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shutupandshipit · 4 years ago

Text

5+1 - Oneshot

Summary: "Come on, Deku, spit it out," Kacchan growled. They were chest to chest now, his hand digging into the concrete behind Izuku's head. "You run your mouth all the time, but now you shut up? Cat got your tongue?"

No, not in the slightest. Something, be it Kacchan or the blood in his mouth or the pain spreading through his face or the tightness of his groin, had Izuku climbing straight up a wall. And as Kacchan continued to run his mouth, Izuku's resolve to just let it be was worn away little by little. He'd gotten better at rolling with Kacchan's temper and anger, much much better. On his good days, he did really well. On his bad day... Needless to say, today was not one of his good days.

With a clench of teeth and frustrated growl, Izuku grabbed the front of Kacchan's uniform to jerk it out of way and pull him in at the same time. Their mouths collided with a 'click' of teeth and mash of lips. Izuku had never felt so brave and so stupid and so exhilarated in his entire life as copper exploded anew on his tongue. A snarl pressed against his lips.

.....

Or five times Katsuki and Izuku got caught by the media making out in places that they shouldn't, and the one time they didn't.

Pairing: Bakudeku (because I only really write BkDk anymore)

Rating: M

Author’s Note: Welcome to another installment of my horribly self-indulgent fics. Also, 10 yrs of writing fanfiction, and this is the first time I’m writing this format? I’m behind on the times. It’s almost as bad as the fact that I’ve never written a coffee shop au. I’m slacking. Anyway, enjoy!

It all started with a kiss.

Isn't that how the saying goes? Izuku wasn't sure. He'd been interested in girls his entire life, and never put two and two together about his fascination with male heroes as also liking boys. Well, it was more his fascination with Kacchan because he'd equally obsessed over male and female heroes. Really, he wasn't even sure if he actually liked other boys. It really just was Kacchan. Always Kacchan from the get go. From day one of their rocky friendship as kids.

He'd been interested in girls, sure. Ochako. Hatsume, fleetingly -very, very fleetingly-. Neijiro. Embarrassingly Mitsuki Bakugou when he was a kid. Mt Lady. Even Midnight for a spell, but he thought maybe that had more to do with peer pressure and pure sexuality than anything else. Strong, amazing women all in their own right.

No one could hold a candle to Kacchan though.

He just never thought he was sexually attracted to Kacchan until he saw him pressed up against the side of a school building, some nameless faceless boy's hands on him and lips on him and body on him. There had been a soft pink blush scattered across Kacchan's cheekbones, his hands fisted in the boy's blazer, his knee pressed up between the boy's legs. Even up against the wall, he was the one in control, the one setting the pace.

Izuku had stopped dead in his tracks, body going hot from head to toe as he stared, stared, stared. He stared long enough that when Kacchan pulled back for a breath, slitted crimson eyes flickered to him. And then a smirk had jerked up the corner of Kacchan's mouth, cocky and sure and sexy in a way Izuku had never thought of him. When he'd pulled the boy back in, he'd stretched out his tongue to obscenely lick into the boy's mouth, and the boy moaned wantonly.

He'd bolted. Of course Izuku had bolted. He wasn't made to endure such sights, especially after finally weaseling his way back into Kacchan's friendship. In all honesty, he'd been positive that Kacchan would find him later that day, punch his teeth in, and renounce him as a friend all over again.

That's not at all what happened.

What did happen set off a whole chain of events that Izuku had not imagined happening in a hundred universes. Instead, they all decided to converge in on this universe.

Was he mad about it? No, not really. Not at all, actually. Could things have happened differently? Sure, but the media was going to be up their asses no matter what they did. They'd already been up their asses since the sports festival in their first year, so what was this to add to it?

No, Kacchan did not punch his teeth in, but mouths were involved. Very, very much involved.

Later that day out on patrol with Kacchan, one of Endeavors sidekicks, and a mouth bloodied from a fight with a villain, Izuku leaned against the wall of an alley. His breath huffed out in small white clouds, the frigid city air almost burning against his lips. Outside the mouth of the alleyway, he could still hear Kacchan screaming at the villain even though he'd already been immobilized to await the police. There was copper on his tongue and pain blooming further along his cheeks and lights dancing beneath his closed eyelids. It had been a long time since someone had landed such a solid hit square to his face. The feeling was as unpleasant as the first time he'd ever gotten clocked. Only this time he'd allowed his teammates to finish dealing with the villain while he took a break.

Sniffling back a trickle of blood, Izuku thought, 'Just another minute. Another minute and I'll go back.'

Of course, Izuku couldn't have that one moment -that would have looked too much like a gift- before he heard Kacchan calling down the alley at the top of his lungs, "Hey, nerd, you fucking dead back here or what?"

Izuku didn't deign to answer him, but he did crack one slowly swelling eye open to glance at his friend sauntering towards him, hands shoved as deep as they could go into the pockets of his pants. He wore his winter uniform now, and Izuku had never gotten over just how good he looked in it. Only now, he recognized that as him being physically attracted to Kacchan. Shirt stretch tight and taut over muscles he hadn't had when they were in middle school. Pants straining over an ass he could bounce a quarter off of. The people who talked about Izuku's ass had clearly never turned their eyes to the Katsuki Bakugou's. Kacchan's winter uniform tested Izuku's willpower every. Single. Second.

"What? Too good to answer me now?" Kacchan sneered, stepping close so they were only a meager distance from each other. "Just going to stare at me instead, huh? Just like earlier? Seems you've developed a habit of staring, haven't you? Not that you weren't always a creepy little fucking stalker, but I never took you as a voyeur. Picked up a new passed time? Have to watch other people get it on because you can't get any yourself?"

Izuku wasn't really in the mood to deal with Kacchan's taunting, but his words brought back the images from earlier that day. Kacchan pressed against a wall, tongue disappearing into that boy's mouth, face pretty with pink blush, knee pressed flush against his partner's crotch. Heat flushed through Izuku's body all over again. Worse this time though was the feeling of his pants becoming just that much tighter. "N-no! I didn't mean to w-watch! I just got surprised!" he tried to defend himself, but the crooked set of Kacchan's mouth told him that he wouldn't get anywhere.

"Sure you weren't," Kacchan growled, stepping ever closer, their noses just inches apart now. Their bodies weren't that far either. "Did you go back and jerk off like the peeping tom you are? Imagine you were the one pressing someone up against a wall? Imagine shoving your tongue down someone's throat, fucking their mouth like they actually wanted you to?"

Actually, Izuku had gone back to his room and jerked off to the thought of Kacchan pressing him against that wall, Kacchan shoving his tongue down his throat, Kacchan shoving his hand down his pants. It had been a very awkward and revealing jerk session. One that had left him unable to look Kacchan in the face for the remainder of the school day and most of their patrol. "No! Why do you have to be vulgar all the time?" Izuku hissed as his eyes darted down the alley toward the opening. They were still blessedly alone though.

Once upon a time, he'd imagined being friends with Kacchan would had toned down his taunting, but no. Sometimes if felt like they were still against each other. No, this was just how Kacchan acted at least fifty percent of the time when interacting with others. Well, interacting with Izuku. None of the others got quite this much scorn. He had to admit though, most of it was self-inflected. Like now.

"What then? Got a problem with me being into dudes? You homophobic, Deku? That's not very heroic."

Izuku ground his teeth, turning his eyes back to Kacchan and wishing beyond wishes that he could just tell him he wanted him the same way that boy had had him without getting into a fight. He couldn't say that though because Kacchan would one hundred percent blow him up. He'd detonate his quirk right in Izuku's face and obliterate every single one of his stupid freckles.

"Come on, Deku, spit it out," Kacchan growled. They were chest to chest now, his hand digging into the concrete behind Izuku's head. "You run your mouth all the time, but now you shut up? Cat got your tongue?"

Instead of pulling away and punching his lights out like Izuku expected, Kacchan gripped the back of his head, bit at his bottom lip to spill more blood, and turned his head to lick feverishly into Izuku's mouth. Kacchan kissed him like a man starving, and it was all Izuku could do to keep from collapsing on his jelly knees. He moaned into the kiss, fingers tightening in Kacchan's collar to pull him closer still, legs spreading enough for the knee that pressed urgently between them.

At some point, the only thing holding Izuku up became that knee between his legs pressed tightly against his groin and Kacchan's hands on him, one on the back of his neck and the other on his hip. That hand traveled further and further the longer they were there, the more desperately they kissed.

Kissed? Was that even the right word for what they were doing? Devouring was a better, more proper word for what they were currently doing. Hands gripping at waists and in hair. Mouths wide and moaning. Tongues hot and slick against each other. Izuku had never kissed anyone before, but in that moment, it couldn't have mattered less. When he inhaled Kacchan's groan, he knew his inexperience didn't matter.

Kacchan's hand slipped from his waist down over the rise of his hip to grip his ass tightly, and Izuku moaned, "Kacchan."

"Deku," Kacchan snarled into his mouth.

And then a flash went off.

Kacchan ripped away from him, cheeks blazing red and mouth smeared with crimson. His eyes were wide and completely focused on Izuku's mouth.

"Is that Deku and Dynamight?"

"It is! Quick!" Another blinding flash accompanied by footsteps running away from them.

"Fuck!" Kacchan snarled, whipping his head towards the opening of the alley, but Izuku didn't turn to look. If he turned his head, he'd be on the ground. "Those pictures are going to be all over the motherfucking internet come morning! God-fucking-dammit!"

Izuku was breathless and boneless, lips sore and chin slick with what he hoped was just blood. He knew better though. His cheeks and body were burning hot. "Stop cursing, Kacchan, there's nothing we can do about it now," he whispered, allowing his eyes to slide shut. Now that Kacchan's mouth wasn't superglued to his, all the strength in his body gave out. He slid to the dirty pavement. "I think my nose is bleeding again."

"Jesus, Mother Mary and Joseph," Kacchan spat, and Izuku laughed.

After that first kiss, Katsuki made a point of not being caught alone with Deku for any reason whatsoever. If they were changing for patrol, he always made sure to leave before Todoroki's was done. If they were in the classroom, he only sat at his desk when he was required to. Otherwise, he loitered around Kirishima's desk. If they were in the dorms and everyone else was headed out, he shut himself away in his bedroom and definitely did not obsess over how much he wanted to get Deku under him again.

Katsuki had known for as long as he'd been breathing that he was fully and completely attracted to guys. There was no negotiation about that fact. He was gay, period. End of discussion. What was up for negotiation was the dirty secret crush he'd had on Deku when they'd been kids that had bloomed all over again just as he was managing to get over his mental road blocks and have a friendship with the nerd.

He didn't need that in his life. At all. He had other means of releasing his pent up sexual frustrations, all in the forms of students from other departments. They were fine as friends, and he didn't want to go ruining something that had taken so long to build in the first place. Was he just expected to flush two and a half years of progress down the toilet for one little make out session? No, absolutely not. Especially not one that wasn't even that great to begin with. The nerd had clearly never kissed anyone before, and remembering everything that Deku had done wrong helped Katsuki build the list of cons against doing it again. What it did not help with was remembering everything he had done right. And he had done so many things right.

The dig of his fingers into Katsuki's shoulder. His other set of fingers gripped harshly at the short spikes of his hair. The settle of his weight on Katsuki's thigh. The way he had moaned Katsuki's name. The taste of his blood on Katsuki's tongue.

Okay, so there had been a lot -a lot- of pros to making out with Deku as well.

But that still didn't negate the fact that Katsuki wasn't going to ruin everything. Plus, they really didn't need to be getting distracted from the bigger picture of graduation. And he wasn't going to ruin things.

Accept, well, he hadn't been the one to stumble over his crush and initiate the kiss. Deku had been the one to initiate the kiss.

Everything was so fucked up. So, Katsuki avoided Deku, and was doing a pretty passable job at it for about a month until they both landed themselves in the hospital. They'd been in the hospital at the same time plenty of times before, but they'd never shared a room. This time, the universe seemed hell bent on ruining Katsuki's avoidance plans. Granted, he couldn't say he was pissed to be roomies with the nerd. At least this way he'd be able to make sure he was okay. They had come close to dying plenty of times in their high school careers -maybe more so than any other students who had ever come through UA- but this time had been especially close. So close even that Katsuki hadn't been able to go back to sleep since waking up despite with all the drugs he was under, anxiety roiling in his gut the entire time. It only got worse if he closed his eyes, cut off his view of Deku.

He just lay in his bed, eyes wide open and bleary as he stared at Deku and waited for his to open again. All he wanted was to see green faux innocence staring back at him, and then he could sleep peacefully. His anger, dulled by the drugs, simmered quietly in the back of his mind. This, all of this just like always, had been Deku's fault. Even after more than two years of training, Deku was still the same stupid teenager that he'd always been. He was a great strategist and could come up with a plan in a split second, but when his heart was concerned? Good luck. It was like he lost all sense and became a blathering idiot. Unfortunately for Deku, his heart seemed to always be involved.

Deku had run headlong into a fight he couldn't win alone, and Katsuki had stupidly followed after him.

Now, they were both in the hospital -again and he could almost hear the years falling off Aizawa's life- and it was Deku's fault, but Katsuki just wanted him to open his eyes. To make sure that he was still alive and himself. To catch hold of those emerald irises again.

To his side, Deku's heart monitor's steady pace blipped, his breath hitched, his fingers twitched out the end of his casts.

Katsuki struggled to push himself up, kicking his legs over the side of his cot. "Hey, shitty nerd, you awake over there?" he called quietly.

"Kacchan?" Deku asked weakly, voice dry and scratchy as his eyelids fluttered open and closed several times, "K-Kacchan? Kacchan, where are we? What happened?"

Pushing himself to his feet and shuffling to Deku's bedside while dragging along his machines and IV, he stared down into bruised eyes that were shot through with burst blood vessels. "Hospital, where else?"

"Why?"

"Because we were fucked up. Why else?"

Deku blinked up at him, and he could see how slow the drugs the doctors had them on had made even Deku's brain. "Did we win?"

Katsuki couldn't help the smirk that immediately plastered itself to his face, but he didn't feel the smugness that usually came with it. All he could feel was the fear that he'd been feeling since he'd woken up. That pervasive fear that either of them could have died this time. That the one kiss -make out session, let's call it what it was- they'd shared would be their only. Katsuki was so gone for this stupid asshole, just like he'd always been. "Fuck yeah, we did. Who do you think I am? Just because you got your head bashed in didn't mean I wasn't going to win. I can win without your shitty help." In all reality, Katsuki had won because he'd gone postal after Deku had been knocked out. Now he was paying the price, lying in the hospital.

Green eyes flicked down, staring at the black compression gloves around Katsuki's hands and forearms, following them up to the bandages poking out of the tops. "Yeah, silly me," he whispered, but his eyes remained transfixed. Before Katuski could formulate his next sassy response, Deku said, "You went too far again, Kacchan, you can't keep doing that."

Katsuki couldn't keep the words from falling from his mouth, strained and choked and wet, "You almost died, idiot, and I almost-"

"Sorry to put you through that," Deku said, eyes sliding away from Katsuki to stare out the window. A thin layer of frost covered the panes. If it rained, they'd have snow by the morning. "If you had just let me then at least you'd finally be rid of me. Why keep saving me?"

Katsuki stared at him, confusion slowly leaking into his system alongside more fear. It was as if the drip of his IV was straight emotion, and had nothing to do with keeping him hydrated and out of pain. "What are you talking about?"

"It's true," Deku said, eyes distant and glazed as he stared out. They were on the fourth floor right beside a tree whose branches just barely reached the window, enough to gently tap in the wind. "You'd be better off without me. Not held back. You've pretty much been saying it since we were kids. You haven't even really looked at me in the better part of a month. What's the point of you continuing to save me from myself?" For someone drugged to the gills, Deku was talking an awful lot, but maybe this was all stuff Deku had been thinking for a long time so it didn't take as much effort to pull it up. "You hate me and are disgusted by me, so why go through the trouble?"

Or maybe Katsuki was overestimating how drugged Deku really was.

"Who the fuck said anything about me being disgusted by you or hating you in recent memory? No, really, who was it because it sure as fuck wasn't me," Katsuki snapped, the burn of his anger feeling more normal now, more like his usual level of anger. It burned through his veins, chasing away the ice of the drug.

Deku gaped at him, finally looking back with eyes more focused than they'd been in the past minutes. "W-wha- But you-"

"Don't put fucking words in my mouth, Deku. It's been two fucking years since I've actually hated your nerd ass, and as for being disgusted. Why in the hell do you think I'm disgusted by you?"

Red crept into Deku's cheeks, making the caramel freckles spattered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose all the more obvious. He dropped his eyes to the thin blanket over him, curling and uncurling his fingers in the fabric. "W-well- Um- T-The uh-"

"Come on, spit it out! I don't got all night. I'd like to go to sleep again sometime this century."

"I kissed you," he hurried, cheeks only seeming to grow redder with the passing seconds, "And you haven't talked to me or looked at me for a month. Don't think I haven't noticed you avoiding being alone with me. You kiss me to within an inch of my life and then pretend like I don't exist, not just that it didn't happen, but like I literally don't exist. What was I supposed to think?"

Katsuki stared at him for several long moments that only seemed to make Deku all the more agitated. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know! Something! Anything! If you really don't hate me than a reason would be nice." He lifted his eyes, tear filled, but steely with determination, to stare at him.

The next words that came out of his mouth were due to the drugs. He would die on that hill. No way in hell would he ever admit what he did in that next moment if he'd been sober. No way in hell. "I didn't want to ruin our friendship. It took long enough to get back."

Deku's mouth flopped open. "What are you talking about? I was the one who kissed you."

"Yeah, but I'm the one who wanted to do it again."

Blinking rapidly, Deku's mouth slowly eased shut only for a smile to take its place. And then laughter was falling from his mouth, sweet, dorky, snorting laughter. Katsuki was going to combust. "Kacchan, did you ever think I wanted to do it again too? You just thought that- What? I don't even know what could follow that. Kacchan! You've been ignoring me for a month because you wanted to kiss me again?"

Katsuki could feel his face heating exponentially, and he gritted his teeth against the rising blush. "No one ever said that."

"You literally just did! Are the drugs making you forget?"

Leaning over Deku, Katsuki snarled, "These drugs aren't doing shit to me. I fucking remember everything." Except that one of those statements was a dirty, dirty lie and Deku knew that.

Eyes squinted with the force of his smile, Deku said, "Well, for the record, I want to kiss you again too and I'm glad you saved me. I'm glad your alive." He didn't look down as he made a grab for Katuski's hand where it had sunk into the bed. With his cast though, he could little more than flutter his fingers over Katsuki's.

Glancing down at their hands, Katsuki muttered, "Well, I guess I'm not pissed that your alive."

With a huffed sigh, Deku said, "I'd kiss you again, but I don't think I could pull you in right now."

Smirking, Katsuki lifted his eyes and leaned into Deku. The kiss started out slower than the first one; soft, exploratory, missing the taste of blood. It was a press of lips, a slide of mouths, a hand on the crook of Deku's neck and shoulder. Leaning heavily onto his hand, Katsuki leveraged himself over Deku, swiping his tongue over Deku's bottom lip that he accepted readily.

The hot, wet press of tongues turned the kiss inside out. Breath grew short, ragged, moaned. Tongues slid against one another, against the inside of teeth. Teeth clacked. Noses smashed as Katsuki tilted his head to get a better angle. He wasn't sure when he climbed into the cot, but suddenly there was too many wires and too many tubes and Deku's heat pressing up into him through a scant few layers of fabric. It didn't feel like his decision when he ground down into Deku's lap.

"Kacchan," Deku moaned between kisses, hips stuttering against Katsuki.

The heat of Deku's blush warmed Katsuki's palms. He groaned into Deku's mouth when fingers skimmed along his calf to hook around his ankle. "As soon as we get out of this hospital-" he snarled into Deku's mouth, but was cut off by a sudden flash of light in his peripheral view just like the time in the alleyway. "Oh, what in the everlong fuck?" he spat, jerking back from Deku as they both turned to look at the window.

A camera disappeared over the ledge.

"How are they even up there? Aren't we on the second floor?"

"Fourth," Katsuki snarled, punching the call button as he carefully crawled off Deku's bed and hobbled for the window. He willed the fabric of his medical gown and boxers to lie flat. "Fuckers. That's the second time. Endeavor's gonna be pissed."

"Mr. Aizawa is going to be pissed," Izuku groaned miserably, and he was right, that was the worse of the two.

A nurse bustled in at that moment, and as soon as she heard what had happened, she was out of the room again. She paused only long enough to order, "Get back in bed, Mr. Bakugou!"

Things didn't really change after that, but that had more to do with the fact that Aizawa had them separate as much as possible due to the now two sets of pictures of them making out in places that they shouldn't really have been. That alleyway with blood smearing their mouths and the hospital while they were still recovering. He couldn't do anything besides lock them away in the dorms. House arrest with only class and occasionally their internships to break up the monotony. As much as he might have wished, he couldn't keep them away from each other in the dorms.

They were more careful though. After that, they didn't get caught because they got better at hiding. They stuck to their rooms -which they should have been doing the entire time- and within four walls provided any windows had curtains drawn. No longer out in the open. No longer where they can easily get caught. They're relationship went from nonexistent to hidden very quickly.

Izuku hated it. He hated it with every cell of his being. Finally, they figured their shit out -mostly- and were immediately forced to conduct their relationship in the shadows. He waited literal years for something he didn't even know was going to be a possibility. He'd held out silly hope, and when that hope was finally fulfilled... He couldn't even hold Kacchan's hand in the open without the teachers or someone else flipping out because "It'll be better for your career if you two are straight." Which... what? How did that even make sense? Yeah, popularity played a massive role in the success of a hero, but Izuku was 99.9% sure that a hero's sexuality had never played that huge of a role. Until he started to do research and couldn't find a single confirmed gay hero. Which baffled his mind.

In that moment, he decided he would be the first openly gay hero to be successful, and then he'd make history again by being the first openly gay No.1 Hero as well. And Kacchan agreed with him.

They'd still decided to keep a low profile because they were well known enough already, so hidden they were. They made it all the way to graduation.

The graduation party their class threw was held on the beach that Izuku had cleaned as part of his training with All Might what seemed like decades ago, and it was large. And rowdy. And loud. And alcohol was involved, so naturally stupidity. The party was everything Kacchan hated, and things that Izuku found invigorating to a certain point.

It was several hours and more than a few drinks into the party that Izuku had filled his quota on social interactions for the day, and teetered off into the dark down the beach. There was no moon, and the sea stretched endless and pitch black into the distance. Stars wheeled overhead, the Milky Way brighter than he ever thought he'd see so close to the city. The beach weaved out in front of him, the sand cool between his toes. The scent of salt and brine filled his nose, making his head just that much lighter. The waves 'shushed' close by.

He nearly fell ass over teakettle when a hand shot out to press to his stomach and another grabbed his wrist. Instinctively, he jerked away, but the hands held fast.

"Deku fucking chill," Kacchan's ever distinctive voice snarled, palms warm on his body, "You almost tripped over me."

"Oh, Kacchan, I wasn't expecting you to be out here." Izuku allowed himself to be guided to the ground by hands that grew gentler the closer he got. He straddled Kacchan's lap, resting heavily against his outstretched legs. Even as his head spun, Izuku could clearly focus on Kacchan, always on Kacchan. "You're so pretty."

Kacchan huffed out a gruff laugh. "And you're so drunk, shitty nerd. How much have you had to drink?"

"Not that much. Just a few drinks."

"How many is a few?"

Squinting, Izuku lifted up his hands taking a moment to appreciate just how weightless they felt before trying to count. Kacchan didn't let him finish after he restarted for the third time, and he whined. "Kacchan, I was using those."

"Not very well." Kacchan pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, leaving it tingly and warm. He nuzzled along Izuku's cheek. That had been new and surprising, Kacchan's need for physical contact. They hadn't gotten much further than cuddling and feeling each other up, but they had spent a fair bit of time just touching each other. Izuku loved every moment of it dearly. "Why aren't you at the party?"

Izuku sighed, leaning into the touch. "Got loud. Needed a break. I would ask why you aren't, but I already know."

"Oh? You think you know me so well, huh?" Kacchan's lips were pressed to the spot just below his ear, and he could feel his growl as a vibration more than actually hear what he said. He trembled in Kacchan's grasp. "Tell me why you think I'm out here."

Izuku turned his head, seeking out Kacchan's mouth with his own. If he'd been sober, he wouldn't have been nearly as confident as he pressed their lips together, wrapped his arms around Kacchan's neck, pressed their bodies flush. Kacchan was the one to lead most of the time in their relationship. It felt good to kiss first, touch first, hold first. He moved his mouth to Kacchan's ear, and whispered, "You just wanted to lure me out here so we could get all sandy and dirty without anyone else seeing. Naughty Kacchan."

Kacchan's gravelly laugh was and would always be the best sound in the world. The feeling of that laugh rumbling through his chest was Izuku's second favorite sensation, the first being Kacchan's kiss. "Caught me, nerd. How did you know?"

"I'm just that good." Izuku grinned as he returned to kiss Kacchan again. This time, they didn't stop. This time, it was all tongues and bitten lips and hot shared breath. Kacchan pulled him down so that he was lying on top of Kacchan's chest, the cool sand beneath them. Izuku moaned into the kiss as Kacchan's hands slid down his back to his waist, back up, and came back down to grip his ass tightly. Kacchan lifted his legs just enough that when Izuku ground down into him, all he saw was sparks behind his eyelids.

This was how their nights went. They'd sneak into each others rooms. They'd kiss each other senseless, hold each other close. Their hands would drift, their bodies reacting instinctively to each other, but it was as far as they would ever go. Neither of them needed to be sore going into training the next day. Neither of them needed to go to class smelling like each other either, even if their entire class already knew about them. Even if the entire world already knew about them. There was always a reason to stop, always a reason not too take it too far.

Izuku was tired of that though, and he knew Kacchan was as well. Each day, his hands grew bolder, hotter, needier, more adventurous. “I want-” he started.

“Yes,” Kacchan moaned into his mouth, and he drank down the sound, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Please,” Izuku whined. He ground down harder, panted against parted lips, slipped his scared fingers beneath Kacchan's shirt.

It took an embarrassingly long time for him to realize that they were being watched. He hadn't seen a flash, but that didn't mean that they weren't using some form of night photography or a quirk. He clenched his teeth against the groan of his frustration, stilling above Kacchan at the same time Kacchan stilled beneath him.

They listened intently, mouths parted and close, sharing breath. They waited for another sound, another shuffle of sand or rustle of leaves. What they heard was the sound of a camera shutter.

“Yeah, that looks great. This is going to be such a hit. What a scoop.” The whisper was androgynous, and not quite quiet enough.

Izuku and Kacchan pushed up at the same time, anger driving them to their feet and towards the sound. “Hey, asshole, where the fuck do you get off spying on people, huh? You wanna die?” Kacchan shouted, explosions crackling in the palms of his clenched fists, sending up smoke tails.

“I won't let him kill you, but it's very rude to spy on people having a private moment,” Izuku chastised as what he assumed were paparazzi scrambled away. His head spun sickeningly, and he stopped before getting any closer.

“Where do you think you're going?” Kacchan shouted as they took off at a sprint. Izuku caught his arm before he could follow. “What the- Deku?”

“I think I'm gonna be sick.”

Snarling, Kacchan glanced between where they could still see the paparazzi stumbling across the sand and back to Izuku. Scrubbing a hand through his hair in agitation, he turned towards Izuku instead. “Don't puke on me, or you'll be the one I murder,” he grumbled as he leaned down to give Izuku a piggyback ride.

The pictures, of course, were the top trending images the next morning. Good thing they'd already signed contracts. The agency wouldn't be able to get rid of them for at least a year.

Katsuki wouldn't say that they were careless, but he wouldn't say they were careful either. They kissed when and where they want, though they were quite a bit more tame than they preferred to be in their apartment. The apartment they'd gotten together after their first year out of UA. On the battlefield, in a convenience store, on the train, in the agency, at the park.

The park was where they found themselves that particular night, drunk and stumbling and giggly after an outing with the other heroes from the agency.

Deku crashed into a swing, laughing as Katsuki crowded his space. He pushed Katsuki away with a hand on his face. "No, Kacchan, push me!" he demanded, backing up onto his tiptoes.

Katsuki ducked out of the way as Deku swung forward, laughing his fool head off. "Asshole," Katsuki spat, but rounded the set to shove Deku forward with each downward swing.

"Higher, Kacchan! Higher!"

Of course, Katsuki complied. Deku's back was warm beneath his palms, shoulders hard with muscle. He swung higher and higher, laughter flung out for everyone to hear. Katsuki continued to push him until the chains started to go slack at Deku's highest points, the hero going weightless for several seconds before the chains would snap straight when his weight returned to the seat.

He let Deku's momentum slow to a stop, and Deku pouted as he crowded his space again. "I was having fun, Kacchan."

"You could have kept going on your own," he pointed out, hands wrapping around Deku's. His fingers were cold beneath his own, and he left his hands heat just slightly to warm them. When Deku didn't say anything, Katsuki leaned into him. "You'd get sick eventually. You can't hold your liquor."

"That was one time!" Deku protested loudly, "I'm hardly drunk at all this time!"

Katsuki smirked. "This time and this time only." Tightening his hands, he leaned over Deku.

Deku met him halfway, wiggling one hand to free to wrap around the back of Katsuki's neck and pull down further. Deku whispered his name against his lips, a prayer, a reverence. They kissed for several long moments, languid and easy, breath a hot mist between them. Slowly, Deku's hand traced down Katsuki back, dipping low, low, low until his found the edge of his pants. He pushed still freezing fingers passed the waist band of both Katsuki's pants and his briefs to grip his bare ass.

"Deku," Katsuki growled, teeth clenched around Deku's bottom lip, "Don't start shit your not going to finish."

Laughing, Deku pulled his second hand free, repeating the process. "Starting what? I'm just touching my boyfriend. I'm not starting anything."

"Shithead," Katsuki growled, pushing forward to close the distance again. He kept his hands on the chains, palms growing warmer and warmer as Deku's fingers kneaded and pressed and slid against his skin. He inhaled sharply as those fingers circled his rim teasingly. "You are such an asshole."

"Takes one to know one." Deku kissed along his jaw and down his neck, searching for his favorite spot to attack. "Take me home?" he asked teasingly against the skin of Katsuki throat, teeth grazing over his pulse point, "Maybe we can continue this? I'd really love to."

Katsuki was barely listening, all focused on Deku's mouth on him and Deku's hands on him, fervently wishing that his fingers were in him. If he'd been more sober, he would have remembered where they were, who they were in a public place, how bad of luck they had with being in public. He wasn't sober though, so he only moaned in response when Deku asked, "Are you listening to me?"

Again, Deku laughed, huskier and hotter and needier this time. "Take me home, Kacchan."

"Yeah," Katsuki breathed, body engulfed in the hot fire of desire, "Yeah, let's go home."

Before Deku could pull his hands away, a couple things happened at once. A camera flash blinded them. The chain links beneath Katsuki's heated hands gave way and snapped which was new. As a result, Deku crashed to the ground with Katsuki on top of him because his hands were still clutching his ass and Katsuki had been leaning heavily into the chains. They lay in a tangled heap, groaning together as the camera clicked several more times before the photographer sprinted away.

"Jesus," Katsuki snarled, "When the fuck are we going to get a break? One day. One day is all I ask to not be interrupted by the paparazzi."

"That's asking too much." Deku still hadn't removed his hands, eyes trained on the starry sky above. He sighed. "Did you have to break the swing?"

"Didn't mean to. It was an accident."

Finally, Deku pulled his hands out, circling his arms around Katsuki's back instead. "We're going to have to replace it."

"This parks' sets are shit anyway. That swing was going to get a kid hurt one day. Or give them tetanus. I did their parents a favor." Deku laughed, and Katsuki struggled to his feet, dragging Deku with him. "Fuck it. Let's go home. We'll deal with it in the morning when the pictures show up."

Kacchan had been out on a mission for over a month. It had been exactly 32 days, 4 hours, 16 minutes and 27 seconds since he'd last seen his boyfriend, and it was starting to affect his work. Not excessively to the point that he was losing fights or getting civilians hurt or anything. More in the fact that he was far more aggressive with the villains he apprehended than normal. More waspish when he was in the office and passed by Kacchan's closed office door again. He'd thought that taking on extra hours at the agency would keep his mind off of Kacchan's absence, but it had left him simply more tired than ever. All in all, a month away from Kacchan had made him a rather unpleasant person to be around.

He'd relegated himself to his office when not on patrol or being forced to endure hours of the dog and pony show. That day was no different despite the fact that he actually had an reporter coming in for an interview as some point. He picked despondently at a store bought bento one of the secretaries had brought him earlier, and it only made him miss Kacchan all the more.

"Dynamight!"

Izuku's head jerked up, pushing the bento straight off his desk and into the trash bin as he stood. He hurried for the door, cracking it open.

The desperate angry voice came again. "Dynamight, we've got a debriefing to get to, and then you need to leave for mandatory time off! Are you listening to me?"

"Of course, I'm not!" Kacchan spat back, his voice as harsh as ever as it came to him from around a corner. When Kacchan said that though, it meant he actually had been listening. It was when he didn't respond at all that people needed to worry. "I don't need to be at that stupid briefing, I was there for there entire mission as were several others going to that meeting! I've got better things to do right now!"

Giddiness shot straight up Izuku's spine, a smile spreading wide across his face. He stepped halfway out of the office just like several other heroes were also doing along the hall.

"Dynamight!"

Kacchan rounded the corner, scowl firmly in place and eyes still black with liner as a smaller blonder hero chased after him. His mask had been pushed out of the way, his uniform still on. "Fuck off! I don't give a shit about some stupid fucking meeting!" His crimson eyes found Izuku easily in the hallway of heroes, pace speeding up even if his expression didn't change. "If they really need something from me, they can read my motherfucking report!" Without missing a beat, he wrapped his fingers around Izuku's wrist, pulling him into his office.

Kacchan slammed the door behind him and then immediately slammed Izuku up against it. There was a knee between his thighs, warm needy lips against his warm needy lips, hands on his hips. Kacchan moaned into him. "Fucking long mission. Missed you," he grumbled between kisses.

"Same." Izuku panted, arms wrapping around Kacchan's neck to hold him close. "Missed you too. Missed you the whole time." Pulling him closer, Izuku pushed his hands up into Kacchan's hair and pulled.

Kacchan moaned again, hands trailing down his hips to wrap around the back of his thighs and hoist him up. Izuku wrapped his legs willingly around Kacchan's hips, whispering out a moan as his groin pressed tightly against Kacchan's taut belly. "Get ready, Deku."

"Wha-" Izuku didn't have the time to ask the simple question as he was thrown onto his couch, Kacchan pressing heavy over him. "Kacchan, we're in the agency!" he hissed even as he pressed up into the scorching heat that was Kacchan's body, "What if we get caught?"

"Don't care." Kacchan mouthed down the side of his neck as he pulled down the zipper on the back of Izuku suit to get better access to his skin. He sucked deep red bruises into Izuku's collarbones and along his shoulders, ever careful to make sure they could be covered up. "Let them walk in. Let them know that your all mine. No one else can have you but me."

"We're in the agency," Izuku protested weakly again. Very, very weakly. He had no resolve when it came to Kacchan's hands and lips on him, his body snug beneath his thighs. He almost wanted to tell him not to bother with being careful, to have his way with him, to mark him up for everyone to see. Almost. So very close. Instead, he just tilted his head back allowing Kacchan all the access he wanted. For good measure, he ground up into the blond, pulling a groan from each of their chests. "I want you, Kacchan, want you in me. Now. If we're gonna do this-"

"We're doing this," Kacchan snarled, sitting back on his heels to reach for his utility belt.

Izuku's eyes were so hungry on him, he didn't notice the door knob turning.

They were, in fact, not 'doing thing'.

"Deku! Good afternoon!" the reporter he was supposed to meet shouted as she burst through his office door, camera flashing, "It's so good to see you again! Sorry for barging in, but I'm on a-"

Kacchan's snarl cut her off as quickly as Izuku's shout of surprise. If he'd been hot before, the blush that roared through him made him molten. He was surprised everything he was touching didn't immediately go up in flames. He was extremely aware of the compromising position her photographer had just caught himself, No.4 Hero Deku, and No.5 Hero Dynamight in. Who even took surprise pictures of people? A sadist, that was who. Well, sadists and any reporter worth their salt who was well aware of the debauchery said heroes got up to in places they shouldn't.

"Please, get out!" Izuku cried, hands over his face, "I'll do the interview in a few minutes!"

Kacchan was roaring as well, "Get the fuck out, damn extras! You ever fucking heard of knocking?"

The secretary was doing their damnedest to push the reporter and her photographer out of the door, but they didn't manage before the reporter called back smugly, "Ever heard of a bedroom, Dynamight? Or maybe just a lock?"

"Shut the fuck up and get out!" The door slammed, and only the sound of their panting filled the air for several long moments. Kacchan finally leaned forward, resting his head against Izuku's shoulder. "Five uninterrupted minutes. Five is all I ask," he grumbled.

Izuku couldn't suppress the hysterical giggle that crawled up his throat. "I would hope that it would last longer than five minutes. It's been a month, Kacchan."

Holding himself up to stared down at Izuku, he grinned wolfishly. "Oh, it'll last a lot longer than that, nerd. Just you wait."

Wrapping his arms around his head, Izuku's laughter continued until Kacchan joined. Only when Kacchan pressed a kiss to his forehead and pulled him to his feet did he calm down, still grinning stupidly. "I've got to do this interview, but I'm free after. Maybe I can convince her to delete the photo?"

Kacchan barked out a sharp laugh. "Definitely no chance of that. You know it's already been backed up on six different servers." He leaned in close, smirking. "Might have to save if myself for lonely nights. I bet its the hottest thing anyone has seen for awhile."

Izuku hands were back on his face as Kacchan turned him to pull his zipper up and fix his suit. "Don't say that, Kacchan, I don't want anyone seeing our intimate photos," he all but whined, turning back around to face the other man, "Dinner after? Maybe a movie?"

Kacchan pulled him in again, kiss softer and more chaste than before. "We'll order something in. I just want to be at home."

"Okay!" Izuku couldn't help the grin that split across his face.

To say that Katsuki's day was going bad would be an understatement. To say that his weekend was going bad would be an understatement. It was supposed to be date weekend, the only time during the month that his and the nerd's days off lined up. Sometimes it was every two months, every three. They would have dinner or go see a movie or go to the beach. One memorable time when they'd somehow bagged four days off in a row, they'd flown out to Okinawa to visit some of their classmates that had been stationed out on the island. They'd spent the first two days out there, and then returned to fuck each other for the last two days.

The point was that they spent every second together just soaking in each others company. Most days they might see each other for fleeting moments throughout the day. Passing on the street during patrol, and pausing for an always shortened kiss. In the office for lunch that one or the other always got called away from. At night before bed when they were barely awake enough to make food, take a bath together and maybe watch a couple minutes of a movie before they couldn't stay awake.

Date weekends were usually calm-ish, peaceful-ish, chill-ish. Not much running. Not a lot of people screaming. For whatever god-forsaken reason, people seemed hell bent on ruining Katsuki's very carefully laid plans this time though. He'd planned out the weekend very precisely. Yesterday, he'd planned a whole scavenger hunt for Deku that would take him to all of his favorite places. Inko's apartment, Katsuki parents' house, the playground near their new home, the ramen shop near the agency, the convention center where he had his first meet and greet as Hero Deku, the flower garden where he bawled his eyes out thinking Katsuki didn't want to be with him but had actually asked him officially to be his boyfriend. Which had only made him bawl harder.

Point being, there had been a treasure trove of moments Katsuki had for Deku to remember that would lead to a dinner at Deku's favorite katsudon place and Katsuki down on one knee. It would have been perfect since it was their anniversary. Only that had to be scrapped when they were called in even before they woke up for some stupid sting operation that "absolutely no one else" could handle. They'd been at the agency all day, an exhausting sixteen hour day when they should have been at home.

Now, Katsuki was just doing his best to lose the goddamn media because fuck every paparazzi out there if he wasn't going to publicize his own engagement. Or lack there of if Deku decided to say no. Which was a very real possibility, he was sure. He didn't have any doubts that Deku loved him, but he did doubt that Deku would want to spend the rest of his life with him. Listen, he knew his faults, but he could hope.

So, Katsuki had spent the better part of the day carting Deku around from spot to spot. They had breakfast, went to the new Hero Exhibit Deku had been salivating over for the past week, had lunch, saw the newest movie that Deku had also been salivating over for the past month, had dinner, and now Katsuki was trying to lose the cameras that had been following them for the entire day. He had hoped that they'd lose interest by now, but no luck. They were like wild animals just waiting for a scrap of meat to hit the ground.

"Jesus fuck," Katsuki snarled under his breath as another flash went off right in front of his face, "Fucking vultures."

Deku's hand squeezed tightly in his as he leaned into Katsuki body. "It's alright. I mean, I'd rather be able to spend time with you without ever second being documented, but it was nice either way. I had a really fun time today."

Katsuki glanced over at the dumb smile that would inevitably be pulling at the corners of Deku's lips. He was such a goner for that smile. He was in so deep for the man at his side that he couldn't even see the hole he'd tripped into. He suspected it was because he couldn't fit through the hole anymore. "We're not done just yet, nerd, I've still got more planned. I just need to lose the vultures."

Interest had Deku's eyebrows jumping towards his hairline. "Really? More? We've been out all day. We're usually home by four on the weekends."

Katsuki raised an eyebrow in return. "What? You don't want to or something?"

"Not what I said," Deku snarked, leaning more heavily into Katsuki and making him stumble over his own feet, "Lead the way. I'll follow you anywhere."

A smirk twisted Katsuki's mouth. "Yeah, you fucking do. Get ready to run."

"What?"

Instead of repeating himself, Katsuki grabbed his cell and dialed one of the few numbers he actually used regularly. Before Kirishima could say anything as the call connected, he asked, "Are you and the other extras ready to go?"

'Just got into position! Where are you at?' Katsuki gave him their location. 'Awesome, man! We're actually right around the corner! Hitoshi and Denki are ready for the display. Momo and Shotou are waiting by the docks. Chako, Mina and I are here for support to block any cameras we see on your tail. T-minus two minutes. Make sure you're at the corner.'

"Copy. We're ten feet from the corner. Thanks for the help, shitty hair." He ended the call on Kirishima's splutter of surprise.

"Kacchan?" Katsuki glanced back over at Deku, taking in the furrow of his brow and pinched lips. "What's going on? You rarely thank people unless they're doing you a massive favor, and you never ask for favors."

"Don't worry about it. Just follow my lead. It'll be worth it. Trust me."

Eyes narrowing just the slightest, Deku pursed his lips. "I trust you," he said simply.

Katsuki pulled them to a stop at the corner that expanded into a spreading park just across the intersection. There were people dotting the grass, basking in the last dregs of afternoon light, walking their dogs, studying. If the activity could be done outside, there were people doing it. The park was incredibly close to the harbor which made it the perfect spot for the distraction. Already, he could see Shinsou and Kaminari walking by the fountain, grinning like fools. He pressed his mouth to Deku's ear. "Stop here. When I say run, we're going to sprint to the left and then take a right at the next light. Don't stop until we hit the docks, the ones for private use. No quirks, we want to blend into the crowd."

A tremor rolled through Deku's body, grip tightening on Katsuki. "Got it," he whispered back, and there was a thread of poorly disguised excitement in his voice.

"Not long now." He straightened up, putting space between him and Deku, but keeping their hands clasped. In his head, he counted backwards from one-hundred. He hadn't reached fifty when he saw Shinsou pull Kaminari to a stop and drop to one knee in front of him. The pair had secretly been engaged for the better part of a year, which Katsuki was actually surprised had remained a secret. Kaminari normally couldn't keep his mouth shut, but he knew that just like with him and Deku, they had wanted this to be on their terms. It just so happened they were willing to reenact their engagement in public to facilitate Katsuki's engagement in private. He and the others had run media control for them before, so it was just payback.

Kaminari for all his idiocy, was a decent actor, and Shinsou knew how to stir up a crowd. He'd made sure they were in the mist of a rather larger group of onlookers, and the crowd erupted in high pitched screams of excitement when Kaminari pressed his hands over his face. Like bees to honey, onlookers flocked. That included the paparazzi tailing Deku and Katsuki, and all the other cameras close by.

"Good luck," Uraraka sang close to them as she tapped her fingertips and then their clothes, "That should help you stay light on foot."

"Chako?" Deku squeaked, but Katsuki didn't give him time to wonder about her.

Making eye contact with Kirishima and Ashido, Katsuki nodded. "Run," he said as their tails took off across the intersection with little care for the flow of traffic.

Deku laughed as they sprinted down the side walk hand in hand, weaving through people confused by the cacophony and even more confused when they darted passed them. His laughter became breathless and high the longer they ran, but it never fell away. Even as they slowed at the docks, his chest heaving as he leaned into Katsuki's side, he was still giggling. "What was that?" he panted, hand pressed to Katsuki's chest until it slid away from him to clutch at his knees, "I don't think I've run that much on ground in a long time. It's different without my quirk."

"You're out of shape," Katsuki told him as he grinned. Even he struggled to even out his breathing. He was no spring chicken either, not that he'd ever admit that out loud. "Chin up, Deku, we're not done yet?"

"Running?" Deku whined, standing straight only to flop his head back on his shoulders, "You're going to kill me, Kacchan. This better be worth it."

Katsuki scrubbed a hand through Deku's now sweaty curls before slipping their hands together again. He pulled the other man along, shoes scuffing across the worn wood of the docks. "It will. Now, which dock..." Trailing off, he glanced back down at his phone to find the dock number in the group chat Kirishima had started to organize the whole debacle. While they walked, Deku chattered happily, eyes scanning over the marina and all of the colorful sailboats drifting out towards the open waters. Probably doing something similiar to what Katsuki had planned.

"I was really surprised to see Hitoshi and Denki doing their proposal again. I thought they weren't planning on publicizing until closer to the wedding. Isn't it crazy? Do you remember when everyone was freaking out just from pictures of us kissing? Everyone really thought we wouldn't be able to make it as heroes for being together. Now there's more openly gay and lesbian heroes and couples than there has ever been, and not just heroes either. Did you hear about that hero in Hokkaido that just came out as trans? It's amazing!" Deku's grin was bright and wide, but fell when he spotted their destination. "Shouto? Momo?"

"Hi, Izuku! How's you're day going?" Yaoyorozu chirped as Todoroki passed a key to Katsuki on a hot pink bungee cord bracelet.

Deku's eyes darted between them, watching the exchange intently. "It's been, uh, good. What's going on?"

Todoroki smiled over at him, and Katsuki had to physically resist the urge to raise his hackles. "Have a good time. We'll help you untie and kick off, and we'll be back in about an hour to help you tie back up." He tilted his head towards the sailing boat bobbing gently in the water. Unlike the bungee cord, the boat's sail was an icy blue and white, the hull a dark mahogany color. "Sunset is in about an hour, so we better get you guys on your way."

Deku was still spluttering as Yaoyorozu helped him into the boat with a, "Don't worry about that, just enjoy yourself," and Todoroki started to untie ropes from the dock.

Katsuki dropped down into the boat afterward, quickly checking the front to make sure the blankets and champagne he'd brought several days earlier was where Todoroki told him he could stash it. Satisfied, he deftly went around collecting the bumpers from the water and ignoring Deku's stuttered questions. He sent the pair a two fingered salute as they pulled away from the spot.

"Kacchan! We're going sailing?" Deku asked nervously, leaning over the side of the boat to stare into the water, "I didn't even know Momo and Shouto owned a sailboat. Why do they own a sailboat? Why do you know that they own one? Do you even know how to sail?"

"They've had it for a couple of years now, and they compete on their off days for charity. I didn't spend all that time with Icy-Hot's not to know how to sail like a pro, so yes. I do." Katsuki increased their speed as they made it out of the docks, steering them towards the sea. The mouth of the bay waited for them, the sea expanding out beyond. Other sailboats, sails colorful and bright and patterned flared open, slowly crawling in the same direction. They wouldn't go out far, just passed the bay opening and far enough that any camera lens would not be able to pick them up. They'd still be within shouting distance of the other boats. He relayed the information to Deku.

Deku was still leaning over the side of the boat, staring down into the murky waters of the bay. His head whipped around after a moment of silence, mouth open wide. "W-wait, Kacchan! D-d-did you just say you spent time with Shouto? Like willingly? Like not during work? I did hear you correct, right? Did I just hallucinate?"

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki didn't take his eyes off of what was out in front of him. Though it was mostly open waters, he didn't want to ram into anything that would damage the vessel. He didn't want to think about what the upkeep on it cost, and more importantly, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were already doing him a solid. He didn't want to owe them anymore than he already did. "You didn't hallucinate. You heard me right."

"But... why? You hate spending time with my friends, especially Shouto."

"I don't hate spending time with your friends. I just can't stand being around them for a long time."

"I still don't understand."

Katsuki chanced a quick glance at Deku as they were about to push through the mouth, sighing through his nose. "This is our fifth anniversary. I wanted to make it special. This was the only way I could think to get away from the cameras." When he glanced again, tears had filled Deku's eyes, and he snorted. "Don't start crying just yet, shitty nerd, night's not over yet." He didn't have to look to know there was red splashed across Deku's face as he scrubbed at his cheeks.

They motored easily through the mouth of the bay, and it was like the land had been blocking every bit of the sunset. Gold and orange and red burned across the sky, and Deku gasped at the sight, standing to scramble to the front of the boat. "Kacchan! Look at it!" Out before them, all of the sailboats that had left before them dotted the calm ocean, bobbing gently as they passed by. "Oh, it's beautiful!" The sun still had a good thirty minutes before it was completely beneath the edge of the horizon.

Katsuki spied other couples out of the corners of his eyes, cuddled up on blankets or leaning against the railing of the vessels or sitting on the backs with their toes just skimming the water. "Go to the front. Get the blankets, glasses and bottle that are beneath the seat. Set them up beneath the sail while I stake out a spot."

Deku lifted the seats he'd been kneeling on, pulling out everything he'd stashed away. "This is where my favorite blanket disappeared to? Kacchan!" he reprimanded, bringing everything up with a huff, "I've been looking for this everywhere." He peeled open the space bags Katsuki had stored the blankets in to keep them clean, the fabric returning to normal in an instant. Deku pressed his nose into the fluffy, soft orange and black blanket, breathing deeply. "Mm, it smells like you."

"You're such a weirdo," Katsuki huffed, but they both knew he was pleased. He slowed the boat to a stop, dropping down onto the back to drop the anchor before joining Deku again on deck. The main deck was recessed providing some form of privacy from any prying eyes. Deku had spread the blankets out, layering them like Katsuki had planned with his favorite on the top. He pulled it around their shoulders as Katsuki sat.

The box that had been in his pocket all day was suddenly burning a hole in his pocket.

Deku snuggled close, head pressed to Katsuki shoulder as they leaned back against the mast. "Thank you so much, Kacchan. I don't think I could have thought of a more perfect way to spend our anniversary."

Katsuki's fingers were itching, palms sweating profusely as he tried to discreetly reach for the box. He had never been so acutely aware of his nerves and his many flaws in his entire life than in this one central moment. "Yeah," he said as calmly as he possibly could manage, but something must have still slipped through.

Lifting his head, Deku looked at him in concern. "Is something wrong?"

Not trusting his voice, Katsuki shook his head, swallowing. He'd managed to wedge the box out, but now his hands were shaking, and 'Fuck, how do people do this multiple times?' To put it simply, Katsuki was freaking out.

"Are you okay? Are you sick?" Deku sat back up, and Katsuki cursed his own nerves for making the nerd worried. Now Deku was all fluttery and stuttery and pressing cool fingers to his sweat slicked forehead. Instead of trying to get the words out, Katsuki simply lifted the green velvet box and pulled back the lid. Deku went completely silently.

They stared mutely at each other for long moments that passed seamlessly from one to the next as the sunset began to fade. Deku's mouth had flopped back open, eyes saucer wide as they flicked between Katsuki's face and the box. His answer was as wordless as his question.

Deku threw himself at Katsuki, pinning him to the deck as he pressed their mouths together. Despite his sudden movement, the kiss was slow and and gentle and searing. A kiss that had Katsuki's blood rushing, heart taking off at a sprint. No matter how long they'd been together, no matter how many kisses and touches they shared, Deku never failed to remind him that he was alive. That they were alive and together.

He opened beneath Deku's mouth, moaning his name quietly as he slid his hands beneath Deku's shirt and up his back.

Deku arched into his touch. When he pulled back, there was barely an inch between their mouths. "Are you going to ask me something?" he whispered, lips a butterfly's breath from Katsuki's. His body seemed to coil beneath Katsuki's hands, fingers tensing against the sides of his face.

"Izuku Midoriya, will you marry me?" Katsuki asked.

The noise that left Izuku's voice was not human in any sense of the word, but it didn't matter when he followed it with, "Yes!" He dived back in against Katsuki, body pressing as close as physically possible as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to Katsuki's waiting and wanting mouth.

Out of the camera's eye for the first time in what felt like years, they kissed until their mouths were red and swollen. When they were finally and truly alone, no other boats lingering nearby, they followed the heat of their kisses to their natural release. Lying together beneath the blanket of stars, naked and sated, Katsuki finally slipped the ring onto Izuku's finger. "We don't tell Icy-Hot about this part," Katsuki said, pulling Izuku onto his chest and running a hand down his bare back.

"No, this is just for us," Izuku agreed, "Finally."

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #katsuki bakugo #izuku midoriya #my writing #5+1

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leggomylino · 5 years ago

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Dark Rising☽✮☾Act One

☽✮☾ Dark Rising Masterlist ☽✮☾

Genre: Horror/Thriller, Drama, Romance, Comedy

Pairing: NCT’s Johnny Suh x fem!reader (x ???)

Word count: 5.9k

Warning(s): mentions of blood, yandere-esqe themes, cuts/injuries, soul stealing and kidnapping. Possibly more in the future depending on what the original authors decide. They write for ot9 and so do I.

A/N: Main Masterlist in BIO! | This is a spinoff series to the SKZ fanfiction Twisted Karnival, by @gaiyofanfiction. It can be read alone, but you are encouraged to read the original story first. At the authors’ request, I will take this down if asked to do so. I do not own Twisted Karnival or Stray Kids, or Johnny Suh, or any characters used in this. All credit goes where credit is due. The events that happen in this story are not canon in the original story, this is simply a work of fandom and appreciation, and thus will tie into canon events as closely as possible in respect to the original works. All that being said… Thank you. <3

IMPORTANT -> (** This story picks up after the events of Twisted Karnival, Chapter 6. While this can be read as a stand-alone fic, better understanding can be found upon first reading through T.K. Ch. 6. Please support the series! ♫)

~ ☽✮☾ ~

A cross necklace, and a whistle. That’s all you had to defend yourself.

The sky was dark outside the main tent, the walkways bare and lifeless. A cold breeze swept up from the South, adding to the chills that threatened to tear you down where you stood like a hazardously put-together Jenga tower. One wrong tug, one sudden misstep, and you would be a heap at their disposal...they being the nine demonic beings encircling an unfortunate young girl who couldn’t be far from your age.

You were watching now from the back of the tent, through a small flap that had been open to allow air to circulate after the events that had taken place. It wasn’t nearly large enough for a person to fit through, about the size of one’s head, with a slit of velvet and silk curtain separating the back passage from the main stage. You’d lucked out, really, that one of the younger demons had come tromping by complaining about the humidity and had opened it for your eyes to witness.

Though in some ways, you really wish you hadn’t. You felt like you were going to be sick, seeing this poor girl bruised and crying, blood seeping down her arms and through the rips in her jeans.

“Hey, come on. It’s going to be okay. This is why you’re here.”

A hand fell lightly on your shoulder from the man beside you. You looked to him with clouded eyes and doubt in your heart, before turning back to the scene unraveling before you, whilst your fingers toyed with the chain and pendant around your neck.

You weren’t sure where it had come from or why you were here. But apparently that’s what this man, Johnny, was for.

Let’s back up a bit. Okay, picture this: You were just a regular girl minding your business, walking out from your part-time job to go straight home like the good student you liked to think you were, the only thing on your mind the leftover BLT waiting for you in the fridge, when you’d come across a crowd buying (or rather, receiving free) tickets from two dangerously handsome (and somewhat scary looking) strangers. Life had been peachy before all of this; sure, a little stressful balancing a life that consisted of school, a job, and a small almost non-existent social life, but hey, it wasn’t bad.

That’s when he’d first showed up.

“Suspicious, isn’t it?” He’d asked, staring into the crowd with his hands in his deep dark trench-coat pockets. He’d completely snuck up on you, appearing out of nowhere to your right and effectively scaring the daylights out of you. And you’ll admit, you let out a noise that wasn’t exactly...ladylike. Something between a “bwarf!” and a screech. It’d managed to turn a few heads nearby, but Johnny, who you hadn’t known was his name just yet, only pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said, training his eyes back on the growing crowd. His face went from lighthearted-borderline amusement to vacant and dim.

“Do you see all these people here?”

You stared at him a moment before following his gaze, a frown encasing your lips. Who did this guy think he was, first scaring the daylights out of you and now trying to strike up a conversation and keep you from that delicious leftover BLT calling your name? “Uh...yeah…” Slowly, you turned your head back up to face him, brow arched. “...I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Nah. But I can fix that.” He held out his hand without taking his eyes off the wavering crowds of innocent bystanders, a faint smile taking over for the hair of a second as he introduced himself. “Call me Johnny. It’s a pleasure.”

“......” You stared at his outstretched hand for an awkward moment too long before hesitantly grabbing it, shaking it once, twice, before becoming...pleasantly aware of how incredibly soft and warm his skin was, and the comforting pulse that radiated through your whole body. It soothed each ache and pain from the day’s toil like an iron over a smooth silk sheet. Every wrinkle and crease had vanished.

Woah...it’s like...I feel like a totally new person...where did all this energy come from?

...Observing him in awe, you’d almost forgotten to give him your name in return, gaping up at him as you were like a fish out of water. “...U-Uh...I’m--”

“Y/n,” he stated, matter-of-fact. Your eyes went wide.

What the heck? “...How did you know…?”

“Shhh,” he kneeled down to be at eye-level, for he was an incredibly tall individual. A typical dark, mysterious, handsome stranger all the girls in high school dream of encountering, except he couldn’t possibly be a bad or dangerous guy...in fact, you couldn’t help but want to cling to him. It was crazy, but just being within eyesight was enough to make you feel safe. Which was odd...and crazy. Definitely crazy. It didn’t make any rational sense whatsoever. Which is why you found your body taking the smallest of nudges and half-steps closer to his side, to this man you knew nothing about save for his name and the fact that he made you feel nearly invincible by some nameless sorcery.

When he leaned down, his cheek was practically against yours. Despite feeling safe, you began to sweat.

Johnny pointed far out into the crowd, where the two gothic-looking boys in strange but attractive attire were shouting and waving flyers around, passing out tickets in between, some yellow, others black. Each of them looked charming and genuine beyond belief. Heck, you wanted to buy a ticket from them too; and maybe a lunch date.

You held up a hand to point as well, trying to remain as discreet as possible. “Those guys?”

Johnny nodded, lowering your arm slowly and moving to stand behind you. You would have been weirded out and panicking had you not felt so unusually calm and comforted by his presence. Seriously, something is up with this guy. I don’t know anything about him and yet...ugh, it’s like I’ve known him my whole life. Talk about cringe...

He placed his hands over your eyes, and you closed them on instinct. You didn’t have time to question, and again, you found that you couldn’t, anyway. Somehow, something deep inside told you to trust him. “Now,” he continued, “when I count to three and let go, you’re going to see something that isn’t so pretty. But don’t be alarmed, they can’t hurt you. I promise that nothing you see can hurt you. This is really important, so I’m going to repeat it again, because the last human I said these words to nearly had a heart attack because they didn’t listen: I promise, nothing you see can physically hurt you. Understand?”

You began to squirm, growing more impatient by the second, what with your stomach growling and all. “Yeah, yeah, I got it already! I’m waiting!” ...That BLT wasn’t gonna eat itself, y’know? But really, at the same time, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted him to let go.

But then he reached a final count. And he did let go, slowly as not to startle you and give you time to adjust.

What you saw was a thing of nightmares.

The sky had grown dark, blood red shrieking at you from behind pitch black clouds. A scream caught in your throat; you were too speechless to move, or speak, or do anything but stare in absolute horror.

The people around you had all become vessels. They were still human, but...different. Rather than solid beings, they’d become hollow and see-through, as if they were made of mist or steam. Everyone had a light at their core, which instinct told you was…

...Their spirit. It’s pulsing with energy and life.

Some were dull and barely hanging onto life. Others were bright and vibrant, bursting with color and joy. Many were somewhere in between, balanced and average, each telling a new story, a different tale; a little girl worried about starting kindergarten, a man who was down on his luck and endlessly searching for a new job. A woman who’d just gotten engaged, a teenager wondering if he should risk punishment bringing the stray cat in his bag home. Everyone had a different story, varying concerns, sadness and joys.

But there was one in particular that was a conundrum. It wasn’t necessarily good, or bad, or anything like the others: what it was was pure and vivid beyond belief. It was almost blinding, but...there was a film around it, choking out the light. A ball of white light encased in a mist of thick, gray fog. The demons were eyeing it like a rare delicacy they’d been deprived of for years…

And it was emanating from a young girl, who couldn’t be any younger than you.

And then you’d gasped, because that’s when you realized what they were. Demons. Monsters. Vile creatures targeting humankind. There were two of them-- the well-dressed boys from before. But they’d changed now, those innocent young men long gone, left behind to shadows and ancient rust. Their true appearance...or whatever this was...was too terrible to describe. It was worse than any horror movie you’d been forced into seeing.

The thing that made it worse was that it wasn’t a horror movie. This was real.

The scream in your throat had long dissipated into empty gapping and heavy realization, and it was at this point Johnny must have decided he wasn’t very good at first impressions other than the whole making-you-feel-safe-with-a-simple-handshake-and-being-within-eyesight, because the next thing you knew he’d spun you around to face him, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Sorry you had to see that so soon. But we’re running out of time and I know how brave you really are. I thought it’d be easier if we tackled the first milestone a little early, crash course style.”

What…?

But then he’d swiveled you back around, and everything was back to normal. The crowds, the noise, the gothic-themed advertisements. The blood-painted sky, the dark clouds, the vessels and auras and demonic dark blobs that you couldn’t get past describing-- they’d all gone, and two cheerfully sly salesmen remained, making it rain tickets and creatively crafted flyers left and right.

“What...What was that?!” You demanded, anxiety blooming late in your chest. Screw feeling safe, that was still terrifying as heck! Surely you’d fallen asleep at work and were just overtired...right? Right…?

Maybe this was all just a dream. You’d fallen asleep at your desk again, and any minute now your coworker Chenle would be batting you with a rolled-up newspaper or gently shaking you awake if he knew you’d really had a hard day, or-- er-- and--

“Th-The lights and the shadowy blobs and- and all the noise just disappeared, it was so quiet, and those two--” You shivered, taking a step back and bumping into Johnny, who held you firm. “Those two...they’re...they were…”

You were beginning to hyperventilate. The man behind you sighed. “I know.” He gave your shoulders a slight squeeze, and you felt that soothing impression run over you once more, helping your breaths to relax, your pulse slowing to a steady, normal thump. “It’s exactly as you saw it. Each sphere of light is someone’s spirit encased in their aura.”

“Their...aura?” The frick was he talking about?!

“Yeah. Like I said, we’re pressed for time here, so try to keep up. A lot of people think they’re one in the same, but they’re not. Your aura is tied into your emotions, both on the surface and buried in your subconscious. It’s the bridge that connects the two. They can be manipulated at will by many factors…” His eyes landed heavily on the two demonic creatures disguised as charming young stagehands now maneuvering their way through the crowd to pass out tickets faster and with more demand than voluntary. “...But it is seperate from the spirit. Your spirit is your lifesource. It’s who you are and what defines you. Auras can easily change, but the spirit is something that takes a lot more elbow grease and determination to turn.”

“......” You hadn’t been sure what to do. What to say. You were practically speechless.

So instead you tilted your head back and asked the only thing on your mind.

“Johnny…who are you?”

He’d only looked down on you with another guarded smile. “You’re about to find out. First, I have a job for you.”

“What? Job?” You frowned. “I’m sorry but, hold on a sec.” You pushed yourself away, but not too far, wanting just the right amount of distance from Tuxedo Mask and the Dark Kingdom not far off. “Listen, I don’t even know you, you just appeared out of nowhere and started showing me all this weird and scary stuff, and preaching to me about heavy topics, and now you want me to perform some...job?” ...You shuddered at the way it’d come out, how it all sounded. Perish the thought.

Johnny, however, remained as calm and nearly stoic as he had been this entire time, puffing his straying locks away from his face and shoving slender fingers into his coat pockets like some cool P.I. Detective...or quite possibly, Tuxedo Mask. Which is how you were slowly beginning to see him. “Perform...ironic.” His eyes flicked over to the girl with the white as snow soul, then back over to the young men (who you were just about dang near positive weren’t really men at this point), making their rounds through the continuously enlarging masses.

The square was steadily growing more and more crowded, forcing you to close the small amount of distance you’d managed to create between you and Johnny. Suddenly one of them, who had secretly been eyeing Snow White this whole time, took off and seemingly disappeared a moment before popping back up right in front of her, engaging her and her friend in conversation.

Meanwhile, Johnny gestured almost bluntly toward the other one, a boy with cherry red hair and fox-like features. “I want you to get yourself a ticket to the carnival.”

“You want...wha?”

It took you a minute to register those words, standing there staring off into space. But before you knew it, a spontaneous gust of gentle wind was literally pushing you into the crowd you’d previously been trying to get around and away from, thus ending the fleeting hope of sitting at home with that delicious, delectable, slowly aging BLT.

“Don’t worry, I’m with you,” the wind whispered...yeah, whispered. It spoke to you, in Johnny’s voice. You weren’t sure if that was meant to comfort you or just...creep you out that much more…not to mention you were apparently the only one that heard it.

...But you guessed you felt a little better knowing Johnny was secretly beside you-- if that really was him-- ...Wait, Johnny…?

The gust of wind that’d stolen Johnny’s voice dropped you off in a small opening a few feet away from a dark red-haired boy with a sly grin and some of the most charming dimples you’d ever seen on such an equally attractive boy, but...no, no. You weren’t going to get swept up in that. Not when you knew the truth. Something was very wrong with this picture, other than the fact this boy was actually a demon of some sort, and you suddenly (by some influence not entirely of your own) had a need to get to the bottom of it.

In the name of the Moon™, I’m onto you.

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened, slightly, taking a step forward.

A new wave of ecstatic carnival-enthusiasts cut you off, swarming the young boy and begging him for tickets, lowkey sending you flying. Ouch. You crossed your arms, a huff of impatience leaving your chest--

And then it was like you blinked, and they were gone, and suddenly the boy was before you. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat. What the…?

But for a wavering moment, just one short second, you could have sworn that something passed over him. Something that had been foreign to him for many years, and had just then, for the slightest of moments, climbed back up to the surface and gotten its first breath of air in what had to be a very long time.

It was fear. Uncertainty. Caution. Insecurity...and it rippled over him like a small pebble dropped into a forgotten spring.

But it had faded and crawled back into its cradle just as quickly as it had come. “...Hello there~” the boy greeted, and the moment he spoke you felt a xylophone being played against your spine. His chords were sweet as honey, playing a siren’s tune. It made the hairs on your neck stand firm. “Are you curious about the carnival as well?”

“......” You’d time-lapsed backwards into gaping-fish mode. All your instincts were screaming at you to run away, scram, scat, get out of there and as far away from this boy, from his accomplice, from everything that had to do with the word carnival as possible, but instead, this happened:

“Um, yeah. Just one, please.”

~ ☽✮☾ ~

...And that’s how you’d ended up here, in a twisted back walkway of the infamous and appropriately titled Twisted Karnival, with what you’d soon found out to be your temporarily self-appointed guardian angel, Johnny, at your side. Because get this: he really was an angel. No, really. Wings and all. He apparently didn’t care to show them much, though…more on that later, it was besides the point. You were here, now, with Johnny, in a demon-run carnival that was all a scam to steal people’s souls for who knows what, and apparently, as Johnny had told you when you finally had managed to make it home and finish off that deliciously awaiting BLT, it was up to you to stop them.

That’s right: you. Y-o-u. A human girl that had absolutely NO connection to ANY of this shenanigans until now and would much rather be laughing at the corny overexaggerated jokes of your favorite night time sitcom but were instead standing in what was literally hell on earth.

Your eyes glanced down to the pendant nuzzled between your fingers. A gift from Johnny that he’d basically thrown at you on the way over and almost poked your eye out. Apparently, it was supposed to protect you, and so far it hadn’t done a bad job, you’d admit: “As long as you have it on you,” he’d said as the two of you skulked about the festival grounds, “They won’t be able to see you from a specified distance. The higher ranking the demon, the less effective it is. But get within three feet of any of them, and it’s game over.”

“What about you?” You’d asked, worriedly tossing glances left and right. This carnival was definitely haunted, or infested with some kind of bad juju.

He’d only smiled in return. (He did a lot of smiling for a guy so seemingly serious.)

“Don’t worry about me. They can only see me if I let them...or if I run out of juice. But don’t worry about that right now. Focus on the mission.”

...Sigh. So here you were, at last, staring into an evil tent at an evil ritual happening on evil grounds. Fun.

“Johnny,” you mumbled, gazing sadly back into the dim-auraed tent. “This necklace...you said three feet, right?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you, then back into the tent as well. “But I told you not to worry too much about it. Even if they do spot you, they won’t be able to touch you so long as you have it touching some part of your body. ...That’s really important, okay? Your pocket won’t work, a small part of it has to make contact with your skin. I’ll say it one more time, for good measure--”

“Don’t. I heard you the first time…”

Geez. Don’t worry, don’t worry. He sure did say that a lot.

“I got it already, just get to the point on what it is that I have to do with any of this. You never explained why it has to be me or why I’m here. Also, shouldn’t we be helping her right now?!”

“...No. Listen to me, be careful to never take that necklace off--”

“What do you mean no?! Are you kidding me right now?!?”

“Shhh!” He pulled the two of you down for the count of twenty rapidly-pacing heartbeats, then slowly back up when he’d deemed the coast to be clear.

Be careful, be careful… Ugh. Your questioning brow gave away your deposition as your thoughts trailed off, peering annoyed and worriedly back at nine handsome men surrounding a helpless injured young woman. “...Why would I do a dumb thing like that?” you asked, countering the previous topic. “Are you kidding me? I don’t have a death wish--”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” His face grew sad and melancholy despite the gentle smile he wore for you. At least 80% of the past few hours, anyway. “Demons are crafty. They’re clever. Though they can’t remove it themselves, they’ll find ways to convince you to do it, to expose yourself to them from the inside. They’ll get in your head and manipulate your heart. It happens all the time…it’s what they’re good at.” He scoffed a bit, nodding to the youngest boy in the circle. “That’s what happened to him.”

“What? Wait, the blob-- I mean, boy...who gave me a ticket?”

You pondered curiously at the red-headed kid with fox-like features. You didn’t know his name, so you’d decided to dub him as Cherry Boy for now. Creative, yes.

“Yeah.” Johnny shifted his weight to one side, inclining his head just slightly. “Not all demons are born demons. A lot of them were once human, or...something else.”

A heavier sadness filled his eyes, a painful memory taking place beyond them. You didn’t like the way he’d said “something else”... You started to reach out for his hand, yet decided against it. You still didn’t know him that well.

You’d try to pry the truth out of him, gently. “Like...what?” you pressed softly.

He took a hefty breath, taking his time to single out two more of the demons you’d soon have the joy of getting to know. All in good time. “That one…and that one, over there.”

“Wait...the...tiger guy? And Freckles?” Your lips pursed. “What about them? They weren’t human?”

Johnny shook his head. “They, uh…” There was an uncomfortably long pause. His next words were so quiet, you really had to strain your ears to hear them, despite the fact he was right beside you: “...fell.”

“...Fell?”

It rolled off your tongue like a stone. Johnny began to sweat. “...From grace. They fell from grace.” He rubbed the back of his neck with equal discomfort. “It’s not something I enjoy talking about. Basically, they were tricked and dragged down to earth and…” he swallowed. “Well, one was dragged, but he’d made the mistake of giving his consent beforehand. He was fooled into a false contact. The other, he was simply fooled into coming down willingly, by use of twisted words. When the song played...it was over.”

Song? There was music? …

…A swaying sickness of dread rushed past along the seasonal breeze. “So...you...knew them…?”

There was no answer for a long time. Johnny cleared his throat to break the uncomfortable silence, once the situation inside was beginning to look grim. Like it hadn’t already.

“...Sort of. We were never close, being in different factions and all.”

“Factions?”

“Never mind that. You ask too many questions.” He nodded once more. “Look.”

You turned your head to peek back inside at one of the many sights you wished you could avoid and forget about entirely. (But alas, there was no way that was happening.) The girl with the white soul was now screaming in agony, and the strings that had previously been attached to her by the boys (...men? Demons?) were glowing red, then a bright, crystal blue…

And then you just knew. It was impossible to miss.

She was gone.

The ringleader of the troupe, who the others had called Chan, paced closer to the girl, tucking a finger beneath her chin and lifting her drooping head gently, with such twistedly sickening love and care that was the largest paradox of the century-- how could it be both so loving, yet so dark?-- and dragged it carefully upward, caressing her face. His voice was as soft as silk.

“My little puppet, are you okay?”

You wanted to throw up and pass out right then and there, but Johnny held you firm again, sending his soothing pulses of comfort and security to steady you (and honestly, what a great power to have). You didn’t like it when the leader spoke. It was too...something. Just too much; it reminded you of fairytales like Snow White and Red Riding Hood, where a witch or a wolf or whoever would speak so sweetly, so kindly, and yet tear the other characters apart, ripping the rug out from under them and dragging up their virtues from the inside out. Just as Johnny had said. You could see how anyone could get lost in the distorted forest it was so easily...

A twisted grin appeared on the face of the Snow-White girl, a cacophony of psychotic laughter leaving her rose-tinted lips.

“Yes, Master Chan. I am perfectly fine.”

You shuddered at those words. It was all you could take.

You didn’t know what came over you next, but there were suddenly twenty-seven different emotions flooding through your veins, hyping you up and tearing you down all at once. And you’d already had your time of the month last week, so that definitely wasn’t it.

Was this it? Were you finally transforming into the Sailor Guardian Johnny had made you out to be? You wanted nothing more than to run in there, tell all those demonic freakshows what they could do with their fancy clothes and beautiful but terrifying faces, and make a 180 to the nearest hospital with the girl in tow.

...You also wanted to turn around and run for the hills alone, with Johnny perhaps, never stepping foot on demonic carnival soil ever again. And, you also kinda wanted to puke; which you almost did, again, but thankfully Johnny whipped up some more of whatever calming magic he’d been pumping you full of almost the entire time you were here, and that chased off the sickness for another while. The two of you stepped away from the tent, Johnny assisting you to fresh (only-partially tainted) air.

“...S-So, let me get this straight…” You shook all the goosebumps out, holding your head high and proud now that you had a bit more distance between certain death and crazytown. “You want me-- me-- a normal [high school/college] girl, to go in there and...what, take down the demons? Are you serious? Is this really happening? What the heck am I supposed to do, threaten to call the police? Throw a sucker punch and hope it lands and I don’t get killed or possessed?! ...Don’t they write fantasy books and fanfiction about this kind of crap?” You sighed. “There’s no way I can--”

“Hush,” Johnny instructed, looking a bit nervously toward the terrifying mass inside. You were speaking too loudly again. “You can and you will. I didn’t just choose you at random, all of this was planned by a greater power upstairs.”

“Greater…?” ...You squinted your eyes in suspicion. “Are you talking about--”

“Most likely, yes, that’d be the one,” he winked. “Actually, my boss sent me. I sorta picked you out last minute, but you have a pure heart, and your soul is good too. You have what it takes, as long as you keep your guard up and follow my instructions, we can and will take these guys out.” He gave a thumbs up. “Sound good?”

Sound good?! ...Oh, yes. Risking my life in an insane zero-chance scenario sounds right up my alley, bro man! Sign me up!

You let out a frustrated groan, beginning to pull and mess with your hair, and Johnny once again shushed you and peered around in a tizzy. “But...I don’t even know what to do!” You put your foot down. “I can’t fight! And I...I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”

That last part had come out pretty weak. Johnny scoffed. “You don’t wanna hurt demons?” He rolled his eyes, scratching his head. “That’s a bit surprising.”

You scowled. He just chuckled and sighed.

“Relax. You’re not totally obliterating them.” He smiled, and the next words he spoke actually brought music to your ears...sort of. Good music.

“You’re going to save them.”

“I’m...huh?!”

“Look.” He leaned against a smaller tent behind him, making himself rather comfortable for the case scenario, and your mind suddenly wandered back to that girl inside the main tent. Was this really the time to be having an idle-- semi-kinda-serious-- chat? “I’m sorry I can’t be with you the entire time. Unfortunately that would get in the way of a lot of character development. But I’ll always be nearby.”

“Character...who...wha? ...” Your hands covered your face a moment, to which you sighed heavily into before holding them out before you. “Johnny, okay, hold on--”

“Here,” he said, tossing something shiny into the air. You caught it unexpectedly, nearly dropping it a few times as it almost slipped through careless fingers. You stared at it hard and skeptically.

“What...is this?”

It was some kind of...whistle? “Blow into that when you need help, and I’ll come to you. But only if it’s a real emergency; it’s not a toy, yeah?”

“......” You beheld him with dumbfounded incredibility, face remaining stoic in blank confusion. “...So it’s like...a dog whistle?” You blinked. “You’re my dog now?”

“Ahem,” He coughed, clearing his throat. “...I’d prefer if you didn’t call it that, but, ...yeah, I guess. Essentially. I guess that’s an accurate analogy.”

“...No way.” The whistle went flying over your shoulder as you turned your back, beginning to take the first few much needed steps out of looney-toon central toward the safety of home. In the direction you thought was homebound. “This is insane. I can’t do it. I’m going to a payphone or home or someplace I can get a signal and calling 911--”

...But of course, a six foot wall had to ruin your dramatic and much needed escape. “Hold on…” Tuxedo Mask sighed. “Look, I won’t stop you again if you really want to go, okay? But if you do, these guys are going to continue running around rampat and steal away thousands of more innocent lives. And that girl will never be the same ever again.”

The scowl you sent him actually made him flinch a bit, though he held his ground nonetheless. “Then why don’t you and all the other angels and heavenly powers do something about it!?”

“SHHH!” Covering your mouth, he looked left, then right before releasing you, gritting his teeth in anger. “...Because...dang it, we can’t, okay?”

...He can’t?

“Why not?”

“......” He ran a troubled hand through his neatly groomed hair. “...I mean, we can, but...we’re not allowed to influence freewill or get involved without human intervention. That’s you. It’s complicated, okay? Just...please.”

...W h a t ?

You didn’t understand any of this. He was giving you the most heartbreaking gaze anyone had ever managed to pull off on the face of the planet; like he’d just witnessed you step on a litter of puppies, or you’d taken his heart and stomped all over it and then backed over it with a steamroller, declaring that boys had cooties and you didn’t want to be infected.

“Please think about it. There’s not much time.”

“.............”

You sighed. A long time had passed, but...every second you wasted thinking about it was a second closer to someone else’s demise, to that girl’s apparent destruction. If it wasn’t too late already.

It’s not your problem, y/n, it’s not your problem…

...Except now, it was. You’d already gotten involved just by being here, and witnessing what you had. Your conscience would never let you live that down, were you to walk away, even if it was to get the police or the fire department or an ambulance. Not if you had the power to do something about it.

And what were any of them going to do about it, anyway? These were demons you were dealing with, not stereotypical robbers or serial killers. And even if you were just a girl...

Curse it all. DANG IT!! 😫

“...” You gulped. “...You swear you’ll protect me if I need you? And you’re not going to abandon me?”

He smiled. Yet again. “I try not to swear, but...you have my word.” He placed a hand over his heart, bowing slightly as an old-fashioned gentleman would. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t help admiring his indication and be just a bit flattered.

“And you promise I can really do this? ...Like, you...really need me for this?”

The angel’s eyes sparkled softly beneath the eerily pale moonlit atmosphere. That blood red sky hanging somewhere beneath a sheet of stars and night. “That, I can promise.” He stood up straight, readjusting his thick coat. “Boss called, said you were the one. Or, at least, you would do. I called before confronting you, to make sure.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You mean before magically materializing beside me and scaring me half to death?”

The accursed man laughed. “Yeah, before that.”

“Hnnn…” Your eyes closed. Thought for a moment.

Then you held out your palm. “...Fine, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll help. Just call me Buffy the...Demon Slayer,” you joked, smirking at your own dumb humor. “Sailor...Y/n? ...Ugh, just give me the stupid whistle.”

Tuxedo Mask smirked again, holding it up for you. But as soon as he placed it in your hand, something...odd happened. Other than all the chaos and oddities that had been occurring for the past however-many hours or so.

A soft, hollow “boom” echoed in the surrounding atmosphere, and you found yourself looking around wildly for any means of nuclear warfare, cringing into the rising darkness. “What the heck was that?!”

“Calm down. That was meant for you. No one else could hear it,” your new guidance counselor explained. Something almost sinister washed over him for one so...holy. “It means that the game has officially begun.”

“Game?!” You practically screeched. “I thought this was serious! What do you mean, game?”

Johnny continued to smirk. “Oh, it’s serious alright.” He adjusted his coat again, turning his back to you. “We need to get you somewhere safe for the night. DON’T worry about that girl, she’s going to be fine...for now. Eventually,” he’d cut you off. “You can start whenever, but you’re probably going to want at least an hour to adjust and come up with a strategy.”

“What?! Hold it, I still have questions I--”

A stray finger waved to you over his fleeting shoulder. “Follow me. Stay close now.”

You just stood there, gaping like a fish again. A reoccurring theme to this story, you'll soon find out. “Johnny...Johnny!”

...You’d had no choice but to follow him; and so the game had officially begun.

Boom. Game on. ✩

~ ☽✮☾ ~

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internethorrorfan · 6 years ago

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Commentarypasta: A Meet I'll Never Forget (originally posted on Deviantart in 2017)

The creepypasta fandom is known being particularly cringeworthy. From all the terrible OCs out there to the lame music videos to the frankly pathetic film attempts to, of course, the fanfiction. So boils and ghouls, allow me to introduce you to something I like to call: Commentarypasta! In Commentarypasta I'll take a look at some of the worst stories the CP fandom has to offer in order to find one that's even remotely entertaining while I give my commentary on the . Most of them will come from Wattpad but this particular tale came to us from some site called Creepypasta.xyz. I've never heard of it either. Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story... A Meet I'll Never Forget by Meganthekillerforever. CHAPTER 1: I was sitting in my room reading Creepypastas online. I'm sorry, who are you? Could we get some establishing please? I love all of the Creepypasta stories, including Jeff, Slendy, Slenderman doesn't have an official creepypasta since he wasn't created for creepypasta. Ticci Toby, and more. I was always bad at acting good. Spoilers: This fact is never mentioned again and has no relevance to anything at all. I hated my neighbors Why? For what reason? Who the hell are your neighbors and why should we care? We don't even know our protagonist's name and your telling us about her neighbors? and hoped Smile Dog would finish them off. You've never read Smile Dog have you? I was always sending a picture of him to them at night, but to my disappointment they called my parents the very next day. My parents didn’t care though, thank goodness for that, and my older brother just ignored me like most brothers do to their younger sisters. They didn’t care what I did. My father was a writer and my mom was an artist. My brother was already making plans to go to college. I'm sure all these things will be entirely relevant pieces of information that will pay off later in the story. One night I decided to go out into the woods to see if I could find Slenderman.( I know…childish right?) Well that was me always trying to prove that they were real. Now, time and time again I tried to see if Ben It's BEN. was real, but when I played Majora’s Mask nothing ever happened to me. That's because he only haunted (past tense) Jadusable's specific copy of Majora's Mask that he got from the Old Man. Jadusable put files from the cartridge into his computer allowing BEN to escape into it, and later Jadusable uploaded footage from the game onto Youtube which allowed BEN to escape into the internet. You must not have paid very close attention to these stories if you're getting all these things wrong. So, I figured that all the Creepypasta stories were fake. I still like to find out for myself though. As I went out the door, You were going out the door? Thanks for establishing that. Can we have some details to anything please? I called to my parents and told them I would be gone for a while. I heard my dad typing away on his typewriter and my mom getting extra paint from the storage closet. “Okay. Be back before breakfast.” “Okay Mom.” I rolled my eyes. We're a paragraph into this thing and I already want our main character to die. This doesn't bode well.

Since my mom is an artist, she always has some extra paint lying around. I grabbed some glow in the dark paint before I left and went outside. I gathered some rocks from the garden and a flashlight from the shed. I felt like someone was watching me, Thanks I thought we could use some more clichés. so I shone the flashlight in the darkest parts of the shed just to be sure. I grabbed the glow in the dark paint and started painting the rocks with it. When I was sure they were dry I gathered them in a bag and set off for the woods. Oh that's the pay off to her mom being an artist! So our still nameless protagonist could paint rocks with glow in the dark paint and light her lay through the woods. Or, you know, she could have only used the flashlight. As I made my way into the woods, I started setting down glow in the dark rocks. You've got a flashlight, you don't need the rocks. I continued to explore until I found a large flat rock that I made into a resting place. I was getting tired. "I'm so exhausted from all the nothing I've been doing!" “I guess there’s no harm in resting for a few minutes.” Just go home. As I started to doze off, a rustling noise woke me up. I darted straight up and looked at my watch. “Oh no! I was planning on being home an hour ago! I lost track of time!” Which is why you should have just gone home instead of randomly taking a nap on a rock. The rustling continued as I started back on the path of rocks. I started to grow fearful as the rustling noise got louder and closer. I always keep a pocket knife with me at all times. Why? I pulled it out and turned around ready to confront whoever it was, but when I turned around I found none other than Slenderman himself. As I stared, I found that there was someone behind him, no two people. A man in a white hoodie and a man in a black hoodie wearing a blue mask. So Slenderman gets no description but Jeff and Eyeless Jack do? Consistency: it's not a polite suggestion. I had come face to face with Slendy, Quit calling him Slendy. Jeff, and Eyeless Jack! I was so shocked that I was at a loss for words. That's it? She doesn't shiver, shake, try to run away, use the knife to defend herself or anything? She's just at a loss for words? Being at a loss for words is the reaction you get after reading fics like this, not after coming across several supposedly fictional monsters/killers. Finally after a while, Jeff spoke. “As you probably already know my name is Jeff, Jeff the Killer.” What person talks this way? "Oh hi my name is Martin, Martin the janitor. How are you?". I nodded, still not being able to say anything. “This here’s Slenderman and that’s Eyeless Jack.” I finally work up the nerve to speak. “W-what brings y-you to me?” That's your first response? Not asking "how are you real?" or better yet, running away in terror? This time Eyeless Jack speaks. “Well, we’ve been watching you for a while now.” Because....? “Why me?” Good question. “Slendy here thinks you’d make a good proxy. What has this girl possibly done to make Slenderman think she'd be a good proxy? Did she win him over with her amazing one of a kind ability to read horror stories on the internet? Me on the other hand thinks you look kinda weak. Jeff’s thinking the same thing.” “W-why would you want me? I’ve never killed anyone.” Every person that thinks creepypasta is just about killing people needs to be lobotomized. "Jeff spoke up. “Well, I guess that’s going to change tonight.” Jeff smiled wider than usual. As I just stood there dumbfounded Jeff started to lead me in a direction I knew well, back to my house. “You’re seriously not going to make me kill my family are you!?” No one's said anything remotely like that yet so unless nameless girl here can predict the future there's no way she could have known that they'll say that. Jeff started laughing. “You’ve read all of our stories haven’t you? How can creepypasta be a thing in this universe if all the popular creepypasta characters are real? They can't be fake and real at the same time. Well, in most of them our parents are either killed by us or something else. Spoilers: Jeff is the only character featured in this story that killed his parents. In order for you to become one of us, Creepypastas are stories not beings. Plus why do they want nameless protagonist to join them anyway? you have to get them outta the way.” Spoilers: Sally's in this story and Bloody Painter is mentioned. Both those characters have living parents. Is the author seriously under the impression that every creepypasta ever has dead parents in them? “And if I refuse?” “Well, now that you’ve seen us we’re probably going to kill you if you refuse.” Probably? “I-I’ll do it. WHAT?!? Are you kidding me? It takes that little to convince her to murder her family? Them saying they'd probably kill her instead? You wouldn't just straight up kill your parents with no second thoughts because someone said they'd kill you if you didn't. What about my brother?” “We kill him too of course! No witnesses.” He's not a witness if he doesn't see anything. I dread every step on the way back to my house. I enter the house silently, as to not alert them. I make my way into the kitchen and grab a steak knife. They're not around to see you do this. You could just warn them all and get the hell outta there. What happened to that knife you already had? My parents are usually in the study room working. I crept into the study hiding the knife behind my back. “Hey sweetie, back already?” "Hey sweetie, what is that knife shaped object you holding behind your back? You better not be trying to murder us again young lady!" I continued stepping closer gripping the knife hard behind my back. “Yep, I’m back.” Finally, when I was close enough to them I lunged at them with the knife and stabbed repeatedly. Because she'd definitely be able to do that with no effort at all. They twitched for a moment, but then they were still. I was wide eyed and gasping for breath when I finished. I heard clapping behind me. Jeff was standing there. “Very well done. Slendy didn’t even have to get into your mind like he did Toby.” “That��actually felt good. Yeah, let's do what the creepypasta fandom does best: glorify the murder of innocent people! What, you're not going to tell us about the "rush" you get from killing or how fun and exciting it is? What about my brother?” “I took care of him. I haven’t killed in a whole day and I was itching to kill someone.” I just watched my parent’s lifeless bodies for a while before Slenderman came to get me. This character has shown no previous signs of sociopathic personality disorder, psychopathy, psychosis, or any other mental disorder that might possibly make her Ok with killing people. She shouldn't be so nonchalant about everything. Since he didn’t have a face he didn’t talk much. I don't even need to point out why this line is moronic do I? Slenderman beckoned for me to follow. I followed him outside where Jeff and Eyeless Jack were waiting. “Well kid, welcome to the family.” CHAPTER 2: After I killed my family, After that minor insignificant easily forgotten event of stabbing my parents to death with a steak knife. Slendy teleported us to what looked like an old, run down mansion. I stared in disbelief at the beautiful mansion. The last sentence said it was old and run down. Now it's beautiful? OK then. “I thought the mansion was just a legend!” Jeff started speaking. “Nope, it’s real kid.” They led me into the mansion where the other pastas were waiting. What other pastas? You gonna tell us who they are? They all looked at me and stared. I started to get nervous with all the attention on me. A boy I knew to be Ben BEN's a statue in a video game, not a "boy". started asking questions. “Who’s that? Why have you brought a human here? Jeff is human. So are Bloody Painter, Hoodie and Masky, all of whom are mentioned later in the story (spoilers like you care at all). Does she like games?” Will this fandom ever realize Pasta Monsters is not an accurate representation of who BEN is? Seriously. Eyeless Jack interrupted his questions. “This is a new edition to the family. If you have any questions about her, ask her yourself.” They started crowding around me with questions. Because you're just so likable and interesting that of course these people would bombard you with questions the first second they lay eyes upon you. Thanks a lot EJ. I’m not the type of person who loves crowds. Your whole family was just murdered, two of them by your own hand, and a minute later you're in a mansion in the woods with a bunch of monsters, serial killers, supernatural beings and other horror characters you previously thought to be fictional. Stop acting like this is completely normal. “SIT DOWN AND RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU HAVE A QUESTION!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs. They all sat back down and raised their hands hesitantly. Because again, you're just so likable and interesting that they have no choice but to listen to someone they've never met before. “Ben.” “Do you like games?” “I love games Ben.” “How do you know my name?” I had forgotten to tell them that I’ve read all of their stories and seen pictures of them online. “Oh yeah. I forgot to mention that I’ve read all of your stories.” Ha ha no you haven't. They were very surprised. To learn that people have written stories about them. I'd be surprised. Sally spoke up. “All of them?” I thought she was cute. It was hard to imagine an 8 year old girl as a killer. That's because she's not a killer. Good God people it takes five minutes to search up her old ref sheet with all her info on it. But to save anyone the trouble here it is: Sally - Official Profile. “Yes Sally, even yours.” I smiled at her. She smiled back at me. Because of course Sally and our protagonist instantly get attached to one another and become inseperable best friends/family figures to each other. How else are we going to lazily boost our protagonist's ego and get the reader to like her? “Yes, Offenderman.” Offenderman didn't say anything. Also why is a rapist part of the quote unquote "family"? Especially with Sally around. Offenderman smirked and pulled out a rose. “Would you like a rose?” He extended it out to me. “Nope.” “But, why!?” “Because like I just said, I’ve read all of your stories. I know what happens when you give a rose to someone.” Offenderman frowned and mumbled under his breath. The others laughed. “ The sex offender doesn't get to rape anyone today! So funny! Betcha Sally really got a kick outta that one! Okay who’s next?” “Ooh me! Me!” Jeff practically yelled. How does one "practically" yell something? I laughed at his persistence. “Yes, Jeff.” “Do you like knives? And what is your opinion on killing?” Not every creepypasta OC is a killer or needs to kill. Nobody died in Ben Drowned and there was never any danger of anyone dying. At least not from BEN physically killing them. “If I had to choose a weapon, I would definitely choose a knife. My second choice would be a pistol. As for killing, I don’t really mind it, especially when they deserve it.” Oh piss off. The only people you've killed are your parents who you only killed because this story is lazy and stupid. You are in absolutely no position whatsoever to be giving an opinon on murder or what your preferred weapons are. Hoodie seemed to be satisfied that my second option would be a pistol. You're dead Brian. “LJ.” LJ laughed and stood up. “Do you like candy?” I should have known that was coming. No you shouldn't have because Laughing Jack is capable of thinking about things that aren't candy. “Yes LJ, I love candy.” “Would you like some candy?” “No thank you. Polite pass.” LJ looked kind of hurt when I declined, but he tried to hide it with a smile. I felt bad for declining it, but I still didn’t fully trust them yet. I wanted to get to know them first before I accepted anything from them. You murdered your own parents in cold blood to join them. You don't get to be weary around them. I must have zoned out, Thinking about what? How uneventful everything is? because Jeff was waving his hand in front of my face trying to get my attention. “Hello? Anyone in there?” Oh! I’m sorry. I guess I just spaced out.” EJ decided that was enough questions. “Alright, I think that’s enough questions for today.” I was getting very tired. I yawned loudly and rubbed my eyes. Everyone turned to look at me. Everyone was wondering where I would sleep. Why does anyone care? Sally spoke up with excitement in her voice. Much like us, Sally knows absolutely nothing at all about our main character so she has no reason to give a damn about her at all. Sally's an attention seeking prankster who gets jealous easily and cries and throws tantrums every time she doesn't get her way. She'd be one of the people most against a new person, not most for. “She can sleep in my room! I have an extra bed in there.” Because as we all know, ghosts need to sleep. All the others agreed. Masky Hey Tim how's it goin'? Still not a creepypasta character? Sounds great. spoke up this time. “Yeah, just until we get a room fixed up for her.” Because Mary Sue sure does deserve a room all to herself. Why doesn't she share a room with Sally permanently? “Thank you Sally. I’m very grateful.” I was relieved somewhat, because I didn’t want to be rude. I still didn’t trust them yet. You already said that. I followed Sally to her room. Her door was decorated with bloody pink flowers. When we got inside the room, I saw that her walls were a pale pink with blood splatters. Because an 8 year old girl who likes stuffed animals, tea parties, cute things and stereotypical "girly" stuff would obviously decorate their room with blood splatters. You still sure you've read all their stories, miss Thekillerforever? Plus blood smells. Hanging on her walls were many drawn pictures of the Creepypasta family. WHAT CREEPYPASTA FAMILY?!? You've told us nothing about this supposed "family" or what characters are a part of it! We know Masky, Hoodie, Slenderman, Jeff, EJ, LJ, Sally, BEN, and Offenderman but that's because you just plopped them into this story with no set up at all! We don't know who's part of the family! Quit acting like we do! And where is Toby? This story's referenced him twice now and he hasn't shown up! She was a very good artist for an 8 year old. “You’re a very good artist. Those pictures are amazing!” I don't think many 8 year olds are"very good" artists. But this is a crepypasta fanfiction so Sally has to be portrayed as an absolutely perfect flawless shining paragon of humanity that always gets what she wants and is instantly loved by every life form on Earth because she's just so "cute". Our main character's already a Sue, we don't need you to change other people's characters into Sues too. Sally smiled at my words. “Thank you. I’m not as good as Bloody Painter Because she would obviously refer to Helen by his serial killer alias instead of his actual real name. though. He’s the best artist here. Here’s the bed you will be sleeping on. Why does Sally even have one bed, let alone two? I’m so happy to have someone sleeping in my room with me! The only one who comes over sometimes is Lazari.” Who I'm sure this author know nothing about. Given the track record so far I wouldn't be surprised if the author thought 8 year old Lazari murdered innocent people with knives for the lolz. I feel bad for Sally. It must get so lonely in here by herself. Out of these retarded Slender Mansion stories, THIS is the one that figures out a little kid living in a gigantic mansion with almost exclusively grown men would get lonely? “After my room is finished I could sleep over sometimes.” You're sleeping in her room now. What are you talking about? Sally smiled and looked at me with hope in her eyes. “Really?” YOU JUST MET THIS PERSON, YOU SHOULD NOT BE THIS ATTACHED! “Really.” “And will you play with me?” I smiled warmly at her. “Absolutely.” YOU JUST MET THIS PERSON SO YOU SHOULDN'T BE THIS ATTACHED EITHER! And if you two are this attached already, why not just share the room permanently? She jumped up and down with excitement. Can ghosts jump? “Yay! I can’t wait!” “Would you like me to tuck you in and read you a story Sally?” No she wouldn't like you to tuck her in because she's a ghost and ghosts can't sleep. Who said she wanted to go to bed anyway? “Yes please! I would like to listen to a story about your family if you don’t mind.” "You know, that family you murdered an hour ago with no remorse or guilt whatsoever?" “It’s fine. "I've already completely forgotten about stabbing them to death, almost like it was pointless or something!" I’ll tell you about the time we got a puppy.” Sally eagerly got into her bed. Which she probably doesn't need since she has no physical body. “I love puppies! They’re so cute.” This chapter started off with the line "after I killed my family". “One day I was sitting in my room playing with my dolls How old were you when this happened? Scratch that, how old are you now? and my parents were excited about something. I walked out of my room to my parents’ room You could have just said "I walked to my parent's room." because you already said you were in your room, we can tell that you walked out through context clues. to see what they were talking about. When I asked them, they both shouted that we were getting a puppy. I was so happy I ran around the house squealing with excitement. My parents would have straight up told me I wasn't getting anything if I kept running around the house squealing. My parents decided to let me pick the dog. I ran into the pet store checking out all of the dogs. I set my sights on the cutest chocolate brown puppy with short floppy ears. He had the most beautiful brown eyes. And he was just as sweet as can be. This is a fanfiction based off creepypasta, a genre of internet horror stories frequently about madness, tradgedy and the terrors of the unknown, and the second chapter is concluding...with our main character telling bedtime stories about cute puppies to a little girl. Wow. We decided from that day, to call him Brownie.” Where's Brownie now? Given the level of intelligence you've displayed in this I wouldn't be surprised if you ate him thinking he was an actual brownie. When I finished my story, That wasn't about your family at all. I looked over to find Sally fast asleep. I ask this question a lot regarding fanfictions with Sally in them but does this author even know Sally is a ghost? Or does she somehow think ghosts can sleep? If these stories ever offered an explanation as to how Sally can do these things that'd be fine. But they never do so it doesn't make any sense. I chuckled and got into my own bed. I had one last thought as I fell asleep, ‘I wonder what tomorrow will bring.’ Nothing because this story was deleted by the author. Thank God. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Well that was dull and uneventful. This story's only two chapters long but those two chapters are some of the most boring things I've ever read in my life. Pretty much nothing at all happened in them other than our bland unnamed protagonist murdering her family for pretty much no reason, but that's almost immediately glossed over and swept under the rug to get to more pressing matters like telling bedtime stories about cute puppies. Our main character is such an obvious self insert Mary Sue and she doesn't even get the luxury of a name let alone a personality. The closest thing I got out of her character was stupidity but that's only because the writing was so botched it made her look like an airhead who was completely unaffected by everything around her. "A Meet I'll Never Forget" feels like it was written by a 10 year old due to the almost complete lack of detail to anything. As of this writing the story's been deleted so this is the only place to find it. So with this story out of the way join me next time for...something less boring and forgettable.

#old stuff from my deviantart

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