#🎀𝕊𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕞𝕤 𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕤

[24kmar]

NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN (I'LL CRAWL HOME TO HER)

in which luke is determined to keep you close to him forever. luke castellan x fem! reader, wc: 1.36k, warning: swearing, note: first post dedicated to my favorite villain... enjoy !

"Wha-... what the fuck are you talking about Luke ?" From the edge of his bunk bed, your boyfriend avoids your stare, looking anywhere but at your face. "Look at me ! You can't just drop this upon me and act like nothing is happening !" He can hear the hurt and the confusion in your voice and decides to get closer to you. He wants to hold you tight and never let you go but settles for holding your hand.

"Babe, listen to me. please." He’s the one to look at you with pleading eyes this time, one hand circling yours and the other resting on the nape of your neck. "You know how much I hate Olympus and how they toy with us just for their own benefit. I know you feel the same way, watching kids barely getting here safely only to never be claimed or only when their parent deems it convenient ! Do you think it's fair ? To be used as a puppet so you can finally be worthy in the eyes of mom or dad ? Risking your life to fix their shortcomings ?"

His emphasis on dad doesn't intrigue you, you already know. Everyone knows. His eyes are full of resentment and his scar seems so red, a stark contrast with the unmarred skin. Luke goes on and on about his supposedly great plan and you can only watch in horror as the boy in front of you looks nothing like the one you fell in love summers ago.

Hand reaching for the one still laid on your nape, you look up, brows furrowed. "Does Annabeth know ?"

These three words are enough to make him flinch. He opens and closes his mouth and that tells you everything you need to know. Your face twists with disgust and anger as you shove his shoulder enough for him to stumble back, away from you.

"Fuck off Luke !" you spit, tears cornering at your lash line. "How dare you turn your back on your little sister, on me ?" Your voice cracks but you try to put up a brave front, wiping the corner of your eyes. You can only stare at him in disbelief, even though your hands itch to bring him closer to you, to hold him and to at least try to understand his sudden change of heart.

Luke attempts to step forward but you pull back and he can hear his own heart breaking. He runs a hand over his face before answering you with a shaky sigh: "Look, I’m doing this for everyone at camp, for us ! I want us to live free of that burden. We deserve so much more than what the gods have to give !" His voice falters and he clears his throat. "I don't want to wake up one morning and find out you're gone because of them, because you went on a stupid quest for the sake of your parent who can't even bother to acknowledge you !" He looks at you fondly and sighs. "Do you remember the time I came back from the quest Hermes sent me on ? You were so scared something had happened to me. I can't let that happen again. I can't let that happen to you. I want to protect you, to protect us ! You- you're all I have."

Tears fall freely as you shake your head, hugging yourself in an attempt to calm down. "There’s got to be another way, you can’t… You can’t do this Luke ! I-" you sob.

And you feel so afraid yet you don’t know whether you’re more scared of Luke himself or of the thought of losing him to something this insane. The cogs in your brain turn and turn but you can't bring yourself to drive him out of your life, not when you've seen him at his best and at his worst, when you've been by his side for so long you can't even remember.

In a few steps, Luke is engulfing you in a hug and all resolve you had to push him away crumbles within seconds. He rests his chin on the crown of your head while you cling to his shirt. He holds you tight, as if the mere thought of you walking out of his cabin would become true and you might vanish with the wind.

"Hey hey, it’s okay, we’ll… we’ll figure it out, we still have time." he whispers in your ear and you want to believe him, you really do.

Slightly pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, hands coming up to cup your face. With a sad smile, Luke's thumbs wipe your tearstained cheeks.

"There, don't cry," he tells you softly, "my pretty, pretty girl. You know I'll never let you go right ? I love you too much to be able to live without you."

His smile is genuine as his hand cautiously takes your own to place it on his chest, right where you can feel his heartbeat. "You’re here, always and forever, no matter what."

Luke's world had crumbled a long time ago, ever since he realized the gods were monsters in disguise. But now that he has you in his life, whatever's left of that sparkle of hope he had when he was fourteen (and when the world seemed so big yet so full of chances) shines brighter. You were the one who rebuilt everything from scratch, who fixed the gaping hole in his heart.

Your free hand comes up to brush his cheek, thumb trailing his scar. You wish you could close your eyes and pretend that the world isn't on the brink of disaster, that your Luke isn't about to change its course.

The love of your life starts again: "I'll be with you at any cost, believe me. And if anyone, so much as the gods or that new forbidden kid attempt to separate us, I'll walk- heck I'll drag myself back to you !"

His promise is sealed with a kiss and you're certain you'd follow him in a heartbeat: "for better or worse ?" you ask in a small voice, lips hovering over his.

He answers you with a smile and shiny eyes: "for better or worse."

[24kmar]

this song is so luke castellan

[24kmar]

I need this song in my veins 🧎🏻‍♀️

[24kmar]

These two together is a recipe for heartbreak 🥲

favorite crime

pairing … luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (end of tlt)

word count … 3.5k

summary … “and I watched as you fled the scene / doe-eyed as you buried me / one heart broke, four hands bloody”

warnings … fighting, blood, backbiter, emotional distress, annabeth trauma, friends to lovers to enemies, kr*nos, reader is kinda manipulative, puke, kissing, very light illusions to smut, this was longer than i wanted it to be, not proofread

a/n … one night I thought to myself “what if the roles were reversed?” and it led me to this 🤷‍♀️ title is from the song favorite crime by olivia rodrigo 😊

The way you kissed him was carnivorous. Your teeth purposefully clashed against his and your knuckles turned white from how tight of a grip you had on his biceps. Luke reciprocated this passion with his large hands splayed across the ass of your jean shorts that sat in his lap and his lips jumping around your face. 

You began to suck and tug at the skin on his neck with your teeth. “We should get back soon,” he swallowed, but the blissful way his eyelids fluttered shut and his neck craned back contradicted the idea, “they’ll notice we’re gone sooner or later.” 

Fireworks burst in the sky above the tall trees that surrounded you both in this small clearing. Your knees straddled the sides of Luke’s thighs on a flat boulder stuck into the earth below it, a clear circle of dirt surrounding it. There were short wooden signs planted next to the clear path that led you there, pointing an etched-out arrow pointing in the opposite direction towards Camp. Percy Jackson’s nightly celebration was happening only about a mile away from you and your boyfriend's makeout spot, distant cheers and chatter becoming almost quiet from the distance you had from it.

“Please, Percy is probably geeking out about his quest with Chiron and Annabeth is probably celebrating with her siblings. They didn’t even see when we left, like, 15 minutes ago,” you placed a wet kiss on his swollen lips, a small thread of saliva stretching between his pair and yours before the weight of it fell and soaked a tiny spot on Luke’s cargo pants. He let out a low chuckle to accompany your short giggle. “Why did we leave again? Because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? Tsk tsk, Castellan, were you ever taught public decency?”

“Oh, me? Public decency? You were the one who kept whispering things to me all night,” he cleared his throat to achieve the best impersonation of your voice he could get, “God, Luke, I need you so bad, can we please go to our spot? Pretty please?”

You allowed him to continue his harmless teasing while you crossed your arms at the dramatics he was playing, “At least I said please.” Luke rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms tighter around your middle to pull you closer to him. He stuck a chaste kiss through the fabric of your camp t-shirt just above your navel, replacing his lips with the rounded point of his chin afterward.

“Are you ungrateful?” he groaned at the light strike you targeted at his shoulder. “Hey! Did you bring me out here just to attack me?” The small tingle left behind from your hit to his shoulder, the dark marks on his supple neck, and the crescent-moon-shaped indents on his tanned biceps were evidence of your lustrous assault. It was your turn to roll your eyes. 

“Nooo,” you drew out, raking your nimble fingers through the onyx curls that shadowed his forehead. You were silent, almost contemplating your next words, until a small hum from Luke encouraged your words to come back to your mouth. “Just wanted to get away from the kids, s’all,” you shrugged. 

Luke’s sigh was light, but the way his muscles tensed when he leaned backward on his palms told you his anxiety was building.

“Yeah, well, someone has to keep an eye on Clarisse, though. Tonight seems like the night she’d do something, y’know? I just don’t want her getting too close to Percy or Annabeth,” Luke ran a thick finger up and down the side of your body, his eyes tracking the contact nervously. The same knot that tied itself in your stomach during the long night’s you’d spend in Luke’s counselor bedroom was tangled in the pit of your stomach. Only this time, it felt worse. Far worse.

You placed reassuring palms on either side of his jaw, your thumb tracing the raised scar that sliced down the left hemisphere of his face. His heart melted from the delicate looks you always gave him. When he came back from the doomed quest that birthed the mark, you did nothing but look at him like he was made of the purest gold and was standing on a pedestal with a shiny blue ribbon pinned to his chest. 

“She won’t do anything,” despite that knot, you sent him down a smile, “she’s not the lightning thief.” 

As you dismounted his legs, Luke shot you a look of confusion. “Huh?” his eyebrows furrowed together and formed a deep line between them as he looked at you. His eyes shot down to your nimble fingers, fiddling with a ring that fits around your ring finger. He couldn’t remember where you had found it, only remembered when it appeared around its designated digit one day. Luke never thought anything of it, neither did anyone else.

“Don’t tell me you are,” a laugh rumbled in his throat, “don’t be playing tricks on me, angel.”

The ring was now placed in the palm of your right hand and Luke could swear it was glowing, though there were no fireworks in the sky and the moon adorned the sky. You gave him a look that caused the hot summer air to drop in temperature. Goosebumps rippled his skin as he moved to the edge of the rock. 

You closed your fingers around the ring, jerking your wrist as if you were to shoot dice for a game of Yahtzee! and throwing the jewelry into the air, where its metal extended into a 4-foot-long sword. Luke was stunned for words, partially from the impressed look his face morphed into. His eyebrows raised for a moment, gazing at your warrior-like form when you showed off the beautiful sword. Its shaft curved out and the edges looked sharp enough to cut through a stack of papers altogether. but held a traditional sword’s shape. 

This sword made his look like something you’d buy at a souvenir shop.

Then the realization hit him. What were you trying to tell him? He opened his mouth to question you, but you silenced him with a finger that ghosted over his lips. “Shh, it’s what I wanted to show you.” You twisted the leather hilt in your palm, letting the double-edged sword glint in the crackling and colorful light of the fireworks. One side, Luke saw, was celestial bronze – the same material crafted in Percy’s sword, Riptide. The other side looked far more ordinary, as it had been nothing but basic steel. Luke grimaced at the craftsmanship, it was perfect. It could kill both mortals and immortals.

“Where did you get that?” a tremble racked at Luke’s voice, which weakened your prideful smile. He thought you were going to hurt him.

“It doesn’t matter where, Luke, what I can do with it matters,” you reached your free hand to grab his sweaty palm. He hated how easily your skin molded together at this moment and how nothing could stop his fingers from clamping in between yours. Matching braided leather with three tiny beads tied into the middle ground together in the shared hold. The colored beads on your bracelet had been a deep brown to resemble the hue of Luke’s iris’. His had matched the color of yours. 

You raised Backbiter to drag its pointed tip across the air above a tree stump. Following the motion was an opening that disregarded the laws of matter itself. The perimeter of the gleaming cut was a shimmering blue and as the wind passed through the two of you, the slice resembled a piece of torn fabric. It both blew his mind and provoked a shudder to run through his body. His grip on your hand loosened as he gazed into the slit, all he saw was pitch black. But he knew it led somewhere. You cut another slit into the atmosphere, horizontally parallel to the first.

“This is our way out, Luke. Out of this camp and out of the control of the gods, don’t you see? With this, we can’t only kill demigods and mortals at once, but we have the chance to bring an end to the gods’ rule. There’s more where it came from, more weapons, more power, more magic–”

You noticed his silence and called out his name. He only responded with a stiff turn of his head to look at you and the pursing of his lips. Your name came out of his mouth in a whisper. “What are you trying to say to me right now? You’re going to kill the gods? That’s impossible!” He exclaimed, the clap of his hands landing back on his cargo-clad thighs echoing through the woods around you two. Your lips turned into a frown, but the knitting of your eyebrows turned it into a scowl.

“You don’t understand Luke. This isn’t just about getting rid of them, it’s about getting rid of all of the shit they’ve done to us. To me. To you. Hermes left you terrified and unsafe with your mom when she needed his help. Hermes didn’t protect you from monsters or pain. Hermes left you to sulk in your agony alone after sending you into a death trap of a quest and didn’t even console you afterward!” The grip your knuckles had on Backbiter was enough to suffocate a small child if it were wrapped around their throat. You echoed all of Luke’s deepest thoughts and anger back to him, except, it sounded very different when coated in the addicting tone of your voice.

Luke’s chest heaved as the mere mention of his father's name brought a puddle of bile to pool in his mouth. He faced his palm towards you as he snapped his head into a nearby shrub to spit out the distasteful fluid. The dry coughs that rippled from his lungs caused your feet to worryingly scamper to his side, dropping Backbiter into the dirt where you stood.

“I’m sorry,” you sounded so sincere, it suffocated his heart, “fuck, I’m so sorry.” A warm palm rubbed circles onto his back as he continued to spit up a pool of nausea, Luke’s hands gripping his knees to keep his stance steady.

Luke’s spine straightened to its full extension, and in one swift motion, he had your back pinned to a tree and vile words spilling from your mouth. The muscle of his left forearm was shoved against your collarbone as his right hand held an uncomfortable grip around the wrist that was holding Backbiter. His nose scrunched in deep sorrow as he watched your body thrash against his. 

“Luke, let me go! You’re hurting me… Luke… Luke, please,” you begged, your free hand curling around his elbow in an attempt to push it off of you. Even your best efforts could not avail against his strength. Guilty tears brimmed his eyes and traced his scar when he looked at your helpless form, but he knew he couldn’t close his eyes. 

It was heart-wrenching to see the way your desperate kicks and abrupt cries assaulted your body so much it became too weak to physically fight against Luke. He knew you. He knew you didn’t mean any of the profanity coming from your mouth. They were just things you used to fuel the spirit of the fight. But the way you whined his name felt like the equivalent of what he thought a dozen blows from Backbiter felt like.

You looked so angry, so feral, and hungry for blood. Still, he knew that you weren’t hunting his. He knew what you were hunting for wasn’t blood at all, you just wanted love. He thought he had given enough to you, but he finally realized that it wouldn’t be enough. 

He understood. No amount of your love would be enough for him to forget the kind of attention he received from his father (or rather, lack of). Luke sometimes felt like he didn’t have enough blood because if his father didn’t treat him like his son, what was the point of having his DNA? 

Luke felt your chest heave up and down beneath his arm, grinding his teeth together in pain as he watched you fall apart in front of him. You were a child of the goddess of revenge, he thought, it made sense why you were doing this. But Nemesis was also the goddess of balance, she believed that nobody, not even herself, should be too full of themselves. He saw that that was what was bringing you down. You were too confident in your abilities, but what influenced that?

“Luke,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He didn’t know whether to swoon or start crying. “Kronos… he came to me. In my dreams. He promised me the power to defeat the gods if I helped him.”

“Helped him with what?”

“Win. Win in a war between titans and gods. He said I would recruit monsters, mortals, demigods on his side– to our side, Luke. We could finally reach the very top of the food chain. We could get revenge–”

“Stop saying we,” he interrupted. Something washed over your face– something unintelligible to him but something much more hurtful to you. “I’m not– I’m not doing this, okay? You don’t have to either. We’re safe in this camp, we have friends and I… I have you. And I love you, but not this far. You’re asking me to do something impossible.”

You reached a hand up to cup his jaw. It was so soft, almost enough to turn him over itself. “It’s not impossible. We could bring Annabeth and Percy, it would be like we had a family. An actual family. Not one that goes crazy or leaves because you’re different. Do you remember what she said to me, Luke?” contrasting the one holding his face, your white knuckles gripped the hilt of your sword as you spoke of Nemesis, your mother. The fear of you cutting him up into pieces sprinted across his mind for no more than a second. “She asked me who I was. When I was trying to say hello to my own mother, she didn’t even know who I was. It was like… it was like she forgot me, even when I was born from her thoughts.”

She didn’t recognize you. Over the years you let your need for vengeance overpower your wanting for balance. Nemesis couldn’t imagine having a child so corrupt. 

“We’ve been here for years, Luke. Since you were 14 and since I was 15. We did what they wanted, what they asked of us. I am just so sick of that treatment, aren’t you?”

Isn't he?

Your name in his mouth suddenly felt like gravel. It weighed down his jaw like an anvil as he struggled to search for words, his tongue and gums growing dry from the wind that rustled the leaves and whistled around you. 

Luke thought about it for a second. Glory. Love. Revenge. The gods have wronged him, the god has wronged him. The one god assigned to protect Luke instead wanted nothing to do with him or his mother. Hermes was nothing but a deadbeat who slept around with women he knew he wouldn’t be able to support. What kind of bullshit is that? Gods pick and choose their favorites.

Like Percy. 

He had met five gods in two weeks and came back to Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a few scratches on his body and an assload of glorious reputation tied to his name. Luke came back from his quest feeling like he lost his beauty and lost his best friend to Zeus turning her into a tree, for gods sake. 

“Don’t leave me in the dark, Luke. Come with me, help Kronos build his army. He faced the same abuse from the gods we have, he can revive and we can make the world a better place!”

Luke felt so stupid. How couldn’t he have seen any of this? He thought about a house you two would have, and how it would be filled with your family. Luke, you and Annabeth. It would be ordinary; a porch, two bedrooms, and a warm, welcoming bed you and Luke would share. All he ever wanted was to just be normal, he could be normal in that ordinary little house with you. Maybe his mother would visit every weekend.

During his web of thought, you took the advantage to twist out of his captive hold and establish a comfortable distance between the two. Backbiter, which was 4 feet long, separated his body from yours, perched in your hold between you two. “I’m not going to fight you, Luke. I love you.”

He gulped, the movement of his adam's apple brushing against the tip of your sword. He realized that nothing would stop you from following Kronos, not even him. You’d been lovers for two years, friends for more. How could you do this to him? 

With every last drop of hope he had in his being, Luke leaped around the blade you held to grab onto the hilt. You two began to tug and push one another off of the sword in an attempt to possess its full control. He hadn’t even had his sword, not knowing the need for it when the night began. 

Luke’s elbow jabbed against your forehead, the assault hard enough to split the skin and begin a skinny trail of blood to spill down the side of your face. Grunts and gripes were breathlessly spat out of your mouths during the tug-of-war. You slammed your hips against his side, knocking his body to the mulch that covered the forest floor. He planted his feet on the ground, managing to keep his grip on the sword, despite the tip now being pointed back to him. A sheen of sweat coated every inch of your skin from the thick summer air, but it was surprising how the sword slipped from Luke’s grasp instead of your own. 

You stumbled back, turning towards the portal to slice into the invisible fabric more. It now looked like a disfigured ‘H’. The Portal was officially open. Turning to look at Luke again, you held out your hand. “Please, Luke,” your voice was soft, pleading, almost as if you were begging him not to be on the opposite side of this war. He knew what he was giving up if he didn’t take your hand and follow you into that dark abyss. Stepping over Luke's legs, your feet planted themselves on the ground next to his hips. One on each side. 

The whoosh of a flying dagger flew toward you, causing your reflexes to raise your sword and deflect it– but during the defense, the sharp edge of the dagger nicked the webbing of your thumb enough for Backbiter to be sent against the boulder in the middle of the clearing. You hissed at your hand, watching the blood spill from your supple skin and drop onto Luke’s orange camp shirt below.

Luke looked in the direction of the attack. He knew that if he joined you in this war he wouldn’t have any regrets when it came to the relationship between him and his father, but the one thing that held him back was standing in the walking trail a few feet behind your back. 

Every feature on her face dropped as her eyes flickered between you two in shock. “Annabeth,” Luke exhaled, feeling your presence move to his side. Even in the booming sound of fireworks around the three of you, he could hear you swallow a stinging taste of bile. When he looked at your face, it had nothing but guilt painted and seeping into your features. 

You repeated the name, the beginning of it getting caught in your throat as tears began to brim your waterline. She was just a kid. You were all only kids, but that never validated the treatment you all received. Your eyes flicked down to Backbiter, and how it had now been buried under mulch and earth. Annabeth had been just as much of a little sister to you as she had been to Luke.

“He’s using you and it won’t end well,” Luke propped his body weight onto his elbows, looking up at you. He had a sneaky feeling that when he said your name this time, it would be the last.

A wet tear fell from your eye, running its trail down your cheek – mixing with dirt and blood. Your eyes darted back to Annabeth, whose sharp inhale jump-started your burning calves to leap toward the portal you had made with the magical weapon. Annabeth attempted to run after you, but the portal closed in the span of a millisecond, leaving her to nearly trip over the tree stump that lay beneath it.

When they looked back, Backbiter was gone. Back on your ring finger, he assumed, pressing against old, wrinkled skin in a handshake with one you now called master.

loverschatbox, 2024

[24kmar]

take me back to georgia back to atlanta 🗣

[24kmar]

✮ CRYING ON SATURDAY NIGHT

pairing: psycho!matt sturniolo x fem!reader [ implied/past tense ]

synopsis: in which matt has always leaned towards all things horrifying and brutal his entire life, his very obvious issues coming out in the form of a deeply disturbing interest in gore, murder, death. he’s always known that he needs help but he’s also always been capable of keeping his instincts under control, until that fateful saturday night.

warnings: angst, blood, gore, death, guns, fire, slightly descriptive murder, swearing. literally nothing happy.

THIRD PERSON POV

everyone knows that there are three extremely distinct signs of something evil, dark, and severely fucked up manifesting in someone. and they primarily show during one’s childhood.

the signs are bed-wetting, cruelty towards animals, and some sort of obsession with either fire or something that can seriously harm, maim, or even kill someone.

and for matt, he never showed those three specific signs, but he did show a heavy and deeply twisted interest in horror, gore, death, and murder from a young age. he loved watching horror movies from as young as six. he would grow giddy as the fake blood spewed across the screen, he would even laugh as the victims in the movies died gruesome deaths.

his traits manifested in the sign of extreme intelligence despite struggling horribly in school, a strong lack of remorse and empathy, no genuine emotional connection to anyone or thing, extreme poorly regulated anger, narcissistic behaviour, and ease when it came to manipulation paired with an unbelievable level of charm.

he was never harmed or abused as a kid, in fact he grew up in an extremely stable and loving family, so when his parents started noticing how…different, matt appeared compared to other children his age, especially his brothers, they were concerned. at first they thought it was a phase, him trying to be like the effortlessly cool guys he saw in the movies he loved, until he “accidentally” set his family home on fire one day while playing with matches.

he was striking the matches, letting them burn out until they were nothing but nubs before tossing them to the floor, and chris had walked into the room, ignoring matt’s actions until he got nervous, and then chris proceeded to yell for matt to stop and that just egged matt on, so instead of listening, he took a handful of matches, struck them, and threw them in the recycling bin full of cardboard boxes and newspapers before holding chris in his arms, preventing his brother from ratting on him. matt forced chris to watch as the flames grew to a increasingly dangerous height, his eyes glistening at the sight of his creation, before letting chris run to warn their parents.

from that moment on, matt’s parents were deeply worried and took matt to therapy, in hopes that it’d help, and it did, until the one saturday night that ruined everything.

THERE’S FIFTY-TWO WAYS TO MURDER ANYONE, ONE AND TWO ARE THE SAME BUT THEY BOTH WORK AS WELL.

matt mulled over every way he’s seen someone kill another person in the movies in his head, trying to figure out what the fuck to do with the unconscious douchebag in the trunk of his car. he knew about fifty-two ways to kill someone total.

if he had taken his meds this morning, he wouldn’t have hunted the guy that you went on a with down, he wouldn’t have picked the lock and snuck into the stupid asshole’s closest, holding a police grade flashlight in his hand, the weight of the metal cylinder heavy beneath fingers, waiting until tyler opened the door to clock him over the head with it.

but he had no time to dwell over what he didn’t do, and instead he drove to his family’s cape cod house, the first two ways that popped into his head were suffocation and strangulation, but considering tyler’s build, it’d take far too long. he took a moment to breathe as he reached over and popped open the glove box, finding a box of matches sitting atop the insurance papers and the glock that he bought as soon as he turned eighteen, and an idea came to him.

as he pulled into the driveway of the family lake-house, he pocketed the matches and tucked the gun into his waistband before popping open the trunk and dragging tyler over to the fire pit, throwing his body in the middle of it before grabbing the rope from his trunk, quickly binding the guy’s arms and legs together. as he waited for him to wake up, he texted you, telling you to come to the cape house, stating it was an emergency.

when tyler woke up again, he was quick to knock him out again, planning to lead you in through the front of the house. but when your car pulled up, matt wasn’t sure what to do because you were quick to climb out and run over to him, your body trembling as you realized what matt had done.

I KNOW WHEN YOU’RE HOME, I WAS THINKING ABOUT YOU // YOU GO VICIOUSLY, QUIETLY AWAY.

your hand shook as you covered your mouth, you couldn’t fathom what you were seeing. you knew matt had some issues, and that he had a few dark fantasies but you never thought that matt, the quiet, seemingly gentle boy from your history class, was capable of murder. there was no way that your best friend, your matt, was capable of something so gruesome but he was.

“what the fuck is wrong with you matt?” you scream, unable to move your feet, feeling anchored to the spot you stood in.

“listen i didn’t want to do this, but seeing you with him set me off. i wanted to drop by your house and surprise you because i was thinking about you and i know when you’re home, but you weren’t home. so i checked your location. and then i drove by and saw you with him.” matt spits, his mind racing as he tried to reason with you.

“so what? did you ambush him in the fucking parking lot?”

“no. i tracked him down and whacked him with a flashlight and drove him here before calling you. it wasn’t hard to track him down considering how well known his family is.” matt scoffs, rolling his eyes as if that was the most obvious answer.

“you’re sick. did you call me here so you could kill me too?” you seethe, growing angry with matt’s audacity and terrified of how dangerous matt truly was.

“no. i called you here to prove that i’m doing this for you. for us. without tyler, there’s nothing standing in our way and we’ll be able to finally be together.” matt hums, his demeanour eerily calm as he flicks a handful of matches, throwing them on to tyler’s now dead and gasoline soaked body, matt had underestimated how hard the last whack to tyler’s head was before dumping a can of gasoline on him.

your sobs echoed in matt’s head as the flames grew, once again finding himself entranced by the way he could cause such a beautiful thing.

“you’re fucked in the head! i could never love someone like you!” you scream, watching as matt laughs at your comment before turning around and walking over you to, taking you face in his hands, you wanted to rip yourself away from him, to push him off of you, but you stood frozen in fear as matt looks at you.

“you don’t mean that, sweetheart.” matt whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, bringing you back to reality as you shove him away.

“don’t touch me you sick bastard! i will never love a demented monster like you. you should’ve been locked up from birth or even worse, i wish you died in the fire you started as a kid.” you screech, watching as matt’s jaw clenches, his hand slipping beneath his sweater, your heart pounding as you see the gun sitting in his hand, realizing it’s now aimed at you.

“take it back you bitch. say you don’t mean it and i can spare you and we can run away and live together and fall in love.” matt whispers, his voice cracking as your words cut him deep, all he wanted was for you, for someone, to actually love him, but the things you were saying were making him think you couldn’t and if he couldn’t have you, no one else will.

“no. i don’t want to love someone as severely fucked as -“ your words were cut off as a gunshot rang through the air, and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears, and suddenly you felt something warm dripping down the front of your body. you went to wipe it away but in the gleam of the fire you see the thick, dark liquid coating your fingers, as you slowly fall to your knees.

matt had shot you in the chest.

“no no no. fuck!” matt mumbles as he pulls you into his lap, his hands trembling as he brushes your hair back, the blood in your mouth gurgling as you struggle to breath. the blood pools in your mouth causing you to cough and spit up a mouthful of blood.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart.” he whispers, tears falling down his face as he feels a strong sense of guilt for the the first time in his life, scared of what was going to happen.

“if you’re really sorry-“ you start, pausing to spit out more blood,

“you’ll turn yourself in.”

matt sobs against your shoulder, holding you tight to him as your body grows colder by the second, your breathing growing ragged and short, the time between each breath growing longer than the last. matt holds you for a long time after your last breath, softly brushing his fingers through your hair, whimpering as it grows matted with blood.

BUT THE BACKSEAT OF THE DRIVE-IN IS SO LONELY WITHOUT YOU // THERE WAS SOMETHING I FORGOT TO SAY, I WAS CRYING ON SATURDAY NIGHT, I WAS OUT CRUISING WITHOUT YOU, THERE WERE PLAYING OUR SONG.

as matt drove back to the city, his head filled with everything he forgot to tell you before you died in his arms. he had taken what you said in your past moments seriously, deciding that if he wants to genuinely make peace with himself and what he had done, he needed to confess to his crimes.

but a song on the radio caught his attention, BRIGHTSIDE by the lumineers, which was coincidentally yours and matt’s song. and subconsciously, he headed toward your favourite place. the drive-in theatre just outside of the city.

as he parked in the back row of the drive-in, he climbed into the backseat, listening to the rest of the song play as he sobbed against his hands. he knew what he had done, and there was no way to undo what he had done, so as the song finished, he climbed back behind the wheel and drove toward the police station.

AND THE COPS WONT LISTEN ALL NIGHT, AND MAYBE I’LL BE OVER JUST AS SOON AS I FILL THEM ALL IN.

as matt sat in the interrogation room, he mulled over what he could do if they set him free while the cops investigated. he figured he could possibly stop by your house, and sit in your room and smoke a cigarette, like you two used to do in highschool, one last time.

or maybe he could find a way to end his life, so he could see you one last time and hug you again, and apologize for how irrationally he acted.

but the one thing he did know was that he was coming clean for you, honouring your last words.

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[24kmar]

YESSSSSSSSS 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

what’s your favourite song?

I’ll give you my top 5 right now

Carnival - Kanye, carti, ¥$, Ty dollar sign

what you heard - sonder

antidote - Travis Scott ( my man )

say it - tory lanez

doves in the wind - Sza ( mommy ), Kendrick Lamar