#I consumed too much horror content lately

[ministarfruit]

bad ending

[chobunz]

── jay’s body. ( pjs ) 🔪

๑ A string of gruesome murders have been plaguing your small town with fear, there hasn’t been many leads on who this unnamed killer could be but never in a million years would you suspect that it was someone you were so close to…

pair/genre: popular jock!jay ㅊ nerdy!f!reader, dead dove do not eat, college au, jennifer’s body au | warnings: horror, pwp, angst, smut, humor/dark jokes, set in the late 2000’s, jay is your childhood best friend, yandere/incubus!jay, mentions of depression/anxiety, childhood trauma, graphic descriptions of death and violence, gore, cheating, manipulation tactics, dub-con, virginity loss, d/s dynamics, piv, fingering, oral (m + f. rec), rough s.x, biting, slight knife play, unprotected s.x, breeding kink | words: 18.3k+ (holy shit i’m insane..)

**please heed ALL warnings before reading, i am not responsible for the content you consume !!

[ song inspo: mascara, do you believe, & cherry waves by deftones ]

this is a really long one compared to all of my other fics ! i’m happy with the outcome of this so i hope you all like it !! i poured way too much time and effort into this writing so reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <33 big thank you to the loml @p4ranormaluv for beta-ing my fic, ilysm muahh

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“you should come.” jay’s figure hovered over your desk, his face so unbearably close to yours that one wrong move could lead to both of your lips accidentally colliding. “please y/n? it’ll be fun, i promise !” his former pout returns to guilt trip you even further.

you stood your ground and shook your head, leaning back into the chair for more breathing room. this wasn’t something out of the ordinary for him, jay constantly invaded your personal space, never believing in boundaries when it came to you— and he’d get even more obnoxious by persistently asking to hang outside of classes.

“no jay, i already told you before that i have homework to do..” you remind him yet again for the umpteenth thousand time, as if he didn’t already know that, not bothering to put much thought into considering his dumb little offer.

for the past hour or so he’s been bugging you about going to some dive bar downtown with him. it seems a lot of people were attending since a locally known indie girl band, ‘sweet venom’, is going to be performing there tonight. jay would always rave about their music once he discovered them on myspace, growing quite the infatuation with the lead singer in particular. you really weren’t all that interested in going, you weren’t even a fan, plus you had way more important things to worry about. and besides, concerts weren’t your thing anyway, you’ve always hated large crowds— gives you an inducing amount of anxiety.

“ugh, why’re you so lamee, it’s like you’re allergic to fun..” he whines, dragging out his words which only made him sound even more immature. he’d never miss a beat to poke fun at you for being such a goody two shoes. “we’re not getting any younger y/n, keep going at this rate and you’re bound to end up an old, shriveled up cat lady who’s gonna die a miserable virgin !”

his snarky comments about your dry sex life didn’t phase you as much as they used to, but after a while you do get sick of hearing them all the time. to be frank, you aren’t even sure why you and jay were still such close friends, maybe it’s because of the deep rooted history you two share, dating all the way back to when you were in kindergarten; or simply could be the fact that no matter what, jay refused to never leave your side— ever.

you’ve had one too many disagreements and blown out of proportion arguments with him over the years, yet he’s never held any of those things against you, it’s practically a clean slate the next day. you’ll never understand why he’s so adamant on keeping this friendship alive when you’re just so vastly different from each other. he’s athletic, outgoing, extremely popular amongst his peers— and especially with women, of course.

jay will never admit it out loud, but he’s always enjoyed being the center of attention, not to mention he was blessed with a well above average face that he used to his advantage quite a bit. he’d often came off as pretty arrogant and crude to most people, he honestly had no filter when it came to voicing his own opinions; but that was the allure of him, made his charm even more magnetic to the dozens of girls who’d fawn over him on a daily basis. he acted as though all eyes weren’t on him, yet he secretly relished it. if he wasn’t stroking his own ego, best believe there’d be someone who would.

you glare at him, wishing he’d just shut up already and go bother someone else for a change, but you know that’ll never happen in this lifetime. “i’m actually in a very loving and committed relationship.. so i rebuke that statement, thank you very much !” you quickly fire back, gathering your textbooks and other supplies, shoving them into the compartments of your black messenger bag.

“soo, i’m guessing mark’s dick isn’t really all that satisfying enough for you ? ‘cause you still act hella cranky all the time… must not be that good,” jay couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, deciding to further agitate you. “oh, who am i kidding.. you probably haven’t even let that bastard kiss you yet.”

if you weren’t so mentally drained from the 6 hours you’ve just endured of back to back classes, you’d be beating his ass to a pulp right here and now. “we’re taking things slow !” you defend yourself once more, lifting from the chair as you’re about to head out the door, to which jay follows behind to continue his rampant taunting spree.

“it’s been 6 months y/n, how much more ‘slow’ can you take it ?” a group of girls wave at him as you walked through the corridor, but he ignores it and keeps walking like the pretentious asshole he is. “bet the dude gets blue balls everytime he sees you.”

you stopped dead in your tracks for a second, turning around to face him only to be met with a smug grin settled on his lips. the fact he gets such a kick out of constantly teasing you made it all the more aggravating, but eventually you caved in, as per usual.

“ugh, fine.. what time is it ?” you inquire, watching how he instantly lit up at your question. you knew he would’ve been moping and complaining for the rest of the day if you didn’t go with him. anything to get him to finally shut up..

“it starts at 9 but i’ll pick you up at 8:30 !” jay caged his arm around your waist, pulling you into a half hug. “oh, and make sure to wear something good.” he quickly adds.

“um.. i always wear good clothes ??” a scoff leaves your lips, slightly offended by his critique of your clothing choices.

“really ?” he spoke sarcastically, eyeing the oversized crewneck sweatshirt you wore with cats printed all over, “this isn’t middle school anymore, it wouldn’t kill you to show a little bit of cleavage once in a while.”

you flat out ignore his comments. not even wanting to entertain his bullshit anymore, if anything it would only lead to a petty argument that’ll sour your mood for the whole day. you’ve learned the hard way that sometimes— well most of the time, letting jay say whatever he wants was the best option, which is why he always gets away with it. he’s always been the more domineering one of the friendship, whilst you just sat back and let his menacing behavior go unchecked. you hated that you were such a pushover when it came to him but you’d rather just let it go than have a full blown argument that could potentially lead to him having an irrational outburst.

“i gotta go find mark, i’ll see ya later.” your mind shifts back to thinking about your boyfriend who was most likely waiting for you out in the courtyard.

“ew, whatever bye.” a look of faux disgust bestowed on jay’s features, there was no inherent issue he had with mark— just didn’t really like the guy. he felt as though he was slowly being replaced by him, which is why he latched onto you even more than ever.

once you said your final goodbyes and parted ways, you head down a long flight of stairs to go search for your boyfriend. eventually catching him off in the distance as he’s sat on a bench outside, immediately going up to hug him.

“hey babe,” mark happily greets as you embraced him, embedding a kiss to your cheek, “missed you.”

“hey, sorry i showed up kinda late.. got a little sidetracked on my way to you,” you make up a quick lie as you don’t wanna fully admit that jay was the reason for your semi-tardiness.

“got any plans tonight pretty lady ?” he asks with his arm looped around your shoulder as you sat beside him, he was hoping to spend more time with you since you’ve been so cooped up in the library studying for upcoming exams.

“well… yeah, kinda. i’m going to this concert thingy with jay tonight.” there you go, not even a minute in of seeing your boyfriend you’re already bringing him up. it’s always jay, jay, jay— this was really beginning to irritate him.

“oh..” he sighs, visibly tensing up every time he hears that dreaded name slip from your mouth. he knew this was how it usually went down, whenever he asks to spend time with you somehow jay would always beat him to it. mark truly felt like your so called ‘best friend’ was the main perpetrator of sabotaging this relationship.

“we can still hang out for a bit before that !” you suggest, attempting to try and lighten the atmosphere, but mark still wasn’t too thrilled to hear that you were going to be with jay for the whole night instead of him.

you know that mark never really liked jay, and jay also never really liked mark either. it was an odd, unspoken tension between the two but you couldn’t quite seem to put your finger on how or why it all started. mark was more adjacent to your personality, you’re both bookworms, lovers of all things pertaining to math and science, and you lived in the same honor’s apartment complex, which only housed the smartest students of the whole university. jay however… he was a spitting image of everything you strived not to be. rebellious, put very minimal if at all any effort into his studies, was borderline narcissistic, and easily irritable around others. it was like a ticking time bomb with him, you never knew exactly when he’d go off.

“yeah only for like two hours..” mark sulked in discontent, sinking lower into the seat. “you always do whatever jay tells you to do, it’s like you don’t have a mind of your own sometimes.. feels like you enjoy being with jay more than me..”

“that’s not true !” you fire back, “he’s my best friend.. that’s it. you know you mean the world to me,” you anxiously express, fidgeting with the silver, heart-shaped friendship necklace that you and jay both had since elementary school. “my roommate should be gone, i have the whole place to myself, come !” quickly, you grab his hand to lead the way back to your place.

“agh.. okay, better be lucky that you’re cute..” mark jokingly adds, letting you pull him away to the next destination.

๑ ๑ ๑

“so.. which one is he stalking online again ?” mark asks out of curiosity, comfortably sat on top of your bed, referring to jay’s new obsession with this girl band.

“the lead singer of this band, he said she’s like ‘100% his type’ or something, i dunno.” you said nonchalantly, skimming through your wardrobe in hopes of finding an outfit that jay would approve of, you couldn’t dress too revealing as it would only attract unwanted attention from random creeps, but you also didn’t want to present as too “modest” as you’ll only get teased even more than you already were by your best friend.

“huh.. interesting..” he slightly nods, reaching over to play with one of your stuffed bears that you’ve had since childhood. “i still don’t get why he couldn’t just go with someone else or by himself. he doesn’t need you there..”

you don’t answer, instead you were too preoccupied with trying on various tops, unsatisfied with most until you find a dark purple top that was a bit more form fitting. it showed your midriff just a little bit but it wasn’t too much that it would deem as “slutty”, at least in your humble book of opinions. checking yourself out in the vanity mirror to see how you look, you paired the top with some light wash flared jeans that you bought recently while out at the mall with jay.

you weren’t too keen on buying them at first but he’d convinced you to get them anyway. standing in front of your reflection, you barely recognized yourself. you don’t normally wear these types of styles but according to jay, you have to wear ‘good clothes’ so you kind of felt obligated to. finishing off the look, you took off your glasses, replacing them with contacts that you rarely wore, you’ve always hated that you struggled to put them in but it wasn’t so bad this time around.

“um, do you really have to wear such low rise jeans..? i can see your womb for pete’s sake !” mark sounded reminiscent of an overbearing dad the way he voiced his concerns, it was safe to say that he was definitely not a fan of this new look you were going for.

you playfully brushed him off, “quit being so dramatic, you’re just not used to seeing me like this is all !” you giggle at his overprotective nature, suddenly hearing a loud knock at your door from downstairs, “oh- that must be jay !”

you hummed a soft tune as you make your way down the stairs, swinging the door open to your best friend who’s grinning ear to ear, throwing your arms around his shoulders to embrace him in a hug.

“i see you actually took my advice,” jay says proudly, staring down your whole body as he examines your outfit, “we good to go ?” he asks, looking effortlessly cool in a pair of ripped black jeans and a white graphic tee that he bought from spencer’s.

“yup, i think so !” you nod in content, quickly grabbing your high-top converse that laid on the floor, they were a little beat up and had doodles all over them all because jay got bored one day and decided to scribble on the shoes without your knowledge. it added more character to them you suppose…

“i’d really appreciate if you stopped kidnapping my girlfriend all the time.” mark grumbles in annoyance, heading downstairs to kiss you goodbye. he possessively grabs ahold of your waist to show jay that he wasn’t the only man in your life that you adored— he hated that this has now become an unfriendly competition of who could gain your attention more.

jay scoffs, paying him little to no mind. “it isn’t kidnapping if she’s willingly going on her own accord, right ?” he said in his usual cocky tone, mark was getting more agitated by the second, if this were an animation, steam would’ve definitely been blowing out of his ears right now.

“listen dipshit i’ve had—”

“ok knock it off you two, enough !” you cut your boyfriend off before he could go any further, “you guys really need to stop, seriously..”

jay’s demeanor softens the minute he hears your voice, as if you’ve snapped him out of a trance, “he’s just jelly ‘cause he’s not invited, let’s go.” he links arms with yours whilst heading out the door, faintly hearing the jingle of his car keys clashing together as he swung them around with his free hand.

a part of you feels like you’ve created this whole mess between them, you’ve noticed this mini rivalry ever since you began dating mark. jay has never been one to give newcomers the warmest of welcomes, he’s constantly had this protective and territorial nature towards you, was just how he is. though sometimes, he’d take things a step too far. whenever he feels like you’re slowly drifting apart from him, he does everything in his power to drive a wedge between you and the other existing person. you and jay have always been a tight knit duo— a packaged deal if you will; and he isn’t too fond of other’s being added into the mix, he’d try convincing you that all you needed was each other— no one else ever mattered.

that was until you met your boyfriend mark of course, jay rarely ever conversed with him nor was he ever all that kind to him, but you managed to still work things out regardless of your best friend’s disapproval. in more blunt terms, you don’t think jay would’ve approved of anyone you date, he was harder to please than your own father and that in itself spoke volumes… on the contrary, you wouldn’t have much of an issue if jay were to magically show up with a girlfriend one day, but within these past two decades of knowing him you’ve never seen him date a single soul, he could literally have any girl he wanted, hell, they were practically lining up to even be near him. yet he didn’t bother giving one of them the time of day, he preferred his own solitude; except when he’s around you, that is.

๑ ๑ ๑

you had no idea what to anticipate when arriving to this place, but soon as you and jay walked into the establishment, you were invited with a completely different atmosphere than you expected. the way jay kept talking about this place you’d assume it’d be more of a nightclub ambiance but it was more or less like your average, run-of-the-mill bar where everyone went to watch the sports game on the weekend. sure there were a lot of people here but it just wasn’t the overall kind of vibe you mesh with. from it’s dingy, beer stained walls, to the generic pop music that blared through the speakers, there was a pool table in the corner occupied by a bunch of frat boys you recognized from school. your eyes landed on your past crush heeseung, who you never confessed to but still silently admired from afar to this day. you thought he was way out of your league, plus he was already dating someone else which made you harbor those secrets even deeper.

you sat at an empty booth, flipping open your phone to text mark who’s been asking nonstop if everything’s okay, though you’ve told him multiple times not to worry. there were a few girls who tried talking to jay but he seemed quite unamused by them, his mission was to talk to this band that he was fangirling over, you’ve never seen him this excited over anything.

“come with me,” jay suddenly pulls you out of your seat, making you go towards the front of the stage with him. he was smiling like an idiot, walking up to them confidently as he always did. there were a total of 5 women, all dressed in various types of leather and spikes, black filled their waterlines to look more edgy, their teased hair stayed in place with the shit ton of hairspray they used— pretty much your stereotypical rock band aesthetic. whether it was intentional or not, you didn’t know, but they definitely didn’t seem like the approachable type.

jay makes the first move, introducing himself along with your presence. “hi, i’m jay and this is my best friend y/n, i’m a huge fan of you guys ! i’m surprised you came out all the way here, aren’t you from the city ?” he sounded like such a groupie, you never took him as someone to kiss up to others, but there’s a first time for everything you suppose.

a woman with fluorescent pink hair spoke, you assumed it was the lead singer of the band since she held a microphone in her hand, “nice to meet you, i’m scarlett, but you can call me scar. yeah.. we’re a bit far out but we like to connect with fans all over, gotta start somewhere y’know?” jay nods, looking at her as if she held the key to a world he’s never seen before.

“can i buy you a drink ? the options are pretty slim but there’s these red and blue drinks that i think are kinda good. gotta drink ‘em fast though or else they turn this weird brownish color…” jay asks, hoping to give off the impression he’s older than he actually is.

“sure, thanks.” she replied, winking at him as she prepares to set up for the performance.

“great, i’ll be back right !” he turns around in a flash, tagging you along with him for the journey.

“uh, jay we aren’t over 21 yet..” you remind him, confused as how he was going to even pull this off, but he shuts down your doubtful attitude.

“i think you underestimate just how easily i can get anyone to do anything for me y/n.” he makes his way over to the bar with a confident stride, not even sweating the fact he may or may not be denied.

as jay was busy getting the drinks you overheard the lead singer, scarlett aka scar, talking to the bassist, you couldn’t help but get closer to eavesdrop on their conversation once you heard your best friend’s name being dropped mid convo.

“yeah that guy’s definitely a virgin, he talks big game but i know he doesn’t get girls..” she giggles to them. your brows furrowed in slight confusion and anger, not only was he being overly friendly with them but they were taking his kindness as a sign of weakness.

“hey that’s my friend you’re talking about, bitch !” you intervened, quickly coming to his defense, “whether he is one or not, it’s none of your damn business and he’s sure as hell not going to sleep with some washed up skanks like you.” you couldn’t believe those words even came out your mouth, but when it came to jay, you weren’t just going to sit back and let them talk about him like that.

“what’s going on ?” jay interrupts, coming back with the drinks as he noticed a sudden shift in your behavior.

“they were just talking about you !” you point over to the girls, still fuming with rage, “they said you were a virgin !”

“oh.. i mean does getting sucked off in the locker rooms by half the cheer team count ??” he jokes, snickering to himself when he remembers that moment.

you face palm, “that’s not the point, jay !” you were genuinely getting upset, why would it even matter if he was one or not ? why were they so hung up on knowing that to begin with ?

before you could say anything else or speculate any further, the lights suddenly dimmed, and the band introduces themselves to the crowd that was formed around you. scar went on a whole spiel about how they’re so grateful to be here and saying how they hope to bring more fans with this performance, they were promoting their new single, ‘bloody roses’ which you thought was a pretty corny and cliché title but nonetheless you were only here in support of your friend.

as the band started playing their first song, everyone began head banging to the music, including jay who was more than excited to be here. maybe it was because of the previous encounter you just had with them, but the music wasn’t necessarily hitting for you. it wasn’t the genre per se, you enjoyed bands such as hole, nirvana, and metallica, but they just seemed like complete rip offs of those said bands. it seemed like you were the only one who thought this way considering everyone else was vibing around you— especially jay who was singing along to every lyric word for word. you seriously couldn’t wait for this night to be over with..

not even ten minutes later, you heard a blood curdling scream off in the distance. your body stilled with uncertainty, wondering what could’ve possibly triggered such harrowing emotions, yet that was soon dissolved once you saw the burst of flames invading your vision. a rush of panic kicks in as you finally register what exactly was going on and the only thing on your mind was to get the hell out of here. everyone else had the same idea as you, bodies scrambling left and right, hurriedly trying to find an entry to freedom. you checked to see if jay was following behind you still but he wasn’t, he was gone. and so was the band.

you shouted his name as loud as you could, eyes becoming bleary whilst trying to find the nearest exit, pushing all the other attendees out of the way as the only thing you cared about in this moment was getting to safety and finding jay. you remembered that the bathrooms had a small window so you made a mad dash to the stalls, praying to god that you’d be able to fit through.

surprisingly there was no one else there, grabbing a step stool from the corner to help you climb up and ease your way out. profusely coughing from the smoke that lingered underneath the door, you use all your strength to pry the window open, body running solely off adrenaline. relief washes over you when you’re able to successfully get it to crack just enough to squeeze your body through, gasping for oxygen once you’re finally met with the outside world again.

you looked back and see that the entire bar is now ablaze– with people still inside. you watched as parts of the building collapsed, crumbling to the ground as more people were coming out. you’ve never witnessed anything more horrifying, hearing the cries of others shouting for help as they were locked in with no way out. some were so badly burned that they looked unrecognizable, their scorched skin bubbling from the third degree burns. you couldn’t bear to see such chaos but you couldn’t look away. this sight was going to be engrained into your memory for the rest of your life..

anxiety struck through you when you realize jay was still nowhere to be seen, you still had your cellphone in your pocket which you debated on calling 911, but you assumed they’d already be on the way with paramedics. you were surprised to have even made it out alive, but you hoped to god that jay was also able to escape the inferno. when an arm reaches out to suddenly grab your wrist, your first reaction was to scream loudly. still suffering from the shock of what you just experienced.

“chill the fuck out, it’s just me y/n!” you instantly recognized jay’s voice, turning around to face him. you couldn’t believe it was really him, completely unscathed just like you. you immediately wrap your arms around him, holding him tighter than ever before. you’d be able to rest easy now knowing that you two were perfectly okay.

“i was looking for you, had me worried sick !” your eyes brimmed with tears again, but it was more so tears of happiness. you wouldn’t know what you’d do if you didn’t have your best friend with you anymore.

“i’m sorry… we should’ve stuck together. i didn’t mean to abandon you..” he didn’t sound like his usual self, this time he was more frantic, just as much in shock as you were.

“oh thank god you two are alright !” scar, the singer of that shitty band runs up to the both of you, “you guy’s should come back to my van, it’s safer there.” she proposes, helping you back up on your feet as you were too weak to do so on your own.

you shook your head at that idea. “no way, i’m getting out of here, come on jay!” you grab his hand but he doesn’t follow along.

“actually, i think i’m gonna go with them..” he says, letting go of your hand to head towards the van with the other girls.

“are you crazy ?!” you couldn’t believe he’d choose them over you, even if he was a huge fan, it still didn’t make sense for him to leave with them rather than his own damn best friend. you felt betrayed.

“look i’m in survival mode just as much as you right now, we gotta get going before anything else happens !” scarlett rushes to the driver’s side whilst the others hopped in the back along with jay, who seemed perfectly fine with getting in a vehicle with some random strangers he just met.

you’re steady calling after him but he doesn’t listen nor budge, simply watching as the van speeds off. knowing deep down in your gut that something awful was going to ensue…

๑ ๑ ๑

it’s been two painstakingly long hours and still no call or text from jay. the worry was only building up inside you. what if something bad really did happen ? what if he needed your help and you left him all alone to fend for himself ? the guilt was slowly starting to eat you up, consuming your already troubled mind. but then again, you thought you may be overthinking as you usually do. he was probably having the time of his life, probably even went to some after party with them. the betrayal of him leaving you still lingered in your thoughts. how could he have done this to you ? maybe he really was the selfish jerk that mark always painted him out to be. but maybe you were just as bad for letting him leave like that. you should’ve been more assertive, now you won’t be getting any sleep tonight until you know for sure that jay will be fine.

you decide to call mark, needing to get all of this off your chest before you drove yourself anymore mentally insane than you already are. he picked up on the last ring, assuming that he was most likely asleep by now.

“hello ?” the sound of his sleepy voice gave you a sense of comfort, which is exactly what you needed at this time.

“hey..” you spoke softly, unsure of what to even say right now. you didn’t want to say anything straight away, you had to lean in towards that kind of conversation first.

“how was the concert ?” he asks, yawning as he kept talking.

you paused for a second, knowing that you’ll worry him the minute you finally express what happened hours ago. “there was a fire...”

“what ?!” there was absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for that, now he’s the one in full-blown panic mode.

“yeah..” was all you said in return, still trying to wrap your head around everything. the mental image of all those people still trapped inside, unknowing of their indefinite fate will forever stick with you.

“holy fuck.. you’re okay, right ?!” you could hear his body shifting under the sheets as he fully woke up from hearing this tragic news. he would’ve never been able to forgive himself had you not survived, he’d spend all of eternity blaming himself for it.

“yeah.. i’m fine. there was a stampede, you could hear their bones breaking and people running out the building as they were still on fire.. i don’t even wanna know how many didn’t make it out..” you felt sick to your stomach, you should’ve done more to help but all you thought about was saving yourself, how selfish…

“fuck.. i’m so sorry you had to see that y/n, i’m just really glad that you were able to get out of there…”

“jay left with that band but i told him not to.. he hasn’t spoken to me since then and i’m really worried, we have to go save him !” you couldn’t shake this ominous feeling that something went horribly wrong, you had to trust your instincts on this one.

“who cares about jay ! people died !” mark was baffled by how you were still only thinking about him when the main person you should be worrying about is yourself.

he then proceeded to go on an endless tirade about how horrible of a friend jay is and that he knew he shouldn’t have let you go there with someone as untrustworthy as him. you just “okay” and “alright” your way out of everything he said, but you still had this deep inkling that you were right and you need to be there to rescue him. there was no real proof that he’d be in any danger, but something just seemed so off about that group as a whole..

that’s when you heard the sudden buzz of your doorbell, thinking it may just be your roommate who forgot her key, though it was quite late and you wouldn’t expect her to be coming back around at this time of night. you stilled in your bed, internally debating whether or not you should go down there to investigate; but you ultimately decide to do so anyway.

“shh, wait— mark i think i hear someone at the door...” you tell him as you hesitantly get up, putting on your bunny slippers and slipping on a robe before slowly creaking the door open.

“who is it?” he asks, just as confused as you were.

“i-i don’t know.. that’s what i’m trying to find out..” you whisper, heading into the hallway, producing quiet footsteps as you held onto the railing that lead downstairs.

the air around you felt suffocating, only met with a grim silence whilst putting one foot in front of the other. each step you took became increasingly more cautious, you had no idea why you were such a nervous wreck or why you thought there’d be an imminent threat lurking your way, but the way your heart was thudding rapidly out of your chest made your flight or fight senses fly off the radar.

finally making it to the door, you suck in a bated breath, swallowing the thick lump that sat in the back of your throat. your hands shakily curled around the shiny knob but the minute you open it you’re left feeling even more uneasy as there wasn’t anything nor anyone at your doorstep. just pitch black darkness greeting you, along with the chilling sound of trees rustling through the wind. a heavy, lingering fog accompanied the atmosphere, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine.

you were puzzled, feeling as though someone was playing a sick joke on you. you could’ve sworn you heard it, unless you really were going crazy after all. you knew that you were a little loose around the edges, but there’s no way that you could’ve made that up— it was far too realistic. soon as you were about to brush this whole thing off and chalk it up as just a freak accident, your ears detected faint shuffling, movement coming from a far distance. this time coming from inside the confines of your own home.

…what in the actual fuck is going on right now ?

“i just heard something from the kitchen..” you made sure to keep your voice low, mind and body riddled with the fear of the unknown as you clutched onto the phone harder than ever. you couldn’t see much of anything, but you followed whatever the hell was making all that commotion.

“don’t go near it ? what the fuck, that’s horror movie 101 knowledge. never go to the noise !” mark warns but you don’t take his advice, instead you slowly crept into the living room, remaining vigilant of every move you take.

the noise only grew louder and since you knew that your roommate wasn’t here, this only made your panic heighten, afraid that there may be a possible intruder. carefully stepping into the kitchen without making a sound, your hands scramble to find the switch, turning on the light to reveal the cause of your worry. the noise stopped the minute you were able to see again, and an instant sigh of relief leaves you once you notice it was just a leaky faucet, screwing the handle to shut it back in place. but that relief would soon deem itself short lived when you hear that same cacophony of sounds from earlier, again.

you spun around to see your fridge wide open, and someone actively rummaging through it. your body froze in place, simply unable to move no matter how hard you tried to relax your muscles. it was as if something were controlling you, telling you not to move an inch; like it was protecting you from whatever may be on the other side. scraps of food met the tiled floors, containers and cartons being tossed and thrown in a rampage. as the refrigerator finally came to a close, you were more than shocked to see that it was none other than jay, who’s covered in dried blood from head to toe.

“mark.. i’ll call you back i gotta go..” you muttered quickly to your boyfriend, feeling the need to tend to your friend who’s clearly not in the best of conditions right now.

“what?! no, don’t hang up y/n, please don-” you hang up on him before he could even finish. you were slowly able to regain your strength again, tiptoeing towards the boy who hasn’t even bothered to look up at you yet.

he looked more than unwell, as if he had just survived the most brutal attack of his life. his actions resembled nothing of a human, watching as he mindlessly consumed whatever he could find in his wake. he came across a pack of raw chicken that you’ve yet to open, savagely tearing through it, devouring the meat with his bare hands. you weren’t sure how to react to any of this, but you knew that he was exhibiting anything but normal behavior.

“what are you doing ?!” you finally broke the quietness that filled the room, but you were met with no response in return.

upon hearing your startled voice, he stopped eating and averts his gaze to you. his eyes were soulless, no emotion throughout him whatsoever, looking at you as if he’s never seen you before. instead of getting up he crawls over to you, still refusing to utter a single word. your lips part to speak again but you notice a shift in his odd aura, he began coughing in the most grotesque way possible, as if he were trying to get something to leave out of his body. that’s when he starts to profusely vomit, everywhere. it wasn’t just any normal vomit though, it was a black, spiny fluid, spread all over the tiles and even spilling onto your clothes.

“jay what the hell’s wrong with you ?!” you yell at him but it was no use. he was never going to answer you, it was like he was possessed by some kind of spirit.

he finally got up on his feet, never breaking eye contact with you, his dark pupils pierced through you like the sharp edge of a butcher knife. jay could smell the fear you emitted, it only made him want to gravitate towards you more. the only sane option that ran through your mind was to call the police, taking several steps backward from his presence, but of course he doesn’t let you do that. he only moves faster, pushing you up against the wall with superhuman aggression. he grabs ahold of your wrist tightly, forcing you to drop your phone, a loud thud produced as it made contact with the ground. he remained silent throughout the whole ordeal, flashing you an eerie smile, only a hairs breadth away from meeting your plush lips.

you whimpered in fear, but he keeps shushing you, petting the crown of your head like you were a crying, wounded animal in need. “are you scared?” he whispers into you ear, already knowing the answer to that. he only continues to taunt you, licking a long, slow paced stripe along the base of your neck, coating his saliva onto your soft, shivering skin.

he wouldn’t go any further than that, simply letting go of you and backing away as if he just now was able to acknowledge what he’s done. his breathing grew heavier, unable to even look at you, it felt as though he couldn’t control his own body anymore. before you could do anything, he swiftly heads out of the back door, leaving without a trace.

“jay !” you try to call after him, but to no avail, you were left all alone, traumatized for the second time of the night.

you’ve went through the five stages of grief all in under a minute, unsure of what to even do in this moment. you’re standing here, confused, overwhelmed, and mortified— but now there’s black vomit all over your kitchen floor and on yourself. you weeped again, hopelessly trying to piece together the fragments of what the fuck just happened moments ago.

๑ ๑ ๑

the next day everyone’s talking about the fire at school. many were mourning the losses of their precious loved ones, sobbing uncontrollably from the horrific events that occurred from the night before. you sat in physics class with jay, who acted as if nothing even happened last night, carrying on as he normally did. your professor mr. choi, took a moment to speak about what happened, mentioning the saddening news that took place not even 24 hours ago. what was even more odd was that jay was smirking the entire time, attempting to hold in his laughter as he heard the professor speak, you hit his arm in response of his apathy.

“this isn’t funny..” you scold him for being so insensitive, “people died, jay ! it’s all over the news, we even made it internationally…”

he rolls his eyes, “yeah, so? people die everyday y/n, they’re not special. i’ll give it a week max and i bet you no one will be talking about it anymore.”

how could he even say something like that ? especially knowing that he knew some of the people who passed away, your beloved peers who fought for their lives at the very last seconds of being alive. it was more than insensitive, it was just plain cruel.

“what’s wrong with you ?!” you looked at him as if he’s gone mad, which he quite literally has considering what took place at your apartment last night. you haven’t mentioned it to him yet but you were reluctant on doing so, he’d probably deny everything anyway.

“what’s wrong with you ?? god.. did someone piss in your cereal this morning?” he wasn’t even remotely phased by anything you were saying, if anything, he saw it as one big mockery.

you scoff in response, mumbling something under your breath as you listen to the professor continue on with his speech. you always knew jay was the type to never wear his emotions on his sleeve, but it really rubbed you the wrong way at how he didn’t seem to shed an ounce of care about any of the people who lost their lives so abruptly.

“stop talking to yourself, makes you look even more like a weirdo,” jay quickly comments, he was irritating you the more he kept talking. if you weren’t in this classroom right now, you’d be cursing him out and giving him hell to pay— but you simply kept your mouth shut for the time being. there’s a time and place for certain things..

your melancholy only worsened as the day went by, feeling this heavy, cinder block weight of depression carried on your shoulders. the more you thought of it, the more shitty you felt. anyone would have survivor’s guilt after what you’d gone through, but it only multiplied as it fully settled in, you felt guilty for even doing something as minuscule as breathing. you truly believed that you didn’t deserve to survive, that it should’ve be you in place of someone else… why didn’t you help anyone ?

once class was dismissed, you hurried up out of your seat to go meet up with your boyfriend. jay followed behind you like a lapdog of course, but you didn’t want to speak to him. you debated on confronting him about yesterday, though you decided not to as you weren’t even sure where to begin.. you’d like to think that this was all just some intense fever dream you had but you know it wasn’t.

you physically remember being there, in your kitchen, sobbing to yourself while cleaning up the mess that jay left. you couldn’t go back to sleep after that, not after the way he looked at you like that. vividly picturing the devil’s carved grin plastered on his face, like he was going to rip your heart out of your small body and eat you alive. if you’re being completely honest, you were more fearful of your own life in that moment than you were at the bar.

even if you did tell him what happened, there’s a slim chance he’d take any responsibility for his own actions. his pride would never let him. you remember when you were kids he’d always make you get into so much trouble with him, but the minute you two got caught he’d simply deny everything and pin it all on you. jay was always able to manipulate his way out of just about anything— sociopaths are quite charismatic. you’d often joke with him that he was one, to which he’d never deny or confirm. deep down you’d hope that your own best friend wasn’t, but those old memories gave you all the same reminiscing feelings you felt years ago. or maybe, you were just as demented as he is.. birds of a feather flock together, right ?

๑ ๑ ๑

jay would only become increasingly possessive as time went on. he’s always exhibited quite clingy behaviors but things only snowballed from the night at the bar and onwards. he’d constantly be blowing up your phone, texting you the weirdest, most cryptic shit at 4 in the morning; or if you didn’t respond fast enough for his liking, he’d call you over twenty times until you finally answered, not caring at all if you were with mark. he only made you feel more guilty if you expressed needing space, simply threatening to harm himself or make it seem as if it’d be your fault if something bad were to happen and you didn’t pick up the phone. you don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but he surely hasn’t been acting like himself ever since he interacted with that band.

a month has flown by and you notice jay was starting to look paler than a ghost, the dark circles under his eyes made it seem as though he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months. he looked like death. as if his own flesh was eating him from the inside out. you thought maybe it could be due to stress of some kind, but it wasn’t humanly possible for him to change this drastically. he resembled nothing short of a sickly patient lying on their deathbed, awaiting the grim reaper to come knocking at their doorstep at any minute. he lost a lot of muscle mass as well, turning into a weaker, much more frail version of himself. it truly pained you to see him in such a state, how sunken in his face was, gaunt like a skeleton. an unbearable sight indeed..

“you look like shit..” you tried to say it the nicest way possible but there was no other way to express your concerns, “you okay.. ?”

“gee thanks, and yeah, never been better actually.” jay replied, his tone laced with the utmost sarcasm.

obviously you don’t take his word for it. you know there’s something deeper going on but you didn’t impose any further. you didn’t want him to get upset or agitated with anymore of your prying, so you let it go for now.

the distressing environment around campus only thickens when a brutal murder was reported a few weeks ago. the sight of a decomposing body was found in the middle of the woods, right behind the football field. one of the professors discovered it as they took a walk along the trail— later identified to be soojin, the pretty little captain of the cheer team. her organs were scattered all over the perimeters, painting the greenery with a bold, crimson hue. some parts of her corpse weren’t able to be located, as most of her disemboweled body was eaten by the hungry animals, feasting on her rotting flesh like they just scored a full course meal.

this only caused an uproar of mass hysteria throughout the school, leaving everyone to believe that there may be something even more sinister going on. a vigil was held for her just as there was for the other victims who died in the fire; friends, family, and other town folk gathered around in memory of her. a police investigation was launched shortly after, but there haven’t been many updates on the case so far as no foul play was detected. the authorities simply assumed it to be an animal attack— albeit one of the most gruesome and barbaric attacks they’ve ever seen in their careers.

when you spoke to jay about it one night, you discussed all possible theories you’ve been brainstorming in your head. you believed it very well could’ve been an animal that did it, possibly a wild bear that just enjoys munching on humans for dinner— but he told you that was far from likely. however, you thought maybe he was only saying that just to instill more fear in you, which secretly worked.

you didn’t completely dismiss the possibility of it being some bloodthirsty animal.. she was torn limb from limb with absolutely no sign of weapons being used, so the likeliness of a regular person being able to do something of that caliber with their own bare hands made it almost slim to none. you truly thought her death was one of the saddest ways to go out.. you never spoke to soojin a day in your life but she was pretty popular and fairly well liked amongst everyone, you’d never guess her of all people would end up with a fate like this.

as you trudged through the halls, you bumped into one of your classmates ryujin, who’s been asking nonstop if you could set her up with jay. you’ve known for a while that she’s always had a thing for him and was hoping you could play cupid and be the middle man for her. you’d been putting it off for a while since you highly doubted that he’d reciprocate those same feelings, but being the good sport you are, you end up telling her that you’ll talk to jay, although you couldn’t make any promises.

upon meeting up with jay later on in the day, you proposed the idea to him, but of course, he declined almost straight away saying he wasn’t interested. he referred to her as that ‘weird, stoner goth chick who tries too hard’ and wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole. you definitely expected him to be adverse to your idea, but maybe not to this extent. you just wanted to see your friend happy but of course jay always has to ruin it…

however, not even an hour later, he ends up agreeing to it, as if a switch had flipped in his brain. you thought it was a bit strange how he’d simply gone from one extreme to the next but you didn’t question it as you had no reason to. ultimately, you were just happy for ryujin, at least she’d get to spend some alone time with her crush.

you on the other hand, had a multitude of worries of your own. you and mark were supposed to go see the new twilight movie in theaters, just to get your mind off everything— yet what you felt most anxious about was what’ll occur afterwards. you were planning on losing your virginity tonight, feeling as though you were ready to take the next step with him. well, at least you thought so.. but now you weren’t even feeling sure of that anymore. a part of you felt pressured to just lose it already and since you were dating mark, you may as well do it, right ? if only it were that simple..

๑ ๑ ๑

your nerves were at an all time high as you laid beneath his bare form. inhaling, exhaling, and repeating those same steps over and over. your mind was racing a million miles per minute, staring up at the ceiling as you rethink all of your life decisions.

everything seemed fine at first, until it wasn’t..

you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it, but all you knew was that this felt strange.. something doesn’t feel right.. all you could do was lay there, utterly detached from reality.

numbness.. that’s all you felt..

you wanted to crawl into your own skin and die, you shouldn’t be so repulsed by your own boyfriend being on top of you— but that was the only emotion you bore.

everything felt so foreign to you, his touch, the way he caressed you, it didn’t feel right. you couldn’t shake this odd sensation, it was something you didn’t want for yourself. you wanted to puke, absolutely sick to your stomach.

he kissed your neck, but you don’t feel a thing. completely stoic and emotionless. all you’re thinking about right now is jay. you had this inclination that something went terribly wrong and you needed an escape.

“i-i can’t do this.. i’m sorry..” you finally say out loud, quickly pushing him off of you before anything else could continue.

“did i do something wrong ?” mark asks, confused by your sudden coldness.

you simply don’t answer, scrambling to put on your clothes and leaving his house in a hurry to go and run to your car. you began driving in the direction of jay’s dorm, not knowing whether he’d be there or not. the limited amount of streetlights made it even more difficult to see, but you spot a shadowy figure heading towards you on the main road.

in a rush of panic you slammed onto the brakes hard, trying not to run over whatever’s coming towards the vehicle, thinking it was probably a deer or something—but you see that it’s jay, his clothes stained in blood just like night he was in your kitchen. you immediately got out of the car to go help him but he was no longer there anymore, as if he’s vanished into thin air.

confusion doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.. reluctantly heading back home, hoping that it was all some vivid hallucination that you were having— but the minute you went upstairs into your room, you see jay sitting on your bed, not a single drop of blood detected anywhere on him anymore.

“what are you doing here ?” you ask, blankly staring down at him over the rim of your glasses.

“just wanted to drop by and see my favorite girl.” he smiles crookedly, looking much healthier than he did when you saw him earlier, “what’s wrong with that, hm?”

“why’re you in my bed ? just go back to your dorm jay.” you didn’t have time for his little games right now, you just wanted to shut the whole world out.

“but i wanna stay… plus we always used to sleep together when we had sleep overs.” he pouts, proceeding to get even more comfortable as he had no plans on leaving anytime soon.

“is that my grateful dead t-shirt?” you get a bit closer to examine, growing irritated that he went through your stuff without even asking.

he doesn’t respond, at least not in the way you think he would. instead, jay harshly pressed his lips against yours. stretching the neckline of your shirt to pull all your weight on top of his. he managed to have some self control at first, but that didn’t last too long as he savored the taste of you. hesitantly, you kissed him back, whimpering at the feel of his tongue prodding at your lips, begging for entry. your mouth slightly parts, giving him just enough leeway for him to devour you in the sloppiest, most depraved way possible. he kissed you hard, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. nothing but raw passion and burning desire throughout.

his lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, tangling your hands into his messy, raven locks. jay would only grow more unhinged, never letting you gasp for air for more than half a second. he explored the depths of you, every nook and cranny, like he wanted you down to the marrow, swallowing you whole. he felt this primal urge in wanting to bite you, to sign your death with his teeth— but he resisted, at least not yet anyway.

when his hands came up to find your hips, his touch felt scorching hot against your skin… lifting your skirt up inch by inch. then the realization of what you’re doing finally hits, that you have a goddamn boyfriend and this isn’t something you should ever be doing with your best friend. quickly getting off of him, shouting in protest.

“jay, what the fuck ?!” you were horrified, not even wanting to look at him anymore.

“language y/n !” he giggles at your filthy vocabulary, licking his lips to capture your taste once more, “don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it either.”

“but i’ll admit, the reason i’m here exactly is.. i have a confession to make..” he takes a dramatic pause before continuing, “i haven’t been completely honest with you, and you’re the only one i can trust.”

you look at him strangely, unsure of what he fully meant by that, “what is it..”

“i’m dead.”

now you’re staring at him as if he just said the most absurd shit you ever heard, which quite literally it was.

“huh ? what do you mean you’re dead?”

“what do you not understand y/n, it’s pretty self explanatory.” he casually says if he were simply talking about the weather.

“i’m not sure i follow..” you didn’t get where he was heading with any of this, hoping that it’s just some joke with a bad punchline.

“it means i’m dead— as in not alive.” he repeats nonchalantly.

“jay, shut up. you’re not funny.” crossing your arms in annoyance, growing more impatient with him by the second.

“it’s true, i swear !”

“you’re ridiculous..” you’ve had enough of his little shenanigans, ready to walk away from him but he grabs you at the last minute, forcibly bringing you back to meet his gaze.

“just listen, it’ll all make sense soon,” he pleads, flashing you a sweet, puppy eyed look that could make anyone fold almost instantly.

“‘kay.. fine whatever.” you heave a sigh, sitting back down on your bed, still a bit reluctant on hearing him out.

“there’s something inside me… an evil entity,” he explains further, “ever since that night at the bar my body feels.. different.” he proceeds to tell you this dumb story that you weren’t buying for a second.

“c’mon, you really expect to believe tha-”

he cuts you off, proceeding to go on a whole tangent, “remember that band i told you about ? they drove me out to the creek, dragged me out of the van and offered me as a virgin sacrifice in exchange for fame and fortune. they kept telling me how hard it was to make it as an indie band so this was the only option they had left.. all i can remember afterwards was how much pain i was in… they each took turns stabbing me to death, singing some creepy chant as they did it, then they lit me on fire.. but the problem is that i’m not a virgin, so when scar and her little gang murdered me the ritual backfired and a demonic spirit took over my body. i was able to escape the forest but i left feeling so hungry.. so on my way back home, i saw some girl on the opposite side of the pavement, she looked quite edible so i ate her. and that’s how i started eating human flesh.”

you had no words. your only reaction was to blink rapidly at everything he just told you. there’s no way he could be telling you the truth, stuff like that only happens in movies, pure fiction. “that’s the craziest fucking story you’ve ever made up in your entire life jay.”

he seemingly grows frustrated at the fact you aren’t taking his words seriously, but he kept on talking anyway. “i’m being serious y/n, you’ve gotta believe me ! they’re basically agents of satan, they simply used me as a pawn. i was their gateway to the lifestyle they so desperately wanted to achieve..”

“so what you’re saying is that you’ve been reincarnated as a demonic spirit that feeds off of human flesh ? that’s what you’re trying to get at ??” you ask, confirming his very weird, but oddly specific narrative.

jay nods, “yes, that’s precisely what i’m trying to say.”

“so.. you’re telling me you’re the one who killed soojin ?” you question outrightly, hoping at the very least he had nothing to do with it, but if what he is saying was true that could very well be a possibility.

he nods again, “yep. and ryujin.”

your blood ran cold the minute upon hearing that, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, “wait- what ?!”

“yeah, i only agreed to meet up with her just to eat her. so it’s practically your fault that she’s dead.” he shrugs, seeing it as if it was no big deal.

you couldn’t comprehend a single thing your ears were hearing right now.. your own classmate was dead and gone because of your best friend.

“you’re a fucking monster.. she had a whole life ahead of her. hopes and dreams just like the rest of us..”

“well, now she’s food for worms, sucks to suck,” jay shrugs again, speaking so nonchalant about everything it made you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

disgusted didn’t even amount up to what you felt, sitting there in silence trying to process all of this.

“anyway, wanna see something cool?” he asks, not even bothering to await your response as you gave him the most questionable look of all mankind.

“i can withstand any injury without pain and i’m difficult to kill, see.” he takes one of your gel pens from your nightstand and stabs it straight into his own wrist, he was bleeding heavily at first but then the wounds start to close up within a few seconds, eventually fading away as if he didn’t just stab himself at all.

“see ! how cool is that ?? like some x-men type shit,” he says like a giddy school kid, bragging over his new abilities. “when i’m full, i’m practically invincible. i’m a fucking god.”

again, you were too stunned to speak. you genuinely thought you were losing your mind at this point, there’s no way any of this is real. it’s all a bad dream. you just need to pinch yourself and you’ll wake up, right ..?

“oh by the way, that night i snuck into your place, i was having all sorts of thoughts.. even thought about hurting you but i could never do that..” he finally admits to the night when he went into your kitchen, “i was just so hungry but nothing would satisfy my craving..” his eyes were a window to the truth, and by the looks of how empty they were, it was safe to assume you still had every right to frightened.

“jay, i- i really think you should leave…” your whole body was practically shaking, you couldn’t bear to look but you were far more terrified of looking away— falling apart at the seams.

he doesn’t even budge a little upon hearing you, “oh c’monn y/n, let me stay the night; we can play boyfriend and girlfriend like we used to… good times am i right ?” he strokes your hand with his, not even fully understanding the gravity of what he’s done or said this whole time.

“jay you’re freaking me the fuck out !” you raise your voice louder, removing yourself away from his touch. how could you let a literal murderer touch you ?

“there’s no need for you to be. i already told you that i’m not gonna hurt you.. at least not in that way..” jay clung onto you again, this time dragging you back down onto the bed as he forced himself on top of you.

you scrunch your eyes shut at the feel of his hands on you, idle fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. a surge of heat flushes down your thighs, blood rushing to your cheeks... and to your core. god, you were so embarrassed right now.

“w-what are you doing …?” you breathe out, opening your eyes once again, only to see him staring straight into your soul.

“don’t get all shy on me now.. we’re just havin’ a bit of fun,” he answers, “just messing around like the old days, right ?” he slid his index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimeters away from yours.

“jay no, please-” you begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.

“shh, it’s okay, i’ll take the lead. we can go slow… i promise i won’t bite. unless you want me to.” he darkly chuckles, tilting his head to the side, pressing a light kiss to your lips. surprisingly, you reciprocate it. he pulls his hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting too much pressure around it just yet. “see, i knew you’d be into it, you’re my little freak, aren’t you ?”

you hated that you were getting aroused from this, the way he spoke to you in that husky tone. that same bubbling heat rushing to your core again.. you wanted to fight it, you truly did, but you couldn’t. your mind was telling you one thing but your body was reacting differently, as if you were under some spell that he casted.

you don’t know what to answer to that. is there even anything you can even say back to him ? you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. and besides, what’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and your mattress, his fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face, would you really be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this ? he practically knows you better than your own self at times, of course he’d be able to tell…

he kisses you again, but this time much hungrier, his tongue dominating yours easily. he nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your soft flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath— apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth.

he grazes the bump of your pussy covered by your lace panties with his fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. you wanted to close your legs shut, but when he slowly rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a desperate whine escapes your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. the moment only brief until he dips his hand into your underwear.

you try to make him stop by grabbing ahold of his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that only makes him chuckle in response.

“mm.. already begging for me, sweetheart ?” he softly laughs, smirking at you. “excited by the idea of my fingers in your little cunt instead of your boyfriend’s ? hm ?”

you frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this... your thoughts are going into a completely different direction. what the hell’s wrong with you ?

“you wanna know how it feels, baby? what it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” his dirty talk only continues, you couldn’t fathom this was really jay speaking to you in such a vulgar manner like this. your best friend who’s about to take your virginity whether you wanted it to happen or not, he was going to make sure that mark could never have you in such a way, wanted to ruin it for everyone else like he always does.

he’s not waiting for a response as he starts stroking your bundle of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. you let out another whine, this time of genuine pleasure.

jay then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for too long as he pushes a finger into you without warning. you bit down on your bottom lip harshly— the size of his fingers in no comparison to yours. your eyes swelled with water, faint little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit.

“i know, i know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” you nod your head, confirming his words. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise. you’re probably only used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

when he says this, you have a hard time believing him. how could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this— when it’s not what you wanted..

he begins moving his fingers in and out of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. he’d curls his fingers every so often, making a little hook shape, patting your sweet spot. the intrusion was uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace.

tears continued to flow, falling down to your cheeks, lashes all wet and sticky, but they weren’t the result of your pain…

“god.. look at you. so pretty when you cry,” jay murmurs beside your ear, butterflies swirling in your stomach when he tells you this.

he unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his shoulder. you now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g spot. you dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. this makes you breathless, head rolling back onto your pillows, having never experienced anything like this before.

“o-oh my god-!” you exclaim when jay’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. your legs couldn’t stop twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

you’d probably be more aware of how hard he was if it weren’t trapped in his loosely fitting jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than jay fingering you, hitting your sensitive spots each time he thrusts in.

“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, moving faster. “you feel it ? huh?” he asks and you’re able to croak out a weak ‘yes’. “tell me how it feels.”

you hate his questions— you hate them so damn much. he knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.

“g-good.”

“yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans and whimpers you let out.

“yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and slowly nodding your head. “fuck !” you curse out when you finally reach your high, nails digging into his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body violently shaking.

jay helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy dewy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all while said in the sweetest tone, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet.

“good girl,” he praises, “see, i told you it’d feel great.”

he still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. it’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but jay retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.

he could simply stop there, but he won’t— not until he fully got what he wanted, he needs more…

he pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening with your arousal. “open wide for me, baby,” he instructs.

you glance at his hand, a little repulsed. you’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for him.

you then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in.

“suck,” he adds on, expecting you to blindly follow all of his orders, and you do so without a second thought.

he stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. the taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… it doesn’t taste like much of anything, in fact.

he removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “just as sweet as you are,” he grins. “stand up for me, wan’ you to suck me off.”

your wobbly legs do their best at balancing themselves, slowly getting up only to be told to get back down on your knees. you sink down to the ground, leaning over to eye his stiff erection through his pants, slowly rubbing your hand over it as you palm him in your grasp. he hisses at the feel, already loving how you obediently take orders, how you’ve become nothing but a mindless slut for him.

you didn’t know the first thing you were doing but you did what felt natural, so you free his cock from the confines of his pants and underwear, watching as it sprung out and slapped against his stomach. jay was huge. his veiny, pink dick standing tall in front of you, gulping as you debate on how you’re going to take all of him in your tiny mouth.

his length throbbed in your small hand, tip already leaking out a pearly bead of precum, dribbling onto your fingers. you slowly press your mouth against the tip, keeping it there for a bit to get a little taste of him and to get used to the feel. then you swirled your tongue lightly around it, loving the salty tanginess of his precum against your tongue.

“fuck… feel so good around me already,” he bit his lip harshly, gripping the sheets as he groans with pleasure.

you wrap your mouth tighter around his length as you begin to slide your head down. bobbing it back and forth, keeping a tight suction on his cock, making sure not to use any teeth. you feel jay’s hips jolt up from the feel as you drew more saliva from your mouth, making a mess all over yourself.

he let out a low moan when his length hits the back of your throat, accidentally gagging at how much you took. you couldn’t take all of him in your mouth completely, but you did the best with what you could, bobbing your head as your hand stroked the rest. the way you looked while taking him made him want to bust at the very sight, nothing could compare to having your mouth around him.

“atta girl, keep going— just like that baby— ahh….” he keeps encouraging you, giving you small praises here and there. he does his best not to keep his eyes off you but he wanted to shut his eyes from how good you were making him feel, you were such a natural at this. as you continued stroking his cock with your pretty, talented mouth, he elicits more moans and it only makes you want to make him cum faster.

jay bit his lip even harder, trying so hard not to close his eyes, taking in shallow breaths. he could feel himself getting closer and his whole body tenses up like he’s got a volcano erupting inside him.

“shit— think ‘m gonna come… damn baby…”

you couldn’t say anything since his cock was buried deep down your throat. the only thing on your mind right now was getting him to finish inside your mouth. you lightly hum as you pick up your pace, he matches your movements with his hips, fucking your mouth aggressively. there was saliva everywhere, your face was flushed and you seriously looked such a mess. a beautiful mess, all for jay.

you feel his thickness throbbing in your mouth and a warm sensation hits the back of your throat. white ropes of his cum releases into you and you swallow it immediately, to which you earn yourself a “good girl” as you look up at him, drinking up all his cum. surprisingly, he tasted pretty good, emptying every last drop of him, once you finally pulled away he orders for you to get back on the bed and to bend over for him. you only hesitated for a second, looking at him credulously before doing what he asked of you, trembling legs meeting with the soft sheets again.

“are you…?” you say under your breath, peering over your shoulder to see jay stroking himself, looking at your glistening pussy that’s spread on perfect display for him.

“gonna put my cock inside you ?” he finishes your question for you. “yeah, i am.”

you stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. he pumps himself a couple more times before aligning his head with your dripping wet entrance. his free hand keeping your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.

“careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” he swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing throughout the room.

you can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. the burning sensation of your cunt getting stretched out was enough to make you see stars, and he was right. this hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings were not comparable at all.

“jay-,” you cry out, holding onto the sheets below you for dear life until there’s no more blood circulating in your knuckles.

he hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. when he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.

you bit onto your lip, compressing a moan that dared to slip from your mouth again. he deliberately pounded into you, like he wanted everyone near to know just how badly he was ruining you, wanting you to beg and cry out for mercy, like he wanted every bone in your body to bend and break.

you involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. he thrusts himself deeper into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at an agonizingly harsh pace. each time he bottoms out, jay makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.

your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restriction. it’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.

you don’t know how long you can stay in this position for, especially when jay’s drilling his hard cock into you like nothing else matters. it’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.

you’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath fanning against your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. you can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your gummy walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him right in.

“shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis.

he kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. he leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. as he thrusts into you, his balls smack your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. jay lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face.

your mouth gaped to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. he didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough. making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you to death or eating you— or both. jay doesn’t care, he just wants it. it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. jay feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“please.. jay, so good..”

“gonna come in this tight little virgin pussy.” he captured your waist pulling you closer into him. “wanna put a baby in you, bet you’d like that, huh ?”

“holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until strings of white paints your insides. “oh, god…”

he stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. he then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you.

but he wasn’t done just yet, he wanted you to be completely, utterly, and thoroughly ruined by all parts of him. his fingers, his cock, and now his tongue.

“just need another taste..” jay couldn’t get enough of you, practically blinded by lust, all he wants is to have you, only you, no one else was more perfect than you.

he bends down, toying with your clit and licking your opening until you turned into a yelping mess underneath his tongue, tugging onto the sheets, pillows, whatever you could grasp, feeling like you were about to die. he had a strong grip on your thighs, kept you in place while you came on his tongue like you were made for it, so pretty and ashamed that he’s lost all self-restraint, if ever had any to begin with.

he continued to lap at your cunt, kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. hands caressing your thighs, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him. you grind against his face and jay couldn’t help but groan at the way you were so enthralled by the feel. his tongue never letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you catch a break from the feeling of him against you.

his mouth domes around your clit, sucking you right in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. mid arch, jay slips two fingers into you. the slight sting makes you hiss as he stretches you out again, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. he soon plants open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally.

the combination of jay’s tongue and fingers, along with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, is all too overwhelming. you couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, to which he gladly gives. fingers fucking into you faster, much deeper than ever before. the feeling of your impeding orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it.

tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. the tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches you come undone for him all over again. his thumb massaged your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. you felt yourself relax into his touch, into the feeling of lust and desire fully engulfing your soul. that’s when it takes over… your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out broken moans. it’s all too much for you to handle, but you never want it to end..

your chest is getting hot and heavy, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. your body was on cloud nine as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over jay’s forearm and thighs.

“jay…” you said his name on repeat, so low and barely audible, mind all foggy and hazy, as if he’d hypnotized you and the only word you can say was his name.

๑ ๑ ๑

a modus operandi. every killer has one, don’t they ?

some tend to prey on the young, weak, and most vulnerable. some may even go so far as devising a foolproof scenario that’ll get others to feel sorry for them, only to lure them right into their devious traps.

jay was no exception to this rule. he knew exactly how to use his good looks and charisma to get anyone to fall for his tricks. he didn’t need to put in too much effort, he didn’t have to seek anyone out because they’d come to him anyway. and no one knew a goddamn thing besides you. which only made you want to scream internally. only you knew the real truth.

ryujin’s death was the next topic of discussion for this whole week as more terror spewed upon the town. no one saw it coming, she was the last person anyone would think could be a target. gossip spread around quickly, revealing more details about the scene of the crime.

some of her internal organs were missing and was cannibalized just like soojin was. her body was so badly mutilated the authorities couldn’t even identify her at first. many were now believing it to be an act of some kind of satanic cult as there was a gigantic pentagram smeared in blood on her bedroom mirror. some were even saying that she looked like ‘lasagna with teeth’, to which you shuddered at that mental image being planted in your mind.

there was a campus curfew set in place to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the rest of the students. everyone’s worried they’ll be next, and since the killer hasn’t been caught this only made the entire town as a whole become on edge. the streets were barren, no sign of any activity past nine o’clock. no one felt safe, it was as if everything was on lockdown now. many were concerned that the upcoming spring formal would get canceled, but it’s been confirmed that it’ll still be held, although the times were changed from 7-10 PM to 6-8 PM to follow the curfew’s ‘no one out past nine o’clock rule’.

while studying in the library, you decided to do some of your own research about jay’s strange condition, reading as many occult books as you could find. you later discovered that he’s an incubus; a male demon that has sexual activity with other women. he was at his weakest state whenever he’s hungry, needing to feed on human flesh in order to sustain his lifespan and overall appearance. you never believed in the supernatural before all of this, but now that you’ve seen it with your own two eyes, you don’t think you’ll be able to live a normal life again.

“this can’t be real… there’s no way any of this is a coincidence, first the fire now a cannibal psycho’s on the loose?” mark rants about the recent murders as you sat on the swings at the park together. you were jealous of how blissfully ignorant he was, how he had no idea how much deeper this all ran.

“i know… it seems like we can’t catch a break, now the whole words got a raging tragedy boner for us..” you sigh out heavily, still shocked by how much media coverage all of this was getting, and even more uncertain if you wanted to tell him everything.

“you alright ?” he suddenly asks, noticing the way your head hung low as you stared at your feet. it was as if he could read your mind.

you pause for a moment, battling with your own inner demons on whether or not it was a good time to tell him everything, but you decide to be honest. it was the least you could do after what happened the other day…

“actually no.. i’m not..” you couldn’t withhold this information all to yourself anymore, you had to tell mark. you needed to keep him from going to the spring formal; it wasn’t safe for him to go, even if you would be with him.

so you spill everything, starting off from the night of going to the bar with jay, how he was brutally murdered and left for dead by that girl band who used him as a sacrifice, you told him about how he was there in your kitchen, and how he ended up slaughtering so many innocent people in his wake. you felt so sure of yourself that mark would believe you, but you were soon proven wrong the minute he opened his mouth.

“yeah you’ve officially lost it y/n, i hope you know that.” he looks at you as if you’ve gone crazy, mirroring the same actions as you from the night that jay confessed to you.

“i’m telling the truth mark, you’ve gotta believe me. you have to promise me that you won’t go...” you practically beg, hoping that all of this won’t fall on deaf ears, but of course, he doesn’t listen.

“i’m sorry but i don’t believe anything you’re saying right now.” he chooses to remain stubborn, staying in his ignorant little bubble as if you were just making all of this up just to get a reaction out of him.

“mark, i love you and care about you so much, that’s why i’m asking you not to go.” you continue to try and reason with him, hoping that he’ll change his mind somehow, even if you sounded like a lunatic you didn’t care.

“he’s going to strike again that night, i can feel it. it’ll be like an all you can eat buffet for him !” you may not be the most morally correct person, but mark’s life was on the line. you just don’t want him getting turned into satan chow…

“look, i’m going and that’s final y/n. with or without you.” he wasn’t interested in hearing whatever else you had to say, he’s already made up his mind and there no use in changing it.

you huff out of frustration, unable to think of anything else so you do what you feel was best for him and the both of you. “mark, i really didn’t wanna have to do this but it isn’t safe for us to be together. i think it’s best we break up..”

his eyes widened, feeling the pace of his heart quicken at your sudden words, “what ? you can’t be serious, y/n.”

“i bet jay put you up to this, didn’t he ?” his jaw clenched, fuming at the thought of jay conspiring a whole plan in getting you two to finally break up, it’s what he always would’ve wanted, and now mark feels like he’s just lost that seven month long, intensive battle against him.

you repeatedly shook your head, denying his accusation. but deep down you knew that you’ve already broken his trust anyway. maybe it was for the better that you were no longer together.

“are you really too blinded to see? he’s always been a bad influence on you..” mark was fed up at this point, feeling rightfully hurt by how easily you wanted to end this relationship all because of jay. “if he told you to jump, i bet you’d ask ‘how high?’, he’s got you wrapped around his finger, controlling you like a damn puppet !”

you were now the one to get in defensive mode, visibly getting upset. but you couldn’t get too upset, you knew there was a small truth to that statement, you were willing to do a lot of things you normally wouldn’t for jay, but you weren’t just going to let mark talk to you like that. your pride was too strong, plus you were already dealing with enough as it is. parting ways from each other was probably the best solution for you two.

“no.. i was only trying to protect you, but don’t say i didn’t warn you..” you gave him one last chance to rethink his decision but you knew he wouldn’t.

on that note, you end up heading back home. leaving mark all alone to go ponder in his own thoughts, feeling his eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he watched you walk away, fading into the void of obscurity.

๑ ๑ ๑

the night of the spring formal was finally here. the night you’ve been dreading since having that conversation with mark, forcing you to break up with him. the minute you got here you’ve been on high alert, scanning the area for any sign of suspicious activity, bringing a swiss knife with you as an added layer of protection. everyone was dressed in their best attire, bodies swaying to the music as they all tried to have a good time despite of everything that’s been happening. you didn’t see mark which you thought was a good sign, but surprisingly, you also don’t see jay anywhere either.

you were engulfed in nostalgia once mr.bright side by the killers airs on the overhead speakers of the gymnasium; which used to be you and jay’s favorite song in high school, but that fond memory only brought a wave of sadness to your soul now. looking back on those days, you specifically remember how much jay’s presence gave you strength to keep going; to keep existing. you truly felt as though you had no reason to live, but he gave you one.

during your adolescent years, it was nothing but turbulence and chaos. your father would routinely come home at the crack of dawn, drunk as sin and belligerent, destroying everything he touched. your mother would do her best to shield you from seeing and hearing their daily arguments, telling you to go straight to your room and lock the door until she says it’s safe to come back out. but being the nosy, and curious child you were you’d push your ear up to the door and listen. hearing the most horrid, degrading words he’d spew, beating her black and blue until he physically grew tired and passed out on the couch. you’d run away from home a couple times, going to jay for comfort, finding solace in one another.

jay could easily relate to your struggles, how you both felt as though no one saw you as real, raw human beings. his father left before he was even born and his mother would dabble in sex work to keep the lights on. he despised every single one of those men who’d come into his home, sometimes his mom would be gone for several days on end, forcing him to grow up at a young age and take care of himself. he wanted to seek revenge on all of those men who violated her, kill them with his own bare hands. maybe that’s why he’d act out so much, he was just a kid being a kid— but no one ever saw the cries for help, no one paid attention to the signs. just labeled a pretty boy with ugly intentions. you never saw him that way though, you were the light at the end of the tunnel, his saving grace. yeah you may have been the awkward kid who didn’t talk much, but eventually he got you to open up. and ever since then, you’ve been conjoined at the hip.

a part of you still wants to believe that he’s that same naïve boy you once knew, still so lost and so confused. but you couldn’t keep making excuses for him, even if he was a damaged soul, so were you. you truly brought out the best and the worst of each other, having seen each other at some of your lowest points in life. which is why you made a vow to never leave the other behind, but we change and evolve over time, it’s natural to grow distant. jay simply couldn’t handle the fact that someone else made you smile, made you feel all those emotions he made you feel— you were slipping right through his fingers. you were all he had left. and he wasn’t going to lose you, not now, not ever.

๑ ๑ ๑

an hour’s passed by already and there was still no sight of either of the two. your mild worries would soon fester into full blown anxiousness when you get this innate feeling that mark could be in danger. you weren’t exactly sure where he was, or if he’s had an encounter with jay, but all you could think about right now was saving his life. even though you betrayed him in the end by sleeping with jay, you couldn’t let him die, you’d never be able to live with yourself if you let that happen. so you hurried out of there and went looking for him, having zero idea exactly where you were headed, but your mind just kept telling you run, run, run.

you don’t know how long you’ve been running for, maybe around twenty, thirty minutes ? who even knows anymore. your legs grew tired, stopping midway to take a breather, until you ended up at an old abandoned pool house. you had an overwhelmingly bad feeling about the place the more you looked at it, but when you heard the gut wrenching screams coming from inside that only confirmed your suspicions, sounding a lot like someone you knew. you ran inside, following their cries for help as you try and locate which direction it was coming from, only to find jay who seems to have found his next victim— your ex boyfriend.

“get away from him !” you demand while shouting from across the room. you can feel your heartbeat accelerate as you’re speed running towards them both, forcefully pushing him off of mark, tackling jay onto the floor.

“i thought you only did this to girls !” you had held some hope that jay wouldn’t harm him, but then again you should’ve known this was bound to happen..

“i guess you can say i go both ways,” he devilishly smirks, swiping the blood off his lower lip with the sleeve of black tux.

jay throws you off of him, causing you to wince in pain as your face made contact with the cold, tiled ground. you wouldn’t back down that easily though, getting right back up to finish what you started. sprinting towards him before he could get back to the work of his own brutality.

“you know, now that i think of it. you were never a good friend to me,” you angrily spat, walking up to him with your head held high, refusing to let fear win this time. “you used to rip the head off my barbie dolls and pour spoiled milk all over my bed !”

jay chuckles at your little speech, utterly amused by your resilience, even found it cute how you were still reminiscing about the past. “and now i’m eating your boyfriend, at least i’m consistent.” he shrugged.

“you make me fucking sick..” you grit through your teeth, grabbing ahold of him before he could take another bite out of mark’s shoulder.

using all your strength, you’d shoved him into the pool, submerging him into the water, attempting to drown him, but those efforts were futile when he regains control. he pulls you back, teeth becoming sharper, like tiny daggers, sinking them into the flesh of your neck. before you could react, you’re the one being lodged into the water; claw-like nails digging into your scalp, razor sharp, weighty against your skull.

it’s hard to keep your head above the water due to the forceful heaviness and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath renders itself useless due to large amounts of water infiltrating your lungs. you’re flailing, thrashing around, arms lifting— hands frantically attempting to grab ahold of anything, only to slash through the water, legs kicking mindlessly.

you had to get him off you real quick, or else you felt as though you were going to die. your body grew weaker and weaker, seeing your life flash before your very eyes as panic fully sets in. it felt as though this was going on for hours.. being edged by death over and over; feeling as if you were going to black out soon. your vision was blocked by the dark, murkiness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to come to an end.

and then it does… finally able to emerge from the coldness as you cough up all the water you inhaled. it took a few minutes for you to be able to learn how to breathe again, attempting to calm yourself down, only to turn around seeing both jay and mark wailing in pain for two completely different reasons. mark was lying on the ground, putting pressure on his neck as jay stood there frozen, holding onto the pool skimmer that was deliberately pierced through his stomach.

“you son of a fucking bitch…” he mutters, remaining still for a second, as if he was processing what just happened. a slew of more curses left his lips, sucking in air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can. he’d slowly but surely drop to his knees, and a few seconds later he’s collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

you go up to mark, staring down at his wounded figure, his neck and shoulder bleeding profusely. “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you..” you sniffled, unable to hold back tears you’ve shed, wishing you could’ve been just a few minutes earlier.

“it’s okay.. i love you y/n..” mark weakly spoke, coughing up red splatters of blood as he took his last few and final breathes.

you gave him one last kiss as his eyes closed, you checked for a pulse but there was no sign of life, officially pronouncing him dead. you turned around and jay was gone. forcing you to run out of the place to go and looking for him. there was no other option you had left at this point, it was either you or him that was going to end up dead tonight.

eventually you’d caught up to him in the woods, finding him at a nearby tree, as if he were waiting for you to come searching for him.

“i have to kill you..” you cut straight to the point, grabbing the swiss knife that was at the bottom of your ankle boot, pointing it towards him.

“not if i spill your pretty little guts all over this ground first,” jay laughs, barely moving an inch. still seeing this as all one big game to him, enjoying the thrill of it all.

“why’re you try to be the hero all of a sudden ? still feeling guilty you couldn’t save all those people who burned to death ? they were all a bunch of worthless scum anyway, if anything, i did them all a favor.” his head tilts as he asks so many questions, attempting to throw you off, knowing that it’d only agitate you further.

you backed away as he kept coming towards you, still pointing the sharp edge at him, “you’re wrong, jay. they all deserved to live yet you took it all away like the sick, inhumane fuck you are.”

“is that really what you think of me ? then why’d you let me take your precious virginity, hm ? can’t you see ? i’m the only person who actually ever gave a shit about you.” the smile on his face was so uncanny, as if it came straight out of a cartoon. he was nothing but pure evil, and he knew it.

you couldn’t bear to listen to him speak anymore, it was giving you a headache, you had to end this quickly. you remember while doing your paranormal digging, that a blade to the heart can kill any demon, now it’s all up to you to finish the job.

“i don’t care how long it takes, you’re going to die by the end of this night.” you stated matter-of-factly, you weren’t going down without a fight, and jay happily accepted your challenge with open arms.

he bursts out into more laughter, but it was anything but normal, it sounded maniacal, as if he were taunting you. “i’d love to see you try, sweetheart.”

he lunged forward to snatch the knife out of your hand, wrestling on the ground with him to try and get it back. you couldn’t let him win, not after all you’ve went through. all you had to do was plunge the weapon into his chest and you’d end this reign of terror once and for all. but once you obtained the knife, positioning it towards his chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“if you’re going to do it then just get it over with. just do it already.” he bitterly spoke, repeating his words over and over, egging you on in your already frenzied state. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, it was like the minute you had your chance, every particle inside of you froze…

“shut up, shut up, shut up !” you couldn’t even think straight, just shaking your head nonstop while screaming at him to stop talking.

jay could’ve easily overpowered you by now, but it was almost as if he wanted you to do it, willingly ready to die by the hands of you.

“and to think i used to truly believe you were my other half…” you looked at him in disgust, unable to see him as the man who you once knew for practically your whole life. you felt as though you wasted so many of your precious years befriending the most evil, conniving person on the planet.

“silly girl... don’t you remember ? i bit you, so you'll eventually obtain my supernatural powers.” he reminds you of what happened not even an hour before, “our souls are connected now.”

you shook your head in protest, refusing to even entertain that idea, “no… i could never be like you, i’d rather die than be like you..”

jay didn’t seem to be bothered at all by your opposing comments or your lack of compliance. if anything, it only made him want you even more. sure, you may not be cooperating now, but he’ll soon condition you into believing that the only thing you’ll ever need is him.

he cracks a faint smile, “i’m afraid it’s already too late for that, my darling,” he spoke to you softly. not even realizing he’s took the knife from your hands, bringing it down to your thighs, letting the blade run across your delicate skin.

“jay…” you say his name quietly, barely above a whisper. something inside you shifts the minute your gaze meets his, a warm, fuzzy feeling tickling a certain spot within your brain chemistry. you don’t know how to describe it, but your body feels different, so inexplicably different. as if it doesn’t even belong to you anymore.

“you know i’ve always loved you y/n,” jay sweetly coos into your ear, “i just have an awfully morbid way of showing it.”

his words flustered you to no end, feeling guilty for wanting to just give in, all the fight soon evaporating from your body. although you still had so much love for mark, your undying love for jay over the years trumped all of those emotions. the primal desire for him only grew once he’d connect his lips with yours. kissing you tenderly under the glowing moonlight. just you and him, along with the coppery taste of blood on each other’s lips.

you know why you couldn’t kill him. because if you did, you know there’d be no one else in this world who could ever understand you in the same way he does. the two of you shared an eternal bond that could never be erased nor replicated. if you were the kerosene, then he was the match, slow dancing in each other’s flames gracefully.

a made match in heaven ? no, more like a match made in hell.

[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?”

[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.

[lediz-watches]

Mom Can't Cook: A DCOM Podcast

It's a podcast. You don't 'watch' a podcast. I appreciate that. I'm still going to rant about it because I just finished another listen-through and, much like the hosts themselves, simply must talk about how I have spent many hours of my life recently.

So if you have never heard of Mom Can't Cook, the short version is two grown-ass men watching and recapping Disney Channel Original Movies from the late 90s-mid 00s.

But what it really is, is this:

Friends, there will be a time in your life as a consumer of media in which you start consuming a media that you KNOW is going to be bad. Maybe you loved it when you were younger, maybe you couldn't be bothered reaching for the remote, maybe you're just that bored, maybe a friend or a family member or a child you're babysitting is making you sit through it, but the point is, you consume the media. And it's as bad as you thought it would be. It annoys you. You hate it. You want to throw things at it. But you keep sitting through it. You can't stop. You must continue to consume it until there is nothing more to consume. You are, you realise with dawning horror, a little bit in love with this thing. You have spent hundreds of hours and possibly actual money on a thing that you knew, objectively and academically, was absolutely terrible. And yet. And yet.

You enjoyed yourself.

And you must confess your sins.

That's what this podcast is about.

It's actually Luke Westaway and Andy Farrant, two British internet personalities ostensibly employed in games journalism, recapping Disney Channel Original Movies from the late 90s-mid-00s. During lockdown, they spent Friday nights watching these movies together (I suspect in lieu of going to the pub), and now they simply have to talk about them because DCOMs are the kind of insane fever dream you simply must talk about and they are slaves to the grind internet personalities who try to make content out of everything.

I love it for a number of reasons:

Luke and Andy are very fun to listen to in general. They are very good at playing off each other, building on each other's ideas, getting increasingly ridiculous and yet somehow never managing to reach the heights of a Disney Channel Original Movie from the late 90s-mid 00s. At least, they haven't yet (Ninji from Oxtra Mario Golf came close, but that was technically Mike's fault). I think they consider it a challenge.

Andy in particular has these beautiful turns of phrase that perfectly encapsulate the feeling of an adult watching the kind of insanity that seems perfectly reasonable to a kid watching a kids' movie but, twenty years later and as the wrong audience, can only be described as mildly traumatising.

Luke is wonderful at just... embodying the part of you that gets swept up in the madness, knows you're getting swept up in the madness, tries desperately to hold on to sanity, and then can only take solace in the fact that maybe it won't be so bad to go insane because hey, it's kind of fun here...

By the time the Disney Channel reached my country, I was too old (/too young) to be watching most of it, so while I may have seen ads for them, I never saw these movies. And now, I'm too infected with Cultural Studies to get through them without dissecting their context and what they're saying and why and ugh... Listening to the recaps allow me to experience them without actually having to watch them.

Regardless of how they actually feel about it, Mom Can't Cook always feels to me like a bit of a love letter to a guilty pleasure. The DCOMs are bad, and Luke and Andy will go into detail about how bad they are, but it had this thread of affection to it that I adore. Maybe it was lockdown, maybe it was just time spent with friends, who knows, but they got something very important out of these terrible movies, and they're passing that on to their listeners (Honestly we should be compensated for this trauma). But jokes aside, this podcast is actually representative of why I love fandom, and being online, despite what a terrible place I find it most of the time. It's representative of why I occasionally post to this blog. I love talking about the things I consume. Whether they're good or bad, they speak to something in me, and I want to talk back! So it's... indulgent and wonderful, and I love it. And I love this podcast for speaking to that part of me.

I intended to write short reviews on spotify, but I listen on my laptop and spotify doesn't have that functionality on PC for some reason. And by the time I was confident enough to rant like this I couldn't remember individual episodes well enough to go back and do it on my phone. So it will be a next-time thing.

But in the meantime, I must share the lines that now live rent-free in my head:

"With the unearned confidence of a Marnie". I desperately need this down the leg of some workout leggings, and yet for some reason it isn't even Tshirt merch. No one will understand why, but I need it on workout gear specifically.

"But why did they give up their hands?" I bought this shirt, and I'm going to buy it again because I bought two sizes too big for reasons that I swear made sense at the time. It makes me grin every time I look at it.

"But there was simply no time/budget." I think this is more about Luke's delivery whenever he says it, but I love it. As a person who works in projects and actually does need to live with the consequences of terrible compromises fairly often, it also speaks to my soul.

"And I hate him." Again, it's in the delivery. Mom's got a date with a vampire remains one of my favourite episodes at least partly because of this one (two? Three? I don't remember how often it got said) line.

"Because [insert noun here] is good, actually." Whether sarcastic or not. It's just a turn of phrase that now exists in my head.

I just... I don't know what the hosts intended, but what I hear is the incredible affection for this waste of their Friday nights. For stupid, terrible, insane entertainment that we watch and consume and struggle to comprehend and yet which entertains us. And I love that so much.

Because entertainment is so important, and so wonderful, even when it's objectively terrible or just plain nonsensical, because it - ack. I'm just getting way too philosophical about what entertainment is and how we respond to it, so I'm just gonna leave this one here.

Mom Can't Cook is a good podcast. I'm so happy it exists.

[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

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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. 

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