to stay nor move.

 Armitage looked at you and shook his head, then he moved glance at the troopers.

"Bring me a med kit. I will need it," Hux ordered and stormtroopers immediately followed his words.

 Few minutes have passed and one of soldiers returned with med kit. Armitage took it and sent soldier away.

"Anyway, I bet it must be really uncomfortable with this big gash on your leg, love."

 You frowned hearing him calling you love.

"Who do you think you are?," Growling, you got up slowly and supported yourself against the wall. "Stop talking to me, you ginger scum."

 Armitage saw your internal struggle to keep yourself on your feets.

"Well, I am a general. That's who I am, love," he explained walking closer to you. "Come on, sit down now and no need to be rude. Be respectful, get the respect," Hux shrugged.

 When he somehow got you to sit down and show him your leg without kicking him right in the face, he felt disgusted.

It's not that he was scared of blood or something, he couldn't believe that it was your blood. Him, the general of First Order, playing a fucking doctor with a rebel scum only to get some informations which taking your rank won't be too useful.

Thanks to the force for the gloves, he thought to himself.

 "You see, I guess I am not that bad. I help enemy in need," Hux joked dryly before pressing a cotton pad dipped in the antiseptic to your wound.

 Despite angst you felt in your soul and despite the disgust you felt towards this man, you let him treat your wound.

"Why the hell are you doing this? Wouldn't it be easier to kill me?," You asked rapidly.

 He looked at you and raised his eyebrow. Oh, how much he wanted to wrap both of his hands around your throat and squeeze the life out of you.

 "Well, as you see, it's not easier, love. If it would, I wouldn't be stopping myself from taking your life away," Hux explained and gave you a cold, clearly fake smile.

 Despite the lack of knowledge when it comes to wounds, he was a general, not a fucking nurse after all, Armitage did a neat job with taking care of your wound.

"So? I think I did a nice job, huh?"

 You looked at him and moved glance to your wound. Indeed, he treated it pretty well.

"Not bad as for the general," you shrugged and checked if the bandage was wrapped not too tightly so the blood could easily circulates in your leg. "What you want me to do in return? Come on, we both know you didn't do this without a reason, I'm not an idiot," informing him, you looked into his green eyes.

 Hux chuckled and shook his head.

"Am I really that bad? How come when I tell you I did all of this just because you are beautiful, young woman and I couldn't look at the suffering you put yourself trough?"

 You couldn't believe what you heard. Tilting your head aside a little, you blinked few times.

"I don't know what kind of shit they're giving you and your people but you sound delusional," you snorted. "Since when one of the most important members of the First Order compliments some rebel scum, huh, general Hux?"

 "I don't know what your beloved princess taught you but for sure this weren't good manners, love. Such a pretty face but such a dirty mouth," Hux rolled his eyes. "I do this since that rebel scum has a very pretty face," Armitage answered.

 Not being sure how to behave, you simply smiled his words away.

"If you're being so kind and sweet on me, let's make a deal. You'll let me go and I won't tell anyone that you got soft around me."

 General simply laughed.

"You are a cute one but I am not afraid of such a rumors," he said with a shrug.

"Too many of female and male part of First Order tried to use them. Soon people stopped believe, love," Armitage shrugged off the coat and put it around your shoulders. He knew the cells were mostly cold so prisoners could be hold in them for a longer time and looking at your half-torn clothes he knew you were cold in there.

 In first moment you wanted to throw the coat off your shoulders but as soon as you felt a nice warmth of it, you accepted it. Apparently the coat was still warm from his warmth.

"Thanks," you mumbled quietly and wrapped flaps of the clothing around your figure. "Answer me, am I going to die here?"

 "Well. Without protection for sure," he hummed without much of thinking, Armitage looked at you.

 He had to admit you were a pretty one. Almost as pretty as the girls he often ordered to his room but this didn't matter.

 "But you are lucky today, love. You can be under my protection and be completely free from any side of conflict," general said.

 You frowned at his words yet got interested in the opportunity of being freed soon.

"Tell me more," you asked simply and inhaled the strong scent of his fragrance from the coat. He was using a nice cologne, you had to admit.

 Ginger general smiled to himself mentally. You caught the bait, his little trick was working. Women were easy after all.

 Hux smiled at you.

"You know my rank is high, love. I know many people, even the ones that live outside the war hell," he dared to get closer to you and gently cup your cheek, his thumb moved across the soft skin.

"I can easily find a shelter for you, love. Everything to make you safe."

 "What in return?," You asked openly.

 It would be too simple to trick First Order with a help of their general. Entire thing stank but you were helpless and willing to hear him out.

 Hux shrugged, opening his arms.

"Nothing, love. Some love and affection that everyone needs. Do I like it or not I fell for you."

Armitage cringed inside, love wasn't the feeling he wanted or needed. He hated the whole situation taking fact to whom he was speaking. General confessing to a rebel, what a joke.

 You slowly cocked brows.

"No way," you told him and got up to get into his level. "No fucking way," you repeated and slowly went to door, supporting yourself against the wall. You pounded them few times and tried to open them but you didn't succeed. "Open this fucking door."

 Armitage walked to the door and punched in the code. The door slid open and man bowed his head.

"Here you go, Y/N. No need to be rude."

 This got you off the guard.

You looked at the empty corridor, then back at him. The freedom was ahead, you only had to reach your hand out...

 Instead of getting out of the chamber, you took step back and shivered all over your body.

 In the back of your head you saw yourself trying to run away with that injured leg and being shot with a blaster at nearest corner. It was too risky in your state. You weren't ready and it was more than sure you wouldn't make it through their base. Not alone. But with him... With him it might work.

 "Okay," you swallowed hardly and looked at him. "I agree."

 Armitage simply offered you his hand.

"Come on, don't shiver."

 General took you to his quarter.

The room was really nice, big and filled with needed stuff. Nice desk, big bed, small coffee table, couch and many other things.

"I hope you will like it here."

 Hux couldn't believe himself, what he had to do for the First Order. To let scum into his own room was a huge commitment from his side and he never knew he was capable to do something like this.

 Armitage giggled, he couldn't believe in your words.

"I am the general. I know what you think about us but like you see, First Order takes a good care of people working for them."

 Armitage took your hand and placed a kiss on your palm, much to his disgust.

"And I can take care of you.”

 You didn't reply and deep inside you were screaming. Disgust almost made you vomit but you pretended to cough a little.

 It was warm enough in the chamber so you took the coat off and handed it back to its owner.

"Thanks."

 Hux nodded and took the coat to hide it into the wardrobe.

"Kitten's name is Millicent," he added quickly.

 You walked to his bed and knelt down, you started stroking cat's ear what caused a symphony of purring.

 "Am I still a monster?," Hux asked.

He was getting tired of his whole play, he needed information now. Few more minutes and he will probably shoot you himself.

 "So. What exactly do you need?," You asked still petting his cat. "You took me out of the cell so I owe you something."

 Millicent laid herself on the back, exposing her belly to you in a hope to get some rubs yet you got up and walked to back to general.

 Hux shrugged.

"As I said, all I need is some love and affection."

 -----------

 It took Hux whole painful and annoying week to make you see a good man in him. There was so many times that he wanted to shoot or simply stab you and watch you bleed out but he controlled himself.

 Although the information you held might be useless, there still was a tiny shadow of hope that you knew more, after all you have been often seen around Leia or other important figure.

 Finally one day, he had you sitting on his desk.

Face all red, breath heavy and eyes clouded with arousal.

 Armitage was proud of himself.

He was always taught he was nothing, that he was useless and now here he was, with woman he seduced completely by his own.

 With legs parted by his hips, you were playing with buttons of his black, satin shirt.

"I can't believe what I'm doing," you told him as you unbuttoned two last buttons and opened his shirt, revealing the pale skin of his.

 Hux smiled at you and easily unbuttoned your white shirt he provided by himself as gift to soften you.

"If I can be fully honest, I am happy you finally accepted my feeling, love," Hux purred grabbing your hand. "You're the one that will shed the clothes. I have meeting in half an hour and I don't want to look improperly," Armitage announced before kissing you deeply, his tongue was pushed into your mouth as his hands worked on taking your shirt off.

 You helped him with your shirt and soon dropped it to the floor, revealing your half-naked body to the ginger general. Looking up at him you slipped off the counter of his desk to strip off your pants as well.

 Hux stepped back and watched happily.

He imagined you as one of the working girls, there was no other way for him to accept you - the rebel scum getting that close to him, the general.

 "Very nice," Armitage purred as he looked at your completely naked form right in front of him.

He grabbed your sides and surprisingly easily sat you back on the desk. "You won't regret it, love."

 Soon Hux was opened a fly in his pants and freed his cock.

To his own surprise the probably idiotic idea of imagining you as whore helped him get hard.

 You parted your legs for him and took a hold onto his stiffened length to give it few long strokes, clenching palm from time to time.

 You felt disgust towards yourself. Being so close to the most important figure in First Order, in such a situation. You felt dirty, like a real whore whom you partly became only to get your freedom back.

 Armitage smiled and kissed you deeply removing your hand from his memeber.

He slowly guided himself inside you, making sure to be really gentle.

 You laid your back on the desk and wrapped legs around his hips.

It's been a longer while since you were having sex for the very last time and you felt like it would be the first time for you, you walls were clenched so tightly that Hux had to work a little before slipping his shaft fully in.

 Hux didn't had time for this, pulling out he spat on his hand and pumped his cock to make his shaft slick. Then, he pushed right back in, without even trying to be gentle this time.

 You let out a quiet whimper and rubbed your clit few times, just to make yourself slick.

"Hux!," You whimpered and looked up at his dignified figure.

 "What is it, love?," He asked, hovering over you, his hips moved like a pistons. Armitage was pushing deep inside you with every thrust.

 Moaning loudly you let him taking you as much as he wanted. In the way he wanted.

His cock was slamming in and out of your tight pussy, making you vulnerable at his every touch.

 "Look at you, such a good girl. You will be mine now," he purred bending down to kiss your neck and then moved lower to your breasts.

 You were moaning through clenched teeth, your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed his temples, rolling hips to meet each of his thrusts.

 Hux's lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking and biting the sensitive flesh.

Somehow he was able to pick up his pace.

His hand cupped your cheek.

"Are you a good girl, love?," General asked with a soft, quiet purr in his voice.

 You nodded taking a hold onto his hand like it would be the only thing on which your life depended.

"I am!"

Oh, how happy he was to see your reaction. After all his efforts was worth something.

Hux focused on hitting that one particular sweet spot to force the answer out of you.

"So, will you tell me where the rest of resistance is, love?," Ginger man gasped.

"Planet of Crait!," You screamed and wrapped legs tighter around his hips to deepen his moves.

Hux's cock was sliding easily in your pussy, sending a huge waves of pleasure to every nerve of your body, in the result of this you weren't able to control yourself any longer.

"How many of you?," He asked simply pushing harder in your pussy, your walls were clenching nicely around his shaft, hugging it tightly.

"I... Don't... Fuck! I don't know!"

He smiled giving you few harder thrusts, his hands moved between your bodies to aggressively rub your clit.

"What is your princess planning?"

"She wants.... Ah!," You couldn't focus when he was teasing your spot with the tip of his throbbing cock. "She wants to reunite with rest of Republic but till now no one responded to her call!"

That was it.

This was all he needed, finally he could quit this game.

Armitage pulled his dick away and grabbed your hair tightly, tugging on them to throw you off the table to the floor.

"Finally!," He growled and kicked you right in the stomach with his combat boot while shifting his cock back into pants and improving them.

Hux laughed maniacally and rubbed his hands together.

You gasped at the sudden emptiness but as soon as he threw you off the desk and you hit your back against the marble floor, you let out a loud, short scream and rolled into a ball.

Hux smiled and kicked you few more times just for simple fun. After that he ordered Phasma to pay him a visit.

After few minutes Captain walked into the room.

"General," woman said and looked at you. "I see the plan worked. Where are we heading?"

Armitage looked at your hopeless body on the floor.

"Planet of Crait. There shouldn't be much of them, poor Princess got no answer for her useless cry for help," he explained and Phasma nodded.

"I will prepare the troops, shall I send someone here as well?,"" Woman asked.

"Yes. I can't look at her anymore. And make sure to send in troops that really can shoot. I don't want them to miss," Hux ordered.

After Phasma left he walked up to you and pulled your hair once again forcing you to look at him.

”Look at yourself, poor, tiny rebel and where is your wonderful princess now? I used you and got what I wanted, just like I always do, and you? Beaten up and used, left to die by people who claimed to fight for the good side," he chuckled darkly. "No one came, no one cared. This is how good your people and princess are."

You shivered hardly when tears rolled down your cheeks.

Deep inside you were reconciled with the fact they'll kill you one day. But you happened to trust that guy. He claimed to help you and it was all a lie.

Naked, beaten, you looked into his eyes, trying to keep your facade unshaken.

"Please, don't!," You screamed grabbing him by sleeve.

He pushed you away and kicked you again, harder than before.

"And why shall I not, huh, rebel scum?"

"Please, don't do this! You ain't like them, I see this!," You cried and wiped your lips from blood after his kick.

Hux's face softened, he walked to you and really gently helped you to get up back on your feet.

He cradled you in his arms and kissed your cheek, moving closer to your ear.

"You are right, love. I am not like them," you could feel him smiling against your ear. "I am worse."

Just in the same moment two soldiers walked inside the room. They looked confused.

"Ah! Here are our guests, love. Come on be a good girl!," Ginger general frowned, forcing you to kneel. "Any last word, sweetheart?"

You sobbed loudly, it was pointless to control any of your emotions.

Your knees hurt of kneeling on the polished, cold floor, the injured leg was hurting the most.

You raised your head and looked at the ginger man.

"Yes, actually," you snapped and when tear rolled down your cheek, you gasped. "I have the last thing to add."

"Spit it out, woman," Hux ordered looking at you.

You smiled at him like you'd be overwhelmed by pure bliss.

"You cannot be sure if I said the truth."

Hux wasn't going to fall for such a play.

"Very well, I will send your body on the planet you told me about. Your friends will neither receive it and bury your with honours or your corps will rote on the forsaken planet, not like I'd care. You've chosen your grave. Fire," Hux yelled.

Soon the floor was painted red.

Hux stood there, not moving by the whole execution. It wasn't first nor last time he was witnessing something like this.

"You idiots! I got blood on my new shoes!," He growled at troopers and sighed deeply, rubbing bridge of his nose. "Just send someone to take her away. Make sure the corps will be sent on her planet and get someone to fucking clean this mess."

Millicent jumped off the bed she was napping at and walked to Hux. She rubbed her side against his combat boot and ran happily towards your dead body. She licked your pale cheek and laid next to your head, purring.

Hux looked at you, he kinda felt bad for you.

You were a really young woman, maybe in your early twenties and yet you ended up like this, just because you wanted to do something you thought was good for people that didn't care.

Even if Armitage felt guilt building up deep in his guts, he had to shake it off.

This was a war and there were only two sides: winners and losers.

First Order was going to be a winner at all costs and he had to make sure of it.

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Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Always have a place"

TW: mentions of physical/verbal abuse

I have issue, it's okay though writing make me feel better Abt them.

Yelling it was always a non-stop screaming match in your house, your quirk allows you to absorb sound and turn it into physical energy, unfortunately for your fathers quirk was much stronger than yours and fobadde you to use it outside of school. Your house was hell between your mom and dad fighting all the time and occasionally dragging you into it it felt like internal flames.

One night got particularly bad when your dad started yelling, you stepped in to remove your mom from the situation when he raised a fist to hit her as you jumped in the way. He proceeded to derect all anger at you now. Your mom ran taking the keys urging you to leave but you refused to give him even a second to potentially hurt her. She left leaving you a bleeding bruised mess as your dad walked out the door. You couldn't stand it anymore. Through the rumbing of thunder outside you patched yourself up grabbing a duffle bag with clothes. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you didn't want to be home when he got back.

Walking in through the rain phone in hand you dialed Katsuki's number.

"the hell? Why are you calling me it's 3am on a school night?" He said in the usual gruff tone the sleep still in his voice.

"Katsu, can i-" you were cut off by Katsuki's voice louder than before "Are you outside?! What the hell, is pouring get inside before you get sick." He said even though he sounded more aggressive you could tell he was genuinely worried.

"Katsuki please just listen to me, i- " you paused feeling a wave of hesitation "I need a place to stay tonight.. please" silence. You heard slight movement from his end. "The doors unlocked my parents are sleeping but I'll tell them while you get here. Hurry up I can't have a hypothermic partner." He said hanging up the phone.

You put the phone in your pocket walking the remaining distance to his home. You knocked on the door being greeted by Mrs. Bakugou.

She was like a second mom to you so the look on her face when she was you bruised eye and cut lip/face was beyond frightening. She helped you in placing your bag on the floor calling Katsuki to start a bath for you. "Go up and take a bath dearie, I'll leave some soup upstairs in Katsuki's room for you." She spoke in a rather soft voice.

You went up towards the bathroom seeing Katsuki still warming the water. "What the fuck. I'm gonna kill that bastard." He spoke pulling you into a hug. "Don't it's - it's my fault I got in the way it's just - he was going to hurt her and i- " your voice was braking with tears and finally giving out with a sob. You shoved your face into his chest

"It's okay dummy.. you're here and safe now. I'll take care of everything okay?" He said his voice softening. "Get in the bath I'll throw a towel in the dryer for you" he said placing a kiss on your lips.

You faced away from the door using Katsuki's soap to wash up. When katsuki returns he sees a bad bruise on your side as you wince in pain trying to wash your hair. "Give me the soap" he said his hand outwards. "Kats-" you said trying to cover yourself with your hands. "Nothing I haven't seen before, just lean back and let me do this for you." You felt your face get warm at his beginning remark but let him nonetheless. Afterwards he leaves to let you get changed.

When you entered the room there was a bowl of soup next to the bed and Katsuki was putting away laundry, you walked behind him wrapping your arms around him placing your weight onto him out of exhaustion.

"Hey, you okay now?" He asked shifting so you were in front of him. "Mhm just cold" you said and he placed his hand on your head "your probably gonna be sick. You should've called me I could've gone and got you dumbass" he says but there's no anger anywhere in his voice just worry. He picked you up bridal style placing you on the bed laying next to you. "Mom's okay with you sleeping in here but if you want the bed to yourself.. too bad." He says kissing you. You snuggling into him finally letting your guard down snuggling into him "I don't.. know how long I'll need a place-" you were cut off by a kiss from Katsuki "don't act like you don't have a place here. Besides, the hag likes you so she won't mind"

The rest of the night is cuddling and a little bit of crying, but Katsuki holds you the whole time until you both fall asleep.