#I consumed too much horror content lately

[ministarfruit]

bad ending

[stormyfog]

mine to keep 🔒

yandere bf niki x fem!reader

content: yandere behavior, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, manipulation, smut later on

chapter 1

i met niki through a dating app, and swiping right on him was the biggest mistake i’d ever made. at the time, it felt harmless—a quick match with a guy who was just a year older than me at 19, which i didn’t mind. his profile had been charming, his messages even more so, and when we met in person, his confidence and charisma swept me off my feet. i didn’t realize then that behind his captivating smile was a possessiveness i wasn’t prepared for—a side of him that would slowly, but surely, consume me.

when i told my friends—momo, tzuyu, and jay—that i finally had my first boyfriend, they were ecstatic for me. momo practically squealed, tzuyu smiled softly and called it “about time,” and jay gave me a playful nudge, saying, “he better treat you right, or he’ll have to deal with me.” since niki was my first boyfriend, i had no idea what to expect. the butterflies, the nervousness, the constant overthinking—it was all new to me, and my friends were my lifeline through it all. they offered advice, shared their own experiences, and told me to take things slow. “just be yourself,” momo had said. “if he’s the right guy, everything will fall into place.” at the time, i believed her.

niki invited me over to his house for a movie date, and i happily agreed. we ended up watching a horror movie, and every time a jumpscare popped up, i found myself gripping his hand tightly. he chuckled softly at my reactions, and i couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. but then i noticed something—niki wasn’t watching the movie at all. he was watching me. i turned to him, catching his gaze, and asked if something was wrong. “nothing,” he said with a small smile. “you just look so pretty.” his words made my cheeks burn, and i quickly turned back to the screen, trying to focus on the movie. before i could settle, niki gently turned my face back toward him, his hand soft on my cheek, and leaned in for a kiss. my mind raced, unsure of what to do, until i remembered what my friends had told me: just be yourself. with that in mind, i closed my eyes and accepted his kiss, letting myself get lost in the moment.

as the night went on, i realized it was getting late and told niki i should probably head home. he looked at me, his expression soft yet persuasive, and offered for me to stay the night instead. “it’s late,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “you’ll be safer here.” i hesitated, unsure if it was too soon for something like this, but then i reminded myself that this was probably normal when you start dating. after a moment of debating with myself, i nodded and agreed. “okay,” i said quietly, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in my chest. niki smiled, leaning in to kiss my forehead, and led me to his room, where i couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and uncertainty about what was to come.

that night, niki and i cuddled in his bed, his arms wrapped securely around me as we drifted off to sleep. the next morning, i woke up to find him still sound asleep, his peaceful expression making my heart flutter. i gently shook him awake, whispering that i needed to go, but instead of letting me go, he pulled me closer, his voice groggy as he mumbled, “no, don’t go yet.” he pressed soft, sleepy kisses across my face, his warmth making it impossible not to smile. i giggled at his reaction, feeling my cheeks heat up as i relaxed into his embrace, savoring the moment a little longer.

a few minutes later, niki finally got up and offered to drive me back to my house. i didn’t think much of it at the time and agreed, not realizing this was another mistake—now he knew where i lived. when we arrived, i said goodbye and thanked him for the ride, waving as he drove off. the moment i stepped inside, i pulled out my phone and texted my friends’ group chat, giving them a full update about what had happened. momo sent a string of heart emojis, tzuyu told me she wanted every single detail, and jay jokingly asked if niki had passed 'the big brother test' yet. i couldn’t help but laugh at their responses, feeling like everything was falling into place perfectly.

chapter 2

i had finally decided it was time to introduce niki to my friends. after all, things were getting more serious between us, and i knew my friends would want to meet him. we all planned to hang out at the mall, and niki was eager to join. when we met up, momo and tzuyu immediately started making ‘oooh’ sounds, teasing us about our relationship. niki just chuckled, his arm wrapped around my shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world. i couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, but i was happy to see them getting along so well. jay, on the other hand, wasn’t as open with his emotions. he smiled and gave niki a friendly nod, but i could tell there was something in his eyes—a hint of jealousy, maybe? it wasn’t surprising, considering jay had been my childhood friend, and i knew he’d always looked out for me. still, i appreciated that he wasn’t letting his feelings get in the way of our fun. throughout the day, niki spoiled me by paying for all my things, something that made me both grateful and slightly uncomfortable. i didn’t want to feel indebted to him, but the way he smiled at me made it hard to refuse.

it had been a month since niki and i started dating, and while things were still good, i began noticing some subtle changes. he had become more protective of me, constantly telling me that i didn’t need my friends and that i deserved better. at first, i thought it was sweet, a sign that he cared about me, but then it started to feel a little... off. i didn’t think too much of it, chalking it up to the fact that he was my first boyfriend, and i didn’t know much about relationships. what really started to unsettle me was how he became more possessive, constantly checking in on me and questioning where i was or who i was with. i brushed it off, thinking maybe it was just his way of showing affection. what i didn’t know, though, was that he had already crossed a line. while i was asleep at night, niki had snuck into my house and inserted a chip into my phone, silently spying on me without me realizing. i didn’t suspect a thing, and i thought his possessiveness was just a normal part of being in a relationship. but in the back of my mind, something felt like it was slowly shifting.

as the days passed, i began to feel a growing unease about niki’s behavior. i couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right, but i didn’t know how to confront him about it. so, i turned to my friends’ group chat, sharing my concerns and asking for their thoughts. momo, tzuyu, and jay all told me that it sounded like niki was becoming a little too overbearing, warning me to be careful. but i brushed off their advice, convincing myself that they didn’t understand. after all, niki was just being protective, right? he was my first boyfriend, and maybe i was just overthinking things. eventually, i stopped paying attention to their messages, silently pushing their concerns aside as i convinced myself that everything would be fine. niki’s love was just... intense. and i figured it was just part of being in a relationship.

niki’s words began to linger in my mind more and more. he started saying that i should move in with him, so we could be together all the time. at first, i hesitated, unsure if it was too soon for such a big step in our relationship. i didn’t know if it was the right decision, but the thought of always being close to him, never having to leave his side, started to feel comforting. niki promised it would be the best thing for us, that it would only bring us closer. my friends, however, didn’t feel the same. they warned me that moving in so soon was a huge leap and that i was rushing things. but i pushed their concerns aside, convincing myself that it would be fine. after all, niki was just looking out for me. so, i packed up my things, moving into his place. as i settled into our new life together, a strange feeling nagged at the back of my mind, but i ignored it, telling myself it was just the excitement of being in love.

another month passed, and niki’s possessiveness grew stronger with each passing day. he started insisting that i couldn’t see my friends anymore, claiming that they were a bad influence on me. if i wanted to go out, he wouldn’t let me leave without him by my side, always making sure he was there, watching my every move. at first, i thought it was just him being protective, but the constant surveillance and control began to wear on me. i started to feel trapped, suffocated by his need to always be around. regret started to creep in as i remembered my friends’ warnings, and i couldn’t help but wish i had listened to them. but now, i was too deep in the relationship, too tangled in his web of control. i wanted to talk to someone, but i was scared—scared of what niki might do if i did.

chapter 3

one evening, after yet another argument with niki about his possessiveness, i finally snapped. i told him he was being way too controlling, that i couldn’t breathe anymore with him always watching my every move. i tried to explain that i needed space, that i needed my own life outside of him. but as always, niki’s expression darkened, and he just stared at me, silent for a moment before walking out the door with a simple, “i’ll be back soon. i’m getting food for us.” as soon as he left, i quickly grabbed my phone, feeling a wave of desperation wash over me. i needed help, and fast. i texted my friends’ group chat, explaining everything that had been happening and asking them to help me get out of this situation. i even sent them niki’s address, hoping they could come and get me. no sooner had i sent the message, i heard niki’s car pull out of the driveway. i breathed a small sigh of relief, thinking i had some time. little did i know, niki wasn’t really getting food—he used the chip he put in my phone to track my every move. he saw my friends' car pull into the driveway, and without hesitation, he followed them in his own car, a sickening feeling of dread building in my stomach.

as jay drove, my friends quickly noticed a car following closely behind us. they exchanged nervous glances, and jay’s grip tightened on the wheel. he pulled into his driveway, trying to shake niki off, but it was too late. niki parked his car and got out, storming toward us with a look of fury. without a word, jay jumped out of the car, ready to confront him. the two of them squared off, words turning into shoves, and it escalated into a full-on fight. i watched helplessly from the car, heart racing as the sounds of punches and grunts filled the air. the fight was intense, neither of them giving an inch, but in the end, it ended in a standstill. both of them were exhausted, bruised, but neither had emerged victorious. with a final glare, niki retreated to his car and sped off, leaving us in the quiet aftermath. i rushed out of the car and ran to jay, who was standing there, catching his breath. “are you okay?” i asked, my voice trembling. jay gave me a small, reassuring smile, though i could see the tension in his eyes. “i’m fine,” he replied, but i could tell he was more worried about me than about himself.

once we were inside jay’s house, the tension didn’t ease. momo and tzuyu immediately started helping jay with the cuts and bruises, but the weight of what had just happened hung heavily in the air. they exchanged a glance before turning to me, their faces serious. “y/n, it’s time,” momo said softly, her voice filled with concern. “you need to break up with him. he’s not good for you. this isn’t healthy.” tzuyu nodded in agreement, her usual calm demeanor replaced with an intensity i hadn’t seen before. a sense of dread pooled in my stomach. i didn’t want to lose niki, but i knew deep down that this wasn’t the person i had fallen for. i swallowed hard, my heart aching as i pulled out my phone. i couldn’t ignore it any longer. taking a deep breath, i typed the words that felt like they would shatter me: “niki, we’re over.” my fingers shook as i hit send, but as soon as the message was gone, a wave of sadness and relief washed over me. i couldn’t help but wonder if i had just made the biggest mistake of my life.

a few weeks passed, and niki never responded to my breakup message. while i still felt a mix of relief and guilt, i found myself growing closer to jay. we spent more time together, doing everything from late-night talks to spontaneous trips. jay was there for me in ways i hadn’t even realized i needed, and i couldn’t help but appreciate the comfort he brought. momo and tzuyu noticed the change and were happy for us. “you two were always meant to be,” tzuyu said, and momo teased, “finally, after all these years.” their support made me feel at ease, but deep down, i couldn’t shake the feeling that niki’s silence wasn’t the end of it.

little did i know, niki had been planning something far more sinister while he was away. he wasn’t done with me yet. niki was working behind the scenes, finding ways to drive all my friends away, one by one. after all, he still had the chip in my phone that no one knew about, tracking my every move, watching my conversations, and using it to manipulate the situation. it was like he was always lurking in the background, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

chapter 4

after a month of planning and scheming, niki finally set his traps in motion. his first target was momo, who had unwittingly walked into his trap when she returned to her house. niki had been hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

with momo distracted by her daily routine, niki snuck up behind her and knocked her out cold. he then dragged her back to the living room and tied her securely to a chair. a sadistic grin spread across his face as he began to explain why y/n was his. "you see, momo," niki sneered, "y/n was always meant to be mine. and you took that away from me." the air was thick with tension as niki began to torture momo, leaving her writhing in agony. as the sun set over the city, niki finally left momo to die in her own home.

i had been staying at jay’s house for safety, trying to keep my mind off the lingering fear of niki. but the fragile sense of security shattered when the news blared through the tv, announcing the discovery of a body found in a nearby home. my heart stopped as the screen showed momo’s house. the anchor confirmed what i dreaded—it was her. i froze, my chest tightening as tears welled up in my eyes. jay and i exchanged panicked glances before he reached for his phone. "we need to call tzuyu," i whispered, my voice shaky. jay nodded, quickly dialing her number as i sat in silence, my mind racing with fear and disbelief.

tzuyu picked up the call almost immediately, her voice calm but firm as she reassured us, “don’t worry, i have pepper spray and other things to protect myself. i’ll be fine.” her words brought a small sense of relief, but it wasn’t enough to erase the growing dread in my chest. jay and i exchanged uneasy looks, both of us thinking the same thing—if niki was behind this, who would he target next? the thought of losing someone else made my stomach churn, and i clenched my fists, silently wishing this nightmare would end.

a couple of days passed, and tzuyu decided to take a stroll in the woods near her house, hoping the fresh air would help clear her mind from the tragedy of momo. she hummed softly to herself, trying to shake off the unease that lingered. little did she know, niki was right behind her, moving like a shadow. before she could react, he shoved her to the ground, catching her completely off guard. panicked, tzuyu fumbled for her pepper spray and quickly aimed it at him, spraying without hesitation. to her horror, it had no effect—niki was prepared, wearing protective glasses and a ski mask. her mind raced in confusion and fear. how could he have known? what tzuyu didn’t realize was that niki had overheard everything through the chip in my phone, listening in on every word of our conversation.

niki ended tzuyu’s life right then and there, with no hesitation, ensuring there was no escape for her. he left her lifeless body in the woods, arranging it in a way that would ensure it would be found by the authorities. a few days later, the news broke: another body had been discovered. this time, it was tzuyu. the room fell silent as jay and i watched the broadcast in shock. jay turned to me, his expression serious yet soft, and said, “everything will be alright. i’ll protect you, no matter what.” despite his reassurance, a cold fear gripped my heart, knowing niki wasn’t going to stop.

the next day, jay told me he needed to step out and grab some food for me. he reassured me that all the doors and windows were locked, double-checking them before leaving. i gave him a small, nervous smile as he left, trying not to let the fear of being alone consume me. after some time, i decided to take a nap, hoping it would calm my racing thoughts.

unbeknownst to me, niki had been watching, waiting for the perfect moment. he skillfully unlocked the back door with a pick, quietly stepping inside. his dark figure loomed over my sleeping body, a twisted smile forming on his lips. leaning down, he whispered softly, "don't worry, everything will be fine soon." i stirred slightly but didn’t wake—until he pressed a cloth over my mouth. my eyes flew open, locking onto niki’s cold, calculating gaze. i tried to move, to fight back, but the chemicals took hold. my vision blurred, and the world faded to black as i fell unconscious.

niki tied me up and placed me in the backseat of my car before heading back into jay’s house to wait. when jay returned, groceries in hand, he froze at the sight of niki casually sitting on his couch. “what did you do to her?!” jay shouted, dropping the bags in a panic. niki smirked, standing up slowly. “i’m only taking back what’s mine,” he said coldly, pulling out a pocket knife. before jay could react, niki lunged forward and stabbed him. jay gasped as his body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling beneath him, while niki looked on, completely unfazed.

chapter 5 (smut)

i woke up in a daze, my head pounding as i tried to regain my composure. blinking a few times, i looked around and quickly recognized the room i was in—niki’s bedroom. but it wasn’t how i remembered it. the walls were plastered with pictures of my friends, each one crossed out with bold red x’s, and beside them were papers filled with detailed plans of what niki had done to them. my stomach twisted in horror as my eyes shifted to another section of the wall. there, amidst the chaos, were pictures of me—hundreds of them, all jumbled together with a massive heart drawn around them in bright red ink.

i tried to move and was relieved to realize i wasn’t tied down or restrained in any way. my legs were shaky, but i pushed myself to stand, summoning every bit of strength i had. slowly, i staggered toward the bedroom door, my only chance at escape. as i opened it, my heart dropped—niki was standing right there, his 6'1" frame towering over me. my breath hitched as he took a step forward, forcing me to retreat back into the room. his eyes burned with an unsettling intensity as he gestured toward the pictures plastered on the walls. "do you see how much i love you?" he began, his voice low but filled with venom. "i hate seeing what's mine being taken away. i had to do this. you should’ve listened to me before. you should’ve stayed with me. none of this would’ve happened if you just listened." each word dripped with possessiveness, his twisted devotion sending shivers down my spine.

niki backed me up until i stumbled and fell onto the bed again, his movements swift and deliberate. before i could gather myself, he was on top of me, pinning both of my hands above my head with just one arm. i gasped, my body trembling as my heart raced in my chest. "i-i’m sorry, niki... please! don't hurt me!" i begged, the tears streaming down my face, mixing with the panic that gripped my every thought. his expression was cold, but his voice remained eerily calm as he leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "no," he said, his words almost a whisper, "you should’ve listened to me. you wouldn’t be in this position otherwise." his grip tightened, and the fear bubbled up inside me as i realized how much control he had over me.

niki's grip on my wrists tightened, his voice low and almost possessive as he spoke. "i have to punish you. i have to," he muttered, his words barely a whisper against my skin. "i told you those friends won’t protect you the way i do. i have to do this so that you listen to me." my heart raced, and i could barely think straight through the overwhelming fear. "no—niki, please, don’t!" i begged, my voice breaking as i tried to pull away, my chest tight with terror. before i could say anything else, niki cut me off, his mouth suddenly on my neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood. a sharp cry escaped me, and i whimpered in pain as the searing sensation hit, my body tensing in shock. the sharp sting of his teeth left me trembling, unable to escape his grip.

as niki continued to mark me, i couldn't help but whimper in submission, his groans of satisfaction only fueling my desire for him. he then started to undress me, leaving me fully exposed and vulnerable before him. despite the danger and uncertainty of our situation, i couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pleasure at being completely under his control. he undressed himself as well, revealing the hard lines of his body beneath his clothes. the air was thick with tension as he gazed down at me, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity that left me breathless and wanting more.

niki then dipped his finger in me, expertly working their way inside me, his thumb circling my entrance as he slowly pumped in and out. i felt a mix of pleasure and discomfort as he began to stretch me, preparing me for the size that was to come. his eyes never left mine, burning with a smoldering intensity that made my skin prickle with anticipation. "you're so tight," he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine. he continued to work his magic, gradually increasing the pressure until i was gasping for air, my body trembling with need.

niki let go of my arms, hovering over me, his warm breath touching my ear, “i’ll teach you to listen to me.” his eyes locked onto mine, his gaze burning with a fierce dominance as he aligned his massive cock to my trembling entrance. i felt a wave of uncertainty wash over me as i wondered if it would even fit, but niki was undeterred. he slowly began to push forward, the head of his dick breaching my opening and sending sparks of pain through my body. i winced at the initial discomfort, but niki didn't stop, instead continuing to thrust in and out in slow, deliberate strokes. with each passing moment, the pain gave way to a growing sense of fullness and pressure as he stretched me further than i ever thought possible.

he then gripped my hips as he pounded into me with reckless abandon, his thrusts growing more brutal and unforgiving. i begged him to slow down, but niki just laughed, his voice cold and detached. "this is what you get for not listening to me," he repeated, his words dripping with malice. i clung to his back for support, my fingers digging deep into the flesh as i tried to anchor myself against the onslaught of sensations coursing through my body. tears streamed down my face as niki leaned in close, his lips brushing against mine in a cruel kiss. his eyes gleamed with a dark intensity as he whispered the question that sent shivers down my spine: "do you understand what happens if you don't listen to me?"

as i felt myself approaching climax, i whispered to niki that i was close, but he sternly instructed me not to come unless he gave permission. this command only served to heighten my emotional distress, and i broke down into tears as i begged niki to let me release the pent-up tension in my body. however, niki remained unmoved by my pleas, his expression unyielding as he continued to thrust into me with deliberate precision. it wasn't until he spoke again that any sense of hope arose—"listen to me," he growled, "listen to me and maybe...just maybe...i'll reward you."

after what felt like an eternity, niki's relentless pace showed no signs of slowing. i was a quivering mess, my body screaming for release as i struggled to hold back the inevitable. but it seemed that fate had other plans, and with one final thrust, niki's words pierced through the chaos: "you can come." a wave of relief washed over me as i let go of all control and allowed myself to surrender to the orgasm. it was only moments later that niki joined me in his own climax, his groan echoing through the air as he pumped into me with renewed ferocity. and just when i thought it was all over, niki's voice cut through the haze once more: "i'm not done yet.”

i gazed up at niki through tear-stained eyes, my body still reeling from the intensity of our first round. i was spent, exhausted, and overwhelmed by the relentless pace he'd set. but niki seemed to have other plans, his hands moving with a newfound ferocity as he flipped me onto my stomach and positioned himself behind me. my ass hung in the air, exposed and vulnerable as he grasped my hips and plunged into me once more. i moaned softly, my body protesting the sudden invasion even as it responded to his touch. i arched my back in an attempt to escape the overstimulation, but it only seemed to fuel niki's desire for more.

i clung to the bed sheets, my fingers digging deep into the fabric as niki continued to drive himself into me with ruthless precision. his words cut through the haze of pleasure and pain, a cruel reminder of why i was in this position in the first place: "see? if you listen to me, you wouldn't have to be punished." the words were like a spark that ignited another wave of orgasmic intensity within me, and before i could even process what was happening, i came again without warning. my body went limp, exhausted and spent as niki's thrusts slowed to a stop. he chuckled softly, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered something that sent shivers down my spine, “again.”

i felt myself reaching the breaking point, my body screaming for mercy as niki continued to thrust into me with relentless precision. it was like he had a sixth sense, knowing exactly when to push me over the edge and send me tumbling into another abyss of pleasure. and yet, i couldn't help but succumb to his will, my body betraying me once more as i came again not only a few minutes after. the sensation was almost too much to bear, my mind reeling from the sheer intensity of it all. niki's own climax followed shortly after mine, his groan echoing through the air as he pumped into me one final time before collapsing against my back in exhaustion. his breath hot against my skin, i could feel his heart pounding in time with mine as we lay there together in silence.

niki's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as he whispered words of reassurance into my ear: "i'll protect you forever, i promise." the warmth of his body and the gentle pressure of his embrace were like a balm to my exhausted soul. as we lay there together, i felt a sense of safety wash over me, as if nothing could ever harm us again.

as the silence stretched out between us, our breathing synchronized in time with each other's. my eyelids grew heavy, and before i knew it, i was drifting off to sleep. niki followed suit soon after, his soft snores mingling with mine as we both succumbed to the exhaustion that had been building all day.

[callsign-joyride]

Down Bad | Hughie Campbell

Summary: Your first date with Hughie goes way better than expected.

Content warnings: SMUT (MDNI), unprotected p in v, fake marriage, fluff

Lyric: "I might just not get up, I might stay down bad."

Buy me a coffee

There was something so endearing about Hughie Campbell. The two of you had met at a coffee shop. You were running late for work and had to use the bathroom, and the coffee shop was the nearest option. The issue was that you had to buy something in order to get the key to the bathroom, and the line was almost out of the door. You weren’t going to be able to wait that long, and Hughie could see from where he was that you were stressed out. He pretended that he was your husband meeting you there and ordered you a latte before handing you the bathroom key.

“Ugh, thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver,” you said as the two of you walked out of the small building.

“Any time. I’m Hughie, by the way.”

Both of you talked and introduced yourselves on your walk to work, and you almost didn’t want to end the conversation when you got outside of the doors of the building. Hughie could tell, so he asked you for your number and texted you his name. It was like you were consumed simply by the idea of him, as your coworkers started to tease you at lunch about how often you were checking your phone.

You both hated Vought, something that was hard to find in common with anyone in the city these days. He didn’t exactly tell you why he hated Vought, but he mentioned something about a Supe killing someone that he loved. You just hated Vought because you could see right through most of The Seven, but you were too scared to expose anyone because you didn’t want to lose your job or get killed. 

By the end of you workday, you had exchanged countless texts with Hughie and the two of you had planned to see a movie together. There was a new horror movie that both of you were interested in, so he bought the tickets and sent you information about the theater. You changed out of your business casual work clothes into something more laid back and got to the movie theater about fifteen minutes before the movie was scheduled to start. Hughie met you by the ticket booth and gave you your ticket.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be sitting next to the weirdos in our row, so I got you the aisle seat.”

“Thank you, that was very thoughtful,” you said. It kind of surprised you that Hughie was willing to pay for everything, even the draft beer that you had ordered, but you weren’t going to complain. 

You both enjoyed the movie, and you were laughing and chatting about it on the way out of the theater. As you walked back to your car, you could tell that Hughie was nervous about something.

“Hey, do you feel okay to drive? You had a few beers and I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said. You smiled and unlocked your car.

“Yeah, I feel fine. Do you want to meet me at my place?”

“Um, sure, yeah. Send me the address.”

That was the first thing that you did when you started the car. He wasn’t too far behind you, as you were sitting in the driveway on your phone when he tapped on your window. You let out a laugh and got out of the car, leading Hughie to the front door.

“Wow, your place is beautiful. It’s like a witchy cabin in the woods. I love it,” he said as he looked at the woodsy decor and photos of Stevie Nicks on the wall.

“Thanks, it took a while to get it to this point. I bought almost everything secondhand, except for the couch and chairs.”

You showed him around the house and walked him in to your home office. It was slightly amusing when he ran straight for the vinyl records that you had, but you had quite the collection, and your friends always looked at them when they were over. 

“I have some Billy Joel records, by the way. They’re sorted by artist, so you can take your pick. The speakers play it all through the house.”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

You were surprised that he picked one of your Fleetwood Mac vinyls, even though he had the option to play Billy Joel. The surprise quickly wore off as he walked over to you and cupped your cheek with one hand and moved closer to you to kiss you. Things really picked up after that, and you were sitting on your desk with your hand in his pants before you knew it.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” You asked, breathless from the way that Hughie was kissing you. He nodded and closely followed you to your bedroom before closing the door behind him and taking his shirt and shoes off. You were close behind, and it wasn’t long before he was on top of you, grinding his length against your core. 

“Can I take these off?” Hughie asked, gesturing to your jeans.

“Yeah. Actually, let me. They’re skinny jeans, so I don’t know how far you’ll be able to get taking them off by yourself.”

He chuckled and you stood up to take off your jeans and underwear, and he did the same. He was bigger than you thought as you straddled him and started to rub his cock between your wet folds. You leaned forward to kiss him and he pumped his cock before easing it in. Moaning from the pleasure, you said that it slid right in. 

“I know. Fuck it feels so good. Can I-?” He grabbed your hips and started to take control, and all you did was moan about how good everything felt.

“I’m so close, Hughie! Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh, I want you to cum inside of me so bad. Oh my God, it feels so good.”

“Yeah? You want me to cum inside of you?’

You moaned out a “yes” and he asked for you to roll over so that he could be on top. You came at the same time, and he rolled over and grabbed a nearby box of tissues to clean both of you up.

“God, that felt good,” he said after catching his breath.

“I know. Honestly, it’s probably the best sex I’ve had in a while.”

“Honestly, me too,” he said. You chuckled and stretched before cuddling with him for a few minutes. Neither of you had realized how late it was until you reached over and glanced at your phone. With the clock nearing midnight, you decided to let Hughie stay the night. Tomorrow was one of your work from home days, so you didn’t have to kick him out. In fact, you made breakfast together and he stayed until a few minutes before you had to log in for work. 

“I had a really good time, and I’d do this again,” he said as you walked him to his car. 

“Good. How does Friday night sound?”

Taglist:

@idontcare-11

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

[kodared]

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 1/?

Wordcount: 2,057

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★

★ - Also on AO3! - ★

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58879087/chapters/150070549

The cottage you moved into was poorly constructed and had many openings to various rooms because of the peeling wallpaper. It was partially why you chose to reside there after many weeks of venturing the forest once your parents kicked you out. 

You lived with your parents in a tree until they decided it was time for you to make your way in this world. Oh, how you could imagine the looks on their faces if you told them the mess you got yourself into this time. 

Your family chose the safety of trees and burrows rather than living in the walls of creatures that could kill you without so much as a flick of a wrist. 

You wouldn't call yourself one for adventure, quite the opposite. Humans terrified you to your very core. You’ve been a first-hand witness to what they are capable of. When the cottage was in the process of being built you watched many trees torn and splintered by their impossibly large machines. 

You rather despised humans. What you didn't despise however was routine and having access to food much easier than foraging. 

Life in the cottage was relatively peaceful, it was about as peaceful as you could get for being only a few inches tall. You swore your species was doomed to fail if it wasnt for humans influence. 

The scientist who lived in the cottage was paranoid, that much was obvious. Even when you first moved in after being kicked out he stayed up much too late and consumed too much coffee to be considered sane. You brushed it off because, after a few days of scoping out the walls of the cottage, you realized he had a very precise schedule that made borrowing easy. 

He would wake up early, and go to bed late. Usually uttering to himself before going down into his basement to do who knew what. It gave you a lot of time to yourself, and a human with a predictable schedule was hard to come by. Most had kids or animals, both very dangerous to someone like yourself. Fortunately, this human only seemed to have one friend who came around periodically, but they stayed downstairs. 

You had noticed that night you were running low on thread and crackers, and the human was in his basement. Of course, night turned into day much quicker than you predicted. 

The shock and horror of hearing the vending machine door open while you were in the middle of climbing up into his shelf literally by a thread still shuddered through your body even now. 

…So what if you screamed and ran off despite him shouting for you? So what if you have to move homes? It didn't even matter much to you that when you let go of the thread you landed on your foot and wrist wrong. 

The faint memory of his hand reaching for you did rattle you to your core, despite how much you insisted you could escape him even if he did grab you. 

The way his eyes bared into your very soul, the way even his shadow in the early dawn lighting engulfed your entire body. Your shaking hands as you pried the loose wood plank off the wall just as you could feel his body heat emitting from his hand radiating on your back. 

… 

 …You push the memories away lest you give yourself another panic attack. You tried to not let it bother you much, though you would miss the plentiful amounts of jellybeans and other snacks he kept on the shelves. 

No. What bothered you the MOST was the fact every little detail, every little move you made before you ran off into the wall, was now being documented. 

You looked down from the crack in the wall with a grimace. There was a foul taste in your mouth as you saw the human below taking vivid and rigorous notes while sitting at the kitchen table. His pen scratched the page so hard you believed it would rip. 

The red journal he carried with him was the bane of your existence. If any information about you or your species was going to become mainstream, it would doom your life as you knew it. Not to mention shatter any dreams you had of a normal life. 

You weren't in any position to do anything about it yet. The effects of the adrenaline pumping through your veins were slowly ebbing away. Leaving a dull ache in your head and a nasty sprain on your wrist and ankle. 

With a sigh, you pushed off the wall and made the long trek back to your room. Deciding that before leaving, you had to get rid of the page in his journal. He had to leave it unguarded at some point. 

Your room in the walls wasnt much, but you spent a lot of time working on it. You hollowed out a space inbetween a few support beams and insulation and put a few pieces of cloth on the walls. 

The pin cushion you called a bed practically screamed your name as you pushed your makeshift cloth ‘door’ open. You broke off a piece of a cracker you swiped a few days prior and shoveled it into your mouth before collapsing on the bed. 

Getting that journal was your only hope. Ignoring the chalky residue left in your mouth by the dry cracker sleep soon found you. 

… 

That man did not leave his journal for one moment. 

It's been two days since your last encounter with the human. You tried so hard to stay patient in the walls and bide your time until you could get ahold of the cursed page, but your rations were running short. 

So you threw on your satchel and stabbed a needle in your pants just in case he was out. You used to not carry it, but you weren't taking any chances. 

Pressing your hands to your eyes you tried to gather courage as you walked in the dark pathways of the walls. You tried not to think about what would happen if you were caught by the scientist. 

You’ve seen him take creatures like yourself down in his basement, and they never come back up. 

Despite this, you still for whatever reason chose to stay. You wished you never stayed. More than anything you wished you had just found a nice, abandoned burrow like your cousin had, and stayed in the woods. 

In your frustration you kicked a piece of rock, it hit a nearby pipe with a satisfying twang. 

There were more predators in the woods but atleast they would just kill you. There was no telling what the human would do if he caught you. 

Taking a deep breath you consoled yourself, if you played your cards right and stayed out of sight this would turn out like it usually did. 

You would take a few crackers and leave, that's all you had to do. 

As you pressed your hands against the wall and shakily pushed, you felt the loose wood disconnect with a satisfying crack while you poked your head out.

You squinted as the bright light from the kitchen flooded into the wall and onto your face.  

Everything seemed completely normal, which should have relaxed you, but it merely put you more on edge. 

This human wasnt normal. There was no reason everything on the countertop was tidied away. He usually left dishes in the sink, and from where you stood you saw none. 

You where about to slink back into the wall and go out a different time before you heard his voice. 

“...It was bipedal!- have you ever-” 

You were quick to pull yourself back into the wall, your hand slipping on the wood and giving yourself a splinter. You sucked in a breath and held your yelp as you heard footsteps coming closer. 

“I know, you haven't stopped talking about it for three hours..” 

The other human's voice sounded southern, you recognized it as the main resident's friend, or ‘associate’ he sometimes said. 

You could hear them picking up various glasses and cups, if you had to guess the humans were probably making more coffee. Your hypothesis was only confirmed as you heard the cursed machine whirr to a start. 

You finally let out the breath you were holding as you felt the splinter that now lodged itself in your palm. Wincing as you continued to listen. 

“I know, I just wish I was able to capture it! I could put a more accurate sketch, what if its the only one of its kind?” 

Predictable as always. 

“Ford, I'm sure you already went scarin’ the thing half to death. I wouldn't be shocked if it left,” 

Ford. The scientist was named Ford. As you picked at the splinter you internally berated the name, yours wasnt much better but atleast your parents loved you enough to not name you Ford. 

…Maybe you where being a bit mean. 

“I doubt it, more than likely I can catch it again early morning. It seemed shocked I was there, it more than likely has a schedule it keeps to.” 

Or maybe you weren't mean enough. Seriously who did this guy think he was? You had half a mind to march out of the wall and stab his stupid hand.

You didn't bother listening to the rest of their conversation, too preoccupied with picking at the splinter. Trying to pull it out with little to no light proved itself to be difficult. 

You could head back to your room, but the string lights in there had limited battery, and you tried to save it for only special occasions. 

To your relief, the pair left a few minutes later. Only when you heard the vending machine door clunk shut did you press against the wood plank. 

Using the small sliver of light provided you pulled the splinter out with your nails, flicking it away before turning and looking at the counter. 

…He left a dish. 

A dish in front of where he last saw you. A dish full of various snacks, ranging from two jellybeans to crackers and cheese. 

You weren't some domesticated house pet. You scowled at the dish as if it had personally scalded you before walking past it. 

You walked quietly despite there being no reason to. Wishing you had your fish hook and thread to get up on the higher shelf. 

You could manage without it though. You only made it a few months prior so you were skilled enough to find some scraps on the counter usually. 

To your dismay, though he seemed to have done a thorough cleaning, and without your hook you had no way to reach the shelves above to gather your food. 

You pressed on and walked over to the sink, careful to balance on the edge. You looked at the faucet and walked over to the handle. Gently and carefully push it just a smidge before taking out a small thimble you used for water. 

After drinking your fill and putting the thimble away, you turned the water off. 

…Not fully though, he could deal with a leaky faucet for a few hours. 

You where going to go back empty-handed until your stomach growled looking at the crackers he left out. 

Surely taking one wouldn't hurt, if you left a message. 

You picked up one and stuffed it into your bag, contemplating taking a jellybean but deciding against it. Right before you went into the wall you kicked the dish off of the counter. Shattering on the floor with a satisfying clatter. 

Snickering to yourself you slinked off into the walls. You’d check back on the human that night to see if he left his journal on his desk this time. 

… 

A few hours later Ford had finally gotten to a stopping point with his research. Thoughts of the little creature in his walls beckoned at his mind as he rode the elevator up. 

He sent Fiddleford home with a goodnight before practically sprinting into the kitchen, seeing the mess left by the mischievous thing. 

One thing on the counter caught his eye in particular. 

As he picked it up he examined it thoroughly. 

A small splinter of wood, ever so slightly tinged at the edge with red. 

“...Fascinating..” 

---

Thank you for reading!! Ill more than likely be updating this when i can, but be assured Chapter 2 is already being written with plans for three others!

Hope you Enjoyed!! My Askbox is always open if you want to hear me ramble more about borrowers! V●ᴥ●V

[echo-rambles]

use my body against me

summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself. 

There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone. 

-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha 

At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.

The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.

It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy. 

Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months. 

Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse. 

-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?

-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing

-i bet you looked good too. bastard

-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me 

-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your

You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?

The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.

It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse. 

Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.

The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste. 

Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do. 

Well, the only way to begin is by beginning. 

-lol hey good afternoon 

-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me

How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication? 

Yeah, definitely none of that. 

You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter. 

Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses. 

-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…

Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company. 

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text. 

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood. 

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer. 

“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”

“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself. 

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?

Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table. 

Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-” 

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.” 

All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face. 

You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately. 

You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?” 

“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling. 

You think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck you.” 

The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting. 

But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away. 

Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend. 

Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages. 

“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.

Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”

“I know what I said!"

"In your mouth-"

"Thank you!”

Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.

“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.

“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”

One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”

"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.

But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly. 

-I mean, if you’re paying…

-Of course I’ll pay haha 

-then count me in!

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful. 

“Seriously, shut up.” 

“You came here asking for my opinion!” 

“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt. 

See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak. 

You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.

He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz. 

Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady. 

He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it. 

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn. 

You should say something though, right? Right? 

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine. 

This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much. 

“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated. 

“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.” 

That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you. 

You definitely need to talk about this. 

Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this. 

You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks. 

He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"

Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.

"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.

His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."

You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose ~ Part 1

(Kai Parker x Bennett OC fanfiction)

content warnings/tags ~ Dark fiction, CNC, dubcon, yandere, murder, abuse, trauma, smut, stalking, innocence kink, dacryphilia, manipulation. Minors DNI

I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s).

Word count: 1.6k

K.P. Masterlist

Bonnie's life was on the line.. again.

The Other Side was collapsing, time was running out and as the anchor to the crumbling realm, she knew she wouldn't be spared. She stopped at her home and let Rose know. The news absolutely crushed her sister. Rose felt like she just got her back from when she died last summer. Becoming the anchor was her second chance at life but now it was being ripped away. Rose didn't even have time to argue a solution before she squeezed her in a tight hug and said goodbye. She was out the door, dashing off to pull Elena, Damon, and the others back from the Other Side.

Rose watched as the door shut behind her, wiping the wetness from her eyes before charging into Sheila Bennett's in-home study. From her life as a practicing witch and occult studies professor, their late grandmother had shelves full of ancient grimoires, scrolls, texts and items so she ought to have something that could save Bonnie. As the minutes ticked by, the piles of useless books stacked around her grew with her desperation.

"There's nothing here!" she muttered, slamming the heavy grimoire closed. The force rattled the desk and the shelf above it, knocking a scroll down in front of her. Rose blinked away her frustrated tears and lifted the dusty scroll, blowing it with her breath to reveal the Latin handwriting and symbols.

After pulling her friends back to the living world, Bonnie anticipated the approaching light. She glanced back, meeting Elena's solemn gaze. They all gathered behind her, no words left to say as they watched their beloved witch meet the very fate she had saved them from. She knew she couldn't save herself and she accepted that. She only hoped that within the next few moments she would find peace with her grams and father.

The moment she closed her eyes, she felt a jolt of energy lance through her. Something changed. When she opened them, she was amongst the others but Rose stood a few feet away, the wind of the collapsing dimension tossing her brown curls, the white light reflecting off her face.

Horror gripped her when she realized she was no longer linked to the Other Side, Rose was.

She offered Bonnie an apologetic smile as she watched tears bead down her shocked face.

"I love you, Bonnie," she uttered just before the light consumed her completely...

and she was gone.

The brightness subsided as the wind around her settled to a calm hush. Rose could finally open her eyes and found that she was standing in the same place, at the boarder of Mystic Falls but everyone had disappeared.

She dashed around town calling out Bonnie's name, looking for her, their friends or anyone but it was completely deserted. She stopped to catch her breath in the middle of the town square, the usually bustling epicenter was empty. That's when panic set in, worrying that she was actually dead, though this didn't seem like the “peace” described or even hell. For that matter, she didn't feel dead, in fact she felt very much alive something she realized when her stomach growled. “Dead people don't get hungry," she told herself as she walked into the Mystic Grill. Much like everywhere else, the Grill was desolate. She made her way into the kitchen and found it fully stocked with alcohol and food that seemed up to date, so the town couldn't have been abandoned too long ago, she thought. Rose made a quick sandwich and walked toward the bar when her eyes fell upon the bulletin board. She nearly dropped her plate when she read the date on the calendar.

May 9th, 1994.

It didn't take long for him to notice that things were different. After 18 years of complete solitude, he grew accustomed to the consistency of the realm. His strong ability to detect the presence of magic, made it all the more obvious to him when the young Bennett witch touched down in his prison world. He tracked her down to a Virginian town called Mystic Falls where he first saw her in the living room nose deep in a grimoire. He slipped through an unlocked door and watched her silently out of her view. He figured she was looking for anything that would explain where she is or how to escape but she likely wouldn't find anything in those texts. Luckily for her, he planned on revealing everything...

In due time.

Just over a week passed and unbeknownst to her, Kai was watching the entire time. He’d stay up while she slept, curled up with her fuzzy plush lamb she called lamby. Most nights she’d clutch the stuffed toy to her chest and just cry herself to sleep. Like a sad shelter commercial, he enjoyed the pathetic display, though he hated the little white lamb with a passion, fantasizing about how much more she’d cry if she woke up and it’s head was cut off.

He observed everything, from her tendency to talk to herself to the she way she put tension in her lips when she was concentrating on the Latin of her texts. Clearly, she was a beginner and her general naivety would come to his advantage once he finally decided to make his move.

Rose swayed her hips as she rounded the corner, pushing her grocery cart while singing along to ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody' by Whitney on her Walkman. He sat in a fold up lawn chair in the center aisle of the otherwise empty market, munching on a bag of pork rinds and watching with an amused grin, wondering when she would finally notice him. After deciding on a box of Count Chocula, she finally turned from the shelves and their eyes met. Her mouth fell open as she paused the tape and lowered the headphones from her ears. He smiled and gave a slight wave.

“Were you there the whole time?” She blurted breathlessly, taking him in. His face had a pleasant balance of soft and sharp features that made him both cute and intimidating and a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. The dark brunette wore a hooded jacket styled over a graphic tee, denim jeans and worn out converse.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to interrupt. You sounded amazing by the way.”

Her cheeks burned, “t-thank you… umm who are you?”

“Sorry, manners, I’m Kai. Nice to meet you.” He set aside the bag and stood up from the chair. Her eyes followed his ascent until he stood fully, towering over her. “And you are…?”

Her ears got hot. “Oh right! Rose- I’m Rose… excuse me, I haven’t spoken to another person in a while. I promise I’m not normally this awkward…” she sighed and averted her gaze downwards.

Kai shoved his hands in his pockets, “can’t be any worse than me I've been here since the very beginning.”

“You’ve been all alone for 18 years?" she uttered in disbelief.

Kai forced a laugh, “It's not so bad. There’s no traffic, everything’s free and privacy isn’t an issue… now, there is the crippling loneliness but that only creeps in once in a while.” He casually plopped back down on his chair and grabbed his chip bag.

“There’s no way out of here, is there?” She sighed.

"Nope, not unless you happen to be a Bennett witch…” he scoffed as though the thought were incredulous and popped a rind in his mouth.

Her eyes lit up. “Wait, I am! I am a Bennett witch.”

Kai grinned, “well then the odds just got a lot better.”

“So, is Kai short for something?” She asked as they walked back to her place. Kai offered to push the cart for her.

“Malachai,” he replied.

“Malachai,” she practiced softly.

“But I prefer Kai,” he tagged on.

“What about you, Rose is short for what? Rosemary or… Rosalie?”

She giggled. "You’re close, it’s Rosalina but I prefer Rose.”

“Rosalina... that's pretty, much more fitting if you ask me.” The way he said her name made her want to bite her lip but she opted to return his smile instead.

“This is me,” she announced when they came to her house. She led him inside where he was kind enough to help her put away the groceries.

“So, what is this place?” she asked.

“One of many prison worlds created by the Gemini coven. Anyone who opposes them is gifted their own personal hell dimension. I got mine on my 22nd birthday.”

“That’s horrible. Why would they do that to you?”

He sighed, “most of it is coven politics- what you know and who you know, ya’ know? Long story short, my family betrayed me for more power. I don’t really like talking about it.”

Rose understood and decided not to pry. “So, you know how to get us out of here?”

Kai leaned forward on the counter while he explained the Gemini coven always left a back door to their prison worlds and it was called an ascendant. Under the direct light of a solar eclipse a Bennett witch is to use her magic and blood to activate the device and transport them back to the real world. “We’re going to need a locator spell to find the ascendant. Without my magic, I haven’t been able to find it.”

“When is the next eclipse?” Rose asked.

“Time works a little differently here… the month of May repeats itself over and over, starting with the 9th. Every third time May 9th comes around the eclipse happens.”

"The last eclipse just passed a few nights ago… that means we have about three months to wait.”

“On the bright side, we have plenty of time to find the ascendant,” He noted with an optimistic air. It amazed her how he managed to be so hopeful and positive even after being trapped for 18 years. “After all this time, 3 months is nothing,” he murmured.

She thanked him for helping her with her groceries. “Well, I’m going to make stuffed chicken for dinner. You can stay if you want.”

“You just met me and you’re asking me to stay for dinner… I mean, I could be a serial killer,” he finished with a charming smirk.

“You’re too nice to be a serial killer,” she put matter-of-factly while taking out the chicken breasts.

“Ted Bundy was nice,” he retorted.

She smiled at his wit. “Are you staying or not? Because I need to know if I’m making one chicken breast or two.”

Kai relented, “Oh, alright. How can I say no to stuffed chicken?”

[hostess-of-horror]

Count Galak x Victim!Reader Headcanons

💕⚰️🪲A Late Valentine's Day Special!👑🍬💕

Note: Okay, so, this one I just had to do and it is gonna be late by the time I post this, but whatever! I was chatting with my buddy @sneklover earlier ago and she inspired me to make a very self-indulgent Vampire!King Candy post. This is going to be based off of my Turboratu: An Arcade Game of Horror AU and you, my lovely reader, will be His Chosen One...

@sneklover @tiramegtoons/@sliceoflifesalami @starleska @snailstrailz @starryside-1 @depressedasswarlock @crispytubes @pippengin @simpingforcys @blackthewolf17 and anyone else who wants to read this!

Content Includes: Gender Neutral Reader, Slight Suggestiveness but SFW in general (this is a vampire AU, so lots of blood-drinking and hicki- I mean, biting), themes of death, some gore, spoilers for Nosferatu (the films from 1922, 1979, and 2024) and for Wreck-It-Ralph

Fun Facts about this AU:

The name "Galak" is actually the name of a real white chocolate candy bar that was released in the UK and Switzerland! I tried to find a German candy to name Vampire!King Candy after but this was the closest thing to "Count Orlok" I could find.

The victim in this AU is supposed to be an OC named Helena (a.k.a. Ellen Hutter); the reader will not be named after her, however they will be based on her!

The entire plot is essentially the original plot of Nosferatu but with Wreck-It-Ralph characters - honestly, this is nothing more than a silly little crossover for funsies, so if you want to do any fan art or fanfiction based on it, go right ahead!

The whole thing started with this little venn diagram here:

As usual, click on the name/title for a love song!

Count Galak, the Turboratu

You had the premonition since your beloved Felix left for his journey.

For years, you had been haunted by visions of a dark specter, a shadow engulfing all life and light until everything becomes nothing.

Nothing but a desolate land of death where you and that very specter live happily together...

You tried to tell Felix not to go, but such an opportunity was much too important for him not to take it.

It would bring prosperity to you both, yes, but why must he go away so soon?

Nevertheless, you supported him, giving him a token of love for his travels, and watched in abject despair as he left.

But of course, you were not completely alone; Felix's companions, Ralph and Vanellope, were to watch over you while he was away.

He knew of your... melancholy and he would die at the thought of you succumbing into horrible heartache.

You loved him, you really did, and he you.

But even the purest form of love between newlyweds wasn't enough to stave off the nightmares.

Ralph and Vanellope, bless their hearts, they did what they could to cheer you up.

Walks along the Game Central Station, trips to Tapper's, even a race or two, but all in vain.

You could not shake the feeling of doom approaching the Arcade. Some infestation breaking loose.

And sure enough, you were right. And by all that is good, you wished you were wrong.

As the weeks went by, Felix was nowhere to be found, and slowly the world became... sicker.

A plague had taken hold on one of the ships, owned by the prestigious Captain Calhoun, and through this vessel, it laid siege upon the other games.

Cybugs. Carriers of death, consumers of life.

They crawled from the depths of whatever hellish pit they came from and ate their way into everyone's life.

Many fell, leaving helpless souls to be gameless, or worse unplugged.

As this plague began to rise, your darling husband came back.

Felix was beyond frightened - he had seen a monster far more horrible than anything he could ever comprehend.

He was paler, visibly shaken, and upon his neck were two small hole-like wounds that hadn't healed since they were first made.

During his recovery, he warned everyone of this man, this demon, the power he held, and worst of all, he was coming for you!

While Felix, Ralph, Vanellope, and Captain Calhoun, made their plans to fight the source of the plague, you were told to stay put.

From Felix's journey, he had acquired a small book on fearsome creatures of the night, given to him by one of the locals from the game he visited.

"When the sun has set and the moon rises over the sleeping land, from the grave rises the Turboratu - the Prince of Cybugs, Lord of the Night - to drain the coding of his victims. Immortal as he is, the only thing that can end this evil beast is for an uncorrupted game character to offer themselves in willing sacrifice. Thus his hunger shall distract him long enough until Litwik's Arcade opens."

Reading those words was enough to ignite that spark of courage in your heart.

You waited until nighttime, when at that moment you feigned a terrible fainting spell so that Felix could leave you alone as he rushed out to find a doctor.

You knew the Count was living right across from your game, as you've heard from Felix's accounts, and you made sure to gain his attention.

And sure enough, he was watching you from its entrance. Unblinkingly.

There were no words between you two; you didn't need to say anything to him.

You had opened a window of opportunity for him, and the Turboratu gladly accepted the invitation.

As you lie in your bed, dressed in white and surrounded by lilacs, Count Galak's shadow loomed from the curtains into your bedroom.

It reached to grasp its claws onto your bosom, your beating heart, your tender throat, your code.

His power and the indescribable, horrible pleasure it came with overwhelmed you in ways your husband, your darling Fix-It-Felix, could never.

Soon, you were staring into the eyes of your dark specter. You were his affliction. You were his destiny as he was yours.

Count Galak appeared before you in his truest form - a terrifying abomination between himself and the physical attributes of a Cybug.

And in this form did he prey upon you, as gently as he could, and began to drink from your bare neck.

The monster's teeth sunk into your flesh as his talons softly caressed your figure and hair.

For so long, you had to repress your melancholy for the betterment of everyone around you.

You knew deep down it caused a constant sense of burden, even to those you loved so dearly.

But not to him. Not to the Turboratu.

He savored every moment, every pain, every swallow of lifeblood, every lick of his lips was ecstasy.

He had been craving you for a long time.

Soon, your mind began to drown into a numbing sensation as your weakened eyes began to see the glint of dawn's light.

You sigh your last breath.

This was the moment that you, his corpse bride, and he, your dark specter, would die as lovers in your wedding bed.

And the Arcade is finally saved.

[elodieunderglass]

Referring to you "anxieties of the culture" horror tropes post, I just watched the 1990 adaptation of IT and this comes less than a month after watching both Kolchak movies & starting the TV show. What do you think it was about the late-70s/early-80s that led to "the killer is a monster that hibernates for a set number of years before returning to perform the killings again, as a grim echo of the past, and it's up to the heroes to stop it now before it rears its ugly head again"? There's gotta be some "pass-the-buck" crisis that PEAKED in that time period, something that was a long time coming before that and may or may not have continued since. I don't think it's climate change, that wasn't really at Critical Mass yet until the HFC hairspray crisis of the mid-80s. Your thoughts?

(In reference to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/729604545735458816)

Oh that is SO interesting! I also like the Horrors of the Past that Re-Emerge. You get them in fantasy too. To some extent they’re quite nice, because they displace responsibility, allowing the heroes to grapple with something distanced. necromantically resurrected Zombie Nazis will always be a more appealing enemy, for a broad market, than your present-day actual real life QAnon uncle. You can blow up an Ancient Horror as much as you like, can’t you? You don’t need to worry about the tricky present-day political circumstances that birthed the serial killer if it’s actually an ancient time-travelling monster. Monsters are often articulated and described and used because they are “safe” in this way: a displaced thing that can be used. Separate from us in species, appearance, home planet, history of origin, motives, spacetime - the farther they are from us and our shared background, the more justifiable it is to nuke them from orbit, to make a splashy movie.

HOWEVER. As I said in that post - “horror reflects social anxieties” is a SUPER well-described piece of media study and you can read proper writing about that anywhere. I encourage you to seek it out! They say it much better than I do.

I also said in that post that I, myself, don’t watch horror/movies/film. It isn’t due to contempt for the genre, or fear of the content - I just can’t get into it or get immersed, which defeats the point of an immersive genre meant to provoke response. (For example, despite being explicitly told that I would love Stranger Things Season 4 and that I was required to write fic about it for a friend, I gave out at the beginning of season 2; despite being really fond of Welcome to Night Vale at a formative time of my life, I dropped out before StrexCorp. And those are things I generally liked, wanted to consume, and knew I would enjoy! It’s a me problem, and I’m not bothered by it. I am TOO BUSY.)

That’s just to say that I could spitball some thoughts, but I’d be out of my depth.

But here’s an idea. A very small minority of people in the notes took offence to me having meta thoughts about horror when I don’t consume the genre - and worse, saying them out loud, while also openly admitting that I’m out of my depth and would prefer an expert to say it better. “YOU are a COWARD,” they say. “The audacity of commenting on a trend in a genre that you don’t even watch.” “You complain so much but don’t even watch these films” “imagine writing all this with such a bad attitude about horror.” etc.

I think those people have effectively volunteered to write you an essay. They clearly have the horror-consuming chops! Perhaps not the reading comprehension … or analysis skills… but they definitely watch a lot more horror media than I do, so why not give them a crack at it? (This is jokes, don’t bother them.)

Alternatively - there are a lot of clever and savvy people with good takes around here, so they’re welcome to spin out some answers on this post.

[tokyoteddywolf]

CONTENT WARNING: Graphic blood, body horror, violent injuries, internal organs, implied offscreen death, parasitism, one really fucked up Pokémon. You have been warned.

Contains lore and worldbuilding content for The Obsidian Mew AU.

(I did say this was a horror au, yanno. Oh and have some Music to go with this, for flavor :D)

In which I take the Shadow Stone parasitism and ramp it up.

There are five stages to Corruption into a Shadow Pokémon; Early Stage, Middle Stage, Late Stage, "Too Late" Stage, and Crystallized Decomp.

This specimen is in the "Too Late" Stage of possession by Shadow Stones. There is no saving it. There is no purifying it. It's simply too far gone, too badly damaged. In this stage, multiple vital organs and bones have been literally replaced by growing Shadow Stones.

Ones like these know only a neverending hunger, but no matter how much they consume, it's not enough. Anything with Gaia Energy, they'll go after, driving even calm herbivores to violent prey hunting methods. Oh they can last a bit longer with food, but death is inevitable. Without Obsidian to do her job, Pokémon like this Wyrdeer have fallen prey to infection from the Shadow Stones.

And Obsidian has not been doing her job.

Before Anne and Mewtwo were even born, there was a time aptly named "The Era of Darkness". Arceus had to beg Obsidian to return to her duties.

I'll let you guess what happened.

[saintlethanavir]

New fic? NEW FIC! Cullavellan fans/Cullen romancers rejoice, I am here with a new blorbo to kiss the big blonde man! Note: MC uses any and all pronouns/titles!

Rating: M Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Lavellan General Warnings: Depictions of Violence, Eventual NSFW content, Depictions and Descriptions of Mental Illness, Addiction, PTSD, Blood Magic, References to Self Harm Chapter Warnings: Horror, Body Horror, Blood Magic, and Moderate Gore Chapter Summary: Abaddon Lavellan, First to the Clan, has been dispatched to the Conclave at Haven in the cold mountains near the border of Orlais and Ferelden. On the night before the talks are supposed to take place Abaddon encounters a ritual that will drastically change the course of their life forever.

It was much too cold this late at night, but it had to be done. With a slow puff of breath, the elf raises up from their crouched position in the snow – ears twitching every few moments. A  Dalish mage might not be dragged away by Templars – seeing as the Circles were defunct for now – but they would certainly take offence to a slight amount of blood being spilled on a magic circle. The pulse in their hand comes quick and painful as they pull taut a rag around the laceration sliced through their palm. Had to be done, they repeat to themself, shaking out their fingers and glancing around their meagre camp. Just the previous day they had come upon their rations rifled through and their furs dragged halfway out of the previously secured tent flap. Shemlen will do anything when they suspect danger – ironic that if caught, Abaddon would be accused of exactly what they suspect the humans thought they were doing. Blood magic. Not that this was going to topple empires. It would stop nosy little brats from stealing from them however. 

Right as their fingers graze the leather edge of their tent, Abaddon’s ears perk up at the faint noise of a shout – somewhere far off in the darkness. Curiosity pricks at their thoughts and they begin to wonder if a fight has broken out finally between the conclave attendees when an arc of sickly green light practically explodes from a doorway. The doorway to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. There’s another muffled shout following the magical energy and several people begin to poke their heads from their tents, craning their necks towards the sound. For a long beat everything is silent, not even the softly falling snow can be heard, as if the entire world is holding its breath. Perhaps this is a collective nightmare, considering the high concentration of magic here. A dwarf close by shakes out his greying beard and looks over at the slight elf blearily, his small blue eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“I don’t think anyone knows,” Abaddon responds softly, unable to pull their gaze from the emerald sheen colouring the dwarfs' shadow. Something deep within the magic sings to them. It reaches out infinitesimal claws and hooks into their flesh – they are unable to, or do not wish to, pull away. The crunch of snow is drowned out by the lullaby filling their mind and consuming their thoughts, as they alone walk towards the green light. It’s familiar yet a tune they can’t quite put their finger on. Whatever it is, it’s much too sweet and enticing to let go of. No one moves a muscle, helpless while they watch Abaddon make their way towards the Temple doorway and become bathed in that horrid light. 

CONTINUE READING

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 47: Um, It's Kind of a Lot (2)

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Love raw and unfiltered can kill you. Kisame is all too aware. He needs to go back. He needs to fix this before she gets hurt.

Author's Note:

The song again is Um, It's Kind of a Lot by Will Wood.

Content warning for this chapter: discussion of rough sex fantasies veering into sexual assault, though it should be noted it does not actually happen.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh, I'm afraid that you'll change your mind

I'm afraid there's somebody better

I'm afraid of four-letter words, like "love", "for", and "ever"

(Or whatever)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Do you really think that it’d turn out that easily? A love story? A fairy tale? A dream come true?

It isn’t “love” that he makes to her that night. Kisame holds the woman down underneath him, iron grip pinning her by the forearms, raised above her head. Her skin is red, bruised, bleeding, the shape of his jaws branded all over her helpless, naked body. She writhes, she shouts, but her legs stay open; he’s too powerful to refuse. In, and in, and in, so mercilessly, with no regard for the little thing she is, until the blood of her virginity splays underneath where he violated her, staining the pure white bedsheets bright red. A massive paw of this beast moves to grip her throat, encasing it so very easily. She should have never trusted him, not even a bit. Horror consumes her expression. All she can do is watch.

And just then, in the corner of his eye, the beast sees that Itachi is watching, too.

A sharp inhale...and Kisame wakes up. He's jolted straight up from bed and gasps for air, palms hovering over his own throat like he was the one being choked.

Oh...

Ohh no.

In a state of sobering panic, a man in love realizes he is in way over his head.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And I'm afraid you'll notice all my flaws

I'm afraid you already have, obviously

And I'm afraid I'll come on too strong, hold you too tight, and scare you too

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Let’s talk, Takara-hime.”

It feels so wrong, after a fantasy like that, to take her to his bedroom...but it’s the only place they have that is truly private. Maybe that’s a mistake; maybe this needs to be in front of somebody else, for the safety of an innocent, weak woman.

It’s too late by the time he’s led her to his door, turning the knob and letting her in.

He doesn’t quite feel within his body as he watches her walk inside, look about the room where he just envisioned himself unleashing upon her. A smile on her face...a spin in her embroidered skirt as she holds her arms slightly up to take a good, long look at this room, almost imitating a dancer in a music box. She’s been here before, but there’s a real skill in being able to see things anew, search for the novel and wonderful in ordinary things.

Novel, Kisame may be, but he is neither wonderful nor ordinary.

“You should have a seat,” he suggests, lest she get too playful and the whole conversation go awry.

“Oh. Okay.”

And she does, plopping right on the edge of his bed with a big, goofy grin on her face and a kick in her legs. Oh, goddammit...this is going to be so hard. She still sees him in the glow of the honeymoon phase, all sunshine and rainbows and like the most he’ll ever want to do to her is bestow chaste, worshiping kisses. He can’t savor this moment, not when it’s about to break forever by his own hand. He finds the chair in the corner of his room and carries it over, propping it just across the lady he’s confessed his love to. With a sigh, the shark sits down.

“I...went too fast.”

…

Her smile wanes, and her brow curls; the woman remains quiet, giving him space to talk so she may understand.

“I... Shit, princess,” he swears. It’s unbearable how her fingers tangle on top of her lap, how close he and she are right now that he could so easily use one hand to grab her by the jaw and another to force her onto him. It becomes too much.

He watches her own hand raise up, approaching him—

And once again today, a man frightened of himself bolts straight up, hand to his forehead. The distance made is not enough; heart racing, Kisame paces to the corner, hunched over and trying to catch his breath. Fuck. Fuck!

“Sorry,” he apologizes for inexplicable actions. But a proper explanation can’t escape his rupturing chest. “Give me a moment. Sorry—” he exhales.

From where she sits, she watches him, retracting her grasp to instead hold a fist to her heart and frown. “Kisame?” she asks, but nothing happens. The woman exhales through her nose and decides to recenter, prepare herself for whenever he’s ready to come back.

She closes her eyes as she breathes in.

…

And upon opening when she breathes out, suddenly an object in the room is more apparent than before. Naive eyes blink at the thick, bandaged stick. Kisame can sense it immediately.

“TAKARA-HIME, NO!”

But immediately is still too late. A palm is pressed against Samehada out of stupid, trusting curiosity. He’s making his nightmare come true, bringing her so close to the sword. Spikes will emerge, and penetration will cause blood.

…

Except it doesn’t.

“I—oh.” The palm pulls back, and unbelievably...hell, SOMEHOW...she’s just fine. Not even a scratch. Kisame ogles in disbelief, heart racing in his rib cage. The woman draws smaller into herself, shoulders closer to her head and hands hiding into her chest, and she looks to him with terrible guilt. Whatever made him shout like that...he must be upset; the performer is quick to apologize. “I’m sorry. I—”

But he doesn’t answer, mouth gaping disbelief. She is standing right next to Samehada, the consumer of life, the war machine that uses viscera like oil...and she’s fine. She’s just fine...!

Experimentally, Kisame walks up, takes her by the wrist, and presses her palm back onto the weathered bandages that encase his sword.

…

…

A rumble, and the performer gasps— would have pulled away if Kisame wasn’t holding her there. “It...it’s moving…!”

Indeed it is. But more specifically, this is a vibration Kisame refers to as...its purring. That only happens when Samehada is feasting or being scratched.

“...Well, would you look at that…!” he murmurs, still breathless from dashing across the room to save her life. “Samehada...likes you.”

“It...does?”

A bitter chuckle, and he guides her to pet it— gentle, controlled, ready to take her away if needed after all. “Princess, you’d know if it didn’t like you.” She hums, and stars fill her eyes. Maybe it’s all a metaphor for something. If...because the performer is from a world with no chakra, and his sword has nothing to hurt her over— even enjoys her company instead—...maybe… Just maybe...Kisame is the same way. He isn’t so naive...but the idea gives him a sliver of foolish hope.

He waits until she’s had her fill of the object both alive and not before he guides her to sit back down, following suit right after. Lady on the bed, man in the chair, just as they started. A deep, lingering exhale. He’s not getting out of this one easily.

“Takara-hime…” he begins again, leaning forward to rest a palm on his knee, get his head more level with her eyes, lest he look down upon her. “Truth is...important to me. It’s something people don’t give up easily. You know?” She nods, but he’s pretty sure she doesn’t quite get what he means, not in the visceral, excruciating way shinobi do from lived experience. “It’s precious. Like you are. To me.”

...Another exhale from his blue lips, and she can sense he’s reaching some place very, very hard to come out of. She waits.

“I...rushed things.” Months and months of yearning, brushing against one another at most, and yet he managed to rush things. “I need you to know...the truth about me. Before things escalate.”

“Escalate?” she repeats.

“Yeah. You know.”

...Faced with her silence, he can only hope she knows. Maybe Deidara was right to question if she’s ever been with someone before, credulous as she seems to be. But let’s not start there; there’s more serious subjects that’ll get the point across. “I’m not being wishy-washy when I tell you I’m a killer, princess. ...‘Murderer’ may be more apt.”

Kisame waits for her to absorb this fact before moving on to explain.

“I was on a mission...and I was instructed that if my squad were captured...I…”

He tries to take in how she looks at this moment, just before he changes everything forever.

“I kill them.”

Kisame doesn’t need to fill in the blank about what happened next; he can see it on her face, the dawning horror as her eyes go wide and her lips part in a terrible sort of awe. And mercilessly, he is not even done.

“And shortly thereafter...I found out my sensei...he was selling information. So...what was that all for? The secrecy...the protection...why? Why do men pretend to have morals and throw it all away...?" The missing-nin isn’t sure he’s gone into this sort of cathartic detail before, not with anyone besides Itachi. He holds his head in one set of fingers, beginning to feel exhausted from talking alone. “I wanted things to be different. I wanted...revolution.”

Tap...tap, painted nail brings her attention to the cross over his headband.

“I wanted to change this wretched world and get something...better.” And as his hand drops, so does his head; he can’t look her in the eyes anymore, not when he barely has it in him to keep talking. “But it isn’t so easy as that. I joined the Akatsuki with the promise that things can change, and maybe...just maybe...truth exists out there.”

Time to be a big boy, now. Take in a breath so long and deep he feels like he’s sucking in all the evil in the world and expelling it out like his lungs are a purifier. He can soak it in; he can take it, if it means there’s less around for others like her to deal with, how few there may be. A long press of his eyes shut...and they open to see her anew.

…

But she's the exact same person, not nearly as disappointed in him as he thought she would be. He tilts his head, frowning harder as it’s clear there’s empathy staring back at him. Maybe she’s just stupid.

“Don’t you get it, princess?” he pleads. “I shed blood. I do it with discretion, a choice I’m well aware of but with no hesitation. There may be a day where I...have to…—”

Empathy. Unwavering, agonizing empathy is all he gets. Finish the sentence, make her understand:

“Shed. Yours.”

…

…

“And,” she finally speaks, trying to unravel the story that is the swordsman of Kirigakure. “You’re worried about getting attached to me if it comes.”

Just like that the dam finally breaks, the lava bursting out of a volcano, the tidal wave of the sea slamming down to drown those who dare remain on the shore.

“DAMMIT, Takara-hime—! It isn’t JUST that!” Finally, finally, he bares his teeth at her, snarls and shows his rage, the bloodthirsty animal behind his ugly eyes. “I am GOING to kill you! It is inevitable! You’re too nice, and HELPLESS, and you are going to DIE!”

A man aware it’s all over holds his expression in place, letting her get a good, long look at what the truth really means. She does look; and she looks scared. And it justifies Kisame, the vitriol within him finally getting to sink in its teeth. But even so...as the seconds pass...he can’t keep it up, and his face softens into a sad, pathetic grimace, and he has to choke through his words.

“You...need to pick someone else. Someone that isn’t me. To protect you." From him. "I’m going to hurt you, and you’re not going to make it out...not as the same person you are now.”

…

…

“I,” she murmurs, and he can hear her heart breaking. “I thought...you liked me.”

It isn’t hard to bring Kisame to his knees for her, metaphorically speaking. That was his biggest mistake, entering this conversation as if he was more powerful than she is. If anything, she is the one in control...even when she doesn’t mean to be.

“I do. I do like you, Takara-hime.”

…

A gut-wrenching, disgusting silence as Kisame is left to stew in everything he’s said and face the consequences.

“Do you...really not want me?” she whispers.

“I want you, princess. I want you more than you can take.”

“Tell me how.”

“...You’ll hate me. You’ll be frightened of me.”

“But it’ll be the truth.”

…

“I dream about you. I dream about...loving you. And you cry. And you bleed. And I hurt you.” It only happened that way once...but once is enough. In the other dreams, he never got far enough to see the results of his actions, grabbing her and positioning, feeling his heat and hers ready to consummate but not quite yet started. But what else could such temptation lead to? His body is made for damaging and slaughter and nothing else. Certainly nothing as delicate as the lady needs, if one were so much as to ask to make love to her. But then there’s a very important question, one he hasn’t asked himself yet, and so the woman across him does it instead:

“Is that what you want?”

…

What does “want” mean? He wants to rip, bite, destroy. He sees himself doing it; he loves doing it. But...to her? Does he really desire to do it to her, in the real tangible world? Does he want to lay his hands around her neck right now, as she sits so vulnerable a mere grasp away? Does he want to make her receive him without attending to her safety, enjoyment? Does he want her to cry in his ear and be afraid of what he’s done, doing, and will do?

Does he want her to fear him?

…

“No.”

She doesn’t say anything. The performer lets Kisame sit with his thoughts and have to think for himself what to do.

…

“I,” Kisame stammers, left a puddle by her quiet. “Shit.” His defenses are crumbling. Even with everything on the table, she’s still looking at him with trust and adoration. How? How?! It isn’t right; she should know better. How can he make her know better?

There’s one thing left— one thing that is exemplary to the inhuman, selfish creature he is, the thing that wants to take and take and have:

“Takara...I don’t...love like everyone else. I...I lust. I lust and I want.”

“...Yeah?”

Dammit— “I know how it sounds— it sounds normal, but it’s not. Listen.” How does he put it, as terrible as it is? It’s such a big, terrible evil inside of him...and yet...he fails to find the words to describe it so. He’s left with only the minimum definition, something that makes it seem so little, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“I...want more...than just one person.”

…

“Yeah?”

He frowns. That’s it?! No questions, no surprise, no prodding? Shouldn’t that shock her?! Boggle her, disgust her if she DOES understand? “Takara-hime…!” he reiterates, grave as death.

But she is unflinching. In fact, she softens even more.

“Oh, Kisame…” she coos, and it’s like he’s as innocent as a child. “You’re like me.”

And all of a sudden, the swordman feels like he’s going to melt into the floor.

“Can I...hold your hand?”

He couldn’t say no to her if he tried. She takes it. She might as well take all of him. He can’t look at anything else but her face, the kindness...love...she radiates. What is happening…?!

“There’s a word for this...where I’m from,” she explains, and her thumb strokes his knuckles so soothingly. “It’s called...being polyamorous. Or…‘poly’ for short. It means that you can be romantically attracted to more than one person at once. Is...that how you feel?”

“...Yeah,” he says stupidly.

“Then you’re like me. I’m the same way.”

And she smiles at him. This isn’t right. It’s too saccharine, too good to be true.

“It— it isn’t just romantic,” he quickly adds, lest she get too comfortable. “I feel…—” The kiri-nin has to stop dancing around it, so she can finally understand, modesty be damned. “I want to have sex...with…—”

…

She is unchanged. Still smiling, still listening. This doesn’t bother her at all.

“I—”

A tilt of her head and she leans in a bit closer. He’s never felt something like this before; it doesn’t have a name and he doesn’t know what to do.

“That’s just fine,” she tells him, and it’s like a dream come true.

…

Since he’s frozen, and so much has just happened, the woman opts to finally— at least consciously— take control.

“There’s a lot of people just like you and me. My world, this one...plenty of us. People just...don’t want to talk about it. People are afraid of what they don’t understand. But...so long as the people involved try to communicate their wants and boundaries...why is that so bad? As long as everyone consents...who does it hurt? Kisame…”

She moves in closer.

“Can I hug you?”

…

And despite being so afraid before, of his body being close to hers, he says yes. She lifts out of her seat on the mattress and moves into him, and she fits like a puzzle piece with her arms wrapping around his sides.

“You can love...whoever you want. Me, someone else...even no one. A lot of things about you may be evil...but that thing isn’t.”

Tears well in his eyes so fast he can’t stop them from falling. Shaky hands press onto her back, barely even there, afraid to crush her with the might of this feeling unchaining from inside of him. She does all the hugging, and it’s like being held by an angel.

Nothing more is said this conversation, as the woman has wisdom to know he needs time, time to decide and feel what he really wants. As long as the embrace lasts, Kisame marvels— and will marvel the rest of the day— that the terrible thing in him is such an important part of her.

Love.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But I never been afraid to wear my heart on my sleeve

At least to prove I'm weak, and if you cut me, I'll bleed

Oh, could you be the light my X-rays need?

All my life's a Duchovny role

Oh, Gillian, you won't believe this

Spit me out, you don't know where I've been

Hold me at claw's length, baby

I'm not used to fear of losing something I hold dear

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kisame exhales. Since she’s gone, he hasn’t left his bedroom all day; no way he’s going out and looking people in the eye before he catches his tongue, lest the words slip up and he embarrasses himself or her. It’s getting darker outside, he notices as he’s stretched out on his back staring at the ceiling. His head turns right and sees the sun beginning to set. Kisame remembers something his partner said, another time the shark was contemplating his choices.

Itachi…

“No person is property,” the Uchiha assures, unbelievably. “I know we spoke before...about how no one could love the likes of us…"

"But if you feel it, perhaps you should try. Whatever you feel...it is fine. It’s fine so long as it is wanted.”

Itachi...did you know?

A pensive expression on Kisame’s face— pinching brow and frowning mouth— abruptly opens up to wide eyes and popped up eyebrows. In a flash, his face is purple, and he throws his hands over it with the might of every iota of his being flustered to hell and back and then to hell again.

“DAMMIT!”

Kisame has just realized that back at the hot spring...Hidan was telling the truth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh, I love you so much it scares me half to death

I'm not used to this, how did it happen, baby?

I love you so much it scares me half to death

The other half I guess I'm giving to you

Oh, baby

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[justalittlesolarpunk]

hi! i have been experiencing The Horrors lately (just general hopelessness about the state of the world and especially in regards to climate change) and i am just wondering - do you have any advice for incorporating climate action into one’s everyday life? i need to do something about this but the problem feels so big that i feel like i can’t, like i am drowning in it and i need to learn to swim

Hi my love, sorry it took me a while to respond, I’ve been quite tired!

So first off, the Horrors are reasonable, it’s a very sensible human response to the state of things around you and shows you have empathy and that you care. I say this because it’s all too easy to shame yourself for despair, but it’s natural that we fall into it sometimes.

In terms of doing climate action a little every day, there’s so much you can get your teeth into. For starters, there are personal choices, like giving up flying or meat and dairy if you can. Sure, these don’t add up to much, but they can really change how you feel and working with a smaller burden of guilt can be life-changing. Similarly making choices like switching your electricity and heating and getting an electric car (or even better, taking the train, bus, tram, your feet or a bus) can help you get into a more positive mindset as you feel like you are ‘doing your part’. Check if you have any savings or pensions invested in fossil fuels and switch them over. Even buying from zero waste shops can help shift your mood, even if it’s too small to shift the whole economy.

Once you’ve got all these little changes out of the way, it’s time to think systemic. Most places will have a local activist group you can join, which usually only involves a commitment to weekly meetings - can you attend XR, A22, Greenpeace or Friends of The Earth gatherings in your neighbourhood? These will usually allow you to start attending protests and keying into wider campaign networks.

Something else you can do is bring the subject up with people in your life, to contribute to a wider cultural shift where climate conversations are normalised, and you can agitate for changes at your job or university/school that will bring the institution’s emissions down.

Try to consume a more balanced media diet, seeking out what is going right in the world as well as what is going wrong. Sites like Positive News and the Good News Network are helpful for this. Supernova is a purely positive social media app if you’re looking for a more uplifting scrolling experience.

But much more important is to get outside and to make real-life community. If there’s a conservation or gardening volunteer group in your area I’d highly recommend getting involved with it - nothing has helped me as much as getting my hands in the dirt, doing meaningful work to grow food to feed my neighbours. A lot of our climate anxiety stems from fear that we won’t be able to feed ourselves or that natural beauty will vanish, so connecting with crops or landscapes is a great way to soothe some of that. Building relationships with neighbours or affinity groups (such as LGBT, POC or disabled organisations) can help you feel part of a more resilient network of people who can help each other out in a crisis. Plus if you get to plant trees regularly I guarantee that will help you feel like you’re contributing.

Solarpunk content is great for improving your outlook too - whether it’s optimistic sci-fi, utopian cityscapes or anarchist politics, it all uplifts you and reminds you of what’s possible. Check out people’s stories of what they’re doing to make the world a little better to remind yourself you’re not in it alone.

If you can afford to, a regular donation to groups working to reforest, re-wet peatland, re-seed mangroves or combat soil erosion is a pretty tangible way to fight the climate crisis. Be sure to do all the obvious stuff like voting and engaging with other political pathways too.

A fun weekend’s activity could be seedbombing with friends or building a bee house - there’s lots you can do that’s crafty or creative that also helps your local environment, even if it’s just growing food or pollinator friendly plants on your windowsill or letting your lawn rewild itself. Taking an attitude of grateful, affectionate kinship with all the plants and animals around you will aid in building a sense of connection with the ecosystem and reminding you that you’re part of a grand, resilient web of life.

Put together the emergency kit I detail in an earlier post, so you feel prepared for facing extreme weather and taking part in mutual aid. Teach yourself to forage or at the very least recognise the common plants in your area. This counteracts species blindness and makes you more considerate of the non-human.

You could even consider altering your career path, if you’re an adult, and re-training to work in the climate movement, though this will not be accessible for everyone. If you’re a younger person you could look into pursuing an educational path that will allow you to join the green sector.

If you can get some, therapy with an eco-informed professional can be hugely beneficial for channeling your very reasonable feelings of terror into meaningful action that benefits you and the planet, though admittedly there’s only so much individualised therapy can do for such a huge problem - perhaps there’s a support group you can go to?

And finally, make sure you take some time every day, preferably an hour if you can spare it, but certainly at least fifteen minutes, to do something you really love, that brings you genuine joy, and has nothing to do with the climate crisis. You can’t pour from an empty cup and you can’t put out fires if you’re burnt out. Rest, regeneration and self-care are prerequisites for sustainable movement building and you deserve to have moments of unalloyed happiness. You are categorically NOT in this alone, you are part of a huge, ever-growing moment full of people who are working towards the same goal even though most of you will never meet. And so while we need you now more than ever, there’s also enough of us that you can take a few minutes to feel better and it won’t cost us the fight. As an older activist said to me recently, even when we sleep our comrades across the world are waking up ready to face the day’s struggle.

Ultimately, a lot of these are just things that have worked for me, and they won’t all be accessible or appropriate to you. Some of them are more about changing your viewpoint than radically altering the status quo around the climate. But I know I fight better when I feel optimistic and well in myself, so these are my suggestions. I hope some of them help, and I want to commend your strength and bravery in reaching out for advice and connection, because that’s how we keep fighting, and that’s how we win.

The Horrors are real, but so are the Wonders. And one of those Wonders is you.

[stormingfrost]

Wonders of the Invisible World 

Tags: Body horror, major character death, Implied/Referenced child abuse, original characters, pitch/sandy, Katherine/nightlight

summary: 

Through hundreds of years of strange things happening all over the world, finally someone sees. The Bennett family is now at the forefront of every children's tale - except, now, they learn that these tales are not only real, but much, much darker than they first thought.

For @rotg-halloween day twelve: Slither 

Read it on AO3

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 /13

chapter eleven: Slither

under cut

Being stuck between the tick and the tock wasn’t ideal. One grew impatient. One grew hungry. He could see everything that Ombric, his old friend, could see. He knew Ombric was gone. He knew he was stuck. 

He couldn’t affect anything here. He couldn’t feed.

He slithered across the world, seeing time branch into nothingness. Every decision that would ever be made wrapped around him. 

He observed. 

“Maybe we should try again,” North said. 

“We hadn’t been needed,” Tooth replied. Bunny sat across from her, eyeing Sandy and Pitch. They were together, a perfect balance of fear and dreams. Their hands intertwined. 

“Maybe,” Bunny said. “We haven’t tried being Guardians after the boy came back wrong. Now he’s human. Maybe that is a sign that we have to try again.” 

Katherine sat away from the group, separated by choice. 

“Nothing is going to happen or change if we do,” she muttered. North looked down at her. 

“Nightlight is gone. You must accept that. What you did wasn’t good, but we haven’t been very nice lately.” 

Pitch smiled at Katherine. 

“I know. The pep talks are annoying, aren’t they?” He teased. “You can be good! Ha! I am Fear. You are Stories and Nature. None of us are good. We just are.” 

He moved away from them, going forward into the present. He couldn’t sense any dreams here. He was hungry. 

Jack and Mary stood next to the remains of their home. The snow blew down from the trees, making it look like it was snowing. Jack was shivering slightly.

“What happened to Mother?” Jack asked.

“She died of old age. She never wanted to be immortal. She wanted to see you and Father again.” 

Jack hummed. 

“You look like her. Just a bit.” Mary gave Jack a small smile. 

“Life suits you, Jack. What do you want to do with it?” 

Jack sighed, craning his neck up to stare at the stars. They sparkled. The moon was shining. The sky was navy. 

“I’m not sure. I’ve spent so long being dead that I don’t know anything about living. I can only tell you what I wanted before this. I wanted to be a father. That’s all.” 

Mary took Jack’s hands. 

“That won’t be for another decade or so. What do you want now?” 

Jack smirked mischievously. 

“I want to live. To see everything the world has to offer.” 

Mary grinned. 

“You’re talking to the right witch for that. Come on! Ever want to see Transylvania?” Jack laughed as Mary pulled him away, almost like they were just two kids having an adventure near the pond. 

Lermantoff slithered into town, finding the house of the humans who helped defeat them. His hunger was consuming him now, but he could not feed. 

Joyce held her children close to her, cuddling on the couch as a movie played. Vivian sat on the arm of the couch. Andy splayed across the loveseat. 

“That’s a bit unrealistic,” Jamie said. The movie displayed an inaccurate portrayal of the magical world. 

“Yeah,” Andy said. “The zombies are always pretty sad.” 

“This is really anticlimactic when you’ve faced the end of the world,” Joyce said. 

“Great!” Jamie complained. “Movies are ruined for me.” Vivian chuckled. 

“I think we’re just being a bit too judgy.” 

Joyce turned the movie off just before the characters started to fight the zombies. She sent out a blue wolf around the room. It glittered, sending everyone a sense of calm and contentment. Her locket glowed softly. 

Someone knocked on the back door. 

Vivian held out her axe, before dropping it as she realized it was just Mary and Jack. 

“Hey!” Andy opened the door, ushering them in. 

“I fixed your car for you,” Mary said, nodding towards Joyce. “I also made the cops forget they found your car at all.” Joyce smiled. 

“Thank you.” 

“I’ve been dead for centuries. I want to see the world,” Jack said. “You don’t have to take me in. I’ll live with Mary and Shadowbent. I promise I will visit.” 

“You kinda have to,” Vivian said. “Being our great-something uncle and great-something grandma you’re being forced to spend holidays with us.” 

Jack grinned. Mary shook her head. 

“If you all start calling me Grandma I will put a curse you.” 

“I’m frightened,” Andy deadpanned. Jamie giggled.

They walked outside to where Shadowbent and Sorina were waiting. 

“Ready to go?” Mary asked. Jack nodded. 

“We’re not taking your broom?”

“The wolves are faster. Trust me.” 

Sophie and Jamie hugged Jack. 

“Come back, okay?” Jamie asked. Jack smiled.

“I promise.” 

Goodbyes were said, and they were off. 

Lermantoff slithered back to the sea. It was quiet, as the winter season was in full swing. Hunger was in full force. He bit his tail, feasting on his self. 

The hunger never stopped. 

It would repeat over and over again. Life eternal and death everlasting. There was no fighting it. Change could not be stopped. It was just how it was.

[damnfandomproblems]

https://www.tumblr.com/damnfandomproblems/746961727688769536/4728-lmao-the-video-for-cupcakes-fucked-me-up-good?source=share

Oh gosh yknow i though i had actually managed to avoid what you guys are talking about when i was young in the mlp fandom

But i think i might have a vague blurry idea of what you guys are talking about.

The worst stuff i remember is something about twilight becoming a spider and one where rainbow dash eats sugar cubes and mows the lawn (there was worse stuff happening i assure you but i do not wish to talk about it much)

But i think also seen this cupcakes one but my memory is just not letting me remember it but i have an image slightly in my head based on what you said

Watching horror stuff like that as a kid is why i cant handle horror or upsetting content now as an adult. I used to think it was fine but that shit really messed with me in a way i cannot articulate. Gave me anxiety and general bad vibes that was messing with my mental health. I really tried to like it because it was "cool" and really thought i did for a while. Dont expose ten year olds to edgy content. It's worse these days since horror has become so popular among kids these days but its really not good for them. Idc if they say it doesn't affect them, it actually does. Because what they mean by "doesn't affect them" is just not screaming in fear and avoiding it. But consuming this kind of stuff at that age can be a type of self harm and unhealthy coping mechanisms at work and they wont realize it until its too late. They can't comprehend how it can be harmful and therefore don't believe it can be.

I kinda ranted but i actually recently stopped doing a similar kind of self harm (its personal (and embarrassing) so i wont say what it is, but i actually started doing it around the same time as the mlp horror stuff, and had only recently realized that it was also fucking me up) so this kind of thing is fresh in my mind

Posting since this is a response to this ask.

[tiggyyy]

If you make assumptions about a REAL person based on what fictional content they make or consume you are one of the worst types of people!!!

Noticed this has been a problem with analog horror fans lately which I think is quite ironic considering it is HORROR!!! Horror can be anything and it doesn’t need to conform to what you think is too much or not!

Seen this sort of harassment been targeted at Urbanspook for example which sucks, I hope he has been doing okay because this hate has been going too far. I’ve seen a lot of people assume heinous shit about him just because he has a little fictional horror series on the internet. Sad that people can’t separate fiction from reality and purposely seek out content that they don’t like just to harass or hate on someone.

[jigglypuff1994]

The Treaty of Miraculous Nature - Chapter 32 Ultimate Power

Adrien's favorite game was playing War 

Back when life was simple as a young boy

The birthplace of his love to strategize battleplans 

He would pretend to take on evil armies

Call meetings with his generals, captains, and lieutenants to talk about strategy, strength and supplies

He imagined the soldiers had families to fight for, homes, little ones, elder parents, farms and businesses

He would set up his army in rows and speak loudly, encouraging them to follow him into battle and win the war

Not only for glory, for king and for country, but for their country and for their homes

Boldly, he would proclaim victory and cheer for his soldiers

The small, painted wooden soldiers, who fought bravely in the name of their king

Here, in the sweet scents of iris, lavender, hydrangeas and roses of the castle's garden

In the safety and security of his home

He was a king to his people

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Adrien's mind shattered as the blade released and severed his father's head from his body. He watched as the fresh blood poured. The blade sitting between the body and the head. He saw his father's head; his lifeless eyes peering back at him. Gone was the light in them, the look of pride that his father gave him a short few days ago. This image shall haunt him for the rest of his days. 

Agony. Pure unadulterated agony swept over him. Emptiness consumed him as the overwhelming feeling of loss broke through and ripped open his heart. The contents and the abundance of love he carried within now pouring out. Now an empty shell in its place.  

I'm too late. 

I couldn't save you, father.

I failed you.

I'm so sorry. 

His mother's screams pierced his ears as the turmoil from his own family's demise played out. The bustling crowd erupted into applause and chants of victory. As though from his pain, they were satisfied. These men and women around him were traitors to the crown! Traitors to its monarch of France!

These were not his people. They were the enemy. 

Adrien was lost. Once again, he was a scared, little boy hiding away in a darker part of the castle, waiting for his mother to find him and tell him it would be alright. He had nothing to fear. The monsters weren't real, and he was safe. He was a boy playing with wooden soldiers in the gardens.

But he could not turn back time. This was real; he couldn't predict what the other side would do. He had no time to deliberate with his army superiors. He had to use his own, brute strength to fight for his home. To cope with the horror lain before him, he rapidly shut off his fears. Instead, a cool, numbing feeling blessed him; reprieved him from any other emotional turmoil. The weight of the world released from him instantly. Yet he felt it was his duty and desire to right the wrongs.

Adrien couldn't allow himself to feel. If he were to expose himself as being Crown Prince Adrien, he would have suffered the same fate as his father: under the sharp blade of the guillotine. Somewhere, his blood would have been spilt in the name of whatever senseless motivation plagued the minds of the cheering rebels. 

In this moment, he needed to be Chat Noir. His body and magic conveying everything he could not with words and emotions. The animalistic nature took over as the raw sensation of tasting darkness raged within him. Black flames burned all around him. His eyes becoming mostly black like a cat thrilled from hunting for prey. He experienced an outer body perspective as he watched himself turn those around him into nothing but a pile of dust.

He watched himself destroy the people who cheered for the fall of their king. Their monarch. His father. And he enjoyed every second of it. Rather than bathing in his enemies' blood, he decided it was much more satisfying to watch their skin burn and turn crispy like a dying log on a fire that had burned out ages ago. The soot and instant gratification fed his empty heart, renewing it with the lives of those who stole everything from him. 

Chat Noir mindlessly wielded his inky black magic at the crowd, aiming at the rebels. The air swiftly changed from excitement to militant as the black cat wielder made himself known. In front of the gods and everyone in the square, he had declared war. 

-------Continue on Link below-------------