#- Black Hole Tragedy

[toaarcan]

I think Fiona's betrayal makes way more sense and fits into the narrative better if you simply bump it to after the destruction of Knothole.

Like, in the actual comic it kinda comes out of nowhere, and it's heavily tied into the romance plot tumours and Issue 150. Fiona's actual character is barely important, she just disappears for five issues and comes back with a new personality, her old trauma in high gear again (but girl, if you're mad at Sonic for abandoning you, why the feck are you running off with Second Sonic Who Is Worse?), and an ideology that makes zero sense with her history ("You can't count on anybody" says character who has literally never been independent and will never become independent).

And the fallout is incredibly understated and after literally two issues nobody cares any more except Tails. And he's done caring after 179 closes.

Betrayal is supposed to be impactful.

But if you shuffle the order of the stories around, don't even change the actual content, then the whole thing becomes a buttery-smooth consistent arc and Fiona's character development, while not a good thing in the long run (Scourge literally would've killed her in 196 if his plan had succeeded, she traded the stunningly mediocre partner that was Sonic for a literal monster), actually makes sense and is front and centre in her story, instead of what we got, which is "Fiona ascends from background character to weird love interest to an accessory for Scourge who is defined entirely by Scourge."

Fiona being driven by her trauma to hate Sonic for leaving her behind is a reasonable angle, it's where she started in the Knuckles comic, but it's been so long since that was relevant to her character that dredging it up years after the fact in a different book would only ever be jarring. Unless, say, history repeated itself and all those wounds got opened up again.

Eggman drops out of the sky, razes her home to the ground, and shoves her in a prison to be used as fodder for one of his sick creations, just like Robotnik did all those years ago. Only this time, the prison is so small that she can barely even move, and the machine she's going to be fed into is much worse. It'll kill her, twice over, draining her life-force to power Eggman's machinery and wiping her mind for no reason other than "Eggman's a sadistic asshole."

She gets to see the effects up-close too, via Charmy's brain damage.

And while it's unnecessary, as I think the actual plot of the issues needs no alterations to make sense, you could nonetheless add a small scene during the rescue where Sonic saves Fiona from the Egg Grapes and says he won't make that mistake again. A small hope spot before it all comes crashing down.

Because it does! The arc ends with the Freedom Fighters standing triumphant over a wrecked Egg Beater. They could easily grab Eggman and drag him into the brand-new prison that Nicole put Mogul, Naugus, and the Hooligans in. They have turned their darkest hour into an opportunity to win the war... and they don't take it.

Eggman flies off, clinging to an Egg Flapper and doing the "I'll get you next time, Gadget! Next tiiiiiime!" bit, and the heroes just... stand there.

And that's where the (hypothetical) hope spot gets dashed. Fiona, already uncertain of her place in the team after 160-1, loses faith in them completely. She just lived through the worst experience of her life again and the heroes of this world are doing nothing to prevent another repeat.

It even makes her "You can't count on anybody" line actually have some weight. She genuinely feels like she's been failed by them, that she put her trust in these people and they still turned on her at a moment's notice, and they're not doing enough to actually save the world. It's like Scourge says in 172- she "wishes [Sonic] had a backbone."

And then, after all that, there's the big Fiona Betrayal Issue except now it's actually about Fiona and not just about giving Scourge a girlfriend, and that's followed immediately by the Sonic vs. Tails issues. There's no time to process what just happened, everyone's emotions are still extremely raw, and it boils over into a fight between brothers that's more about venting all those nasty emotions they've been holding in for a while now. Sonic has been through a lot lately, he just lost his home and repeated one of his few failures, and he's not long lost Tommy too. Tails is dealing with emotions that he's not mature enough to process properly and healthily, he grew up too fast, but not evenly. And at the end of the day, they're both still just kids.

I still think 179's ending is an overall horrible way to to resolve that plot thread, and further reduces Fiona to an object to be fought over, but I'm not heavily changing the content of the issues, only the context.

I've never been a fan of villain!Fiona, I've made that clear in the past. I like it as a step on a journey that results in her healing, but I found its start confusing and messy and the rest of the arc lacklustre and far too focused on Scourge, rather than Fiona herself. But I think putting it in this order makes it flow a lot better for me.

If I write Sonic stuff again, I'll probably do it with this as a headcanon of what went down in the 170s.

[giganonyx]

My dad was downloading some pictures from my moms phone to his laptop, but upon seeing the downloaded pictures he gave her a weird look like “what is this??”

We were like “what”, and he responded with “there’s just.. Star Wars pictures.”

And my soul left my body because we realized it was downloading everything from the CLOUD

THERE ARE SOME THINGS IN MY GALLERY THAT ID RATHER THEY NOT SEE?? THEY ARENT READY FOR WEREWOLF HUNTER STOP ✋✋✋

HE EVEN CHUCKLED AND SHOWED ME THE SCREEN- IT WAS MY HUNTER STASH‼️‼️‼️

“It’s all just that Rambo guy Giganonyx likes a lot.”

STOPPPP THE HUMILATION ✋✋💀💀😭😭

Pray for me y’all my goofy cringe ass is NOT going to survive this

[cuntstable]

thinking about how stocean wouldnt exist or would at least be crazy different if araki hadnt read Holes like right before writing it LOL

[padfootastic]

You know what I just thought of that makes Sirius’s lack of a trial even more ridiculous? The timing of everything, Sirius is arrested a day or two after Halloween, way too soon for everyone to accept Voldemort is truly gone (especially because it’s unclear if there was a body or if Voldemort just vanished). This is the man that everyone evidently believed was Voldemort’s right hand, yet nobody interrogated him to see if he knew where his Master was or what Voldemort was planning?

THE WHOLE THING IS SO MESSED UP UGHHHHH

like, i genuinely don’t know how it was allowed to be published bc,,,,there’s literally zero sense or continuity in sirius’ plot line. like, how did no one take two minutes out of their time to change it to something more coherent??? fanfiction authors could do it so well, i’m sure the bigwigs would’ve managed if they’d bothered to try. but of course, jkr hated sirius and he wasn’t a significant enough character to care about.

[muscosus]

pls recommend me devastatingly full of yearning gay shows/movies.... 🫥 i probably watched most of them but still. i need something to fucking obliterate me

[ketavinsky]

anyways, being in nz to write weird kids is mega wack. ive had horrible extremely symbolic nightmares about my parents for the 4 months leading up to the trip and now that im here i really do realise that i would have killed myself if i hadnt moved to australia. 2019 was a fucked up year and i withdrew from so many people i cared about because i was so horrified and ashamed of what i came from and in 2020 i had to really reckon with the consequences of that but thank god now i can funnel it all into weird kids, the appetiser to The Worst Series Ever

[letsdiskuss6]

A black hole is a place in space where gravity is incredibly strong. It's formed when a massive star collapses, becoming very dense and compact. Nothing, not even light, can escape from a black hole because its gravity is so powerful. Black holes have a boundary called the event horizon,

[daisychainsandbowties]

she left you.

that's how your story ends.

she left you, full stop. you will not allow extenuating circumstances or qualifying statements to soften the truth.

Beatrice left you. she made her choice. (she apologized.) no one is coming to save us, you told her, so this is as good as it gets. (you tried to save her anyway.) you may be in hell but you are in hell together. you burn together. you suffer together. you ache together. (this time you make the pain yours.) you choose the sting of teeth and nails on skin over the stench of seared flesh and ozone, and you would weep from the sheer novelty if you remembered how to cry.

(Lilith pretends Beatrice never cared for her to begin with.)

(Lilith pretends Beatrice never made her hope for something more.)

(it's easier this way.)

anon you did not just write me fic of my fic 🥹

this is so gorgeous and you’re so right this is the tragedy of lilith realising that she wasn’t enough. she was never enough. she was a scab over a wound larger than both of them and now she is a girl left standing at the altar. she’s the wreckage you walk away from, the scene of the accident that lets you call yourself a survivor.

she has lost everything not just once, but twice

i can’t believe you came into my inbox and made me this unwell about my own fic anon you are a treasure

[ghostkid9]

What I said about my story before about how our emotions impact us and those around us is still true, the real essence of my story is how in general we impact those around us, for better or worse.

And when that manifests into the real world, it becomes a messy and chaotic world where things don’t makes sense.

Yet, despite it all, we try to find the good and have fun because otherwise we’re stuck in misery.

[paladinbaby]

a patch of white anemones

the iliad, tr. emily wilson / electra: a tragedy, tr. anne carson / the lathe of heaven, ursula k. le guin / @insomniac-arrest / the first bad man, miranda july / what resembles the grave but isn’t, anne boyer / rabbit heart (raise it up), florence + the machine / burrows end, @dimension20official / the burglar of babylon, elizabeth bishop

[Image Description: Ten images of text. The first image is a photograph of a book page but the rest are black text on a pure white background.

1: “You already know this story. You will die. Everyone you love will also die. You will lose them forever. You will be sad and angry. You will weep. You will bargain. You will make demands. You will beg. You will pray. It will make no difference. Nothing you can do will bring them back. You know this. Your knowing changes nothing. This poem will make you understand the unfathomable truth again and again, as if for the very first time.”

2: “Electra / And I know there is something all wrong about me - believe me. Sometimes I shock myself”

3: “The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.”

4: “The first rule of tragedy is to be yourself. The second rule of tragedy is to be literally anyone else. The third rule is that however much you try there is no escaping being yourself forever.”

5: “Then I realised that we all think we might be terrible people. But we only reveal this before asking someone to love us. It is a kind of undressing.”

6: “Always falling into a hole, then saying “okay, this is not your grave, get out of this hole,””

7: “I must become a lion hearted girl / Ready for a fight / Before I make the final sacrifice / We raise it up, this offering”

8: “i think for myself, when I go back to that time, the number one emotion associated with it is tremendous shame and embarrassment which is the emotion it would take to never mention that to anybody”

9: “You were good to me, and I love you, / But I’m doomed” End ID.]

[postersofleon]

Honey Has Value

In Leon's first mission, everyone warned him about the merchants that come every once in a while during dangerous situations. Nobody knows them. But everyone trusts them enough. Even Krauser, who was very sensitive in whom to trust with his weaponry. The merchants are the most chaotic neutral people who would sell to any person who had enough gold or anything in value. During one of his missions, Leon finally saw one of the merchants.

content: smut

notes: pre resident evil four; afab fem!reader; he forgot to socialize thanks to working in the military; reader is pretty femme by wearing a black dress; sexual frustrations coming from leon; small mentions of rotting flesh, leon is an awkward flirt; guys, even though i write smut, i hate booktok, does that make sense or i'm giltching in the system. smallish smut, little story.

taglist: @argreion

Leon could believe in Umbrella's cruel experiments. He had seen these monsters who are kindly called bioweapons, and even though Leon isn't forced to fight against them. He sometimes saw the creatures they turned into, and that was enough for a young rookie cop to see. He then had to mistrust his own government for wanting to harm a young child. Leon panicked and immediately a blackmail was tied around his throat.

A perfect noose around him. A traumatized man can't go back to his old life. Leon had to help a girl he barely saw in the tragedy of Raccoon City.

All because of his stupid want to help people. He was sinking in this damn hole depression, and he wasn't even allowed to go to therapy. When he was excited to talk to Claire, she wasn't there because she was still searching her missing brother.

Leon was alone. Leon didn't even have time with Sherry.

He believed in all of these faults of the world. It was a nasty cruel world that could barely be saved. Leon didn't even save Sherry. That was thanks to Claire. In that night, he didn't save anyone, and he trusted a bad person who fell to her death. Every inch of Leon's body knew guilt, the disappointment of the world, and bioweapons.

But why couldn't Leon didn't believe in this random ass Merchant? Merchants sounded like scumbags and fake to the bone yet everyone in his section of soldiers swore up and down that they are real and good enough.

They only appear in missions. The government doesn't pay for them to help. And none of them are the same person over and over. One had a handsome man with a bow tie; another had an elder woman, and lastly, Krauser even said he had dealt with a pair of twins. That's what made Leon struggle to believe this was real.

None of these people were truly scared to show their faces, but they all had the same name of merchant.

They had no true agenda. No sense of good or bad.

Leon hoped to never see them in his own missions. He didn't care if they had helped them before, Leon wasn't interested in them no matter how much.

His mission was down south. He had to learn Spanish in case the issues came to his language, but he knew the main part of the mission. A couple of normal soldiers came here, and we were murdered by a couple infected by the T. Leon was the next best option.

And Leon came ready. If a merchant was going to be there, he'll ignore them, no matter who it is.

Once he entered the place, it was a lonely village that was nearby an Umbrella lab, so he had already concluded who was going to be here. His heart beaten fast when he saw a person infected by the T. A poor woman whose skin was rotted away. Leon killed her without a second doubt. Even if Leon had the cure in his hand, he wouldn't want to use it on her, especially with the heat of the brutal summer.

Not only was her skin rotted. There was hole in skull that he didn't even make.

"How unfortunate," Leon immediately turned to whom it belonged to, "Seeing death is always unforgivable." A woman with a black dress was behind a desk of items. Due to the circumstances, she was hauntingly beautiful with the death surrounding her. It took a moment for Leon to realize it. She is a merchant.

"Hi, stranger." She smiled politely at Leon.

"Hi." Leon said firmly.

She played with string of pearls around her neck, "I'll be helping you with.... your situations." She seemed so nonchalant, her voice was relaxed as if the danger could never harm her.

"Situations..." Leon looked around her store of items. She had almost everything in this little place, a small box with a strange symbol planted on the center. "I'm sure you are betting for to get into those situations." Leon muttered. But she shook her head. It was almost automatic.

"Goodness, no!" She exclaimed loudly. "My services are here to help you. To assist you." She placed her gloved hand between him and her. "May I? Free of charge."

There was a silence between them. Begrudgingly, Leon handed his gun to her, "Careful with it." He muttered.

She grabbed the gun, "SG-09 R. Quite impressive." She clocked it and checked the modifications in the gun. "Fast, strong, and made by Kendo." She pointed the gun towards a section and shot a glass bottle. "But I can make better. Especially with the control of the government." She broke up the gun and grabbed a small bottle of oil to ease up the details of gun. "Do I permission to change the glock?"

Leon nodded his head.

The merchant got into work, she brought out the small tools to work on the gun, and changed very small details of the gun. After a couple of short minutes, she twirled the gun back into place. "Here you go, stranger." The merchant handed the gun back to its owner.

Leon lifted the gun and noticed the differences. She didn't change the drastic differences of the poor gun, but it made it functional for the monsters. He pulled on the trigger and shot the a piece of wood. The gun shot faster.

She grabbed a rag and cleaned her gloved hands. "It's easy as they come." She smiled. Her fingers returned back to her pearls, dragging the details bit by bit. "I love helping the new."

Leon wished he was normal. His dumb mind entered cave man for like three seconds. Maybe it was the small praise he got from her or how the merchant spoke to him without belittling him. He felt his cock twitch, "Yeah, thanks." He awkwardly put his gun back to its holster.

He promised himself the less impossible thing ever. Leon was spending a lot of time with the merchant, he saw her how her knife formed small knick knacks from wood. "Look." The merchang leaned to show him. It was small wooden figure of him. Leon took in a sharp exhale.

"Nice." He whispered softly.

"I give them to the other merchants so they can sell them." The merchant smiled. Her painting was very gentle, every brush was made with love. "Why sell them?" Leon asked. "It's like discount. If you have this." She lifted a small shield-like charm, "You'll have an upgrade with any merchant."

"Oh, that's great." Leon eyed her face, "So, if another merchant sees it, they'll automatic give you that help."

The merchant smiled, "Exactly." She continued the paint and Leon was just looking at her, "So, what perks will I get if I buy my small keychain?" He whispered softly. The merchant sighed softly, "Mm, well, how about 30% off when I fixed that knife of yours."

Leon nodded his head as he continued to look.

As time passed and such, Leon did his job and then immediately went to her section to 'buy' stuff. All that time of bothering the merchant, he finally got what he wanted as she pumped his cock.

She was on her knees as she pumped his cock into her mouth, Leon's hips moved up, "Fuck." The merchant rubbed the red tip and sucked it gently. He needed this after so long. Leon's hands covered his face, his cheeks were red and he was ultra sensitive over everything. The merchant rubbed Leon's tip around her lips and left his pre cum around them.

He chewed on his lips trying to keep quiet in case an infected could find them. The merchant's hand pumped his length, "I do the first time free." She teased him. Her hand slide down his cock and massaged his balls. He didn't know if she spoke the truth, but he was willing to pay for this again. The merchant's tongue dragged against his shaft and kissed the tip. "Just fuck me. Please."

The merchant shook her head, "You'll need your energy for the fights." She looked at his cock and placed his needy self inside of her mouth. She gagged weakly, his hips weakly moved against the merchant's mouth. He needed to cum and go back to work. His hands traveled around his pecs and squeezed them, he noticed the merchant noticing those details. Leon blushed but didn't stop himself as he played with nipples.

Flicking them a bit trying to help the simulation. She bobbed her head faster and he groaned. "Fuck, fuck-" His cum erupted into the merchant's mouth and it slowly fell out, she licked the mess without an issue. Leon groaned loudly feel his body relax bit by bit. His eyes completely soften and gently caressed her face, "Mm, thank you."

When Leon was back on his feet, he felt her hands smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt. He felt too easy, but he liked her touch.

As the sun set above him, the merchant waved politely a goodbye to Leon; He simply nodded his head, his legs were a bit weak, but he had to go back to his job.

The next time he was with the Merchant, he was between her dress. He licked her pussy, his hands opened her thighs to shove himself deeper. Her cunt was keeping him sane after the brutal fights, her hands grabbed his hair and pulled his straight blond hair. Leon growled weakly, "Please, I just need your cum." No extra steps, he wanted it. His tongue moved around her clit and once he heard the merchant's moan he focused on it more.

His fingers shoved inside of her pussy and pumped them in and out. His tongue licked the wetness that poured into his hand. His finger curled up and fucked her up. The merchant's legs squirmed around Leon. He licked up the pretty hole and removed his fingers again, her thighs clenched around his face as he fucked her with his tongue. Flicking it over and over, he pulled it out and sucked her clit. She groaned loudly, her legs opened a bit, and Leon kissed her thighs over and over. The merchant released, Leon's fingers rubbed gently her cunt and licked the mess.

He was thankful for the merchant's services.

[zelphin124]

Killer x Y/N short story

One of the few short stories I will be writing. Requested by the wonderful @itsxroxannex as her honorable mention prize.

I do write commissions and short stories! Do you want a story? I can work with a small price (:

I'm using an image from Bing Image Creator to help the readers visualize where they are at and who they are talking to. It's for visual purposes only, and I do not claim it.

Enjoy the story!

~o0o~

The light from the sun bouncing off the rock hallways started to fade as the moon rose. The dripping from the ceiling had stopped, and monsters and humans started filling the tavern. It was supposed to be very busy tonight.

The tavern was underground, just below the surface life. Dartboards hung across the walls on various barrels. Small candles were lit beside them, either hanging from the ceiling or resting on uniquely carved tables. Carpets were strung across the floor, filled with old designs and symbols that the humans didn't understand, and the monsters refused to explain.

The bar itself looked like any other bar, but the counters were carved into the rocks and the drinks were stored within the earth. The tables were made from woven branches, and the chairs were also made from scattered parts of trees that were no longer needed elsewhere.

You weren't much for drinking. You had only come to the bar to talk with your friend, Shiro. Shiro ran the place during slow hours. Now that the night rush was coming, his co-workers came in to help him run the shift. He wouldn't have much time to talk anymore.

You started to pack your computer, flinging your bag over your shoulder. Shiro had told you of the many tales and tragedies that happen during the night rush, and you didn't want to stick around to become one of them.

"Leaving so soon?" Shiro asked as he wiped the table where you just sat. His baggy white hair fell over his face, and he smiled softly.

"You know how I am with crowds," you responded, hoping he would get the hint.

He didn't. "Well, surely it shouldn't be that busy tonight-"

He was cut off as three skeletons walked down the entrance stairs. It was apparent that they were some sort of gang, as they all wore the same-colored jacket, pants, and shoes. Each of them stood proudly as everyone went silent.

The tallest one had a large hole in his head, and his left eye was huge. It glowed red and barely made any movement when he looked around. He hunched over and had a large ax on his back. He never stopped smiling, which left an unhinged feeling in everyone who saw it.

The shortest one wore a hood over his head. His eyes glowed red, and one of them had a purple and blue tint to it. Unlike his tall counterpart, he never smiled. He glared at everyone who even dared to look at him. Monster ash covered his clothes, sparking fear in all who noticed.

The third one seemed the most normal of the group. His smile was contagious, and his extroverted personality always drew attention to him. Big black stripes dripped from his void eyes down to his neck. His coat was fluffier than the rest, and his soul wasn't hidden. It hung in front of his chest like a big red target. He twirled a knife in his hand before resting it by his side.

The Murder Time Trio, you recalled. You recognized each of their faces from wanted posters across the town. Working under Nightmare, they worked to harvest negativity.

The Star Sanses - rulers of this AU amongst many others - wanted to bring them to justice, but with all of the Sanses abilities to travel alternate universes, they were hard to track down.

You couldn't buy into the fact there were other worlds than your own. The only reason you believed it was the evidence before you; multiple versions of the same person taking different paths.

Shiro glanced over as the tavern filled with noise and music again. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a notepad and pen before walking over to the table they sat at.

The dart games began. Multiple people threw darts across the room to the targets. According to Shiro, this was how all the drama started. Someone would think a shot was unfair, and a fight would break out.

Deciding it wasn't the best idea to stay any longer, you weave through the crowd of monsters and humans trying to get to the bar to drink. You glanced at the table where the trio sat as they talked with Shiro. You pray they don't do anything to your friend.

As you stood between the dart targets, waiting for the round to be over, you eavesdrop on Shiro's conversation. He seemed bored, surprisingly.

"I'll have a margarita," the striped face one said.

"A big beer, please," Horror lowered his head.

"Think you can handle one of those again, Horror?" The striped face asked.

Horror didn't answer him. He waved his hand in dismissal to Shiro as he looked at the menu.

"I see," Shiro scribbled down the orders on his paper. "And for you, Dust?"

"Nothing," the hooded skeleton replied. "Someone has to be sober when Killer isn't."

"Hey, I would do just fine," Killer smirked. "I don't see you..."

The conversation faded out of hearing as shouts echoed across the tavern. Glancing behind you, you see a human and a monster arguing about who hit the target first as they shot their darts at the same time. The shouts almost frightened you, and you didn't think before stepping forward. Your goal was to get away from the chaos before more violence broke out. Maybe you shouldn't have come here, maybe it was a bad idea after all.

A dart flew towards your face.

You didn't have time to react before you were pulled off your feet, resting in the mercy of someone's arms as he caught the dart. "Woah darling, careful there," he sighed, his head turning toward the people who threw it.

You realize the man, or the skeleton that saved your head was Killer. His grip was firm around your waist from when he had pulled you away from the weapon. He dropped the dart and continued to glare at the monster that had thrown it.

The people playing the particular dart game went dead silent, all pointing to the person who threw the dart. He didn't seem to care. "Oh, come on, she walked in front of it! It's not my fault!"

"Pay attention to your surroundings more, mm?" Killer smirked, tilting his head. He turned towards you before the others could reply. "You too, cutie," he smirked, poking your nose. "Gotta be careful in places like these~"

His grip on your waist loosened as you backed up. A blush painted your face as you stared up at him. As your blush increased, so did his smile, making you blush more. The blood rushed to your face as you tried to cover your cheeks with your favorite-colored scarf.

"Do you seriously have to flirt with everyone you see, Killer?" Dust snapped, opening a deck of cards and flushing them across the table.

"Look at them, they're pretty!" Killer replied. "I didn't want them to get scratched by a silly dart!"

"Then they shouldn't be in a place like this," Horror rolled his eyes, glancing at the deck of cards Dust had started dealing.

Instant guilt washed over you. You didn't mean to cause any trouble, and Shiro was nowhere in sight to defend you. You gesture to Killer, thanking him for saving you before telling him you'll leave to not cause any more trouble.

Killer looked you up and down, smiling as his eyes made their way back to your face. "What's your name, Hun?" He smirks slyly.

You tell him your name, scratching your head in the process. One of the most wanted men in the multiverse was talking to you. In fact, he smiled when he looked at you. How could this be?

"Y/N, what a beautiful name," Killer takes a step closer to you, extending his hand. "You plan to get on out of here? I can make sure you get home safely."

You open your mouth to accept the offer but hesitate. He, along with his friends, were mass killers. It was obvious by the dust and blood across their clothes. Was he going to kill you? You had no idea.

If he was, then why would he go out of his way to pull you away from an incoming dart?

"Killer, you play or not?" Horror asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"Not now," Killer didn't take his eyes off you. "I wish to walk this lovely human home."

"Oh, can I come?" Horror smirked, his hand reaching for his ax.

Dust slapped his hand. "Not that kind of walk home," Dust rolled his eyes. "Look at him! His soul his turning into a heart! Pathetic, really."

Dust wasn't lying. Killer's soul had taken the form of an upside-down heart momentarily. You tilt your head in curiosity, surely that was a good sign.

"Hey!" The monster that had thrown the dart earlier shouted. "You broke my dart with your disgusting fingers!"

Killer raised his eyebrows as he shrugged. "Oops."

"That dart cost me hundreds of G!" He growled. "You're gonna pay for that!"

You felt Killer's hands run along your shoulders. "Time to go~" he whispered behind you.

As the monster tumbled near, he suddenly faded from sight. Everything vaporized into stripes as the underground tavern disappeared and was quickly replaced with the cool breeze of the surface.

The moon glimmered in the sky next to the stars as it shined down on the slightly paved street. There were no streetlights, but you could see the village in the distance. Fireflies glittered the sky along with the stars. There were a few trees and a river to cross, and the bridge over the river linked the road.

"Whew, that was close," Killer chuckled, letting go of you. He walked over to your side and smirked down at you. "Don't worry, he won't catch us now."

"Thank you," you sighed with a smile before walking toward the village.

Killer started to follow you. "Hey, I know we like, just met, right? This is a little crazy," he glanced down at the ground as he caught up to you. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he couldn't stop smiling. "But can I get your number?"

You widened your eyes, surprised. He really wanted your number after two minutes. Surely that couldn't be... This couldn't be happening, right? Wasn't that a red flag of some sort, and you, out of all people? You didn't see why someone as famous and as brave as him would pay attention-

You snapped back into reality, realizing that you had given him your phone, and he was already punching in his own number.

"Thanks, doll," Killer smiled to himself. "I didn't expect you to actually say yes. I'll fulfill my promise; let's get you home safely."

How the- you paused, unable to comprehend what just happened.

Despite the darkness and eerie noises surrounding you, you felt at peace. You couldn't help but wonder if that was because a skilled killer was by your side, ready to defend you if anything came your way. He made that clear with his actions at the tavern.

It didn't take long for Killer to start a conversation. He asked many questions and answered any questions you had. He often would laugh, smile, and tease you in such a way that made the butterflies in your stomach squirm. He was very charming, flirtatious, and unique. You couldn't recall if you met anyone like him.

And you liked that.

He was so different from everyone else that you had met, treated you well, and it was so easy to be yourself around him. He brought out a side of you that you thought died a long time ago. That side that made you feel... wild and free.

"Look look look," Killer begged, running off the path toward a lake. He picked up a rock and threw it across the water's surface. It must have skipped a hundred times before it plunged into the depths below. He picked up another one and did the same thing. "It's perfect water to skip the rocks on!"

You join his side and sit on a boulder nearby, watching him skip rocks as he continues to tell you about the first time won a card game, which you learned wasn't very often due to Dust having a special connection with cards.

"The look on his face when I won, hah! Priceless! Should've known better to have challenged me!"

You asked him if he had won the next two games after that.

"Uh, no, but that's not the point silly!" He smiled, heaving a great sigh as he looked up at the stars. He closed his eyes, letting the wind blow across his face as the ripples on the lake settled. The moon complimented his face and made him seem so peaceful and innocent. It highlighted his chest and showed the two small eyes that he had hidden within his skull.

You commented how he looks great in the moonlight. When he asked you how so, you got up and pointed out the various places the moonlight shined on him, and how it made him look so handsome.

"Tch, you're sweet," Killer snickered, brushing the hair out of your face. "But the moonlight on me is better on you."

Before you could recover from the sudden blush, he continued. "Have you ever skipped a stone across the water?"

As you shook your head, Killer frowned. He turned you around to face the lake and picked a stone up from the ground, admiring it in the moonlight. "Here, I'll teach you darling." He placed the stone in your hand and gestured that you try.

You tossed the rock into the water, it sunk in front of you.

"Heh, not like that." Killer came up from behind you and grabbed your wrists gently. "Here, let me guide you."

For the next thirty minutes, Killer moved your wrists in the correct motion. He gave tips on what to do with your fingers when you release the rock. You would have gotten it much sooner if you weren't so distracted by his sweet breath brushing against your cheek.

As you threw your hundredth stone, it skipped across the water more times than you can count. Joy filled your face, and your smile only increased when you heard Killer congratulate you.

"That was awesome!" He gleamed, running his hand along his skull. He quickly picked up a stone and skipped it across the water to catch up with yours. "Fast learner, eh?"

Before you could reply, Killer came up to you and embraced you. His hug was so snug, you felt safe in his arms. You wrap your arms around his back as the tension in your body flees. He was so warm, and he held you so tight... you didn't want to leave his arms.

Alas, it didn't last for long. Killer smiled and took your hand, guiding you up back to the path. "Alright, it's best I get you home, cutie," he smiled slyly. "The boys are probably wondering where I am."

You were closer to your home than you thought, to your dismay. Killer stood close to you, putting his hood over his skull to hide his face from the town as they turned down the street to your house. You almost had forgotten that he was a wanted killer with how enjoyable your time was with him. Surely, he wasn't all everyone said he was... he was so nice to you.

"Lovely house you have, I'll have to visit you sometime," Killer commented, smiling his usual charming smile as you approached the door. "Y/N, it was fun getting to know you, I'll call ya, alright? You're too pretty to say goodbye to, anyway."

You invited him to stay and watch a movie, but he declined.

"Nah, I'm sure Dust and Horror would be suspicious... besides, I cannot stay in the town for long unless I want Nightmare mad..." He took a few steps toward you until he was inches away from your face. He continued to smile as he took your hand. "However," he paused. He lifted your hand up to his face and kissed it gently. Once he met your eyes again, he smirked softly again. "I'm sure I could make an exception for you another night."

You didn't know how much more of his teasing you could take as your face turned red. You held your hand as if it was made of diamonds.

"Heh, you're so cute," Killer backed up into the street. "See ya later, Y/N."

You barely waved in time before he vanished from sight.

You couldn't stop thinking about him for the rest of the night. He treated you kindly, and his jokes were so funny... you longed for his company, despite his reputation. How long had it been since the tavern? A couple of hours? Were all monsters like this? Maybe there was a special thing about monsters where you grew attached quicker than another human. As if they understood the value of another living being and had a way to make another feel at ease around them. You tried to figure it out as you winded down for the night.

Maybe they were masters at this feeling that you felt: love.

Or maybe Killer was just special like that.

[st4rbwrry]

━━━ 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑒. a.h

warnings 𑄽𑄺 6.4k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, murder mystery, aki is a chef, oral [ f + m.], sneaking away, marijuana use, praise, fingering + finger sucking, aki's tongue is pierced, sexual acts happen quick, mentions of depression, brief mention of emotional/physical abuse, reader is desperate for help/attention, parental neglect, grooming, minors aren’t allowed.

━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; another old piece of mine i never fully finished and now posting yrs later!

“okay, i'm out!" aki is shouting as he tosses his white chef coat over his shoulder, book bag on the other, the cool breeze of spring blowing through his raven hair the minute he opened the tall glass door that led to the front of the restaurant. his friend, also a coworker, is busy, in the mix of gathering dirty dishes and clearing trash bins but still sends him a farewell, a quick, 'see ya tomorrow. good job today!' till he's off to his bus stop. he was thankful he got out early, just before five in the afternoon meaning the sun hadn't set yet.

he sighs, extremely worn out, in dire need of a steamy hot shower and a greasy pizza while laying in the comfort of, finally, his own apartment he worked entirely too hard to gain. the commute to his place in brooklyn, new york became rather annoying due to rush hour traffic at this time. having to take the bus then switch to the 'n' train, hopping off and walking fifteen minutes until he finally reaches his destination. his second goal was to afford a vehicle to save him money instead of wasting it on expensive monthly metro cards.

aki's lived here his entire life, growing up in the bronx, not much different. he loved new york, but not their uppity expenses. the fact that he's paying nearly two grand for a 600 square-foot apartment with no in-unit laundry nor a gym at that, was nonsensical. did he want to reside here forever? yes. he'd feel homesick if he ever were to leave. having the opportunity to travel seemed like a much better alternative, that way he'd still have his home but be anywhere in the world doing what he loved, and that was cooking. aki hayakawa was twenty-six years old, earning his master's in culinary arts at the culinary institute of america, also known as the C.I.A.

his ultimate dream was to open his restaurant, which he would name after his tragically deceased mother. a terrible accident in which he dreads the memory of. falling endlessly into a black hole, hearing nothing but the sound of his own fear, the breaking of his bones when it interacted with brick interior, the feeling of his heart thumping excessively against his chest as he continued to drop deeper like a rock that was chucked down an empty well. this emotion he knew all too well; failure. when he lost his mother, it felt as if the world crumbled beneath him, malicious dark vines slithering up to grab him by his ankles and pull him down a bottomless pit of nothingness.

he tasted the agony, the anger, the sadness, and even the hate from the fact that she was gone and never coming back. countless tantrums, anxiety attacks, and depression summed up the apathy of it all. it took him six years to realize that drowning in pain would never help him gain the strength that he knew she wanted him to have. by letting her witness the pain he was going through from above, he was hurting not only her . . but himself. so to overcome the tragedy, he kept himself busy with cooking. going to school, earning his degree, and the current job he had with his best friend since middle school.

school was probably the greatest thing he'd ever done to reinvent who he was as a person. cooking is a delicate yet challenging obstacle to undertake, yet, it's so therapeutic to him. the nature of it all, being able to witness what he can do for many people, bring laughter and happiness—it's a beautiful thing. when aki was small, he and his mother would give back to people all the time. whether they were donating clothes to the homeless, or feeding small pigeons pieces of bread on a sunny day as they flew to the gray pavement, awaiting a feast. they always cared about others. they would experiment a lot, going to food markets just to come home and whip up a good meal which they would then donate to the less fortunate. that's when he learned how humble he felt to give back to those in need.

he wanted to show his mother his achievements, to push himself and become a world-renowned chef, just like gordon ramsey—without the aggression. he wanted his name plastered on articles for his extraordinary talent, talked about on tv, in fact, given his own cooking show on foodnetwork. aki grew up watching that channel, an obsessive enticement his mother could never break the young boy from. he was making recipes at the age of twelve, and learned how to cook at eight. eggs were the first thing, usually everyone's first, then as time progressed, he grew from simple pasta dishes to revitalizing gourmet meats, and anything french. just recently he schooled himself on how to create wine. every day he learned something new, and that was the beauty of culinary.

"hayakawa! come here!" star yells as soon as she sees the tall man emerge through the front door, ready to start his morning shift, raspy voice laced with slight panic, instantly making the man run to her out of worry.

"what's wrong?" he furrows his brows.

"look who just fucking walked in," she grabs his bicep, pulling him closer to the front counter. aki curiously follows where her finger points, seeing a slim man with black curly hair dressed properly in a white and black suit. silver and sapphire rolex on his wrist, his pale green eyes scanning through the lens of his glasses at the menu while he sips his water. expensive.

"i have no idea who that is," aki blinks, making star gasp.

"he's alexander bodari, one of my favorite authors of all time. remember the novel i told you i was reading, about this girl who was kept in this lunatics basement and almost murdered?"

aki's eyebrows raise. "the book dylan bought you for your birthday, right?"

"yeah! that's him. oh my fucking god, i'm so nervous, whew," star begins to fan herself, nearly having a breakdown. aki grabs her shoulder and chuckles.

"chill out, star. you don't have to serve him if you don't want to."

"of course i do! i just. . . can't," she frowns.

"you can, you've done it many times before. this isn't the first celebrity we've come across."

star sighs, nodding. "you're right, i can do it."

"good girl," aki smiles, patting the top of her head. star catches his wrist and scowls.

"fuck off."

"aki," another voice calls to him, this time it's the head chef, also known as his boss. aki greets him with a small, 'good morning, chef' before waiting for his response.

"i'm guessing you know that alexander bodari is here," lane says, arms crossed over his broad chest. aki nods. "i want you to cook for him."

aki and star share a glance of shock.

"uh, why me. where's dylan?"

"he's not feeling well so i gave him the day off. you're the only one here that's near his level, and he's a higher-up man, so i want you to cook for him. star will cater to his needs. we're kinda short-staffed today, and i trust you two will handle it properly."

"yes, chef," they say in unison.

star was only a waiter, working here for four years while aki earned his position two years into her time. the last thing the woman could do was cook, ironic since she worked in a restaurant with very talented people. lane would've asked her in a heartbeat if she was as skilled as aki. aki was known for making dishes at the top of his head, so if anyone asked for a special, he was the one to ask. before they began to serve anyone inside, aki gave star a small prep talk before sending her out. eventually, she got through with taking his order without stuttering or sweating. when she walked back into the kitchen, actually shoved the doors open with a joker smile on her face, aki cocks his head at her.

"you—"

"he wants your special!" she screams, doing a goofy dance, and skipping in her spot.

aki's face drops. "are you deadass?"

"yes! when he was looking at the menu, he saw your four courses on the back and chose your mom's stew! fucking a, man!"

aki is still frozen, weakly giving star their signature handshake, smile slowly easing onto his face. "my mom's stew? seriously?"

"yeah. chop chop, get to it."

aki was persistent. no one's ever ordered his mother's stew, which made this day very special for him. even if the dish was only on the menu for a month, it still meant a lot to him. he made sure there were no distractions, taking a tender chuck roast and cutting them into cubes, seasoning them well while throwing in worcester sauce, balsamic vinegar, garlic cloves, bay leaves, and beef broth. making a slurry with flour and water to thicken the stew. adding onions and potatoes. it was a simple yet fulfilling dish he looked forward to every sunday.

"deep breaths," star whispered as she carried the steaming tray of stew plated professionally on a porcelain oval-shaped bowl. in a way, it felt like she was telling not only herself but him. it's a rarity that people order his courses, and serving this to an author, a bestseller, a man worth millions, made him giddy. he was cheesing like an idiot, pushing star out the double doors to the dining area.

although as soon as she walked out, that's when doubt clouded his gut. did he put too many seasonings? is the meat tender enough? what if he doesn't like it? will he write about it on his author blog? god, he hoped the potatoes weren't hard. he had only tasted the broth, it tasted just like his mother's. what if. . .

"aki," star walks back in, an even wider grin on her a-symmetrical face this time. he blinks, realizing that he's been standing here for three minutes now. "he wants to see the chef."

he's dumbfounded. "me?"

"no, lane. yes, you!" she's squealing like a girl, and sometimes he forgets she is one, even underneath her blunt features and boyish sense of style.

he's clearing his throat now, strolling mindlessly towards alexander bodari's table, greeting himself and waiting for his constructive criticism.

"you're aki hayakawa?" the man questioned, lifting his glasses back onto his face.

"yes, sir."

"i just have to say," alexander chuckles, softly clapping his hands. "this may be one of the best stews i've ever had."

the tenseness in aki's shoulders relaxes, and he's sighing with relief, alexander noticing and laughing. "i'm really glad to hear that, sir."

"did you create this on your own?"

"it's actually my mother's recipe. it's my favorite. every time i make it, it reminds me of her."

"that's really ironic because this reminds me of the stew my mother used to make," he grins. "yours is the first that i haven't seen carrots in."

aki laughs. "my mom hated cooked carrots."

"mine did too," he fixes his collar. "is this your restaurant?"

"no, no. i'm just a cook here. i plan on opening my own soon. i already have my master's."

his brows raise. "wow, that's amazing. wow old are you?"

"twenty-six, sir."

"well, you're definitely going places," he compliments and aki feels even more satisfied. "say what, i'm having this pre-book release, about a hundred guests. i was wondering if you would like to cater the party. i'll pay you however much you want."

it's like the whole world collapsed on his chest. he'd never gotten an opportunity like this, especially this big. to cook for so many famous people at once was a blessing. he could really show off his skills if he took this offer . . . and did. after thanking him, exchanging contacts, and then handshakes, aki lets the man finish his meal before jogging back into the kitchen to scream about it to aki, lane, and the rest of the crew. alexander offered star to come along to serve, but unfortunately she couldn't, seeming as she'd be out of town for family matters that day.

alexander, of course, knowing she was a big fan signed a copy of his book she already had in her bag and letting her know she could help the next time he had an event. that made her happy enough. the two of them couldn't wait to finish their shifts today, taking the train to star's place and planning dishes all night, even cooking them to get them just right. alexander was hosting the party at his penthouse down soho. and aki had a week to prepare himself.

୨♡୧

cashmere sweaters, silk gowns, and jewelry that most likely cost more than his savings account roamed the lovely terrace of alexander bodari's home. every inch of it screamed filthy rich. rows of tables were set outside, the dark night sky making the moon shun brightly amongst the glass centerpieces filled with calla lilies and moss. white cloths, sterling silverware, and porcelain dinnerware. the terrace itself was elegant; freshly cut bushes trimmed as squares, a marble three-tiered italian water fountain placed in the middle. roses, dandelions, tall plants ranging from bamboo, snake plants, and pothos. alexander was very in touch with nature and his spirit. it's crazy he writes about the things he does.

speaking of, the book he was presenting that would be released in august was titled, 'to riven a magnolia.' he wouldn't quite reveal what it was about yet, wanting it to be a surprise, but did read an excerpt from the novel. aki only paid half attention, big words throwing him off plus he wanted to set the food table properly so guests could take what they wanted after his reading. aki didn't go all out since only seventy-two people were available to make it, and he didn't want any meals that would make anyone too full to converse, so he kept it simple yet exquisite. each guest received a slice of japanese fluffy cheesecake with a side of strawberry and mandarin orange tanghulu. beef wellington, and a six-sided cream garlic bread.

he received praise all night long. people gasping and thanking him for the food, giving him all sorts of compliments making the man blush like a child. at one point he held both sides of his face in his palms when a woman and her husband approached him to talk, way too shy, and the woman flirting with him didn't make it go away. eventually, her husband dragged her out of his sight. the night went on, classical music played as people sipped their champagne and talked about their wealth, their yoga classes, their thousand dollar dogs, golf, marketing . . . aki hopes he never becomes this way.

as he's pouring an elderly lady a glass as she rambles about baking, he notices a woman he's barely seen all night. he's disoriented, eyeing this girl leaning up against a vintage roman painting reaching the ceiling once the lady departs. brown eyes; the first captivating part of her body he captured. they appeared lonely, bored perhaps as they scanned through the crowd of people, soon landing on another pair, his own. the godly woman stared at him longingly. aki had no business nearly losing his shit under her gaze. wow. she was truly stunning.

one feature that stood out the most were the freckles scattered from the bridge of her nose to the swell of her cheekbones. pretty. her black hair styled protectively in butterfly locs that grazed her collarbones, seeing the industrial piercing hiding behind a piece. her lashes were long, naturally extended. heart-shaped lips were full and pouty, the upper lip brown while the lower, salmon pigmented. an emerald satin mini dress loosely clung to her alluring brown skin. cowl neckline, ruched waist, and an open back partially revealing the red dragon tattoo painted on the side of her hip. black suede gucci heels strapped prettily around her ankles, showcasing her white painted toenails. a three layered gold necklace on her chest. this woman, you, were the rationale of celestial.

it was the moment you smiled at him, tilting your head slightly to the side while tapping your ombré acrylic nail amongst the glass of your champagne, calling to him while he thoughtlessly followed, that aki would realize he had made one of the worst mistakes in his life.

"you're pretty."

it's the first thing you say when he walks towards you, offering a piece of cheesecake with a cheeky smile. aki is taken aback, chuckling nervously, palms already clammy the minute he approached you.

"pretty?" he's perplexed.

"that's what i said," you say, taking the gold fork from his palm and cutting a slice to taste, widening your mouth while maintaining eye contact. the man swallows.

"uh, i've never gotten that before. thank you."

you're too busy eyeing him to say a thing. even if he dressed in simple black skinny jeans and same color tee, a silver necklace tucked beneath his shirt, sable combat boots, and a white apron around his waist . . he looked damn good. his eyes were blue, somewhat smoke gray, dark hair long and straight, the top half tucked into a small messy bun on the back of his head. a few loose strands swaying around his cheekbones. he was tall, shoulders broad, forearms and hands slightly veiny. you gazed at his hands holding the plate for you, wide and rough, fingers long.

"you don't seem to be enjoying the party," he says, knocking you out of your daydream.

you hum with displeasure. "he's a fake."

aki furrows his brows. "sorry?"

"alex, he's unoriginal. most of his novels are stolen by people he pays to keep quiet," you side-eye him while downing the last drop of your champagne, slowly licking your lips. his eyes flicker there for a split moment.

"how do you know?"

the question makes you quiet, tapping your glass. "think of it like this; everyone starts off as a cocoon. eventually as time goes by, we evolve into butterflies. the cocoon represents our innocence; the purity and unawareness of what's to come in life. once we sprout into butterflies, we become tarnished, facing the real world and learning to adapt to its cruelty. life can be beautiful, but it's always painful no matter how happy or dismal we are. it's our choice to fly in the direction we want for ourselves even when the harshness of life beats us down. butterflies only live for so long. we disintegrate after inhumane amounts of stress, loneliness, or tragic events that take a toll on us, removing the power of staying beautiful. we show beauty to the public but don't feel it when everything around us is falling apart. but we can't make life harder on ourselves by dwelling on what we can't have rather than pushing for what we can have."

aki is speechless, half-understanding what you meant. "are you saying alexander is a butterfly that can't fly?"

"he's more like a mosquito, latching onto those who want to sprout into a butterfly but sucks the nutrients from them for his pleasure. he's a fraud. he'll never be a butterfly because he simply can't."

"did he steal from you? is that why you resent him?"

"no," you bluntly state, although aki doesn't believe you.

he takes the fork from you, cutting you another slice before holding it towards your lips, waiting for you to bite. you looked like you needed it. the drowsiness in your eyes may have indicated that you were tipsy. you giggle, shaking your head before he feeds you, your big eyes captivating him more. "is there something you want?"

"you."

aki nearly chokes and he's not even the one eating, your bluntness throwing him in a spiral of emotions.

"am i beautiful to you?" you lean closer, aki swallowing, scanning his surroundings. most of everyone remained in the living area, the two of you far behind a wall near the glass door of the terrace. he could smell your scent better, a sweet smell of caramel. soft skin shimmering with glitter.

"very."

"so what's stopping you? you got a girlfriend or somethin'?"

"n-no, it's just. i barely know you."

"that's part of the thrill," he watches as your small wrist turns and your palm is flat outward. "come upstairs with me."

like any man would, his feet walked on their own, stupidly following behind you up the black marble staircase, hand in yours as his eyes watched your hips switch.

"what's your name?" that should've been the first thing you asked, idiot.

"[♡]."

"i'm aki."

"i know who you are."

that's right, alexander introduced him to everyone after his reading right before supper. things felt like they went too quickly. aki didn't know who he was at this moment, completely floating out of his body and letting you take over like a spell. he was entranced. one thing leads to another, you're locking the door to one of the four bedrooms here. aki's sitting on the bed while you walk around, talking to him more about anything. his age, his aspirations in life. nonsense, basically. until he notices something.

a room with an open bay window revealing the late-night city of new york, stars in the sky, skyscrapers high. the breeze is warm, the air making the fabric of your dress rise just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the pink thong you wore. he's gulping, your legs shifting and a grin coming on your face as you see the tint of red blush across his cheeks. you're leaned against the window, toes pressing into your other foot, a gold anklet with the first letter of your name clasped on your skin. your shoes were off, and in between your two fingers sat a blunt, maybe about three inches now since you were too busy talking, letting it burn away.

once you flick it out the window, you fully turn to face him, sharp nails skidding up your thighs teasingly slow until the hem of your dress rises fully, and he's staring at the belly button piercing you have. your thick thighs, your curves, and your nipple when you moan and lift your arms to stretch and one of the straps falls down your shoulders.

"oops," you're pouting, and aki's had enough. he got it now. he understood why you wanted him to come up here. the liquor buzzing in your veins, and going straight to your clit like a drug. you wanted him the moment you saw him. you needed him, for more reasons than one.

aki was always one to put a woman's pleasure before his own. so when he saw you drop to your knees to crawl towards him, dainty hands trailing up his clothed thighs until you're undoing his belt and he's biting his lip. . . he was drawn in further. pulling him out of the confinement of his jeans, holding his pulsating dick in your hand, darting your tongue out, and pressing it flat to the aching head. he's squeezing his eyes shut when he's deep in your throat after a while, moaning around him and twisting your hand along as your mouth glides. his hand is in your hair, gathering some of it in his large fist while leaning back a bit to see those gorgeous eyes of yours stare into his, slightly watery. he liked that. he liked you.

"nnn, baby. like that," he's throwing his head back, jaw slacked as he tried to keep his voice down, not daring to let too much slip out regarding the guests below them. eyes back on you, he's watching as your hips gyrate in the air, desperately needing to be touched.

it's so foreign, this level of intimacy. it's been so long since he's had his dick buried deep in anything. sure, he masturbates like any other human being, but it's a rarity. he's so consumed in work that by the time he goes home he's knocked out in slumber, not even thinking about grabbing his fleshlight to fulfill his pleasure. the last time he had sex was at the beginning of his freshman year of college. it was some girl in his cutlery class who invited him over for late-night drinks, leading to more than just that. it was frequent until he realized he was failing courses because of the distraction and had to get back on track, so, he called it quits.

now he's pulling you up, feverishly pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss, lips smacking, tongues bumping. you're keening when his thick fingers clasp around your throat as you straddle his waist, clinging to his shirt you eventually pull over his head. it's as if the both of you forgot that people were here and might hear you, but neither of you cared. aki's not even scolding you when you're moaning too loud the second he has you beneath him, your clothing still on, barely, and his jeans and briefs clinging to his ankles, your knees to your chest as his hot mouth latches around your puffy clit, back arching off the plush mattress.

the metal from his pierced tongue rushing against you as he holds the back of one of your thighs to keep them up, grunting and swallowing your arousal. you're whining so much it has his dick twitching, pulling on his hair not helping either. you're rocking your hips with urgency, legs twitching after he lifts his head to spit, collecting his saliva with two fingers before curling them into you, holding your stomach down while he shakes his fingers. that alone has you convulsing around him, tears in your eyes as you whimper his name and squirm helplessly, his lips kissing your inner thighs.

coming down from your high, aki's already propping himself behind you, turning you on your side while he laid on his, leveraging your head with his forearm underneath your neck, fingers in your mouth you suck while glaring at him. he curses, monotoned voice rasping, "don't do that."

"do what?" you hum, wrapping your lips around them again and moaning.

aki clenches his jaw, lifting your right leg to open you up before slipping inside, hearing you gasp as you adjust to the stretch. both of you groan in unison, turning your face to the side to kiss him while your nails clawed at his hip, then his ass as he rolls into you, too horny to be gentle and snapping his hips hard against your ass, grunting, "i heard you, girl," and drilling faster. your eyes scroll to the back of your head, aki swallowing the breath out of you as he sucks on your bottom lip and chokes you, the two of you whining in each other's mouth, muffling the noise although the skin interaction didn't cease.

he's brutal, a different person when in this form of bond. dropping your leg and reaching between to rub at your clit, heavy breaths on your neck as he hides his face there. you can easily smell the citrus scent of his shampoo, his scent overall a main attraction when he stepped toward you. . . like lavender. when he's nearing his climax, he gropes your chest, slurring, "be a good girl and cum all over me, baby. can i feel it this time?" and you nod, doing just as he says, his taunts and praises making your gut swim with butterflies.

you try not to scream as he licks and bites your neck sloppily, dazed. instead, you grab a pillow nearby and stuff part of it in your mouth, aki's face hovering over you as tears leak from your eyes and you cum hard, harder than you ever had. aki holds you close by your waist, taking a few more pumps before he furrows his brows and slowly pulls out, cumming on your flush skin with a hiss. by this time, his hair had fallen down his face completely, and even in your fucked out state, you reach up to rake through it with a lazy smile. aki chuckles, kissing your forehead before building the strength to find a cloth to clean you up. luckily, there's an en-suite bathroom, giving him access to warm water and toiletries.

fixing his posture in the mirror, he's rubbing his face and adjusting his clothes to appear as he did when he arrived; neat and professional. although what he just did wasn't so classy of him. he fucked some woman he barely knew at a millionaires home. work, he was working. not here for personal pleasure. he wanted to slap himself for being so easily enraptured. no one had to know about it. he only hoped not a soul downstairs heard what went on.

he's good to go, done scolding himself and turning off the bathroom light before stepping out. he finds you perched up, sipping a miniature bottle of crown royal you found in the bedside mini-fridge, sniffling your nose and blankly staring out the window. aki comes forward, gently grasping your thigh and gliding the wet cloth over your skin, the silence awkward.

"dandelions.”

aki's eyes slowly drift to your face, staring in confusion. "what?"

he notices how eerily slow tears built up in your eyes, gripping the bottle harder before exhaling. "dandelions," now you're finally looking at him, the coldness on your face making him anxious. "that's where his body is."

your voice is like vanilla. it's one thing about you that he grew infatuated with. it's one of the many reasons he was captured by you, brought to where he was now. standing at the bedside as he watched tears pool down your broken face. body? what body?  he grew cold, nervously eyeing you as you sniffled, standing to fix your hair, dress, and walking around the bed to slip back into your heels.

“wait," he goes to grab your arm when you try to walk out the door. "what the fuck are you talking about?"

the deadness in your eyes scares him even more, and he's panicking when you say, "alex."

“alexander?!" he shouts, dragging you away from the exit, hands on either side of your shoulders as he eyes you, his own wide. heart pumping drastically. "what did you do? where is he?"

"by the dandelions on the terrace," blunt, again. as if you aren't phased at all by his reaction. "follow me."

he's stunned, unable to fully process what you were telling him. he already assumed the worst when the term 'body' came to light. though his heart raced heavily in his chest, his feet blindly dragged in your direction. cautiously watching your every move in case he had to protect himself. fuck, he didn't have any weapon. then again, he's sure he could easily handle you, knock you out if he needed to. lock you in a closet and alert the hundreds of guest just below their feet. that's right, there are still people here. and if you mentioned alexander, how the fuck and when the fuck did you have the time to . . . kill him? 

"[♡]," he began to speak your name, but your head was in the clouds, ignoring anything that came out of his mouth as you cut into a passageway that led to a grand master bedroom, then facing the terrace you spoke of. he was nervous, your neck turning to eye him as you step onto the gravel, blankly staring down at something. he couldn't see from where he stood, matter of fact, he didn't want to see.

"he's here," you say. "he's here."

aki has no choice but to advance forward, wanting to squeeze his eyes shut from the upcoming scare of a human’s body. and not just any human, the alexander bodari. a flaccid arm sticks out from beside a bush, palm facing the sky, details of a struggle bruised into his hand as the skin in the area seemed peeled. aki’s heart drops the closer he gets, hand covering his mouth as he stares down at the lifeless body laying in a pool of blood. the aluminum wire draped around his neck stained with blood gave aki the answer he needed when it came to the cause. you strangled him to death. the question remains; who are you and how were you affiliated with alexander? most importantly, why’d you kill him?

“i don’t understand,” is all he can get out.

“the proof is in his first novel,” you utter, and he’s still confused. “the story about the woman who’s trapped in the psychopaths basement? it was about me.”

aki couldn’t grasp the thought of you being the woman from the novel star always talked about. that you had been the victim of his story. that it was a real life phenomena. that he met you, slept with you, and now you want him to, what . . . cover up a murder in a house filled with two hundred guests?

“he painted this image as if he was the most prestigious man on the planet. he made money off of real events. events that played out by torturing me, and using me to get his ‘creative juices flowing.’ he needed a test subject. he was a sick man who deserved to die,” tears pour down your face, the anger in your tone thick and pent up from years of pain and sorrow. “he was my father’s partner. my father despised me simply because of my resemblance of my mother and my rebellion against him. when he died from heart failure, in his will, he married me to alex.”

“that’s fucking. . . sick. i didn’t think that was possible in this day and age.”

you scoff with agreement. “yeah. he watched me grow from a preteen to making me his wife. sick bastard for sure.”

aki wants to vomit from this information. still unable to wrap his head around any of it. his hands sit on his hips as he stares up at the sky and blows a raspberry, try to keep his nerves together. you watch him with sadness, and maybe regret. you weren’t intentionally planning for this to happen. though part of you wanted someone to save you. to see the real you and rescue you from this torment.

“i know this is probably the last thing you expected to happen. i apologize for dragging you into this. i just didn’t know what else to do. i felt hopeless. and i refused to let his popularity run by making another fortune of a sick novel.”

“did he attack you?” he asks.

“he didn’t,” you clarify. “i think i just finally snapped. granted, tonight of all nights wasn’t the correct setting.”

aki makes a face that reads ‘fucking clearly’ as he rubs both palms down his face. he doesn’t know whether to run and call you insane or feel sympathy for a victim. but, murder is murder. and now, standing here with you, that’d make him an accomplice. as scary as that was, he couldn’t risk his future career. but he was stuck in a pickle. he wanted to help you.

“there are clear signs of struggle, so we have to make it look like an accident,” aki suggests, but immediately, you shake your head in disagreement.

“they won’t believe that. he’s one of the wealthiest men in new york. it’ll be a huge investigation.”

“then the only answer would be to tell the truth,” he finalized.

“the . . truth?”

aki nods, pulling you toward him and stepping away from the body, chills still going up his spin and goosebumps on his arms. “listen to me, you can tell the world exactly who you are and what he’s done to you. you have proof. transactions, marriage certificate, i’m sure there’s documents for days in his computer that can prove what he’s put you through. there’s evidence somewhere.”

“and if i tell the world, who’s to say they’ll believe me?”

“i believe you,” aki says. your eyes fill with hope, and thankfulness. “people will have their opinions, but we know the truth. do you have anyone else that can be your alibi?”

you think long and hard, until it hits you. “the maid. she’s been working for him ever since i moved in after my father died. she’s fed me, helped me heal wounds . . even get rid of his unborn child i lost after too much stress.”

“jesus christ,” he bows his head in disbelief. “where is she now?”

“luckily, the kitchen. the woman with the braided red hair. she promised me she’d always protect me. after his book succeeded he became nicer to me, gave me a ‘real’ marriage. she was like his mother, always scolding him when he raised his voice at me or wouldn’t let me live my life. it’s all so depressing.”

“okay. it’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” aki comforts you as you begin to sob once again, cradling your head in his chest.

the night ends in the blink of an eye. aki takes you into another room and wraps a blanket around you as you sit on the edge of the bed and wait for the police. he finds the woman you spoke of, pulls her to the side and informs her of the tragedy above. she herself looks relieved. not at all shocked by what played out, as if she knew you’d go through with it. aki guesses he truly was a horrible man. and to think he would’ve worked for him in the future. the police arrive shortly after the woman goes to check on you, insuring that everything would be okay, and that she’d stick to the full story. the police instructs everyone the leave the premises, aki being questioned for a full hour, this home becoming a crime scene, and all of their faces full of black ink on the daily news the next morning.

aki will never forget the chilling smirk on your face as they removed alexander’s body from the terrace. it was . . haunting.

[fernclans]

A time to start anew.

(tw for blood, violence, and implied death)

“Cliffpaw, grab the kits and run--!”

A small red tom woke with a start, fear and adrenaline filling his veins as the thick stench of blood filled his senses. The lone apprentice of ▇▇Clan doesn’t even take the time to stand properly, bolting immediately from his nest and sending its contents scattered behind him. He barely has a moment to parse the camp in front of him before whirling on his paws and angling left to the nursery; he couldn’t count how many cats had already fallen, but against such a massive enemy the tom knew instinctively they stood no chance either way.

Misfortune had followed a patrol home; a patrol of young wolves out for a hunt. The packs northward had been growing larger over the past seasons-- more pups meant more prey which needed to be killed. Though predators themselves, Cliffpaw knew it was foolish to believe cats weren’t also prey in their own right.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Let’s get going!” a kit nearly his own size shoved his way past ▇▇▇▇, a smaller she-kit following behind with what could only be a moon-old kit in her jaws.

“Head to the tunnels!” ▇▇▇▇ shouted over their shoulder, just barely audible against the snarling and barking of wolves.

Giving himself a firm nod, Cliffpaw overtakes the eldest kit and begins to pick up the pace. “Follow me-- I can lead us somewhere no wolf can find.” He hoped. He’d only been there once, two moons prior the beginning of his apprenticeship with Magpiestar; The Moonlit Caverns. A place where those blessed with the ability to do so commune with their ancestors, sacred and protected.

A small dip beneath a stone obscured by plants Cliffpaw never learned the name of marking an emergency tunnel into the system below -- it was narrow, and not well-maintained but it would have to do. A shriek sounds from behind him, shrill with terror. “AMBERKIT!” Cliffpaw hears the tomkit shout as his eyes meet the dark stare of a wolf whose jaws clamped around the tail of the white and grey tabby she-kit.

“Take the little one and through that hole and RUN-” Cliffpaw orders, hoping his few moons of training would be enough to save Amberkit and get out of there before the wolf could get a worse hold. Without hesitation, he lunges forward and latches to the large hounds face, teeth fighting for a grip against its massive forehead. 

He looks down at the wolf, eyes black and hollow, and then further down at Amberkit, tiny and helpless within its jaws. His paw begins to slip when an idea strikes him. Leaning into the weight, Cliffpaw scores his left-front paw down the wolf’s left eye and landing with a thud when it pulls itself back, a high-pitched whimper leaving its muzzle, releasing its hold on Amberkit’s tail.

His mind fights to take the moment to look across the camp while the wolf was still dazed -- were ▇▇▇▇ and ▇▇▇▇ still alive? Did they somehow escape as well? Precious seconds are wasted while Cliffpaw fights against himself, muscles tensing in indecision. A growl, deep and low is quick to make the decision for him. The red tabby surges forward, grabbing Amberkit by her scruff and forcing himself through the tunnels.

Whatever happened above, they would have to get through this together.

hiii welcome to my latest little clangen venture :3 this save, i selected a single apprentice and all the kits i could and decided to let it up to fate if they can rebuild from such a tragedy post style will probably change moon to moon while i figure out what kind of flow i like, but i hope you enjoy!

[sneeg-snag]

Loop, Stars, and Tragedy.

Here to Help - ISAT // Into the Cosmos // Old, Old Picture // Black Hole Choir // Milk - Jack Stauber // A Mirror - ISAT // Dust- Genesis 3:19 // Heavy Metal Stars // Starchild -Ghost Quartet // Any Day Now - Bo Burnham // Jealous - ISAT // Distance // Party - ISAT // supernova - Yasi // Handful of Stars // A Tragic Hero // A Wish - ISAT // Understudy // A Wish... for Help - ISAT // The Deal -Mitski // Tragedy. - ISAT