#*pipe murder noises

[ineffablewhovianholmes]

Bro was ceaselessly watching

[ashpkat]

old men i am in love with (an updated list, from a woman kisser):

- elias bouchard (as of Now)

- master joseph (as of [REDACTED])

- emperor belos (i’m stopping this as of bullshit you don’t wanna know)

- claude frollo (um)

thank you and goodnight

[uncarbonatedmilk]

*checks watch* oh would you look at that its time for my daily mandated autism

[thebookofthefaeries]

It's Peter's third eighth divorce gift for Elias

funniest art interaction i’ve ever seen

[conspicuousval]

Just random appreciation post but man I really do love my mom. I feel like she has every right to be way less supporting and accommodating of me than she is but she's always been my number one defender for all the things that aren't normal about me. I know that if someone tried to judge me for asking constant simple questions like that she'd honestly probably try to fist fight them but it's nice for reassurance that she's not sick of it. Even if I'm constantly asking questions like ok but this is actually our address right? This is the number? This is how exactly I go about every small step of this? I'm not majorly fucking it up right? These *long list of every worst case scenario* aren't going to happen right? Right? Honestly a true pro at assuring me I'm not gonna die every single day.

[tittiesnhrtz]

prisoner!ellie hcs

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ mostly keeps to herself and spends most of her time reading or drawing in the shabby prison library, or jogging and working out in the yard, trying to stay out of trouble. but, she ends up making enemies anyway because of her snarky mouth.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she either got in for selling drugs or murder, there's no in between. if it's the latter, she cries herself to sleep some nights, too sorrow-stricken—even if she believes they deserved it—to care about waking up other prisoners.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ who’s trying (keyword: trying) so hard to not get a shot from the prison guards everyday. but her stubbornness and temper know better.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she tries to ignore you when she finds out you’re her new cell mate. but let’s be honest, who doesn’t get lonely in that shithole? so she eventually warms up to you and even offers her commissary sometimes.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she finds herself growing attached to you; like a wasp to the saccharine nectar of an entrancing flower. she goes wherever you go and the whole prison knows you both are inseparable.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ it isn’t long until she’s catching feelings for you, trying so hard to not look or blush when you’re taking a shower in the communal bathroom, and she’s waiting outside, holding the towel for you.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she would never make the first move. she’s too busy overthinking and trying not to read between the lines, that the whole prison realises you're flirting with her before she does.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ when the prison lights are off and the other prisoners are out like light, she makes space for you in her bottom bunk so you can lie down next to her and have your daily deep conversations. she’d find herself transfixed, listening to you ramble about the most random things, drawing deeper meanings even from the ridiculous, the only source of light being the moonlight spilling through the tiny window. she’s truly grateful for having found someone like you when she’d lost hope and succumbed to the darkness.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she broke out into a fight with one of the prisoners who was calling you names, punching the other girl in the eye and what not. the prison broke into a commotion and poor girl got sent to shu (solitary confinement) for a week. when she returned to your worried face and puffy red eyes, her heart ached and she swore she’d never let her temper get the best of her again. but she had to admit, she was in cloud nine seeing you cared about her just as much as she did for you.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she fumbles over her words and blushes so hard when you call her your prison wife jokingly. she mumbles a 'shut up' though she's not opposed to the idea, not even a bit.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you finally make a move when you realize she's never going to and she'd go as far as to learn how to live with her feelings suppressed.

she's walking back from her work that pays less than a dollar, after having helped fix some broken pipes, when she sees you waiting for her.

“you waitin’ on me?” she questions after approaching you in long strides. she was sweaty, covered in dirt and grime and in desperate need of a shower.

but that didn’t stop you from leaning in and kissing her. after being in a prison for months, hygiene was the least of your concerns.

a surprised noise leaves her lips, but soon she’s fluttering her eyes close and relishing the moment. she smelt like a mix of the mango sorbet scented soap you both shared and sweat. when the kiss starts to deepen, she pulls away, conscious of her state.

“i’m pretty nasty.” she laughs awkwardly, her cheeks flushed.

“do you wanna be my prison wife?”

her eyes widen at the question, you sound serious and you’re not joking this time. she stares at you for a whole minute, processing your words before she breaks out into a giggle. she gives you that smile, her dimples on display.

“i’ll consider it.” she says, although, internally she’s screaming ‘yes’ and fighting the urge to hug you.

kinda nsfw

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ a lot of quickies in the bathroom or behind the secluded cabin in the yard. head buried in each other’s shoulders or hand clamping the mouth of the other’s to not get caught by the creepy guards or other prisoners.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ when you finally get some privacy, she makes sure she can hear every sound you make, watching your reactions closely like she’s trying to memorise it and hold onto it for thinking about it when she’s away from you.

“you like that, baby?” her words vibrate against your clit, eliciting a moan from you.

“yeah, you like that.” she giggles as she looks up at you through her eyelashes, making eye contact, before she goes back to devouring your pussy.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she’s not satisfied until she’s pulled four orgasms from you on most days. she just loves seeing you all fucked out, knowing she was the one who caused it.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ always groping your ass in public or smacking it when she thinks the guards aren’t looking. when you’re in the prison cafeteria feeding her her meal—because to her the slop they serve is bearable only when it’s your fingers wrapping around the spoon and bringing the food up to her mouth—she’ll slide a hand up your thigh and rest it awfully close to your cunt, drawing stars near the area, as she looks at you with an innocent smile.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she’s extremely needy some days. especially after a tiresome day at work and not being able to see you as the officers piled extra work on her. not even two minutes into kissing and she’s already humping your thigh, her slick sticking to her underwear. she’ll whine pathetically, all the while complaining about how tired she is and how much she missed you, making you just give in instead of teasing her.

bonus

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ when she finds out you’re getting released, her heart feels heavy, like someone just squeezed lemon juice on her open wounds. she sucks it up and pretends to be happy for you nonetheless, knowing you’ll finally get to take a proper shower, eat normal food and sleep on a bed that doesn’t give you neck pain every single day.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ but, what if she mattered to you only in the confined grounds of prison? what if you’ll forget her the minute you step outside? you’ll just walk out into the world, make new friends, new experiences, and a life that will no longer include her. these thoughts gnaw at her but she never asks you about it.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she doesn’t do a very good job at hiding her worries though. you see right through her facade and assure her you’ll be waiting for her on the other side. and you stick true to your words, sending her letters, calling her during ‘phone time’ and visiting her almost everyday during visitation hours. you tell her about your life and how the parole officer is still a pain in the ass while she tells you about the prison gossip and how lonely it feels without you.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ she’s on her best behaviour all the time, her main motive being to serve her time and get out so she can be with you, properly. so when she finally gets released, the first thing she does is ask joel to buy a diamond ring, saying she’ll lend him the money back, and meet her outside the prison. she knows you’d be waiting for her in the car to pick her up from the prison. after bidding joel goodbye, she jogs over to your car and throws herself in the passenger seat.

“hey, baby.” she grins, buzzing with excitement, anticipation and anxiousness. she was finally free and it took all her self control to not fling herself onto you and make love to you right here after yearning for the warmth of your touch for so long.

“hey.” you manage a smile, feeling overwhelmed by seeing her, and this time without a guard monitoring interactions between an inmate and a visitor.

“fuck, that was the longest five years of my life.” she leaned back in her seat and let out a soft sigh. her hand reaches over the centre console, coming to rest on your thigh. her fingers tap a nervous rhythm as she looks at you. she’d been planning this moment for months, but now that it was happening, she felt nervous as hell.

she pulled her clammy hand away from your thigh, inhaling sharply as she averted her gaze. her fingers fiddled with the small ring box before pulling it out. “uh..do you want to be my prison wife, but without the ‘prison’?”

[bruciemilf]

The Wayne manor is not a quiet place.

Someone Is always doing something, talking about anything, teasing, bantering, playfully slandering, so Bruce grew accustomed to noise. Its hard not to, with his nest of birds.

But this particular topic has him on mute;

"Why do YOU get him when he's old?"

" Oh my GOD, Jason, I'm LITERALLY the oldest. You ALWAYS have to get everything!"

Jason isn't at all interested in Dick's dramatics. He wraps all 6'4 inches around Bruce's leg like an affectionate leech. "You're the fucking meanest! You'll probably feed B those gross ass protein shakes and force him to watch re runs of Realest Housewives of Gotham!"

"YOU TRIED TO BLOW HIM UP!"

Cass is strong like a tsunami and silent as a snake, jumping on Bruce's back, beautiful eyes full of threat. " Dad stays. Mine."

Bruce pipes up, " I have a retirement plan--"

"Getting railed everyday at the Kent farm isn't a retirement!"

Tim gives Steph a look of disgust. "Gross."

Damian isn't above pulling out his swords. " If I don't get Baba, everyone is dying. Me included. "

"Damian. What did I say about threatening your siblings with murder?" Bruce asks expectantly.

" Oh, I'm not threatening, baba. I'm making a vow."

Alfred doesn't pry his attention from the chamomile tea he's preparing. " Master Bruce stays with me."

"...Alfred, I don't think you'll...You know, be around when Bruce retires--"

"Was that a contradiction?"

They all gulp. The argument is settled quickly, and Bruce spends the rest of his evening with head on Alfred's lap and his hand in Jason's hair, petting like a cat, and listening to RHOG on the TV.

He loves the noise.

[jinxed-newyork]

SMOKE & FOG

0.1 Red Smoke

pairing: jinx x reader (romantic) , isha x reader (siblings)

synopsis: Your entire life has been dictated by a debt you owe to Smeech, one that grows with every move you make. He holds your sister and you on a tight leash, one mistake leads to your sister being taken and your only option is to fight or die.

word count: 2.7K

warnings: villainous activity, murder, oppression, mistreatment, blood & gore, hurt/comfort, drugs & drug use, canon violence, suggestive themes, angst, spoilers, cursing, fighting !!

Red smoke filled the air, perhaps it was the blood dribbling that mixed with the air around it, or it was the suffocating rage from every child who watched as their parents, cousins, siblings and friends were torn to shreds by the flying bullets. There was no one who could save the poor souls on that bridge, there was barely anyone left alive except for Vander, his grunts of pain and adrenaline could be heard through the bridge, screams and cries of pain and terror came from those he faced off against and yet after a moment, it just stopped. There was nothing. Just silence. My body was hunched under a rock, shielding my little sister’s extremely frail body in my arms, she was a baby, still wrapped up in a little blanket that we could barely afford, her cries came from every loud noise and all I could do was attempt to shush her– fear and adrenaline being the only reminder of why I was still under here with her. However whenever the loud noises stopped and shooting gave out, what replaced it were footsteps. The relief that coursed through my body was unimaginable. Finally, it was over, win or lose. I didn't care, I just wanted to escape back home with Isha and our parents. 

There was a silence that raged over the bridge as I climbed out, bodies piling on top of others, eyes wide open with dread still stricken upon their face, they all looked scared as if they weren’t ready for death and yet here their lifeless bodies laid. It was sickening, a soft cry escaped my lips as tears welled up in my eyes, where were our parents? Where did they go? They were on this bridge just like everyone else so where were they? I couldn’t run, as much urgency was in my body, I couldn’t move my legs fast enough to form a sprint, I just walked. Shielding the little girl in my arms from all the pain and terror, I wouldn’t let her see this, I wouldn’t let her remember this, I wouldn’t let her grow up in a time like this– it was all gonna change, it was gonna be different whenever she was growing up. Those thoughts in my head were the only thing that kept my head up high as I walked past the bodies. The bodies of friends and our parents, the bodies of those who fought so hard for something that should be a human right, whether they were from Zaun or from Piltover. The bodies of those who fought for Respect. 

The rain is riotous, beating down on the small covers and hoods of those walking the streets of the undercity, no man or woman laid safe. One foot in front of the other, don’t look around. My gaze held towards the floor, looking around would only drag me into the reality I live in. Children on the streets without parents, working for scammers and con artists, insufferable and disgusting but we had to make money somehow. Not everyone was gifted with a silver spoon in their mouth and a warm bed to sleep in, not everyone was given private dance lessons and piping hot food that could feed an entire village for just one meal. Not everyone was born in Piltover and the price? Your life. There was no respect in the city of Zaun, at least not anymore, Vander was killed by Silco in some raging fight that took place in a warehouse and he was the people’s last standing symbol of peace. After Silco took over, shimmer raged through the streets and took over like a disease, even after his death it still runs rampant thanks to his goons. I am one of those goons, I am someone keeping it on the street, money is money and a job is a job, it hurts so many people but I do what I have to do to keep my family safe. 

A small groan of annoyance escaped my mouth. I was only 17 years old but I had the weight of another human laid atop my shoulders. She could be no older than 7 but definitely not younger than 5 years of age, Isha, my sister. I don’t really know when her birthday is, not like we could celebrate it anyways, there are no birth certificates or calendar here, so we just assumed that it's sometime during the end of the year because that's whenever our parents would say happy birthday. 11/16, that is the birthday I have written down for her, the only one we care to acknowledge. My mind filled with grief as I entered the booming building, music blaring from the speakers and the cacophony of deals being made by every wall in his building was overwhelming and sickening. I turned my nose up in disgust (not like I was any better than them), as I turned towards the office building, a high rise, with glass windows to watch over the place as if he was some ghost. Smeech, one of the worst men I have ever met in my entire life, he had no good qualities, I would have rather he not offered me this job at all then let me watch as people waste their lives trying to get even a sniff of shimmer. Good and bad news was that the selling rate was down, more people were getting snatched off the streets while trying to find buyers and the production rate was too high to keep up with the missing sellers so whoever was left had to pick up the pace. 

Caitlyn Kiramman’s enforcers were running circles around us, she made us look like chickens with our heads up off, which wouldn’t have mattered to me if it wasn’t for the fact that I couldn’t keep up. I had too many boxes on me at a time and too many lurkers and followers while trying to do my job, if he kept pushing me like this then I’d certainly get caught. With a heavy knock on his door, I pushed it open without waiting for confirmation– this was important. The rat creature moaned in annoyance upon even seeing my face.

  “What do you want, child?” The sickening smoke of shimmer made its way out of his mouth while he smoked, filling the room with its pungent smell. Had it not been such an addictive drug I would have been turned away but something kept my feet from moving, a small inhale was all I took before turning my head away from his nonsense. “Less materials on my person. I’m carrying way too much cargo with not enough people to give it to. All my regulars are in hiding because of the enforcers or have already been grabbed! I have no one to sell to and walking around with even a drop of shimmer will get people arrested nowadays. What do you think they’ll do to me with eight vials full of it?” Despite the urgency in my voice, I didn’t raise my volume or lose my cool, I knew better than that, I knew my place, I wasn’t gonna be killed over such a trivial thing. I couldn’t be killed, I had to make it back home to raise Isha and make sure that she wasn’t alone, if I didn’t do it then no one would. “You’re a smart enough kid, you can figure it out. You sell the product, you get the money and you give it back to me. You’re already behind on repaying this debt of yours, don’t make me charge you an annoyance fee.” My debt.

I owed him my life because he was willing to take me in and promised that as soon as I paid him off he would let me and Isha go however every time I got even remotely close to freeing us, he would charge me some random out of the blue fee and added it to my tab making it once again out of reach. I knew it was on purpose, I knew he was never truly going to let us go but there was a small hope in that mind that maybe one day I could make enough money so that he doesn’t expect it, so that he has to let us go. A whine escaped my throat as I tried to reason with him, as I pleaded. “But sir-” “Make it a stupidity fee, how are you this incompetent? It’s just business sweetheart, and you’re behind on your dues anyways, there isn’t much room for you to be arguing with me. Out.”

I didn’t say a word after that, I couldn’t, I took whatever strength I had that would carry me out of the room and pushed until it led me out of the building. 

Two hours later and I’ve only sold two vials, one to an elderly woman who looked like she was well on her way to death’s door, I tried to convince her that it wasn’t actually worth it to buy but she didn’t listen, something about being glad that she didn’t have to spend another moment down here was freeing to her and the second vial to someone from Silco’s old crew. They could buy plenty more but they chose not to directly interact with Smeech himself so they went through his buyers and even though we aren’t supposed to sell it to them, I did anyway. I tossed the gold coins up into the air with a smile, I completely overcharged him but who cares? “When did we say selling to Silco’s crew was back on the table, blighter?” Debt collectors, they roamed the streets while we were making deals, my head wasn’t in the right place, I completely forgot. Stuffing the coins into the small bag across my waist, I shrugged. “What’s it to you? We’re all charlatans, are we going to bypass the fact that you guys are charging children for crimes they didn’t commit to keep them in your debt? Or the old people you trick into owing their entire lives to you knowing that they won’t be able to afford it?”

My teeth clicked in arrogance, I held nothing over them but calling them out felt good to roll off the tongue, they needed to be checked every now and then too. “You’re just blood thirsty animals.” They scoffed at me, scoffed, my presence to them was insignificant, that I was aware of but seeing it play out in front of me still stabbed at my heart a little bit. “You forget yourself blighter. Perhaps we should.. remind you? Yeah?” The confirmation wasn’t for me and yet I couldn’t stop my head from shaking. This was going to end in bloodshed, there was no avoiding it but I wasn’t scared, I couldn't be scared of them. One thing went through my mind,  I have to get home to Isha. My hands raised to cover my face, eyes peeking out behind my clenched fists to stare them down, I was ready for a fight.

I shouldn’t have been so naive to think that I could fight all three of them at once, however it was the only option. The taller gentleman rushed towards me first, swinging his arms in whatever way they would move towards my body. I looked like a child compared to them, they were unnaturally tall and buff and their suits didn’t hide it at all. My body dipped towards the floor as his hands rammed into the wall, I swore I could feel the ground shake, but that didn’t waver my spirit. I struck his chest with every force in my body, it wasn’t a lot but enough to knock him back up against that very same corner, not even a second to breath as I was bombarded with another man racing towards me, his palm struck my side, launching me into the wall. It cracked upon impact and my body felt like it shattered, every limb hurt to move, with a split second I moved to the right, his second punch landing into the wall right next to me. My eyes expanded and my pupils dilated and I pulled away from the wall and steadied my body and stance once again, but arms wrapped around me, a crushing weight that stayed on top of me and kept me in place. A scream erupted from my throat as I tried to escape, struggling in every direction as the weight on top of me only got worse, it got tighter, more restricting until crack. The vials. The shimmer, it was still in my bag, how many vials did he crush? Was it seeping into my skin? My mind went blank, the weight was no longer crushing  me but I didn’t know what was happening? My face connected with the floor, was I dropped or did I hurt him? I didn’t mean to hurt them, even though they probably could have killed me. The intention wasn’t to get anyone hurt besides a simple warning. 

When my eyes opened again all of them were on the floor, blood spilled out of wounds I didn’t remember making and my hands were covered in it. I tried wiping my face but it only smeared the blood already there, what have I done? Before I could make sense of anything the screeching from an enforcer came from the other side of the alleyway. I shook my head, this wasn’t me, I didn’t do this! I was innocent! Why wouldn’t my mouth open to explain? I opened up the pouch and raised one of the vials, I still had four safe but two of them were cracked, those were probably the two affecting my mind, my heart, my body. I could hear my heart in my ears, the thumping and beating as if I was inhuman, was I still human at this point? As soon as I raised the vial of shimmer, their guns were out? Panic was sewn into my nerves, I couldn’t get shot, were they gonna kill me? Leave my body for dead? Would I ever be found? Isha. My mind went blank and my eyes were bloodshot, I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t see straight, I blacked out. 

When I woke all I could feel was crimson dripping down my hand, the puddle beneath me only growing wider, spreading through the cracks in the small alleyway. Enforcers. Dead. Three Enforcers were dead and three debt collectors right next to them. The topsiders would hear news of this soon and my boss would hear about his debt collectors being missing but I couldn’t worry about it, what was the last thing I was thinking about? Isha? Isha. Where was she? Where is my sister? I couldn’t care less about the head I bashed into the wall just a moment ago or the knife I plunged into another man’s throat or the Enforcer’s gun that I lodged into a man’s side as a distraction before his untimely death. Smeech’s debt collectors would probably be after her especially if they were after me, they knew where I was so they certainly had to know where she was. 

I needed to get back to my sister. My sister. My sister, Isha, I need to get back to her. Ichor running down my arm no longer bothered me, the ever growing pain in my abdomen only lingered as I ran and yet I didn’t stop. I couldn’t even remember how I got that injury but I couldn’t stop, my legs carried me to the last place I saw her. Three more dead debt collectors (this seemed to be a brand), shot straight through the head. Clean. Not a single mistake, completely intentional, whoever made the shot knew exactly what they were doing. A waft of pink smoke wavered from the body, it was fre- pink? shit. Jinx. There was only one person in town creating such imagery and also being such a great shot, no enforcers were in town (not anymore) and to be honest none of them were this great of a shot even if it was close range. The wanted posters of her face made her look psychotic, terrifying, right on brand to what the topsiders thought everyone looked like. I couldn’t let this go, I was still alive and the dead men meant that my sister was still out there too. 

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the very first chapter!

taglist ; @llycrow @katethejinxwife @hank-girl @ayedomino0 @jiunxo @vivispace @d-demqn

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ taking a steamy bath with rafayel

warnings: suggestive content, rafayel and my delusions, slight nudity (male), not proof read bc i’m too ashamed of what i wrote

character: rafayel

link to master list here~

author’s notes; written because of rafayel’s misty invitation card.

i don’t write smut because i think i’d pass away from embarrassment but this card? this card almost turned me to the dark side.

more under the cut :3

“Hey cutie, why don’t we wash off together?”

painting and baking are not similar. at all.

one is the creation of visual art and one is the creation of edible art

so i don’t know why you and rafayel are surprised when your cake just, exploded. well not the cake but the icing bag sure did.

rafayel claims it wasn’t his fault, but he tried to pipe the icing without cutting the fucking bag, so he was just squeezing the bag until it popped.

good job.

now you’re both splattered with bits of red icing - and if you squinted hard enough it looked as if you two where the prime suspects of a murder

you don’t even get mad at the now very messy cake - instead opting to laugh at rafayel who is clearly distressed at the icing covering his hands and upper half of his body

“Ugh, is this going to stain my shirt?”

of course, typical rafayel whining.

you notice some icing dripping down his jaw - down his neck - and grin, thinking of a new way to tease the distressed lumerian

so of course, rather than just wiping it off with a tissue, or your thumb, you decide that sticking out your tongue and gently lick his neck.

you lick his neck.

his neck.

rafayel immediately flushes, a delicious look of utter confusion, fluster and shock blend into one as you pull back

oh the emotions on his face are just priceless, or very hot.

depends if you like your men partially dumbfounded and partially (very) attracted simultaneously

“Hey… [YN] what are you doing?”

awwwwhjswhd he’s going to be turning so red, he flushes too easily for his own good

you notice the flush, how it spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, down his neck and chest

silently you wonder if his nipples blush too

keep licking up small bits of the icing on him, caressing your tongue over his collar bones, make sure to suck off every last drop of that icing

the icing is sweet - or is it rafayel?

his breathing gets heavier, and small sighs of content leave his lips every now and then

his face is kind of scrunched into a frown, you’d think he was walking in baked beans with bare feet with how displeasured he looked (specific i know) but really he was just trying not to make more noises

one of his hands are covering his mouth, palm facing outwards, as if he were trying to muffle his own noises

unfortunately that concept doesn’t sit well with you (nor me) - so you decide to get a little more frisky…

as you kiss his neck, pop open the top button of his shirt and part it, dip down and nibble along his collar bone

his hands that were pushing you back are now just holding onto you, his eyes a little dazed, trying to focus on your face - but whenever you look up at him he gets too embarrassed and looks away

kiss, bite, lick at his freckles/beauty marks on his skin and he’ll shudder - trying to prevent any blood travelling south

now he’s letting out more noises, and his grip on you tightens again as he pants

when he finally pulls you up his face is dusted in a beautiful blush, eyebrows furrowed but his pupils are dilated - his chest is exposed showing you that his nipples do in-fact blush - horray!

pushing you back, rafayel takes in your figure, eyes scanning you from bottom to top before they focus on your eyes

“You’ve got icing all over you too… [YN]”

you sometimes forget how strong rafayel is - yet when he scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom you quickly dismiss the idea of a frail, unfit painter

he swiftly switches on the bath before you go back to absolutely ravaging the poor man

i’m talking shirt open, mouth-on-chest, eye rolling goodness

at some point your shirt and trousers were discarded on the floor - and his shirt was flung out the door as you two continue to caress each other

trail your fingers down his abdomen, trace his subtle v-line, tease the skin at the hem of his trousers before you pop open the button and slide them off

his eyes never leave your hands, you notice his breath hitching every time your nails stretch gentle against his skin…

dance your finger-tips around his very obvious ‘problem’ and listen to him whine disappointed as you pull away, opting to wrap your arms around the back of his neck

the bath finally fills and you both tumble into it, the warm water and soap soaking into your under garments

rub soap along his waist and abdomen and he’ll repress a small moan, causing you to comment on how sensitive his skin is

“In the water my senses are heightened, including how you feel against my skin…”

maybe it’s a lumerian thing? or maybe it’s a rafayel thing?

either way it’s enticing how easily he reacts to your ministrations so you’re not complaining

cup his face in your hands and caress his cheek with your thumb, rubbing against his smooth, milky skin and watch a small sigh tremble out of his lips

thumb at his bottom lip, and watch his eyes flutter slightly as he waits for more

slide your hands from his face to his chin and hold it, glide your hand down his neck then chest and watch his breathing visibly quicken with the rise and fall of his chest

“Your way of triggering my senses has only touched the surface…”

this comment makes you want to tease him more, i mean watching him shiver and twitch under your fingertips?

who doesn’t want to see rafayel like that??

so, as any sane person would do, you hook your fingers under his silver necklace and tug him towards you - both your half naked bodies sliding together as he groans at the contact

you lean into his collarbone and suck a hickey into his skin, tongue gliding over the bruise as he audibly gasps at the realisation

his eyes visibly glaze over with lust as you mark him up - his restraint snapping as he pushes himself on top of you

his arms cage you beneath him, and his gaze looks starved, as if just being with you you wasn’t enough he needed you to be his, and his alone

rafayel’s sudden surge of dominance jolts you as he holds your chin to face him

despite his dominance you see his fluster and arousal plastered across his face as he whispers out -

“Your body is warm, I like that.”

- before he finally leans in to kiss you

his lips are soft, a stark contrast to the intensity of which he kisses you

his hands are trailing all over your body, savouring the feel of your plush skin against his palms

you can feel him bite your bottom lip - eliciting a gasp from you as he slides his tongue between your lips

rafayel is lost in you, the taste of you, the feeling of you against him, the sounds you let out, the fragrant smell of the bath soap and the sight of you oh rafayel is absolutely gone

his grip on your waist tightens as he fully immerses himself in you, only thinking of you, only knowing you and what you taste like in that moment.

when you two finally break apart, there’s a small saliva bridge between your spit-soaked lips - and you can see just how flushed rafayel is

red lips, hickey-ed up, and you’re not daft enough not to notice something prodding prominently against your thigh…

“[YN], how about we test my senses a bit more…”

AN; again i wrote half of this last night and half of this when i woke up but when i was writing i had this sharp pang of shame like… this poor poor man doesn’t even know half of the shit i’d like to see him doing and also the fact that my parents migrated to an english-speaking country only for their daughter to use that power to write about a fictional character ANYWAYS I HEART RAFAYEL 🗣️

[illusioninfnty]

"I'll Gut You Like A Fish!"

જ⁀➴ Ghostface : Day 19

feat. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto ᯓ★ What's wrong with your boyfriends killing a random sleazebag here and there? You just like to indulge in the celebration that comes after.

warnings! : NSFW 18+, college au, exhibitionism, breast play, fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, male masturbation, oral sex (m and f receiving), creampie, cum eating, blood play, knife play, murder (not of reader), fucking over a dead body, everyone getting bricked up over murder

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

The familiar hands of your boyfriend find themselves around your waist, swaying to the beat of whatever techno song plays as drunk college students stumble along to the bass vibrating across the walls.

“Got a present for you upstairs.”

Gojo’s lips ghost the shell of your ear, nipping at it teasingly as you throw your head back into the crook of his neck. 

“Oh?” He presses his front up against your backside. You can feel the way his cock strains in his pants as he subtly grinds up against you.

Gojo trails kisses down your neck and you shiver. “Come on, babe. Suguru’s getting a little impatient. You know how he is.” His hands move down to grab at your ass, motioning you along in the frat house, up the stairs to one of the rooms at the end of the hall.

The metallic, iron-like smell of blood fills the air as you open the door, making you halt in place. In front of you stands your other boyfriend Geto, dressed in an all-too-familiar black robe and holding a bloody knife.

His head lifts up as he hears you two come in. He sets the knife onto a desk and stalks across the room, grabbing you from Gojo’s hold and bringing you in for a passionate kiss. You moan into Geto’s lips, digging your fingers into his long black tresses. 

“What’s this from?” you ask hesitantly when you pull apart from him.

Before either one of your boyfriends can answer you, a broken moan sounds from the other side of the room, as though below the bed.

Geto takes your hand, guiding you to the source of the noise.

You gasp and take a step back, falling into his chest as you’re greeted with the sight of a bloodied man, writhing across the floor. Through his light colored shirt you can see multiple stab wounds, courtesy of Geto. The man coughs, and blood spurts out of his mouth, covering his neck and chest.

Gojo then pipes up, throwing an arm around Geto’s shoulder and jerking his head to the man. “Recognize him?”

You can’t seem to place who this is at first. But then when you look past all of the blood, you’re able to place why he seems so familiar. Just an hour or two ago, when you first arrived with Gojo and Geto at this party, this guy was in the kitchen with all the alcohol. When you went to get some for yourself, he groped your ass, something you complained about to your boyfriends later on.

The guy coughs again, and it sounds like a gargle. He clutches his side, a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding coming out of multiple wounds.

“Help me,” he moans, blood dribbling from the sides of his lips.

It’s a gross sight, really, and you sneer at the sight of him. No way in hell were you helping someone like him. Especially if it would be your boyfriends that you would hypothetically be up against.

You narrow your eyes, turning and walking away from him. “Maybe you should keep your hands off of women and you wouldn’t end up like this, asshole.”

“Ooh,” Gojo hisses from behind you. “Sorry, bud. Better luck next time.”

“You,” —the guy spits out more blood— “bitch.”

“Now, now, enough of that.” Geto grabs him by the curls on his head, dragging him forward so that he’s positioned in the center of the room, closer to where you stand near the bottom of the bed.

Gojo strides on over nonchalantly, standing right behind you. He starts to caress your sides, his hands moving sensually up and down your body. If it was possible, Gojo seems even harder now. His cock throbs in his pants as it presses against your backside. “Watch,” he whispers to you.

Geto stands in front of you, still holding the man up by his hair. He’s on his knees, and the blood from his mouth and his wounds are slowly starting to stain his clothes and his body a pinkish color.

The man winces as Geto’s grip on him tightens. “You’re here because we need to teach you a lesson.”

You gasp as Gojo’s hands move under your shirt, pulling it and your bra up in one fell swoop. He starts to pinch and pull at your nipples, which stand hard with your aroused state.

Geto hums in satisfaction at the sight, his eyes hooded with pleasure.

“Did you really think we would let you touch her like this?” Gojo chimes in. He relishes in how your body wriggles against him, craving his touch. One of his hands moves lower, and lower, and lower, and then disappears into your pants.

You moan as Gojo starts to play with your pussy, fingering at your slit. “Can’t believe how wet you are,” he croons in your ear, “getting worked up over something like this.” He tuts at you, playing with your folds as you let your body fall into him.

“Like—” you’re interrupted by your own involuntary moan as Gojo sticks two fingers inside of you with no warning. “Like you’re one to talk.”

His cock jumps as he laughs. He curls his fingers, and then begins to pump them in and out of your pussy.

“You see that?” Geto says. He’s talking to the bloody guy. “Only we get to touch her like that.” He leans down, staring at him eye to eye. “This is why you’re here. Because you touched something that’s ours. And for that” —he reaches behind him, brandishing the bloody knife— “you’ll have to pay.”

Seeing your typically calm and collected boyfriend take control like that was doing things to you. You feel your body heat up, and your core clenches around Gojo’s fingers, your imagination running wild with the change in your boyfriend’s behavior, thinking about all the things he could do to you.

Your moans are uncontrollable now as you whine and buck against Gojo, craving more.

“Shit, Suguru. Look at him, he’s hard!” Your boyfriend jeers at the man on the ground, but you don’t care enough to take your attention off the pleasure. “Aw man, what a fucking loser. Gotta get hard over our girl ‘cause he can’t find one on his own.”

Geto lets out a sound of disgust, sending a kick to the guy’s kidney. “Filthy fucking monkey.”

You can feel your peak approaching, and as you tighten around Gojo’s fingers he’s able to sense it, too. “Fuck, Suguru, I think she’s about to cum.”

“Not yet.” Suguru reaches out behind him, grabbing one last thing—a Ghostface mask. He fastens it onto his head before turning back to his soon-to-be victim.

“Fuck with our girl, pay the price.”

With that, Geto holds the man’s head up and slowly digs his knife across his throat. Blood pours out in waves, splashing against his body and the floor beneath him. Geto drops him without a care, and the man’s body falls face-first onto the floor as his blood surrounds him in a giant pool.

You gasp, and the shock of the scene in front of you paired with Gojo’s fingers wildly fucking into you has you cumming before you can even notice. Your eyes squeeze shut and your legs shake as your orgasm hits, your body going weak as Gojo holds you up.

When you open your eyes, Geto stands in front of you, still donning his bloody mask and knife.

You pant heavily, staring up at your boyfriend who slowly tilts his head while staring down at you.

“So you’re really Ghostface?” you ask, feeling dumb as soon as the question is out. You just watched him kill a man right in front of you. He rustles around his cloak, pulling out a small device. He clicks the button on the side of the device, bringing it up to his mask. “Not just me.” The device is a voice changer, you realize, and the voice that comes out is different from his own—much more gravelly, much more like that of a killer. You know exactly what he’s implying. You crane your neck to look at the man nuzzling into your hair.

“You too, Satoru?”

He places a kiss on the side of your head. “You know it, baby.”

A moment of silence passes before you speak up again.

“Is that why we also have the best sex coincidentally after the news hits of the killings around town?” 

Your question is answered not by words, but by the cheeky grin on Gojo’s face.

“Clearly you enjoy it just as much as we do.” Geto continues, he runs his hands over your breasts, tracing the curves of your body until he reaches your wet folds, fingering at them. You gasp, still sensitive from your release.

“You’re not the only one who got worked up all over it.” He moves his robes around, and you see that Geto is sporting a boner.

“Fuck, that’s hot, babe,” Gojo whines from behind you. You silently agree.

Geto smirks. “It’ll be hotter once it’s inside of her.” His hands grip around your hips, pulling your pelvis closer to his. He deftly strips his lower half, his cock springing free from its confines in front of you. He goes to lift his mask up, but you stop him with a hand on his wrist.

“K-keep it on, please.” You can feel your face heat up, from embarrassment or arousal though, you aren’t entirely sure.

You can just imagine the smirk that Geto has on his face beneath it. “Dirty girl.” He agrees to the request, and the mask stays secured to his face.

Gojo breathes heavily from behind you, no doubt entranced by Geto just like you are.

“So greedy,” Geto hums. He gives his cock a few tugs and then lines it up with your pussy. You both hiss at the stretch of him inside of you, your insides pulsating with the new sensation.

“Oh, God,” you moan, clutching onto Geto’s shoulders like your life depended on it.

“There’s no God here,” he whispers into your ear, his hips pumping into you at a rapid pace, “only us.”

Gojo drops to his knees, his eyes focused on where you and Geto are connected. “Fuck,” he murmurs, “look at you too. He leans up, his tongue licking a long strip from Geto’s balls all the way to you opening. He slurps at your wetness as it sloshes out of you with Geto’s thrusts.

“Oh, yes, more!” you cry out. Gojo’s tongue feels like perfection as he expertly moves it around to hit your most sensitive spots. You can tell that Geto is also affected by the way his hips stutter, his rhythmic thrusts becoming more jerky.

“Such a whore for us.” Geto’s hands come up to grip your face, and you finally notice how the two of you are now covered in the blood of the man he just killed. The realization causes you to gasp and your walls flutter around Geto.

“Oh?” He looks at the way your pupils dilated on seeing the blood across both you and himself. “You like being covered in blood? So naughty,” he teases.

From his position on the ground, Gojo is able to reach the man’s corpse, and he sticks his hand in the puddle of blood that has yet to dry. He brings his blood-covered hands back up to your body, rubbing them all over your stomach and chest.

You moan as Gojo covers your body in blood, smearing it all over you. Your boyfriend reveals a toothy grin. “I like this look on her.”

Geto hums in agreement, dragging a hand down your body. “Get back over here,” he says to Gojo. He obeys, alternating between putting his mouth on your pussy and Geto’s cock.

“’M gonna cum again,” you stutter out, nails digging into the black robe.

Geto laughs. “Are you?” Suddenly, he pulls out his bloody knife, positioning it up to your neck. Your pussy grips him even tighter, your arousal so close to reaching its peak. “Such a bad girl. Squirming all over my dick with a knife to your throat.”

Gojo chimes in with a laugh. “Getting fucked by a killer’s cock while his victim is right next to you. Fuck, she’s clenching so hard around you, Suguru.”

You don’t even have time to protest or talk back before you cum, releasing your juices all over Geto’s cock, remnants falling onto Gojo’s face.

Geto’s release isn’t far behind your own.

“Fucking take it,” he groans, and his dick pulsates as he finally cums inside of you. His warm cum feels so good in your pussy, and you whimper when he finally pulls out of you. 

Gojo’s tongue quickly replaces the feeling, however, and he greedily licks up both your arousal and Geto’s cum. You dig your fingers through his white locks as he eats you out like a man starved. Geto stands back, surveying the scene in front of him with pleasure.

When Gojo pulls away from your pussy, you practically collapse on top of him. He brings you down into his lap, bringing his lips up to your ear. His next words send a shock of pleasure down your spine and arousal churning in your core.

“Next time, you can watch me get a kill.”

[tender-rosiey]

loud and clear — gojo satoru x gn!reader

a/n: @xhamper I hope this is up to your liking! I couldn’t find the request in the inbox 🥲

as a high school student in jujutsu tech, you have learned to take any chance to sleep.

however, said sleep of tonight is, unfortunately, disturbed by something.

trying to ignore the noise, you turn groggily in your sleep. the ruckus doesn’t pipe down; you toss and turn. finally, done with everything, you slowly open your eyes, “what the…”

you concentrate and you hear a song playing. albeit a bit muffled, it’s still pretty loud.

perhaps your neighbors are having a party again? but they just had one yesterday; in addition, the sound is pretty close to you unlike before.

when you finally get up, you head towards the window and you’re met with something you would’ve never expected.

you see nanami, geto and haibara dancing: nanami is frowning and his dancing is as stiff as the tree beside him, geto is smiling but he also just looks defeated and helpless, and haibara is having fun and making the most out of it.

it’s a sight to behold and you want to scurry and get a camera, but the rest of the scene catches your attention.

you also see dj shoko, who looks like she is about to commit a murder, frowning and holding the speakers behind the boys as they do their ‘part’.

lastly, there is gojo, your crush, holding a mic and obnoxiously singing golden hour, “it’s yoUR GOLDEN HOOOOOOUR!”

he is really into it, knees on the ground, clutching his chest, and everything, “YOU SLOW DOWN TIMEEEEEEEEEE—!”

so it’s no surprise when your very kind neighbor throws a bag of cashews at him.

“GET YOUR TEENAGE ROMANCE OUT OF HERE! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!”

and it is also no surprise when he yells back, but you don’t expect his response, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH CONFESSING MY LOVE, YOU CRANKY OLD LADY?!”

geto tries to hold him back, “satoru, let’s not create a bigger scene than this, yaga will have our heads—“

satoru shakes him off and looks at you, determined and with a very annoying smirk on his face. he walks to his bag and gets out a megaphone.

he holds it up and once again surprises you, “I!LOVE!YOU!Y/N!”

“I LOVE HOW MESSY YOUR HAIR CAN BE IN THE MORNING!

I LOVE HOW CRANKY YOU GET WHEN YOU DON’T GET YOUR SNACKS!

I LOVE THE WAY YOU SMILE AND ROLL YOUR EYES AT MY JOKES!

I LOVE WATCHING YOU FIGHT CAUSE YOU LOOK SO SEXY!

AND YOU LOOK SO HOT WHEN YOU’RE ANGRY!

DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, SWEETS?!”

he is panting, by the time he finishes his rant. you know he is waiting for a response, but in your shocked state you cant get anything out except, “what?”

shoko snaps, “OH HELL NO! WE’RE NOT REPEATING THIS AGAIN! Y/N GET YOUR ASS DOWN!”

you nod hurriedly and run down the stairs. the moment you open the door, shoko pulls your arm and pushes you on satoru, who holds you up easily and whispers a small ‘hey’ with a smile.

geto pats shoko’s back and takes over, “so y/n, satoru likes you as you may have guessed by now.”

satoru, glaring at him, corrects him, “love! not like, thank you very much!”

you intertwine your fingers and it flusters him, but you don’t notice—geto does, however, and satoru is one second away from mixing colors.

nanami walks up to you guys, “and y/n obviously likes you back.”

finally haibara runs, smiling and excited, “now kiss!”

you laugh, “as if we would do that in front of you guys—“

the words die in your throat as satoru connects your lips gently. his hand is settled on your cheek and his other is pulling you closer by the waist.

shoko’s gagging, nanami’s groaning, haibrara’s clapping, and geto’s nodding proudly.

with all of that, you can only focus on the guy in front of you who pulls away with a cheeky smile, “that was nice, no?”

you mutter weakly, “s-shut up.”

he laughs and leans into your ear, “do you want to dance to the song?”

another bag of cashews is thrown on your—now—boyfriend’s head, “ YOU CAN DANCE TO THE SONG IN YOUR MOM’S—“

a kind neighbor indeed.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will send the kind neighbor after yo ass

[siddyyyyyyyy]

You're Only Sixteen —

First Christmas

wc: 1.9 K summary: The base of TF141 celebrates christmas warnings: none, no y/n used, child sodlier mentioned, fluff, call sign "Bane" used a/n: since the majority voted for COD, I tried to make something special and fitting for the current season!! I know it's only november, but it's also too late for helloween. Enjoy! (MASTERLIST — You're Only Sixteen series)

This is strange. You never saw someone being so serious about christmas before and if you didn‘t know better, you would‘ve thought they all actually believe in Santa. Shaking your head to yourself, you focus back on the book you borrowed from Price once.

Meanwhile, several other soldiers are trying to read the instructions right on how to set up some electrical candles across a counter. The common room used to be such a peaceful space, you were able to be in your own bubble and focus on the current task you wanted to be focused on, but not today. At first, it started with the new decoration in the mess hall and the small gingerbreads you got for dessert.

It was sweet. The things that happened after weren‘t. While you were practicing your aim and skills in the shooting range, you kept getting distracted by the fairy lights across the wall that were blinking rhythmically. You sometimes found yourself plainly staring at them, in some sort of trance before you managed to snap back.

Eventually, the practice didn‘t do much good to you, which is why you are trying to pass time in the common room at the moment. Which also doesn‘t go well because of these stupid bastards talking too loudly and being so unreasonably stupid that makes you want to gauge their eyes out, pierce a thick pipe through their skull and—

»Your eye‘s twitching.«

Finally, a familiar, smooth voice brings you out of your unblinking stare.

»Just observing.« You mutter back to the older man beside you on the couch, not having noticed when he even came by. Kyle hums lightly in acknowledgement, the corner‘s of his lips tugging upwards.

»Observing or planning a murder?«

Your unamused stare meets his own finally, slowly turning your head at him. A short moment of silence follows, indicating the grumpy mood of yours very clearly.

»I think we both know the answer.«

Again, he nods and looks back to the three unfamiliar idiots at the free counter, who are still trying to figure out on how to get the light working. Gaz doesn‘t seem to mind the show in front of him, actually seeming as if he finds joy in seeing them work like three children together.

»Who are these anyway? Never saw them before.« You speak up with a hint of annoyance, earning a small huff of amusement from Kyle.

»Some rookies, Soap told them to take care of the decorations so he doesn‘t have to.«

That explains it. But it doesn‘t make your day any better. After a short conversation with Kyle, you decide to take a proper rest and try to nap in your bunker. That‘s where it‘s actually silent, except for some noises from the outside caused by people working.

»Bane! C‘mon, wake up— ye gotta see this!«

Groggily sitting up, you don‘t know what‘s going on. Did something happen or is he just trying to annoy you too?

»What—«

»Quick, soldier!«

He interrupts with a little too much enthusiasm for five in the morning. Finally, you get up with a heavy sigh and follow him outside, messily putting your jacket over yourself at the same time. You shiver once you step outside and feel more awake from the freezing wind hitting your face, trying to put the jacket tighter over yourself.

Getting outside, a big pinetree, wrapped up in shiny fairy lights, greets you; mostly covered in snow already. Your breath fogs up in the air as you stare up the giant tree, trying to comprehend how they got it next to the building and how they managed to decorate all of it in a single evening.

Soap grins beside you and also stares up at the tree, wearing a thick jacket, mittens and an overly fluffy hat.

»What do ye think?«

His shoulder nudges you lightly, but you can‘t really focus on him, freezing your hands off.

»Why do we need this? Can I go back to sleep?«

You ignore his question, just standing beside him in your trembling form, being sure you won‘t stay so calm if he won‘t take you seriously. Unsurprisingly, he gives a hearty chuckle and pats your back, ready to tease you and talk your ears off about the cold weather in scotland. But once he sees your grumpy demeanor, he quickly closes his mouth again and lets you be.

He knows better than to upset a teenager, having got to know you more from the six months you lived together on base.

Eventually, you go back to sleep, just getting a quick nap before you start your usual routine.

…

You hear distinct, loud voices ouside, assuming it‘s from some of your teammates who are excited over something. Thinking nothing of it, you try to not pay them any more attention ad back to reading your book. You started learning how to read after the mission in Urzikstan, Riyazabbi, taking it slow with figuring it all out. Price said you are making good progress since you only started to read six months ago. Ghost makes small jabs at you everytime you mess up reading a big word, but then corrects you and teaches you the right pronounciation.

The voices are getting louder and the words on the pages don‘t make any sense anymore. Sighing out, you get up to try and see what it‘s all about.

When you first moved in, you would‘ve never done that before. But now, you grew used to your teammates and feel more comfortable around them.

»… flight wasn‘t that bad, but I missed getting real food. And— «

Alejandro pauses, tilting his head once he notices you from around the corner. The other four men follow his gaze, landing on you suddenly.

The silence and attention on you makes you nervous for a moment, realising you probably stepped into a private conversation. Before you could apologise and walk off, Soap is the first one to speak up.

»Oh, look who we have here! Meet Alejandro and Rodolfo, they‘re here for a small visit.«

You didn‘t know you‘d be celebrating that but there is no going back now. With a light nod, you accept it and already step away to leave them alone.

Except, you don‘t. Rhey somehow manage to make you stay with them and mostly stand beside awkwardly, listening in to their conversation. Turns out, Alejandro is a colonel in another TaskForce and, Rodolfo beside him being his right hand. They seem decent.

You notice Rudy whispering something to Alejandro with a frown, already assuming they need to go and you aren‘t forced to stand with them anymore.

Alejandro seems to realise something, his eyes falling onto you briefly.

»Right, uh… we only got one present for you four, we kind of— you know, forgot you existed.«

Rudy smacks the back of his teammates head, shooting you an apologetic look.

»We‘re sorry. I hope you‘ll also like the present we got for your team.« He corrects, surprising the rest of the TaskForce as well.

With curious looks, the rest of your teammates watch them pull out a bigger bottle of expensive looking whiskey... Or whatever that dark liquid is. You can barely read the tag of the bottle, it being written in an even more expensive looking font.

Soap is the first to light up at the bottle, a smirk forming on Gaz‘s face. A light chuckle leaves Ghost as he watches the scene unfold, seemingly knowing what‘s about to happen. Price gives an impressed nod, carefully taking the bottle from them. The conversations fill in again, mostly hearing how happy and impressed sounds from the scott, claiming the choice of the drink is making his heart flutter or whatever. It‘s Whiskey, aparently.

Either way, you won‘t give that a try, having enough basic knowledge to know that this is strong alcohol. Not that they would try to give you some of it anyway.

The two men leave after a longer while, being glad you don‘t have to spend any more time just listening and hoping they don‘t notice your slight boredom.

…

You wake up more tired than usual. The winter isn‘t doing you any good, somehow feeling more tired than usual, not getting enough sun from the clouds and constant snow or storm outside. It‘s getting frustrating, but at least you can secretly make fun of some soldiers who are trying to build absurd snowmans outside in the park. Last night, they managed to build a life sized figure of a middle finger.

Reaching out for your fuzzy shoes on the floor, you don‘t miss the unfamiliar object on your night stand. Looking over it, you can see it‘s a case, wrapped in red and green wrapping paper. Even more confused, you reach out to it and hesitate before finally ripping it open and opening it.

There lays a shiny knife, looking professionaly made. The blade is dangerously sharp, the grip being steady and lays safe in your hand. Testing it out, you grow a big liking on it.

Finally, christmas has something more to it than annoying christians.

Of course, meeting Price and Ghost in the mess hall, you notice a capri sun standing at your usual spot already. Lightly overwhelmed, you give them a tight-lipped smile, hoping they won‘t make fun of you for being awkward about the two gifts.

After that, nothing big happens. But Price seems to be in a good mood and decided to play in the snow around the evening. Turns out that riding down a hill full of snow with a sled is actually pretty fun. More entertaining than it looks like. Pretty sure some of your teammates ate some snow while rolling down the hill, but it was worth it.

After spending some hours giggling and making fun of each other, you finally get back and Ghost is immediately busying himelf with making tea for everyone else. Making yourself comfortable in the common room, you get a seperate blanket on one of the couches and curl yourself up. The simple black tea, that somehow tastes more delicious when it‘s made from Ghost, makes you warm up even further and you start to get sleepy after a while.

The room mostly fills with comfortable silence, being broken from occasional smaller conversations. Finally, your tiredness takes over and you fall asleep. Right on the shoulder of the ‚grumpy‘ man beside you, who claims to hate everything around him.

Ghost stays as still as possible, growing even more silent than before and makes sure not to breath too loudly so he won‘t wake you. Of course, Gaz can‘t help but make small jabs at him at first, then sneaking a picture of the two of you.

You stay peacefully asleep, warm and content beside him like never before on a stormy winter night.

a/n: hope you enjoyed this, and yes; the ending is a reference to the first part of 'You're Only Sixteen'. ^0^

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

Catch Basin | J.M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Crawling through the sewer to find a murder weapon should be pretty straightforward right? Definitely not life threatening.

A/N: This is kinda short but I hope you enjoy! I couldn’t find a good gif of this scene which I’m sad about

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: near drowning, dead animal?, very gross sewer

Word Count: 1.1k

-

“If it's not in the trash, then it's gotta be somewhere in the storm drain,” Pope says glumly.

“Of course it is.” You shake your head, wiping some sweat off your brow. “Half an hour cleaning up trash with you two hooligans for nothing.”

JJ feigns an offended expression next to you, reaching around the drain to his backpack. “Hey, at least this hooligan thought to bring the crow bar.”

“So how are we doing this?” you ask, “Like rock paper scissors? Or alphabetically?”

“Nah.” “No.” The two boys grunt as they pull the grate loose.

“Or, like, the oldest goes?” JJ and Pope just turn to stare at you. “Really? Neither of you are gonna take the fall? You're really gonna make me do this.”

Pope just shrugs while JJ nods in agreement with your statement, gesturing toward the open pipe.

“Oh, I get it.” You nod to yourself. “You guys are scared. It’s kinda cute.”

“I’m not scared, Y/N,” JJ protests indignantly, but neither boy makes a move toward the sewer.

You give them both an incredulous look. “You should’ve just led with that. You don’t have to be scared. I'll do it.”

“Okay, just, you know, be careful,” JJ adds as you're already halfway in the sewer.

“I’ll be so careful,” you respond sarcastically.

“Yeah, just yell if you need anything.” Pope chimes in.

“Great, yeah, I’ll do that. You’re both so helpful.” Your voice echoes as you yell back to the idiots you call friends.

You should've known you’d be the one stuck crawling through the sewer. If you were smart you would’ve sent JJ and Pope to complete this task on their own, but then who knows what problems they would’ve gotten themselves into without you.

“Shit.” You flinch as your hand hits something slippery on your crawl through the pipe. “Ew, ew, ew, ew.”

“Y/N, do you see the gun?” JJ’s voice echoes through the sewer.

“Nothing yet.”

“It’s probably at the bottom of the catch basin,” Pope informs you.

You're panting hard by the time you reach the end of the tunnel. You pull yourself into the foot of water at the bottom of the basin, feeling around for the gun and trying hard not to think about the things you could be touching.

“Oh my god, this is disgusting.”

It takes a few minutes, but finally you feel something that seems like it could be the same size as the gun.

You yell back in the direction of Pope and JJ. “Guys, I think I found something.”

As you lean down to reach for the object, something foul smelling and distinctly hairy floats toward your face.

“Oh, oh my god!” You push the creature away, scrambling. “You guys, there’s something dead in here!”

Pope calls back, “What, like a person?”

Something else touches you back making you scream.

“Y/N, don't touch it! That's how you get worms!” JJ yells, making you scream and yell even more.

“You guys owe me for life!”

“Just find the gun. Find the gun and get out.” Pope cuts over the noise, trying to get you back on track. He smacks JJ’s arm. “Dude, stop freaking her out.”

“Okay, okay.” you mutter to yourself, taking a deep breath. You turn back toward the water, continuing your search, but a noise makes you stop in your tracks.

“Oh, shit. Guys, the water! The water’s rising!” You turn frantically looking for a way out.

“Y/N! Get out of there now!” JJ’s panicked voice carries through the tunnel.

The water rises quickly, blocking off the way you came, making it impossible to crawl back out of the sewer.

“I don’t have time! Guys!” You hear them call back, yelling your name, but it all sounds muffled over the rushing of the water.

Turning to your only other option, you start climbing the ladder to the manhole. Panic courses through your body, fueling you to move faster and faster. The water chases you, rising just as fast as you can climb.

Your hands reach the top, straining against the hard metal of the cover, but it doesn't move. “Please! JJ! Guys!” You scream for your friends, pushing as hard as you can to free yourself. “Help, I’m over here!”

“Y/N!” You hear JJ’s voice moving closer. “Y/N, we’re coming!”

You stick your hands through the grate, gesturing frantically with your fingers, trying to show your friends where you are. “Please!” Your voice comes out in a broken sob. “The water’s coming up!”

“We’re here!” The boys grunt as they pull against the stubborn metal. You push up, providing any bit of help you can, but the water is overtaking you.

“JJ, JJ please,” You plead as the water rises to your chin.

“We’ll get you out of there. I promise!” JJ pulls out his knife, cutting around the edge of the cover as Pope pulls.

You slam your hands against the grate once more, panic coursing through your veins. “JJ-” The water covers your face. You feel his fingers on yours and all you can do is pray that he gets you out of here.

It feels like an eternity that you stay stuck in that position, your lungs burning, but finally, the cover pulls away with a clang. You pull yourself out of the hole, retching and coughing. The boys move back giving you a minute to recover. You pull yourself onto your knees, sucking in the clean air as fast as you can.

“Y/N?” JJ’s soft voice comes from beside you. He tentatively places a gentle hand between your shoulder blades. “You okay?”

You give him a weak thumbs up. “Never better,” you rasp out, making both boys chuckle.

Taking a steadying breath, you sit back on your heels and reach toward the small of your back. “This wasn’t what we were looking for, right?” You pull a gun out from your waistband. Handing it towards JJ with a small smirk.

“Holy shit,” Pope breathes.

“Oh my god.” JJ laughs, taking the gun from your hand wrapping it in a bandanna. He reaches his other hand out to you, helping you to your feet. “You did it, Y/N. You did it!” He scoops you up in a tight hug, nearly knocking you off your feet. “That’s my girl.”

“Okay, a little tight. I almost just drowned, remember?”

“Right, sorry!” He pulls back quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, just thought we lost you there for a second. You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You smile softly at him before pulling both boys into another quick hug. “Now let’s get this bad boy to Shoupe, so I can go shower.”

“Deal,” Pope agrees, “Good job.”

“Yeah, you definitely need a shower. You smell like shit.” JJ jokes, earning himself a hard shove from you. Pope nods solemnly beside him.

“Okay, assholes. Next time, you guys get to crawl through the sewer.”

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 16)

They had done a decent job hiding this all from Khan until this point. The man had been busy fixing a malfunctioning main door and she had gotten quite good at hiding things from him. However that had to end when she was going to be forced to spend at least a couple of days staying in N's apartment, looking after his new daughter.

Khan decidedly did not need to know that her name was also on those adoption papers, and the longer she could keep that hidden the better, as much as N was someone she could let her guard down around, the same couldn't be said about the rest of the bunker, there were already rampant rumors flying around the bunker about her and N, not helped by them walking together with a baby to his apartment she was sure. She didn't need to give them any more fuel.

So now she was near the front of the bunker, looking for her dad to break the news that yes, N did end up adopting the baby they'd literally just told him he wasn't like… a few days ago.

She was sure that conversation was going to go well.

“Dad?” She called out, her voice echoing out in the much larger hall, absent of other people. At this hour, most sane people would be asleep, but not her, and it would likely be a little bit before her old man would want to stop working, that was one of the few things they shared; when a task needed to be done, neither of them stopped until their bodies demanded it.

“Here dronelette!” His voice came from above, and so her head turned towards it, only to find Khan awkwardly wrapped around a pipe, tightening a gasket on Door 2, honestly it almost looked like one of the weird ass positions she would take while writing something that caught her attention.

“How did you even get up there?” She asked, looking around for any evidence of a ladder or a stool and found neither.

“I scaled the pipes! What? Didn't think your old man could climb?” He chuckled lightly without loosing focus, tongue sticking out of his mouth as his eyelights scrunched up

“Uh no, actually.” Was all she said, watching as he worked for another minute before he wiped the nonexistent sweat of his brow and looked down.

Then with a semi-impressive level of balance and grace, jumped down from the rather high ceiling, using the other pipes as monkey bars before landing safely at her side.

Only to wince as his joints made a rather concerning noise.

“Agh, so it's been awhile…” He chuckled again, although this time a little sadly before turning to his daughter with a smile that seemed genuine.

“What did you need?” He asked, and Uzi shook off the strange feeling of awe watching her dad do something that was actually sort of risky like it was normal for him.

Only for it to be replaced by the nervousness of the reason she'd actually sought him out. Great…

“Uh yeah. I was just letting you know I need to stay over at N's tonight…”

Khan looked confused, but a smile still graced his face.

“Is that all? You normally wouldn't come find me for something small like that.”

“And… for possibly the next few days?” She finished, at which then Khan’s face fell, becoming more confused and a little concerned.

“Why's that? N's not sick is he? Can murder drones even get sick…?”

“No! He's fine, well mostly. It's just he needs my help with… uh something.” She was trying to avoid the inevitable. She knew playing the pronoun game with her dad was a habit, but one she'd only truly win if she had a door to slam in his face.

“Which is?” She winced, sweat appearing on her visor as she grinned warily, shifting her fingers together nervously.

“N ended up… adopting Tera. And he needs my help in taking care of her until he gets everything ready for her.”

Khan’s jaw was on the floor, put of all thing he'd expected out of his daughters mouth that was… not at the top of the list; along with “Bite me” or “Mind your freaking business.”

“He told me he wasn't going to.”

“He wasn't, but… Tera has an overheating issue and no one else seemed to want to deal with it.” She tried to explain without concerning him further.

Khan didn't say anything, so she felt the urge to continue impulsively.

“We talked about it, and we agreed that Mrs Rayn is a little too old to raise a baby. And We have a lot of experience with overheating… with him getting his new apartment, we thought…” She stopped suddenly. Realizing she had gone from talking about N to talking about them. As a unit.

“We?”

“I-uh yeah, he talked to me about it first and I talked him through it all to make sure he was serious about it. I-I'm not on the papers or anything!”

She probably could have omitted that last part, but the way Khan was looking at her was making the usually rather quiet part of her brain requiring his approval speak up slightly louder.

She wasn't sure Khan entirely believed her, squinting at her with extreme suspicion, she glanced to the side, eyeing the way she came as if she regreted the entire trek up here.

“If you're just doing it to help them settle in. Wouldn't that only take a few hours? Or a day?” He began again slowly, still processing the sudden information.

“Normally, and that was the plan. But uh, he lacks the hardware to take care of her properly.”

“Rayn should have given him the cable and the bottles, what do you-”

“He doesn't have a side panel.” She interrupted him blunty, pausing whatever he was about to say next

Khan was quiet.

“What?”

“No, you didnt mishear me. He doesn't have a side panel.”

“Everyone has one.”

“He doesn't.”

Khan blinked before he sighed heavily, thinking deeply on everything that was just discussed. He felt one of his hands start shaking, but he gripped it to make it stop.

“I had about the same reaction, but it makes sense, why would a disassembly drone ever need that kind of hardware?”

He nodded at that, before a different thought entered his head entirely.

“How do they raise their kids then?”

At that Uzi paused, she knew N's background, how he used to be a worker drone and had never been a pillbaby. So that thought had simply never entered her mind, but it did get her thinking…

Could N even pass down his code at all? Did it work the same way as with worker drones?

And if it did, what would his kids even look like? White eyelights? Yellow? Would they carry the same traits as a disassembly drone or would they just remain a worker drone?

“I don't think they do…” She answered, she didn't want to expose too much of N's past, that wasn't her story to tell, but her dad had been being… more tolerable as of late. “N was a worker drone before he became… what he is now. So I think all that hardware was removed.”

“He was? What did he used to do?” He asked, head tilted to the side.

“He…” She paused for a moment, deciding if N would mind if she said anything, he was pretty sensitive about his time at the manor; she decided giving him the very basics was enough. “He was a butler, he had white eyelights.”

“White. Huh.”

At that the conversation stagnated, and Uzi sighed, beginning to walk away.

“Now that you know, can I uh… go?” She gestured in the direction she was currently going, clearly not waiting for his answer as Khan seemed to be frozen, processing all of this information.

But he nodded, dumbly. And she took that as her que to book it, not stopping until she was certain that even if her dad wanted to catch up, she'd be long gone. Perfect for making an undetected journey back.

She didn't take the normal way back to N's apartment either, trying to avoid more stares from more judgemental faces, it was somehow worse now than it ever was, at least before they'd done it quietly, too scared to be noticed by her and be met with violence, but they seemed to sniff out her now softened edges, because now some drones didn't bother to hide it.

“Looks like the freak found a boy toy.”

“Of course she'd be freinds with a murder drone, she's all kinds of gross.”

“You think she let's him bite her? She's probably into it…”

One of those came from Lizzy, which was honestly so typical she barely even registered it. (Although she hadn't said anything in awhile, V probably had something to do with that.) But the other two, the one about N being a boy toy and her letting him bite her, were new, and came from a brand new mouth.

She wasn't sure if this particular girl had a thing for N, because both of those were rather strange places for someone's mind to default to, but whatever the case she'd made comments like that rather often, her name was… Chloe? That sounded right.

She was quiet before, Uzi thought, because she was a brand new face and voice for her, orange eyelights and rich black hair that went down to her shoulders. But that was literally the only thing Uzi could remember about her.

And the only reason she hadn't bitten back when she'd heard it was because N had been next to her, oblivious to it all, walking back to her place after the craziness that was prom. She'd also been tired, injured, and freaked out, but those things didn't stop her nearly as much as N's presence.

N didn't deserve that ridicule, not in the least. He was the sweetest guy on the entirety of Copper-9. And yet those comments were derogatory to him too, essentially calling him easy, for Uzi to be able to “get him.”

First. Ew, Not that Uzi wasn't attracted to him, she was. (Not like she was ever going to say anything.) But talking about anyone like that was gross, and this was N, Her best freind.

Second. How dare she drag his name in the dirt with her! She could drag Uzi's name around all she wanted, it would just be treading old ground. But N? He'd done nothing to Chloe, except maybe make her feel things? She didn't know, those comments were so weird and uncomfortable.

She pushed out the thoughts from her mind when she reached N's door, partly thankful for her switch to being a night owl, she rarely saw any of her classmates anymore, except Thad. And when she did it was incredibly brief, when she was turning in her work.

Because yes, she was still going to school. She just did all of her work at home. What else was she supposed to do after murdering half her class? V had taken the blame, but that didn't mean everyone else didn't know the real culprit.

The door swished open, revealing N still on the couch, watching Tera as she rolled around playing with her jingling roll toy, he smiled when he looked up at her, worry leaving his visor somewhat.

“What'd he say?” He asked, motioning her to sit across from him, which she did, her eyes going back to Tera, who rolled over to her, jingling all the way.

“I mean, he asked a bunch of questions. But he didn't stop me sooo…” She flashed him a smirk and he felt his eyes roll, even still his smile didn't leave, instead he tried to relax, keeping an eye on the pillbaby as Uzi picked her up, looking down at her with a small smile.

“She's getting sleepy… do you know where that charger went?” N looked over and noticed that Tera's eyes were substantially dimmer, as well as her normal rolling had slowed down.

He plucked the charger put of the bag and handed it to her, and Uzi began the process of lifting her hoodie and undershirt enough to plug it into herself, thankfully, this didn't time it didn't seem to be painful.

She plugged the normally excitable rolling machine into her side and her eyes immediately brightened, and Uzi's visor immediately filled with a warning, telling her a foreign entity was drawing her power.

She closed it instantly, old JCJenson warnings that no longer applied. The pop-ups were still annoying regardless.

“There you go, happy now?” She asked the infant as if she could respond, and she did, by rolling into Uzi's chest and yawning, before quickly falling into sleep mode.

N just watched, smile never once fading from his face. He'd known that he rather liked seeing Uzi interact with Tera, as she was normally at her softest. But with that added context that this was now his daughter she was interacting with left him with his core full of fuzzy cotton.

“You're really good at that.” He pointed out as Uzi tried to get get comfortable with a baby attached to her, though it was rather difficult, as the cord was quite short and didn't leave much room to menuver.

But she still looked up at him, a small blush on her face that he caught a glimpse of before she turned away.

“Just practice is all.” She waved off, finally giving up on being comfortable and just sitting awkwardly stuffed into the couch with Tera laying on her stomach.

“You're still amazing at this. I would be totally freaking put right now without you being here.” He admitted, trying to make her take the compliment without waving it off, it was probably never going to happen though.

“Your instincts would have kicked in, and you'd get all fatherly on her without my help.” She laughed, and put a hand over Tera to steady her, as the action disturbed her slightly.

“Seriously, you're way better at this then you think you are.” She hummed, presumably to get him to shush about it.

At that moment Tera became unplugged, starting her into a fall off Uzi, rolling off and beginning to plumet to the hardwood floor, N immediately rocketed forward, catching the little pill before she ever touched the ground, even if it left him in the rather awkward position of his legs still on the couch as the rest of him was on the floor.

Tera giggled sleepily before going back into sleep mode, satisfied with her mischief.

“See? You already have the reflexes.” Uzi pointed out and caused N to look back at the pillbaby with a smile.

Maybe he could be alright at this after all.

Next ->

[magpod-confessions]

...the extended sounds of brutal pipe murder are kind of underwhelming and didn't really sell the moment. doesnt sound brutal doesnt sound like a pipe doesnt sound like a murder and it doesnt last very long so its not even extended. kinda just sounds like someone whacking a punching bag with a baseball bat a couple times. i love me some bpm shitposting as much as the next person but the fandom really overhypes the actual moment. like yeah they didnt exactly have the resources to make super convincing bespoke sfx but leitner doesnt even gasp or make a noise or go "ouch". that can be explained by leitner either being knocked unconscious by a blow to the head or him getting the breath knocked out of him, but if it was the former case the sound shouldnt have been so soft, and in the latter case we still shouldve heard leitner getting the wind knocked out of him (see: that one lord of the rings bts clip with christopher lee demonstrating being stabbed.) tl;dr extended sounds of brutal pipe murder overrated

.

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Twenty Four: A Fuckton Of People SS: 7 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 1.08K Content Warnings: talks of murder, talks of drug use Previous Next Masterlist

The atmosphere in the living room is charged with an almost palpable tension as everyone looks at the murder board, their expressions a mix of determination and dread. 

The whiteboard glimmers under the glow of the overhead light, illuminating the central focus, a haunting photograph of Yeji. Her image is pinned firmly to the board, and beneath it, the word DEAD is scrawled in heavy, jagged strokes of black marker, an ominous declaration of her fate. Surrounding Yeji’s picture is a chaotic collage of newspaper clippings, suspect photographs, and hastily written notes sprawling across the board like a frantic tapestry of clues and suspicions. 

Jeongin steps back, arms crossed over his chest as he assesses the board, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “Alright,” he begins, the frustration clear in his tone, “we’ve confirmed it wasn’t Mingi. The bastard was in custody by then.” He glances over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “But Ryujin, she’s an obvious suspect. Girlfriend, easy access. But what about motive? I mean, Yeji helped her cover up Yuna’s death.”

Minho, leaning forward on the couch beside Hayun, interjects, “Maybe Ryujin thought Yeji was about to stab her in the back? If she thought Yeji was getting nervous, she’d want to shut her up.”

Jisung nods, his expression grim as he picks up a photo of Ryujin and slaps it onto the board with a quick, decisive motion. “Fair point. Even if Yeji wasn’t likely to rat, Ryujin’s paranoia could have made her act. And who else should we consider? That creepy priest guy?”

Felix raises an eyebrow, scepticism in his voice. “What would the priest’s motive be? But yeah, sure, put him up there. We’re leaving no stones unturned.”

With a mischievous grin, Jisung grabs a printed photo of the priest, adding him to the ever-growing board. The faint sound of tape ripping as he sticks it in place punctuates the tension.

Hayun, leaning against the armrest, speaks up, her tone more analytical. “What about Yuna’s dad? If he found out Yeji was the one who dumped his daughter’s body in a septic tank, that’d give him a damn good reason to want her dead. He’s a cop; he’d understand exactly how to make someone disappear.”

A murmur of agreement ripples through the room, and Jisung taps his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, if Mr. Shin believed Mingi was responsible for Yuna’s death, he’d assume Mingi would enlist someone like Yeji for the cover-up.” He scribbles “Mr. Shin” on a neon Post-it and slaps it up on the board.

Hyunjin, who’s been standing back, arms crossed as he observes, finally steps forward, his voice steady but grave. “And what about Lia? She was still on the run back then, and she��s known for holding a grudge.”

Jisung adds a new photo of Lia to the increasingly chaotic tapestry of suspects. The board is a swirling mess of faces, names, and motives, each with its own dark twist.

“Then there are Yeji’s clients,” Changbin pipes up from the couch. His voice is low, but it cuts through the noise as he leans back, arms stretched out. “She had quite a few people buying from her. Anyone in her circle could have wanted her gone.”

Jeongin makes a note, scrawling A FUCK TON OF PEOPLE and slapping it beside Yeji’s photo. A shared glance between everyone confirms the grim truth: Yeji wasn’t exactly winning any popularity contests.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, throwing out another theory. “Or it could have been someone connected to one of her clients—someone with a grudge. Think about it: they might have blamed Yeji for what happened to someone they cared about.”

Jisung lets out a half-laugh, rolling his eyes as he scribbles another A FUCK TON OF PEOPLE on a fresh Post-it and pins it up beside the others. The sheer number of suspects is overwhelming, each connected by a web of lies, betrayals, and deep-seated grudges.

Seungmin, who’s been sitting off to the side, shakes his head, his voice laced with dry humour. “So, basically… a fuck ton of people wanted Yeji dead?”

Minho sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Pretty much,” he mutters, sounding both exasperated and resigned.

Hayun, watching the board with a critical eye, leans forward, her expression sharpening. “But we’re missing one angle.” She picks up a Post-it, writing ACCIDENT in bold letters before pinning it next to Yeji’s photo. “We all know Yeji got paranoid as hell when she was high. Every time I’d get high at her place, it was like walking on eggshells. What if she went to check on Yuna’s body in the tank while she was high… and accidentally fell in?”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone considers this new possibility. Jisung shrugs, though he doesn’t look entirely convinced. “Worth putting up there. If it turns out to be that simple… honestly, I’d be relieved.”

Felix, his brows knit together in thought, leans in. “Wait, when did they find Yuna’s body? Just over a week ago, right?”

Seungmin nods. “That’s what the news reports said.”

Hyunjin clears his throat, looking more serious than usual. “Right. And according to the pathology report, Yeji died less than twenty-four hours before they found her body in the tank with Yuna.” He digs into his bag, pulling out printed photos of the report. “Since I’m her next of kin, I had to identify her. Managed to snap a few photos of the report when they left me alone with it.”

He hands the photos to Hayun, who scans them carefully. “It says here she had molly in her system.” She pins the report to the board, then rips down her ACCIDENT note, her face hardening.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, curious. “Wait, if she was high, wouldn’t that support the accident theory? Why take that down?”

Hayun shakes her head, her expression tense. “Because the report also says her lungs were clear. If she’d fallen in alive, there would be tank water in her lungs. She was dead before she was put in there.”

Minho nods grimly. “Dead people don’t crawl into septic tanks on their own.”

Seungmin lets out a low whistle, rubbing his temples. “Alright. So someone definitely put her in there after killing her. The question is, who hated Yeji enough to do that?”

They all stare at the board, at the messy, chaotic array of photos, notes, and lines connecting suspects, each tangled in a web of secrets. The silence stretches, heavy with the weight of what they’re up against, until one by one, they murmur the grim truth in unison.

“A fuck ton of people.”

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