#arthur rimbaud x reader

[tillyalf427]

Verlaine+Rimbaud x reader nsfw headcannons 18+

Notes : so I read through literally every verlaine and rimbaud x reader on here AGAIN last night and there's not nearly enough out there so uhhh...here have this 😂

Please read the warnings, I'm not 100% sure how tagging works on Tumblr anymore so read at your own discretion, most warnings are only brief but I thought I'd include them anyway!

Warnings: nsfw, bondage, choking, soft dom Verlaine, oral sex, praise kink, hickeys, fingering, riding, vaginal sex, sadism, edging, oral fixation, blowjobs, threesome, female terms used for reader

- Okay but soft dom Verlaine who loves the thought of the amount of control he has over both himself and the reader.

- So like when he's asked to choke them he loves how much control and precision is needed to use the right amount of pressure and not take things too far

It reminds him of his job as that also requires precise skills.

- Or when he ties you up with ropes criss-crossing over your skin, the process of tugging you to your knees by the ropes wound around your arms sends a jolt of electricity through his skin

- Let him hold onto your arms where they're bound behind your back whilst he fucks you and he'll go absolutely feral.

- Isn't a fan of gags because he wants to hear you and hear how much you're enjoying it, how else would he know when he's doing a good job?

- He needs validation!! Whether it's in the form of you moaning, or the garbled words that escape your mouth, he doesn't mind

- Potential praise kink anyone?

- Please he needs all the love in the world, tell him he's your good boy

- His favourite place to leave marks is probably your neck, he loves it when you can't hide them underneath your clothes, call him possessive if you must

- Likes to bite across your collar bones because he thinks they're pretty

- Isn't all that confident with eating you out or stretching you open because he's always afraid of hurting you

- But if you want him to he's more than happy to let you ride his face

- And fucking yourself onto his fingers drives him absolutely wild

- It gives him the little ego boost he needs to start scissoring his fingers, eventually slipping a third finger inside you before continuing where he left off

- Most the time he would be fairly quiet however, most often he would let out small grunts and quiet moans in between heavy breaths

-And sadist Rimbaud who loves nothing more than to tease and torture you until you're begging him to do anything.

- This man eats pussy like it's his job

- He'll happily spend hours edging you with both his tongue and his fingers, stretching you open slowly with a lazy smile.

- Pull his hair a little and he will lose it

- Rimbaud with an oral fixation anyone?

- Anyway

- His favourite place to leave marks is your thighs and hips, he loves to see the red marks blooming on your inner thighs and seeing the way his hand marks wrap around your hips.

-He probably has pretty long fingers which he uses to his advantage to tease and finger you

-Loves to watch you riding him, seeing the way your thighs tremble from the effort and the pleasure

- Every now and then he rolls his hips up as well just to see you gasp and tremble

- Try not to flinch when his cold fingers trail across your skin otherwise he'd take full advantage and finger you when his hands are freezing cold, watching you arch away from the strange sensation as your warmth surrounded his fingers.

- He would always end up flushed so pretty, pale skin warming up to a bright blush that travelled down his neck.

- His hair contrasts against it so nicely, falling around you and tickling with every movement.

And the pair of them together? Well...good luck 🤣

- Verlaine would hold you down against his chest whilst Rimbaud went to town with his tongue against your pussy

- Not only that but he would 100% use his ability, increasing the pressure of gravity on you until you could barely even wriggle.

- Both would make it their life's mission to cover you in marks, hickeys, bite marks, everything

- Nothing riles either of them up more than seeing finger shaped marks pressed into your hips when you're getting changed or when there's a mark too high on your neck for you to hide.

- Picture Verlaine tying Rimbaud's hands to the headboard, teasing him until you get home before encouraging you to sink down on Rimbaud's dick, riding him as he fell apart beneath you.

- Verlaine would tease Rimbaud's mouth, pressing his dick down his throat as you bounced on his cock.

- Or Rimbaud ordering Verlaine to fuck you whilst he sits and watches, cock in his hand and praises rolling off his tongue.

- Unless Verlaine happens to come without permission then he'll stand up, fingers tangling in Verlaine's hair to tilt his head back, whispering in his ear with a harsh bite to the skin there.

- He forces Verlaine to eat you out with his own release still dripping out of you.

- Fucking after a mission when you're all wine-drunk and tipsy, making everything sloppy and messy from the lack of coordination between the three of you.

-wet kisses and it's just generally fairly messy as you all tangle together

- And if for whatever reason you have a mission where you have to seduce the target, you may not be able to walk once the three of you get home.

- They both get jealous, irritation itching beneath their skin despite the knowledge that it was only for a mission.

- The sex that night would be rough, all harsh movements, biting and firm hands holding you in place however, once they were done with you, the softness would return.

- Between them they'd help you get cleaned up, running a bath for you and helping to wash the sweat and grime off your body, fingers tangling in damp hair as one of them rubbed shampoo in before taking the shower head to rinse the bubbles out.

- Then once you were dried you'd quickly be bundled up in their arms back in bed, soft words and kisses being passed around

- And if you happen to not be in the mood one day? No worries they'll work it out amongst themselves, giving you the option to watch if you're up for it.

- And quite frankly it's intriguing to watch the dynamic between the two of them on their own just as much as it is to be between the two of them.

- Seeing the way Verlaine submits fully to Rimbaud sends a shock of pleasure through you and uncovers the urge to have Verlaine in that position yourself

- Or seeing how Verlaine pressed Rimbauds legs up against his chest whilst fucking into him filled you with the perfect ideas on how to tease him to completion in the future.

- Overall, the pair of them are probably pretty good to you in bed, they both have strong personalities and motivations so there would likely be occasional times when they clash with each other

- But if they do just tie them both to the headboard with vibrators against their dicks and tease them for hours on end 😉

[ananiel]

The God era has fallen a long time ago. Many names were lost in time, along with their greatness and wealth.

The only ones that remained were the ones that could be associated with historical things and other religions.

You knew them all, or at least, most of them. After all , You mother herself was one of those that were forgotten, and let's not talk about your father, who everyone knows but forgets about at the same time.

Your mother was the goddess of nightmares, your father the one and only god of reality

Now, the titles were revoked from your parents a long while ago, which means that You aren't a Goddess anymore, but You could be considered one of the most powerful witches. Your powers are based on those of Your parents, which means You could transform horrible nightmare like creatures to reality. Monsters under the bed, big spiders, people from the past with a more deranged personality, You name it.

Of course, in the witch world, You are very respected for your abilities (feared as well) but to the people that don't have powers think You are a crazy woman with a rather sinister look and a raven that hisses at people (sometimes with a cat that caws too) even if You were of a rather young age

One day You were reading alongside your pet a fantasy book at the local library when he observed You from a distance

“that's not how magic works” You mumble and the crow nods

“oh, and how are you so sure?” he asks as he sits down next to you

You don't respond to that, which he finds interesting to say the least

He quickly grew interested and when he wanted to ask around about You, he soundly faced a problem he didn't think would occur : everyone described You differently.

Now he clearly was interested in finding out everything he can about You, after all, if You were just what he expected, he could use your powers to make his plans so much easier

But no, You were too smart for that. No matter how much he tries, he can’t make You do what he wants, You never fall for his words. And truth be told, he found that at the end of the night when he replayed all of your conversations in his head, he was being played by You

And gods above, how he started to like it, like it so much that the next time he saw You, he brought a little present with him, one taht he knew You have never seen before:

The limbs of the suitors You had. And to your horror, he threw them around the house, your house, in all the places your creatures were hidding, even giving one to your crow that was actually one of your most trusted nightmares hidden behind a harmless form

You didn't know how he figured it out, but looking into his eyes, seeing that crazed looked made You sure of something : he was the nightmare that became reality for you

[thelovelywriteress]

SOUL OR BODY?

─ Arthur Rimbaud (Leonardo DiCaprio)

────────────────────────────

────────────────────────────

Paul had leaned over the table that night, eyes glazed from too much absinthe, his words slurred, but his curiosity sharp as ever.

“So, Arthur,” Paul asked, a wicked grin playing on his lips, “you ever even seen her body? Your finance, I mean.” He chuckled darkly, half-mocking, half-goading, like he always did when he felt Arthur needed to be pushed.

Arthur, in his drunken haze, smiled back. A sadistic gleam flickered in his eyes, a reflection of the reckless man he had become. He tilted his head as if considering Paul’s question seriously.

“Seen her body, Paul?” Arthur mused, his voice low and taunting. “I’ve seen something more. Her true self—something more profound than the physical or sensual."

Paul stared at him, a bit stunned by the reply, and Arthur laughed—a cold, hollow sound—dismissing the moment with a wave of his hand.

But the memory that followed was no laughing matter.

Arthur had been at his desk, papers strewn around him in a mess of incoherent thoughts, words failing him for the first time in what felt like forever. Arthur had been at his desk, papers strewn around him in a mess of incoherent thoughts, words failing him for the first time in what felt like forever.

You noticed his confused rage while most of time you preferred to ignore his tactics, this time it looked he was affected internally.

You were concerned for him.

“Arthur,” you said, your voice steady but with an undercurrent of concern. “Are you okay?”

He snapped. It wasn’t like the other times when he would simply tease her, this was something deeper, more vicious, a reflection of the frustration burning inside him.

"Why do you care?" he snaps, throwing the quill down onto the desk. His voice is laced with irritation, his anger barely concealed. "You wouldn't understand. You never do."

Your eyes narrow slightly, but you didn't back away. "I’m trying to understand, Arthur. If you would just talk to me—"

"Talk?" He stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He paces, running a hand through his hair, as if the physical act might untangle the knot in his chest. "I can’t ‘talk.’ That’s the problem, isn’t it? I can’t say what I’m feeling, I can’t put it into words!" He gestures to the blank page, his voice rising with every word. "I can write about anything—love, lust, rebellion, chaos—but this—" He stops, his hands curling into fists. "This… whatever it is, this thing I feel, it slips away every time I try to grasp it. To understand materialistic or spiritualistic, what matters to me, what should matter to a human."

"Then find it now." You state as Arthur was suprised at your confidence. What makes you think you can help him to put those mysteriously feelings into words.

Before he could respond, you moved toward the bedroom, your footsteps light but deliberate. Without a word, you walked in, leaving the door slightly open as if daring him to follow.

Arthur, still reeling from his outburst, hesitated for a moment, but curiosity—and perhaps something else—compelled him forward. As he entered the room his eyes fall on the trail of clothes going further into room before they finally stop on your body that was still in the process of removing your tight clothing.

Your dress slipping off your shoulders, revealing the undergarments that still clung to you frame. You untied you hair, letting it fall loose around her as you made a eye contact with him. Your expression neutral, detached, as if this were nothing more than another intellectual exercise. You didn’t fully undress; a mere layer of fabric still clung to your body, enough to cover you, but not enough to hide the intimacy of the moment.

Arthur stood frozen in the doorway, caught off guard by your calm audacity. It looked like you were offering yourself—physically, yes—but there was something more, something deeper in your eyes. Something he had never understood before now.

You moved to the chaise longue, laying on it in a fancy position, your eyes never leaving his. “Write, Arthur,” you said softly. “Write whatever you feel right now.”

For once, Arthur didn’t argue. He didn’t mock or tease. He swallowed his nervousness and walked toward his desk, grabbed a pen, and sat down, staring at your figure in front of him.

Despite the suggestive nature of your actions, despite the vulnerability of your pose, all he could see—really see—was the bravery of your soul. The one who didn't even like breathing same air, was the one laying in front of him, giving him all sorts of freedom.

You had stripped yourself of more than clothes in that moment. You had laid bare your pride, your control, and your fear. And yet, there was no shame in your gaze, no fear of his judgment. You were telling him to see you, not as a body, not even as a muse, but as a human being—someone who stood on equal ground with him.

Arthur’s hand moved across the paper, but his mind wasn’t on your body. His thoughts weren’t on lust or desire. Instead, all he could feel was a deep admiration—admiration for the strength it took for you to reveal yourself to him like this, to offer him her vulnerability in a way that transcended the physical.

He wrote furiously, the words pouring out of him for the first time in days, though not in the way he had expected.

When he finally looked up from the paper, you were still watching him, your expression unreadable, but there was something softer in your eyes now.

"I think I am done." He state in a nervous voice as you just lay in more comfortable postion than previous one.

"So what do you choice right now? Soul or body?" You asked as Arthur feels the weight of both choices. Either way things will be different from now.

"Just that?" Paul questioned as he felt Arthur once again left him on cliffhanger. You both sure shared some physical moment after this, didn't you? Like how can a man let a chance like this go but knowing Arthur he knew conclusion was left for his imagination.

[missy-0-piink]

Psst...

Psst...

Rimbaud (or Verlaine) and you filling both of verlaines (or Rimbauds) holes.

👹AHHAHAHAHAAH👹

You don’t know what you’ve done

Since I already wrote bottom verlaine threesome, I’ll make Rimbaud the bottom this time 😼

————

Rimbaud, the poor thing, was sobbing

Your big strap fucking into his sensitive ass while Verlaine drove his cock deep into his throat was driving him crazy

He couldn’t think, he could only feel

And you were having an amazing time

The sight of Rimbaud, a usually modest and dignified individual, laying on his back, cock hard and leaking as his body twitched and trembled from the force of your thrusts, and the way the bulge of verlaines cock appeared and disappeared in rimbauds throat in tandem with his thrusts, long hair strewn about?

It made you wild

Not to mention the sounds, the sobbing, choking and moaning, as well as the gagging noises made your imagination run wild with the images of how Rimbaud would be looking right now, if you could see him, that is

His head was tilted back, the perfect angle for Verlaine to have his way with him, but unlucky for you because you could only see the bottom of his jaw, chin and lips (which were all coated with precum and saliva, by the way)

And Verlaine was feral, he must’ve been pent up because he ragged breathing and moaning was only making both you and Rimbaud even more aroused

And you could see Verlaine,

His face flushed red, eyes half lidded as he seemed intensely focused on rimbauds face and throat (you were slightly jealous), his hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead

You could also see the way his abs flexed as he humped into rimbauds hot and inviting mouth, the way he was slightly hunched over on top of Rimbaud with his hands placed on his chest for leverage to power his thrusts even more, arms flexing

But, tonight the focus was on Rimbaud, so you moved your gaze back down to him

And with so much of him stimulated, what other things could you do to tease him before you let him cum?

You moved your eyes to his chest, where his nipples looked so enticing, pink and hardened from the air that’s seems to always be cold to him

You leaned over, still thrusting into him, and you could see Verlaine give you a (frankly, adorable) look of confusion, before your mouth connected with one nipple as a hand connected to the other

Rimbaud jumped, his chest arching into you as he let out a surprised squeal while you sucked, licked, nibbled, pinched and toyed with his sensitive nipples

You could faintly hear an “oh, merde-“ (“oh, shit”) from above you as Verlaine sped up his thrusts

After a couple of minutes of that, with Rimbaud seeming like he was close to breaking (his broken moans evidence of that), you moved to wrap your hand around his neglected cock

The reaction was instantaneous, with Rimbaud twitching and moving erratically, struggling to take in the onslaught of pleasure from every major pleasure point of his body

He choked on his moans (and cock) as he trembled, tensing when you slowly pump his cock

It only took a few strokes before he was gone, whimpering as he toppled over the edge of pleasure as he came, semen shooting out from his cock in strings of white

His throat convulsing sent Verlaine over the edge too, with his loud grunting reaching your ears as he emptied into rimbauds mouth

Rimbaud went slack, body twitching as he heaved for air when verlaine pulled out

When rimbauds head wasn’t forced back like it was while deepthroating Verlaine, you could actually see his face and wow

He looked absolutely wrecked

Face flushed and sweaty, mouth parted with semen and saliva dribbling out, eyes barely open and rolled back, only the whites visible

He whined when you pulled out, his hole twitching around nothing as you got up to get the washcloth you had set aside, before returning and cleaning him up

(His whole body flinched as you cleaned up his dick, sensitive beyond belief, Verlaine was comforting him during the process 🥺)

Once you were all cleaned up, you laid beside each other, a comforting silence surrounding you

And though it happens rarely, Rimbaud felt warmth in your embraces

[ruified]

i just finished reading dazai, chuuya, age 15 so here are some quotes that made me lose my mind (and me explaining why)

…Their argument further escalated when Dazai wouldn't say who was the mastermind behind the black flames. However, Mori had given them strict orders not to solve their problems through violence or threats.

Therefore, they picked what they deemed the fairest method of deciding things: arcade games. The loser would have to obey the winner no matter what.

They ended up playing close to a hundred matches, but that's a story for another time.

the fact that they chose arcade games to settle such a serious matter is so childish /pos i love how they bring out this side in each other, they both had to grow up pretty fast but they were able to do stuff like this around each other. even within the sheep, who took chuuya in, he still had to act like a leader despite his age, and this change is demeanor is strikingly obvious when shirase and the others show up at the arcade and confront chuuya. dazai also had very little chances to act as a teen would and do normal teenager boy stuff, settling a bet over an arcade game was pretty close to that experience though.

"You can't use your hands anymore," said Chuuya. Then he shouted, "Dazai! Now!"

"I'm already on it!"

Dazai sprinted right for Randou, one fist raised.

The boy's eyes were as clear as the sky on a sunny day; they lacked any shred of trepidation. This was not something earned, for only those determined to live could possess their heavenly blue sparkle.

DAZAI’S EYES IN THIS SCENE???? my interpretation of it is that in this very moment dazai wanted to live, and that’s what he was fighting for. he wasn’t just spewing shit when he said that chuuya convinced him to live, at least to live through this fight. i love him sm, 15/pm dazai gotta be one of my favorite complex/fucked up lil guys

"You must die so that I can absorb your dead body and learn what became of my friend—so that I can fill in those missing eight years— so that I can save him."

oh rimlaine my favorite divorcees, how you make my heart ACHE. now “save him” can mean two different things here as it can be literally or figuratively. literally speaking, of course, would just be that arthur would find him if he was alive (keeping in mind that this before he remembered their fight). figuratively speaking, he could mean that he wants to save paul from being forgotten and being lost to time, to preserve his memory and, in turn, uphold meaning to paul’s life as something inhuman.

there’s also this whole section that describes arthur sort of feeling as if everything they (arthur and paul) went through was merely one sided because paul, in his eyes, had betrayed him and (quite literally) stabbed him in the back

"…I thought maybe that way I'd start to like myself as a person—me, a little pattern without a body of my own."

this quote from chuuya is so good and it carries so much impact, it just hit me pretty hard

bonus shoutout to dazai being just amazed by chuuya and standing there, staring like an idiot

[wizardfrog69]

Hi hi! can i request for bsd men x reader who is a doctor and have the ability like machi from hxh?

Thank you for the request!

'•.¸♡ doctor ♡¸.•'

Doctor reader

Fluff

Masterlist

Enjoy!

Feat. Fukuzawa, Atsushi, Kunikida, Dazai, Katai, Mori, Ace, Rimbaud, Akutagawa, Hirotsu, Kajii, Oda, Ango, Fitzgerald, Nathaniel, Fyodor

Yukichi Fukuzawa:

He finds your ability very useful and will employ you if you already aren't an employee.

He will be as careful as always, not putting himself in harm's way, but if he does get a limb chopped off by accident he will come straight to you.

Your thread is useful for combat and traps, which is something he takes into consideration when planning out his schemes.

You and Yosano often work together.

If you don't want to leave your job, he will understand and not force you out of your work.

Atsushi Nakajima:

This man's limbs grow back like nothing happened, so your ability is useless/j

If he gets hurt during a mission, he would go straight to you to take care of him.

He's way too shy to admit it, but he really likes it when you take care of him as no one ever did, and he was forced to look after himself, it's nice to have a break from worrying about yourself.

Make him a ball of thread to play with (like a cat), and he'll be very happy and entertained for some time.

Doppo Kunikida:

He also thinks your ability is quite useful, and despite how much he does not want you involved in any missions, your threads can be useful.

If you do not work in the ada, Kunikida would often visit you after work, if you aren't busy.

He doesn't really want to visit you when he's injured so as not to worry you and cause you additional work.

If you do end up taking care of him, he will be very pleased and find comfort in your soothing touch.

Osamu Dazai:

He takes your ability to his advantage.

He may become a bit more careless (as if he isn't already) and put himself in harms way more, just to see your worried face and for you to care for him. At least that's what he claims.

He does always love it when you care for him, even if it's putting a plaster on a scratch on his face, which he obtained by "falling."

Katai tayama:

Since he never leaves his house, you can tend to him whenever you need to.

Katai doesn't get injured a lot, so you don't have to worry about him.

Ogai Mori:

Mori, being a doctor himself, obviously does not need any help regarding himself, but it would be useful to have another medic in the mafia.

Your ability can also be useful in combat, so Mori wastes no time trying to convince you to join the mafia. You probably don't have a choice since he's the leader, and it would be quite difficult to be with the leader of a mafia without being a part of it.

A new torture method is now being used in the mafia, cutting somebody's limbs off :)

Ace:

This little prick would put one of his collars around your neck, and you would be his personal doctor, tending to all of his wounds and stuff.

Don't worry, he won't exchange you for gems. You are just too valuable for that.

Arthur Rimbaud:

Maybe you could finally figure out why he's so cold all the time.

If you two are together, you probably work in the mafia, or the other place he's from.

He admires the work you do, human life (or any life really) is important, and you should receive the respect and loyalty it deserves.

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa:

He could care less about your occupation unless it benefits him, and in this case, it does.

You would often help him with his wounds and coughing, reminding him to eat and drink, etc.

Your threads are quite useful to him, and he could strategize your ability into something.

Ryūrō Hirotsu:

What a silly old man.

You could be his personal nurse instead of sending him to a nursing home.

Motojiro Kajii:

Tbh, I'm surprised he isn't dead, ik he doesn't get hurt by his bombs but like still

He would always come home with some sort of scratches, which you will place a little lemon themed plaster on.

Also, you call him a mad scientist, and it was probably his idea.

Sakunosuke Oda:

Finally, someone norm- oh wait, he's a skeleton. Ig you'll have to help him not be dead.

You would always have plasters on you with an animal print or something on them, usually for the kids Oda takes care of, but it wouldn't hurt to help someone else out who needs one.

Oda loves what you do and wishes to help you when you come home tired from a long day at the hospital.

The kids Oda takes care of do get sick from time to time, so you will end up getting them to feel better.

Hey, maybe you could stich the kids back together after the little explosion? Pretty please????

Ango Sakaguchi:

He's too tired to realise his arms have fallen off.

He would get sick from the sleepless nights, and you'd demand him to stay home, but he would go to work anyway.

Ango respects your profession greatly and would never dream of getting in the way of your work.

He understands all too well how work can deprive you of everything, so he doesn't really ask you of anything.

Francis Scott Fitzgerald:

You are working in his team of Americans (ew)

/j I just don't think the food in America should be eaten.

Anyways.

You will be the doctor of the group, taking care of anyone who is ill.

He will find your ability useful and will certainly take it to his advantage, money is after all (one of) the most important things in this world and Fitzgerald will get it any means necessary, unless that means hurting you (or himself).

He cares about his family, so he doesn't wish for you to die :)

Nathaniel Hawthrone:

I'm surprised he isn't blaming the devil for everything tbh.

He can use this blood as thread so you can go away now. Your ability is not useful/j

Its great that you want to save people! (Or the children of God, I forgot how religious he is).

He can help by praying for you and your patients. that's it. God is the best doctor, after all.

He doesn't typically cut off his limbs whilst in battle, but if he does, he knows you will always be there to help him if he needs it.

Fyodor Dostoevsky:

Your ability is useful to Fyodor and his gang of rats. You can stich limbs back on, and the nervous system will reattach itself like nothing happened, brilliant!

Fyodor claims he doesn't need a doctor or to be taken care of. In truth, he does, but he fails to admit it, fearing he may appear weak or dependent on other people. His feelings don't stop him from making you the doctor of a bunch of rats.

You may not be a vet, but it doesn't hurt to try!

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

I'm sorry I couldn't include everyone. It would have taken too long, and u would just be repeating myself, even though I'm already doing so here.

Happy pride month, everyone! So many people have come so far to allow us to be ourselves. It may still be difficult, but that is why we need to celebrate everyone!

I was recently binge watching some shows, so I added some more to the fandoms I write for if anyone is interested. To find the list, go to the masterlist -> the bottom of the post -> press 'Fandoms I write for, rules & regulations♡'

Have a wonderful day/night and enjoy pride month!

-love, Az

[yuugen-benni]

Port Mafia members and their songs !

ADA version - DOA version - The Flags version

Chuuya: (Arabahaki's reference)

''I can't escape this hell So many times I've tried But I'm still caged inside Somebody get me through this nightmare I can't control myself So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one would ever change this animal I have become'' - Animal I have become by Three Days Grace

Paul Verlaine: (It's funny and sad to think that I chose this song thinking about the story between Rimbaud and Verlaine IRL)

''I'm sorry that I did this The blood is on my hands I stare at my reflection I don't know who I am Practice my confession In case I take the stand I'll say I learned my lesson I'll be a better man'' - If I killed someone for you by Alec Benjamin

Randou Rimbaud: (I would only put songs that are originally in English, but this song suits him a lot)

''And at every step I intertwine anger and reason Disillusionment, you brought it to my hand And it even burned But I'm always wearing a scarf to hide from this cold And a glove on my hand to hide from the cold What does your heart do'' - Cachecol by Kamaitachi

Akutagawa:

''Only care about myself 'Cause everyone's trying to hurt me Just leave me alone Just leave me alone Just leave me alone I just wanna be alone'' - Jealous by Eyedress

Higuchi:

''And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved'' - Me and My husband by Mitski

Tachihara:

''Bored, stoned, sitting in your basement All alone, cause your little conversations Got around, now look at what we all found out (look at what we, look at what we all found out) You have got a set of loose lips, twisting stories All because you're jealous Now I know exactly what you're all about And this is what you're all about Girl, you're such a backstabber'' - Backstabber by Kesha

Hirotsu:

''Old man, look at my life I'm a lot like you were Old man, look at my life Twenty four and there's so much more Live alone in a paradise That makes me think of two'' - Old man by Neil Young

BONUS:

Ango Sakaguchi: (I just could think about his special ability)

''Those thoughts of past lovers, they'll always haunt me I wish I could believe you'd never wrong me Then will you remember me in the same way as I remember you? Baby, we built this house on memories Take my picture now, shake it 'til you see it And when your fantasies become your legacy Promise me a place in your house of memories'' - House of memories by Panic! at disco

[downbad4fyodor]

Pairing: Arthur Rimbaud x Fem!reader word count: 551 summary: You and Rimbaud went outside to build a snowman, despite the cold temperature warnings: none Tag list: @getousrep

Want more Fics for the Holidays?

On a frigid winter morning, the air was crisp with the promise of snowflakes dancing from the sky. You and Rimbaud decided to embrace the wintry chill and engage in a quintessential activity: building a snowman.

The world outside was blanketed in pristine white, a canvas awaiting your creative touch. Rimbaud, bundled up in layers, his demeanor as tranquil as ever, reluctantly stepped into the cold with you. His breath formed misty clouds in the frosty air as he surveyed the snow-covered landscape.

As you both ventured into the snowy expanse, the muted sunlight filtering through the cloud-laden sky cast a soft glow on the winter wonderland. Rimbaud's calm presence seemed to resonate with the serene quietude of the snowy surroundings.

Finding the perfect spot, you and Rimbaud began crafting the base of your snowman. The snow, powdery and glistening, yielded easily to your hands as you packed it into a sturdy foundation. Rimbaud, his movements deliberate and unhurried, assisted with a gentle touch, his chilled fingers surprisingly adept at shaping the frosty form.

Conversation between you two flowed like a gentle stream, punctuated by the rhythmic sounds of snow compacting beneath your hands. Rimbaud, normally a man of few words, opened up about his fondness for the tranquility that winter brought. His voice, accompanied by the occasional sound of crunching snow, created a soothing melody in the wintry air.

As the snowman's midsection took shape, Rimbaud suggested adding a touch of whimsy. His idea was to use twigs for arms, giving the snowman a natural, rustic charm. With meticulous precision, he arranged the twigs, creating an illusion of movement frozen in time. The snowman, now adorned with a minimalist touch, seemed to exude Rimbaud's understated elegance.

With the final layer of snow, the snowman stood proudly in the winter landscape, a testament to your collaborative effort. Rimbaud, though perpetually cold, seemed warmed by the accomplishment, a faint smile gracing his usually tranquil features.

As you stood back to admire your creation, Rimbaud suggested adding a personal touch to the snowman's countenance. He carefully selected small stones and fashioned a pair of eyes that seemed to gaze thoughtfully into the distance. A tiny twig served as the snowman's mouth, and Rimbaud, in an unexpected burst of playfulness, sculpted a mischievous tilt to the snowman's snowy hat.

Completing the snowman felt like a triumph, a shared venture against the winter chill. Rimbaud's mellow demeanor had found a harmonious counterpart in the whimsical creation that now stood in the snowy landscape. The wintry scene, crafted with care and shared moments, embodied the essence of a serene winter day.

Rimbaud, though typically reserved, expressed his contentment with a rare, genuine smile. The cold that usually clung to him seemed momentarily thawed by the warmth of your shared endeavor. As you both retreated from the wintry tableau, leaving the snowman to guard the snowy expanse, Rimbaud's hand found yours, the chill now a testament to the winter's embrace.

The two of you walked back through the snow-covered landscape, leaving behind the whimsical creation that stood as a testament to your wintry camaraderie. The mellow tranquility of Rimbaud and the playful touch of the snowman seemed to merge into a seamless harmony, encapsulating the magic of a cold winter day spent building memories amidst the snowflakes.

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Hyakunosuke Ogata x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This fic is @dolcezzzza's summer horror event, The Cabin! The title comes a Dum Dum Girls song which got its name from A Season in Hell by shitlord poet, Arthur Rimbaud. I'm not a fan, but each section of the fic starts with a line from his poem bc some of his prose kinda slaps. [ SYNOPSIS ] The summer camp you're working at is being terrorized by a unseen force that is picking off your fellow counselors one by one. [ WORD COUNT ] 15.3k [ CONTENT ] DARK CONTENT, cliche summer camp slasher film AU, murder/character death, gore, alcohol (binge drinking), suicide, vaginal sex, size kink (his dick is girthy okay), strength kink, oral sex, rough sex, facefucking, exhibitionism, biting.

Baptism enslaved me

The past week had been a blur. You spent seven days running around in the heat, trying to make an inhospitable boy scout camp into something inspired. Breaking it in was your duty as your group was the first of the season. The trappings of a long, snowy winter and a violently wet spring lingered around the facilities. Your arms ached from clearing out fallen branches and musty piles of decayed leaves. Your clothes were constantly mottled with cobwebs and dust. Every night when you collapsed in your twin-sized cot you debated on running through the woods towards the highway seeking salvation in the form of a kind motorist.

That’s why you hoped you would spend your last child free morning in the comfort of your cabin. And yet there you sat, listening to the camp director droned on. You melted in the midday sun with your back against a tree, a pitiful attempt to shelter yourself under its leaves.

“I’m gonna die out here,” Shiraishi, your partner for the summer, moaned.

He too was slumped by the tree, his head hanging down limply. You flicked him in the shoulder with your thumb and forefinger.

“You can’t die. Mr. Tsurumi still hasn’t told us what group we have,” you whispered.

“I think you can handle them on your own.”

Sugimoto turned his attention towards the two of you. His cheeks flushed from sitting in the sun. He didn’t seem to mind bathing in its rays.

“Can you at least pretend to pay attention like me?”

His words barely registered. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. A dusting of tan freckles spread across the bridge of his nose, elevating his boyish looks. He was the only one who got cuter after a week of hard labor.

“Sure,” you said, mind still occupied with the slope of his nose.

“Unfortunately our lead counselor will not be joining us for the first couple days of camp.” The director wiped sweat away from his brow. “I’m sure all of you have heard about Yūsaku’s unfortunate… situation.”

“We heard alright,” Usami snickered.

Yūsaku had forgotten to reapply sunscreen and got scorched from head-to-toe. The golden boy’s pained groans persisted through the night as everyone attempted to sleep. Yellow blisters ballooned on his skin, marring his pristine complexion. You tried your best not to think about his affliction.

“But I know we will persevere in his absence. I have high hopes for this summer. Let’s make it a good one.” He smiled warmly. “The campers will be arriving in two hours. Your coordinators, Mr. Koito and Mr. Tsukishima, will have your rosters and itineraries for the week.”

Tsurumi said his goodbyes and strided away to his quarters. You stood up slowly, stretching your arms above your head.

“I feel… like we’re missing people,” you said, twisting your waist. “Where’s your partner?”

Sugimoto looked around and shrugged. He was paired with Ogata, easily one of the most enigmatic people you knew.

“Well there’s Tanigaki,” Shiraishi yawned. “Inkarmat’s with him too.”

Tanigaki’s burly form crested the hill. He looked ashamed, like a puppy three seconds from getting kicked down the stairs. Inkarmat followed close behind with a cooler expression. She looked refreshed and practically glowed.

“Did we miss anything important?”

Sugimoto looked at him with big, sad, wet eyes and sniffled. “Camp got canceled. We’re getting sent home with no pay.”

“And it’s all your fault, like specifically yours,” you said with a glare.

Shiraishi mirrored your expression. “Mr. Tsurumi said your name.”

Tanigaki’s eyes briefly widened before adopting a more stern state. You knew he bought it for a millisecond.

“Am I in trouble for anything?” Inkarmat asked, laughing. She was unflappable.

“No. You’re not being held accountable,” you replied.

“Just in time for Women’s History Month,” Shiraishi added cooly.

It was June and the last time you checked Women’s History Month was in March. Inkarmat snickered and grabbed Vasily by the wrist, dragging him off towards the mess hall. The idea of going inside sounded practically orgasmic. There was zero chance you could comprehend what activities were planned for the day if sweat continued to drip down your spine all the way to the crack of your ass.

“Let’s get our shit and go, like, sit down somewhere,” you said, tone somewhat urgent.

Shiraishi nodded in agreement and offered to deal with the coordinators. He could tell you were in no position to talk to upper management. You decided to wait rather than go off on your own even though your impatience was on the verge of having a body count. Luckily neither Mr. Koito or Mr. Tsukishima seemed particularly interested in speaking to him, or any of the counselors for that matter. You were so relieved 

There was a collective sigh of relief once you reached the shade. You scanned your roster, familiarizing yourself with the names listed.

“Archery on Wednesday?” Sugimoto said, voice slightly concerned. “That sounds cool, but should we really be giving kids arrows?”

“What?! We don’t have archery. We have knife throwing. Well that explains all the knives…”

“That’s not all we’re doing is it?” you asked.

“One day we’re dissecting owl pellets—Oh wait, there’s archery.”

“Do you guys have judo on Tuesday?” Sugimoto asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Shiraishi affirmed. “And then we have Russian immersion right after.”

“Russian immersion?” you asked.

“You know, the language,” Shiraishi clarified albeit for no reason as both you and Sugimoto knew Russian was in fact a language.

“We’re doing that too,” Sugimoto said, yawning. “And wagashi making.”

Other activities listed were: friendship bracelet making and various types of yarn-based projects, mushroom hunting, canoeing, swimming, hiking and giant shogi.

Peace had fallen over the three of you. All you could hear was lilting bird calls and a burbling stream. Just as you had grown accustomed to the wondrous sounds of nature, you heard the crushing of twigs and dry leaves.

“It’s a bear,” Shiraishi whispered.

“There are no bears around here,” you said.

“Even if there were bears, Mr. Tsurumi has a shotgun in his cabin,” Sugimoto chirped.

Shiraishi sighed in exasperation. “Great because that’ll definitely save us right now from getting eaten alive.”

Despite there being a lack of bears in the area every hair on your body bristled. What if you all fell victim to a vicious wild boar attack? You weren’t even sure if wild boars inhabited the area either, but logic didn’t matter. All you knew was you didn’t want to die at camp. You didn’t want to have your flesh ripped from your body by an overgrown, ugly hog or any animal to be honest. You were too young; there was so much you wanted to do in life, so much you needed to accomplish.

“Oh. It’s just Ogata,” Shiraishi said.

Sugimoto’s co-counselor emerged from the redwoods, his expression blank and unreadable. He didn’t react to Shiraishi saying his name. It was if he intended on strolling past without saying a word. Usually you found this type of behavior tiresome and obnoxious, but he made it alluring and charming in an absurd sort of way.

“Where are you going?” Sugimoto asked.

“To camp.”

Sugimoto went to speak, but you butted in.

“You should come sit with us! We got our schedules and everything! ” you blurted out.

Your face was burning. You assumed you would’ve been smoother with your approach. Your fumble didn’t seem to phase Ogata as he took a seat right next to you, leaving zero space in between. Sugimoto was left alone on the other side of the picnic table.

“Did I miss anything important?” he asked.

Sugimoto wordlessly slid their group’s information across the table. Ogata looked it over. 

“Mushroom hunting,” Ogata muttered as he ran his hand over his undercut, trying to smooth down a rogue lock of hair. “Hm. We’ll have to make sure the kids don’t pick anything toxic.”

Shiraishi groaned. “I figured everything out there would be safe to eat.”

“Wh—what do you mean out there? It’s the woods. Do you think Mr. Tsurumi combed through the entirety of it to make sure every little growth out there isn’t toxic?” you asked.

You found yourself compelled to say as many words as possible to make your presence known even if it was at the expense of your partner. It was shameful, but it was an unstoppable compulsion. Ogata’s presence implored you to take up more space. You laughed louder than you normally would. You smiled when your expression would otherwise be one of indifference. You said the things you would otherwise be too lazy to. Anything to get his attention even if just for a passing moment.

Ogata chuckled and your heart sang.

“I don’t know! Now we’re gonna have to watch them like hawks.”

“Our job is to supervise them,” Sugimoto chided.

“Excuse me for not wanting to do my job,” your partner grumbled.

You wondered how feasible it would be to get assigned a new co-counselor. Shiraishi wasn’t unlikable; you got along well enough. But you had a feeling most of the heavy lifting would fall on you.

Shiraishi rested his chin on his hand. “I just hope our kids aren’t assholes.”

“They will be. That’s just how kids are,” you laughed.

“Not if you scare them into submission.”

“Nope. Not happening. Not a chance,” Sugimoto said, demolishing Ogata’s suggestion.

“As long as we all set expectations early it shouldn’t be too bad. They just need to know what to expect from us. Kids are sedated by consistency.”

“Sedated?” Ogata asked with a smirk.

His voice, rich and gruff, reverberated throughout your body. It seeped through your skin, deep into your bones, saturating your thoughts with unseemly things. Your eyes went to his hands, something you always found attractive, only to be mildly disgusted by his dirty fingernails. 

You tried to shake it off. “Domesticated. Placated. Basically they won’t act like monsters.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied.

“We should start getting ready,” Sugimoto said.

“I guess,” Shiraishi yawned.

You slapped him on the back. “You can’t be tired yet.”

Your partner whined that he was within his right to be tired which didn’t matter one way or another to you. It was going to be a long day; you could feel it. But not all hope was lost. If you were able to get within close range of Ogata it would be more than worth it.

The horror of my stupidity

The first day went perfectly. Your group consisted of six rambunctious, but generally well-behaved ten-year-olds. Shiraishi managed to overcome his lackadaisical leanings and took a hands-on role, but still deferred to you. You didn’t mind leading so long as he wrangled the more unruly kids. His commitment set you at ease.

The next morning was a quiet one. The kids were usually placid at first. Their cautiousness proved useful while foraging for mushrooms. They kept their hands to themselves and none of them ate anything deadly. The only unsettling thing was Tsurumi’s gleeful reaction whenever a destroying angel popped up.

“Mr. Tsurumi, would you poop your pants if you ate one?” a camper asked thoughtfully.

His dark eyes lit up and he gave the child a toothy grin.

“Why yes! Diarrhea and excruciating cramps are the first symptoms of alpha-Amanitin poisoning.”

Another camper pointed out what they thought was a wild carrot only to be told by an ecstatic Tsurumi that it was actually hemlock. The kids were riveted as he detailed the horrific symptoms of hemlock poisoning. Their horrified gasps when he told them there was no antidote seemed to thrill him.

Upon returning to camp it became clear that all was not well. Shiraishi was the first to notice the white sheet draped over a humanoid shape. It was partially obscured by one of the cabins. Tsurumi’s jovial facade gave way to flat expression and he sprinted off towards the disturbing scene.

“Hey,” you whispered, tapping Sugimoto on the shoulder. “Can you guys take the kids? I’m, uh, gonna be nosy.”

Your partner stood erect beside you. “Me too.”

“No,” you hissed. Shiraishi didn’t budge. “Someone has to be with our group.”

“Why not you then?”

“Be—because I was… I was… okay. Listen—”

“It’s fine. I got it,” Sugimoto sighed. “I wanna know all the details though. If you skimp, I’ll never forgive either of you.”

Ogata cleared his throat. He herded the campers away from whatever was shrouded under the white sheet. They were all clamoring around him, wondering when they’d get to eat fruit snacks. One was crawling up his leg and another was attempting to tie his shoes together. It made your stomach flutter seeing him be so patient with them.

Sugimoto took the hint and headed towards his partner and the gaggle of children, but he stopped midway to reiterate that he wanted all the details much to Ogata’s annoyance.

Once they were out of sight you and Shiraishi crept closer to and saw Nurse Kano kneeling beside what you assumed was a corpse. She lifted the sheet and studied what was under it, her expression a twisted combination of enthrallment and disgust. She stood up slowly.

“He’s dead.”

“We should call the paramedics then,” Tsukishima said.

Koito looked perplexed. “But he’s already dead. Shouldn’t we call the coroner?”

“You can’t just call up the coroner,” Tsukishima sighed.

Tsurumi squatted by the body and lifted the sheet. The director’s curiosity gave you a perfect view.

It was Tanigaki. His face was pale, eyes wide and cloudy. His lips and chin were crusted over with banana yellow bile. A desperate cry got caught in your throat. You wanted to look away and go back to your kids. But you were frozen, lost in Tanigaki’s lifeless gaze.

“Tanigaki,” you croaked.

Tsurumi’s eyes darted in your direction before returning to Tanigaki’s body.

“Otonoshin, go call 9-1-1,” he said calmly.

Koito rushed off to make the call. Tsurumi lowered the sheet. You couldn’t believe that you’d never see Tanigaki again, that he was gone for good. You hadn’t known him long, but you grew very fond of him.

“He can’t… This isn’t happening…”

You struggled to find the words. Seeing the outline of his face under the sheet radiated a finality that ripped your soul from your body.

“I wonder what happened,” he mumbled as you both walked away. “He looked…”

“I—I can’t think about that right now. I don’t wanna think about that right now.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

You wiped your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. Let’s hike to the lake or something. I don’t know.”

There was a sense of relief when you spotted the campers. You couldn’t help but smile when they broke out into a cacophony of questions regarding your whereabouts. In the midst of the excitement one camper launched a fruit snack at Shiraishi’s eye.

“You pull something like that again and I’m sending you to Mr. Tsukishima,” Ogata rumbled.

“Anyway,” Shiraishi said. “Who wants to hike up to the lake? Maybe race some canoes?”

The campers cheered and bolted in the direction of Tanigaki’s body. You and Sugimoto chased after them but they scattered like roaches. You could only stop so many of them.

“Hey! Were any of you dismissed?!”

Ogata’s voice cut through them and they immediately made their way back, heads hanging. You hadn’t expected him to be so firm with the campers. He was kind of withdrawn around the other counselors, or at the very least opaque. He mostly kept to himself though his brother was usually fluttering around him. You felt like you barely knew Ogata despite spending time with him, whereas Shiraishi and his oversharing made him feel more like an old friend or a weird cousin. As frustrating as it was, the mysterious haze that obscured Ogata drew you in. You wanted to know more about him, to pry open his soul and study its contents.

“You all owe your counselors an apology.” Ogata’s sharp gaze turned to the kid that hit Shiraishi with a fruit snack. “You especially.”

The kid looked terrified and quickly mumbled an apology. The rest of the campers groaned “we’re sorry” in unison. With the apologies out of the way the four of you prepared them for their hike.

“Look! More hemlock!” one the kids exclaimed. She knelt beside the plant, her face inches from its toxic, white flowers.

“Don’t get too close to it,” Sugimoto said, his voice like that of a concerned mother.

You could barely focus, but the camper was in your group so you felt compelled to try. “Or just don’t go around it at all. Leave it alone.”

“I’m just looking!”

“Looking that close is enough to kill,” Ogata said over his shoulder. “If you inhale the fumes, you're dead.”

This seemed to quell any remnants of curiosity. The campers spent the rest of the hike spotting mushrooms and imitating Tsurumi’s passionate infodumping. The word “creepy” was thrown around liberally. You chastised them for being disrespectful, but you agreed. His behavior made you uncomfortable, especially in the wake of Tanigaki’s mysterious death.

The lake was calm, the serenity of the scene much needed.

“Look!” a camper called out.

You thought it was cute that they were just as pleased to see the lake as you were. However something was riling them up as they made their way down to the shore. Some ran right back up the hill. Their faces paled, their eyes ripe with fear. 

“Saichi, Saichi!!” one said, latching onto his arm. “Look!!”

Sugimoto crested the hill and looked down.

“Oh shit,” he said. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

“Stop swearing around the kids,” Ogata sighed as he joined his co-counselor to survey the situation. “Shit.”

“What is it?” you and Shiraishi shouted.

“Everyone away from the lake!” Ogata called out.

The kids bounded up the hill and cowered beside you, clinging to you for comfort.

“You guys, what is it?” you repeated, patting a camper on the head. “Is it something gross?”

“You could say that,” one piped up.

Sugimoto and Ogata turned to face you, but they seemed unable to speak. You freed yourself from the kids and walked towards them. Your absence caused them to swarm Shiraishi.

“It’s a body!” one shrieked.

“Um, it’s a lady!” one replied in a bratty tone.

Each step felt heavier than the last. Your body was screaming for you to turn around, but you couldn’t. You felt sick to your stomach. Kids made up stories all the time. They played pranks. Maybe they were lying.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Maybe she’s just sleeping.”

“What are you? Dumb? She’s dead!”

Their voices were all melding into one. Everything began to blur. You knew what was coming. You knew what you were going to see. And yet you kept walking.

It was Inkarmat.

“Shi… Shiraishi. Take the ki…”

You forced yourself to look at the water, trying to ignore her putrefied remains. You leached away its calmness like a parasite. The tranquility you attempted to foster only did so much. You still felt like garbage, like you could vomit at any second.

“What is it?!” Shiraishi shouted back. “And,” he groaned, “I can’t take them all by myself!”

He was right. Being responsible for twelve disturbed children in the woods with terrible cell reception was asking for trouble, but you were too stunned to think up a plan of action.

“Ogata and I will be in the front. You and Shiraishi take the back. I’ll tell Tsurumi when we get back to camp.”

You nodded and started walking back to the group with Sugimoto. Tears welled up in your eyes as you made eye contact with a terrified camper.

“Hey! Ogata!”

He was still on the hill, staring down into the lake

 “We have to go!” Sugimoto bellowed.

Ogata didn’t budge, and Sugimoto did not have the time for such antics.

“I’ll wait for him,” you said, wiping away your tears. “I don’t want the kids to see me like this anyway.”

“It wouldn’t kill them to see that you’re human,” Sugimoto said, trapping you in his gaze.

You sniffled. “Gross.”

Sugimoto didn’t have time for whatever was going on with you either. You couldn’t blame him. The kids had to take precedence. All you needed was two minutes to collect yourself and you’d be a functioning camp counselor again.

Ogata was still frozen in time. Everything was so still you didn’t want to speak, let alone move. You felt like the sound of a twig snapping beneath your feet could send the world into chaos.

“Hyakunosuke.” Your voice was soft, any louder and it would waiver.

Your legs shook as you made your way up the hill next to him. You made a conscious effort to keep your eyes on Ogata, nowhere else. You let yourself get lost in him and studied his face. You were curious about his symmetrical scars and how he got them.

“You’re not traumatized by this?” Ogata finally asked.

You thought about Tanigaki.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” he said, pointing at Inkarmat’s bloated corpse.

“Why are you asking?”

“I dunno. Curious I guess.”

Your mind went blank, but you kept speaking. “I’m… upset obviously. But I don’t want the kids to know… so… I’m—I am gonna pretend none of this ever happened and get through the week in one piece hopefully.”

“I know you can do it.”

His support did little to soothe you.

“I saw Tanigaki earlier. I saw his face. It was… He had puked all over himself and it just was so sad, like so undignified.” Ogata snorted, but you were too frazzled to comprehend it at the time. “And now that’s how I’m going to fucking remember him?” You tried to take some measured breaths. “Like was he in pain? Was he scared? Did he call out to any of us? Did he die, like, knowing we cared about him? Or did he just fucking lie in the dirt for hours, wondering why none of us came to help him?”

“Where was he?”

“His cabin. It kinda looked like he was leaving, or maybe he was going back in. He was on his back though.”

You couldn’t say anything more. You needed as much distance from the memory as possible. If Ogata wanted to know more, he would have to badger Shiraishi.

“Let’s go,” he said suddenly. “They’ll probably have to ask us a bunch of questions.”

“They? Who—”

“Maybe Tsurumi. Or his two guard dogs. Or the police. If we’re lucky maybe it’ll be all of them.”

Your bones were turning into dust, your body buckling under its own weight. You saw far too much today and said too much about it.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked.

“I can’t move.”

You knew that in theory you could manipulate your body in such a way that would create distance between you and what remained of Inkarmat. You were practically screaming at yourself to go back to the group and embody Shiraishi’s laid back nature. But your fear was intangible, unforeseen, and there was no escaping it.

“Get on my back.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll carry you,” he said, readying himself to give you a piggyback ride.

“Are you sure?”

“Probably.”

You felt bad for giggling, considering you weren’t far from a corpse, but the lightness of it set you free. You hopped on his back and made your way through the woods, following the shrill voices of your campers.

“I’m going to need a drink after today,” Ogata grumbled.

“What do you mean a drink? I need an entire fifth to myself with one of those sport caps they have on water bottles screwed on top.”

“I can make that happen.”

Ogata said it with such ease. He was becoming the perfect distraction, a comforting beacon in a sea of blood and vomit.

I believe I am in Hell, therefore I am

You and your fellow counselors decided a night of binge drinking was needed to cope with the day’s horrifying events. Everyone traded stories. Yūsaku joined the party, finally able to walk upright without yelping in pain. He was blindsided by what happened.

“So that’s it? They’re dead?” he asked, face flushed from his sunburn and the copious amounts of watery American-style lager he was drinking.

You took a sip from a bottle of tequila. Ogata managed to screw a sports cap on top making your dream a reality.

“I don’t know. I mean, yeah. They’re dead. That’s for sure.” The alcohol had softened the blow of seeing both of their bodies. “Seeing Tanigaki fucked me up… Not that Inkarmat didn’t… It’s just, like, his was the first I saw, y’know?”

“You always remember your first,” Usami said as he wandered into the woods to relieve himself.

Yūsaku shivered and you washed away Usami’s words with an amnesia seeking gulp of tequila.

“Sucks for you though. You’re gonna have to pick up the slack.”

“I don’t mind. It’s what I signed up for,” he beamed. “The kids really liked Inkarmat though. I have some big shoes to fill.”

“I think you’ll be a hit. They might try to peel off loose pieces of your skin though.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take for the good of the camp!” he cheered.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed.

“In a bad way?” he said, batting his long eyelashes.

You thought he was a total dork, but his optimism was infectious. Or maybe it was just your intoxicated mind being more open to suggestion. After having such a horrendous day it was nice to indulge in someone else’s dream. You knew deep down that there was no way camp would go on as planned, but it was easier to pretend that Yūsaku’s drive would be enough to pull everyone through.

“No, no,” you said, patting him on the head. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

Out of the corner of you watched Ogata emerge from the woods and sit on the ground right next to the campfire. He held his hands to the fire. You watched as he closed his eyes, his body relaxing, shoulders lowered.

“You’re so nice” Yūsaku said, giving you a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.

It caught Ogata’s attention and he narrowed his eyes as his half-brother spun you around.

“Yū—Yūsaku, I’m getting dizzy.”

He blushed and apologized. Once your feet were on the ground you joined Ogata by the fire.

“How’s the bottle been working out for you?”

“Amazing,” you said, taking another drink. “Are you cold?” You scooted closer to him. “Where’d your jacket go?”

“I’m not sure. Why all the questions?”

You didn’t think two questions were considered a lot. “No reason.”

You hadn’t thought this conversation through. You were stumped and floundering. You should have known better to attempt to flirt while drunk. Your chance was slipping through your fingers and it made you ill. You needed something good to happen, something exciting. You needed Ogata to figure out that you were charming and interesting and most importantly fuckable.

He closed the gap and leaned against you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Maybe. I… I have no idea honestly. I don’t know how I feel. Sometimes it’s like,” you took a sip of tequila, “I feel freaked the fuck out. But then sometimes I feel abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Like right now. It feels like it didn’t even happen. Are you okay?”

“I am. I only knew them for a week so they didn’t matter much.” His comments were so callous. “Don’t get me wrong. They were nice people, but that’s all they were to me.”

“Nice people,” you repeated.

“Yeah. Nice people.”

“Would you be sad if I died?”

He stared into the fire. “Maybe. Our groups get paired together for activities.”

“What does that mean?!”

“I’m around you a lot. Your absence wouldn’t go unnoticed,” he said with a smirk.

Your cheeks flared up and found it increasingly harder to hold it together. You regretted all the tequila. Spit was pooling in your mouth.

“Yeah, well. Of course it would. I’m, like, fucking… yeah,” you said, eyes half-lidded.

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

“I think the kids and the—their, uh, inarticulateness is rubbing, you know, off.”

“Oh yeah, that’s it. It’s definitely not because your blood is 90 proof.”

“You want some of it?”

You gave him a sloppy wink. His dark eyes widened, his eyebrows raised. It was the first time you had ever seen him so flustered.

“I—” he stuttered.

“Hey,” Shiraishi barked. “You guys seen Vasily?”

Ogata resumed his usual hard to read demeanor. You wanted to break the bottle in your hand and gut Shiraishi with it.

“Uhhhhh… Not like recently. I thought he was with you and Sugimoto,” you replied politely through a clenched jaw.

“We thought he was with you.”

“He could’ve went to bed early,” Ogata suggested.

“Hmmm yeah. I wouldn’t blame him,” you said.

“We should do that,” Shiraishi said, pointing at you. “We have target shooting at seven in the morning.”

You groaned. He was right, a good night’s rest was necessary. It killed you to say good night to Ogata, but there was always tomorrow. You didn’t need to rush things. 

I looked on the disorder of my mind as sacred

You woke up the next morning with a persistent ache near your temples. You rolled out of bed and dug around your suitcase for some ibuprofen. You grabbed four and choked them down with room temperature water. It felt thick as it made its way down your throat. The sun was just starting to rise, the sky a dreamy shade of lavender.

It was weird to wake up alone. You hoped that it would be easier the second time around, but Inkarmat’s absence weighed heavy on you. You couldn’t figure out how she made it to the lake. The last time you saw her she said that she was going to fuck Tanigaki and to cover her ass if needed. She must have gotten lost on her way back from wherever it was she met him. Maybe she took a wrong turn and fell. Or maybe Tsurumi had something to do with it.

“Good morning!!”

Shiraishi’s cheery voice cut through your thoughts. You got up and let him in.

“Tsk, tsk. Still in your pajamas. What am I gonna do with you?”

He handed you an enamel mug full of coffee.

“Tsurumi wants to talk to us in an hour. I ran into him when I was going to take a piss.”

“Did he seem worried?”

“Not really.”

“Weird… I think he has something to do with it. He killed Tanigaki for sure and he probably killed Inkarmat too.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I think Tsurumi poisoned him with hemlock. What we saw lines up with the symptoms he told us when we went mushroom foraging.” Shiraishi didn’t look convinced. “Like do you think this is all a coincidence?”

“Why would he kill him though?”

“People kill without motives all the time.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“Seriously? He’s a creep. Who else would it be?”

“I don’t think it’s a person,” he whispered suddenly. His eyes shifted from left to right. “I think this place is haunted.”

“Oh yeah? Did Inkarmat read some passages out of the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis? Did she release the Deadites? Or maybe the soul of a drowned ex-camper is wandering the woods and picking us off one by one.”

Shiraishi was an idiot. There was no way the camp was haunted. You kicked him out and got dressed. You felt like you were moving in slow motion. You didn’t want to have some group discussion about what happened the day before. You wanted to put it in the past and focus on the kids and their activities. You wanted to finally have a canoe race.

When you walked into the mess hall it was dead silent. You took a seat next to Ogata much to the disappointment of Shiraishi and Sugimoto. There was an empty seat in between them.

“Where’s everyone?” you asked.

“No one’s seen Vasily or Usami since last night. And Koito’s with the kids. We’re just waiting on Tsurumi.”

“What about Nurse Kano?”

“I dunno…”

“Sorry I’m late!” Yūsaku said breathily. His hair was wet and his clothes were haphazardly thrown on.

“We haven’t even started yet,” Ogata groaned. “Sit down.”

Five minutes later Tsurumi came in with Tsukishima following behind like a shadow. He looked tired. His normally neat hair was askew, several strands of hair grazing his face, and his clothes were wrinkled.

“There’s no easy way to begin this discussion. We’re down four counselors. Genjirō and Inkarmat are dead, and apparently some of you are missing. That means there are twelve campers without any supervision.” He pointed at Yūsaku. “Yūsaku, you’re their counselor now. We’re also down a nurse. I received a note this morning from Nurse Kano saying, ‘I’m done with this shit. You’re not paying me enough and if I see you again I’m going to skin you alive.’ Needless to say, I would appreciate it if we kept any and all injuries to a minimum.”

Shiraishi raised his hand. “What if there’s an accident?”

“There won’t be any accidents!”

It was the first time any of you heard Tsurumi raise his voice. He took a deep breath and continued speaking, his tone even.

“The police have been informed about the disappearances. They said,” he sighed, “they’ll keep in touch.”

Sugimoto’s hand shot up. “Mr. Tsurumi, I have a question.”

“Yes, Saichi.”

“Shouldn’t we cancel our activities today and go look for Vasily and Usami?”

“I see no reason to punish innocent children for our failings.”

“Aww,” Shiraishi said quietly. “That’s so sweet.”

“It’s best to leave this up to the authorities. The last thing I want is for one of you to get hurt. We’re short staffed as it is,” Tsurumi said before ending the meeting.

The campers were full of questions, but overall the day was peaceful. Target shooting went well, and the kids loved learning Russian. Whenever Tsukishima wasn’t paying attention Ogata would teach them a few swear words. They lived for it, laughing like hyenas as Tsukishima tried to figure out what was so funny. Things felt kind of normal.

Sugimoto was the one to finally suggest going on a night hike after dinner. He thought Tsurumi was stupid for not utilizing everyone in the search, and it weighed on his mind all day.

“I can’t believe the cops didn’t show up,” he said, turning on his flashlight.

“That’s illegal, right?” Shiraishi asked.

Ogata yawned. “It might be, but they don’t care.”

“Whatever,” Sugimoto said dismissively. “I’ll probably regret saying this, but I think we should split up. We’ll cover more ground.”

“I’ll go with Ogata,” you blurted out.

Sugimoto’s millisecond of confused silence opened a window for Ogata to direct the hastily thrown together operation.

“We'll go further up the mountain and check the trails. You guys stay at this elevation and search the woods. I’m sure they got lost. I’d say let’s bet on it, but I know you’re all broke.”

Shiraishi nodded, but Sugimoto looked annoyed beyond belief. You watched as they melted away into the darkness eagerly awaiting your alone time with Ogata.

“It’s better if we both have one,” he said, handing you a flashlight. “You said my name pretty fast back there.”

Your palms began to sweat. You had been too eager.

“I don’t know,” you said, pushing a low hanging branch out of your face. “Shiraishi’s been getting on my nerves.”

You cringed at your lie. Hopefully Ogata would deem it inconsequential and forget you ever said it.

“Is he really that bad?”

“Uh, well, you know… He—sometimes it’s like he’s just so obnoxious.”

“He is pretty annoying. I don’t know how you put up with him.”

“I’m, um, just really good at tolerating people. It’s hard though.”

“You’re good at hiding it.”

You were good at hiding it because you loved having Shiraishi as a partner.

“Thank you.”

“It’s too bad we weren’t paired together. Sugimoto’s an asshole,” he sighed.

The two of you walked cautiously down the trail. You grew more and more nervous as it got steeper. Every twig felt like a landmine. You kept your eyes on the ground. It proved to be a terrible idea because you ended up walking right into Ogata. He fell forward, dropping his flashlight.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” you said, cradling him in your arms.

He looked up at you. His forehead and his arms were covered in swaths of raw skin and blood. He tried to get up, but only managed to roll onto the ground. You pulled off your sweatshirt and put it under his head as a makeshift pillow.

You dug through your backpack for your first aid kit. It was nearly empty already because your group of campers loved skinning their knees. You found a few alcohol wipes and some gauze. You wanted to punch your past self for not refilling it, but now wasn’t the time for self-flagellation.

“It’s gonna sting.”

“I’m not a child. You don’t need to remind me.”

“Damn, okay,” you said, cleaning the wound on his head.

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

It was just a superficial scrape, but of course the urge to spiral was present. Despite your attempts to be optimistic your mind went to the worst places. 

I gave him a traumatic brain injury. I cracked his beautiful skull. I killed him and Mr. Tsurumi is going to be so fucking mad at me!

“No. I’m sorry. I’m the idiot that made you fall.”

“Good point. I take back my apology.”

You slapped an alcohol wipe on one of the cuts on his arm. His pained groan was like an angel singing your name.

“What day is it?” you asked, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs.

“June 8th.”

“What’s the time?”

He paused. “I don’t know. It was around 10 when we left.”

“Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Sleepy?”

“No.”

“Do you remember what ha—”

“You shoved me and I fell.”

“Shove makes it seem like it was intentional.”

“It was.”

“No it was not.”

He sat up. “Yes it was. You shoved me because you have a huge crush on me and you can’t stand it.”

“You definitely damaged your brain. Like, you’re so unwell right now. It’s sick.”

He laughed. “Don’t deny it. You can be honest with me.”

“I was looking at the ground! There were exposed roots!”

He pulled his arm away from you and grabbed you by the jaw. “If that’s all it was, why do you look nervous?”

“That’s just my face.”

“It’s a cute one.”

You panicked and tried to think of a cool, couth response, but nothing came. You just sat there, brain filled with white noise. The air was heavy; you felt like you were choking. You kept your breathing steady, but it was a herculean effort. All your energy was going into keeping yourself in one piece. The longer those four words sank in, the harder it was to retain your humanity.

It’s a cute one. It’s a cute one. It’s a cute one.

Your hesitation evaporated and you clumsily kissed him. Despite his words he seemed unimpressed with your agency, giving nothing in return. And in turn you felt nothing. It was like you were holding him hostage rather than sweeping him off his feet.

“Um, we should… go back to camp.”

The relief you felt upon finding Sugimoto and Shiraishi was immense. However your fellow counselors remained missing. You couldn’t help but feel like you were hunting for ghosts.

I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul

Much to the chagrin of Shiraishi, Tsurumi asked you to help Yūsaku and his twelve campers. It wasn’t ideal. Managing kids you weren’t familiar with was rough. They tested you left and right. They relished in lying about their names, snickering when you’d try to chastise them. They seemed to have a modicum of respect for Yūsaku though.

“How’s it going?” Shiraishi asked during your lunch.

“It’s—”

“Well I’m having a terrible time. These kids hate me. They keep asking when you’re coming back.”

You laughed. “Did you tell them never? Because I don’t see Tsurumi letting the golden boy stuck with a bunch of kids on his own.”

“It’s not like he needs you! I’m dying out there!”

“You have Sugimoto.” You sighed. “And Ogata.”

“They’re barely any help. Sugimoto’s too busy trying to solve a murder mystery like he’s Columbo. And Ogata’s too busy being his weird self. I think he’s pissed off at Hanazawa.”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know why. Maybe he’s jealous that Hanazawa is—”

“Working with me?” you asked, your eyes full of stars.

“Psh. No. Part of me thinks Ogata just wants to be Tsurumi’s pet.”

 “Oh. No yeah, you’re right.” You stared off into space. “He totally wants to be the golden boy.”

“You’re both wrong.” Ogata silently took a seat next to Shiraishi. Your head was swimming. “I just hate being here.”

“Then why glare at your brother?” Shiraishi asked haughtily.

“Are you an only child, Shiraishi?”

“Probably.”

Ogata smirked and changed the subject. “How is working with him?”

His tone wasn’t threatening, but the flatness of his gaze made you feel like you were being interrogated.

“It’s fine!” you exclaimed a bit too hurriedly. You tried to save face by tempering your tone to match the coolness of Ogata’s. “I mean, yeah, like, it’s okay. The kids like him, which is good because they can’t stand me. I don’t mind him, you know, taking the lead. He is the lead counselor.”

“It looked like he was doing all the work.”

His words were a wasp’s sting.

“You’d be stupid not to take advantage of that dork,” Shiraishi said in an attempt to bandage your wound.

“I’m not taking advantage of him.”

“Shiraishi has a point.”

“No he does not!”

“You can admit it,” Ogata teased.

“There’s nothing to admit. What am I supposed to admit?”

He paused.

“You know you hate being here just as much as everyone else.”

You glared at Ogata. “If I hated being here, I would leave.”

“Sure you would.”

“Yeah! Exactly. I would.”

Shiraishi scurried away awkwardly, though to be honest you barely noticed.

“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “How can you be so sure of something like that?”

“Because—because I know myself? This isn’t, like, some hypothetical thing. If I didn’t want to be here, I would leave. But I’m invested in whatever the fuck is going on… And I like my kids! I care about them! Okay, not the ones I have right now. Honestly fuck those ki—oh god.”

Ogata was trying to hold back a laugh. “Child hater.”

“I don’t hate kids! Even kids that are little shits. I’m just…” You carefully chose your words. “Not fond of some.” You regained your conviction. “Regardless it’s not like I could ever leave any of them behind.”

“It’s so funny.”

You tilted your head, awaiting an elaboration.

“You all say the same thing. The way you say it is different, but—”

“What are you talking about?”

He stood up and patted you on the head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

You thought about chasing after him, but there was only ten minutes left of your lunch and you hadn’t even touched your food. You choked it down and searched for Yūsaku. You found him sitting in the grass, telling the kids one of his numerous summer camp tales.

“And that’s how I learned you should never eat mud.”

You joined their circle. “How was the jigen-ryū class?”

“Boring,” one chirped.

“Lame,” another admitted.

“I hate Mr. Koito.” one said bluntly. “Why does he scream so much?”

Yūsaku nervously chastised the kids.

You giggled. “That’s a great question. But I have an even better one: who wants to have a canoe race?”

The kids were eager for normalcy, typical summer fun, and you couldn’t blame them. You sought it yourself. Anything to shake off your conversation with Ogata. You felt like it poked holes in your brain. You hoped in utter desperation that the laughter of children and the afternoon sunlight dancing across Yūsaku’s precious face would fill them.

And for a brief moment they did. But Ogata remained a looming presence. He was so distracting you came dead last in the race. Your eyes couldn’t focus on anything other than him watching from a distance like a hunter.

A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned

You went to bed early that night though you failed to drift away. You were in a fetal position, snuggled up in your sleeping bag, looking up at the Milky Way through your window for hours. You couldn’t get Ogata out of your mind.

“Idiot,” you murmured as you flipped over onto your back, not sure if you were calling him an idiot or yourself.

You stretched out and took up every inch of your bed. Your joints popped, the satisfaction from the sound soothed your soul. There was the chance this was as worse as it would get. Yes, people were dropping like flies, disappearing mysteriously. Yes, the camp director was a blatant freak. Yes, Ogata was fucking with your head. But the canoe race was normal! It was benign and expected! Those moments were few and far between so far. Maybe this was a good omen, a sneak peak of the placidity that was going to follow.

Pretending to be optimistic successfully lulled you to sleep. But rapid, and somehow pathetic, pounding on your cabin door ripped you from your slumber. You groaned audibly, hoping whoever was in desperate need of your attention would feel a semblance of shame. You got out of bed at a sloth’s pace and sighed before opening the door.

“Are you busy?” Ogata asked.

“I was sleeping.”

He gently pushed you out of the way and entered the cabin, a stiffness and urgency embodied in the swift movement. Your grip on consciousness was tenuous at best so you didn’t protest.

“Everything, uh, good?” you asked.

“If I said I wanted to apologize, would you believe me?”

You scoffed. “Not after asking me that.”

He sat down on your bed, and you struggled to hide your disgust. You couldn’t stop thinking about the fetid remnants of the woods that lingered on his sweatpants. Having him take them off crossed your mind.

“Well I am.”

“You’re what?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it… All the stuff I said.”

“You sure about that?”

He attempted to smooth down a strand of his hair. A hoarse mhm resonated in his throat.

“You’re so easy to rile up. I couldn’t resist.”

“Well,” you groaned. “Thanks. I guess.”

You figured he’d get up and leave, but instead his presence lingered, growing heavier by the second. His eyes were restless, his body tense.

“Do you mind if I stay the night?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the floor.

It was such an abrupt question. All you could do was choke out an affirmation. You knew kicking him out was the smart thing to do, but his perceived permanence on your bed overwhelmed you. The rational voice in your head grew fainter, your lust forcing its way through your papery veil of self-preservation. You were nothing more than your repressed urges.

“Are you sure?”

Dumb question. You’d never been so sure of something in your life. You couldn’t recall any form of previous trepidation though you weren’t trying particularly hard to do so.

“Yeah,” you answered, sitting beside him.

You leaned in. His sweatshirt smelled like wet leaves and copper. You used his thigh to steady yourself. He turned his head, his dark eyes looking through you. It was unnerving, but not enough to trigger common sense.

“Aren’t you hot?” you asked, laughing as the question tumbled from your mouth. His answer didn’t matter. “You’re making me sweat.”

You tugged at his sweatshirt. It felt dirty, heavy with sweat and earth. He took it off without a stitch of hesitation. Your eyes trailed down his arms, longing for them to be wrapped around you. It was the only way you’d make it through the night.

“I run cold,” he practically purred.

Cliche comments ran through your head.

That’s so funny because I could totally keep you warm, big boy.

I’m burning up, why don’t you cool me off with your stupid, gorgeous body?

“That’s cool.” Your brain shut down. “I want you.”

Your bluntness seemed to please him. His lips curled into a half smile before he pulled you into a kiss. He wasted no time, pushing his tongue past your teeth. He caressed your cheek as his tongue brushed up against yours, soft and warm. He pulled you onto his lap and rubbed the inside of your thigh with his rough hands. You tugged at his shirt, the cotton damp with sweat. He lifted it up and pulled it off, letting it drop on the floor.

“You should lie down,” you said, breath hot against his neck.

“Am I easier to take advantage of that way?”

“Excuse me?”

Your question went unheeded and he reclined on your bed, beckoning you to straddle him. You looked down at his body, muscles perfectly toned like they were crafted by the gods. He looked so pleased with himself, like he’d won an award. His cock was hard against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. It ached against you.

You studied his face. There were a few faint, red scratches across his cheek. You ran your thumb down one, feeling the slightly swollen skin. He winced.

“What happened?” you asked.

He exhaled. “I fell.”

“Like recently or?”

“On my way over.”

“How?”

His right eye twitched.

“I tripped,” he said, words clipped.

“On what?”

You never knew him to be clumsy, if anything he was rather feline in his agility. His fingers dug deeper into your hips before rolling you onto your back and getting on top of you. He pressed his rough palm over your lips.

“Hush.” His tone was nauseatingly sweet.

“I’m serious, are you okay?” you asked, voice muffled by his hand.

He titled his head and stared into your eyes with a calculated gaze.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be so talkative?”

It was astounding how easy it was for him to shut you down. Granted you weren’t steadfast when it came to Ogata. You couldn’t take a firm stance. How could you hold onto a belief when you couldn’t predict his reaction to it? You wanted to be palatable and if that meant bending like a willow to his incomprehensible will then so be it.

“You’re so cute,” he said, removing his hand. “You’re like a scared deer.”

He lifted up the oversized t-shirt you liked to sleep in and pulled off your underwear. His fingers grazed your folds, coating them in your arousal. You swallowed hard, spit catching in your throat, as he slid them into your cunt. They curled inside you, pressing against your walls. The pressure made your skin tingle.

His gaze was attentive but cold. You felt studied, examined. It bred a twinge of looming uncertainty, one that settled in your stomach. But he didn’t hesitate with a remedy. He pushed his fingers as far as they could go and began fucking you with them. Your concern disappeared as fast as it came. Your eyes glazed over, ensnared by the man looming over you. You tried in vain to hold back your pleased whimpers.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re falling apart so fast.” His lips grazed your lobe.

Apologizing crossed your mind, but you kept your mouth shut. You writhed underneath his weight, rutting up against his fingers as they fucked your slick cunt.

Your hands wandered down his back. His skin was soft and sticky with sweat. You let your fingers trail down his spine before settling on the crest of his ass. You yanked down his briefs and dug your fingers into the taut flesh. He flashed an impish smile and pulled them down, kicking them off. The head of his cock was leaking precum. He tugged on it and bathed in your starved gaze.

“You want me so bad,” he said haughtily. “Tell me how bad you want me.”

You sighed as he jerked himself off. “I feel like I’ll die if you don’t fuck me.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I need you.”

“Then beg for it,” he growled.

“Please. Please fuck me.”

He rubbed his cock up against your folds. “Say my name.”

“Please fuck me, Hyakunosuke. Please. Please. Please.”

He nuzzled your neck and pressed his cocktip against your clit. “More.”

You continued to plead, body aching for him to fuck you. He guided his cock inside you, its girth stretching your tight cunt. He groaned as he pushed it in further. His movements were slow, and he seemed to relish in your whimpering.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he commanded as he thrust into you.

“Really good. Really fucking good,” you babbled.

He let out a pleased sigh and fully submerged his length within you. His tip pressed up against your cervix, sending a shock to your core. You yelped as he pushed against it harder.

“Such a big cock for such a precious little thing.”

His thrusts drove you into the mattress, making your cot creak. His touch wasn’t gentle. He didn’t hesitate to bend your body to his liking, to show off his strength. It was deliciously overwhelming. He laced his fingers in your hair and pulled. He manhandled your legs to get them over his shoulders. You knew his force would leave blooms of bruises on your ankles, bruises you’d have to explain away when your friends inquired about your life after hours.

Being at his will was exciting.

“Do you like getting fucked like a whore?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned.

He grinned. You wanted to lick his teeth, but settled for hugging his cock with your cunt.

“Fuck,” he hissed, jaw clenched. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

His pace quickened and his breathing grew labored. He seemed weakened by his impending climax. His eyes were softer, his words lacked their previous domineering weight. He looked like he was in agony. Seeing him fall apart made your clit throb. It was almost too much. Your body was immersed in euphoria, drowning in an obscene amount of debauched delight. To finally experience something you craved for so long was almost maddening. So many times you dreamt about him lording over your body under the serene light of the moon. And now you were living it out.

You wanted him to come first, to feel his cum flood your cunt, but your body wasn’t on the same page. Your impending climax was bubbling up inside you. Resisting it was a futile feat. What good was it to deny yourself such ecstasy?

“Harder,” you moaned.

He repositioned himself so he could drive his cock deeper in. You felt like you were going to burst. You dug your fingers into your mattress, gripping the tangled up sheets. The feeblest attempt to keep yourself tethered to this world lest you ascend to an Icarus end. Your back arched as a numinous groan crept up from the depths of your being, a simple carnal prayer. A cluster of whimpers followed in its wake.

Every inch of tension melted away as you let your orgasm consume you. You nearly forgot where you were until you heard Ogata’s pained voice.

“Where do you want it?” he asked urgently.

“Inside, inside,” you babbled.

He grimaced and pulled his cock out of your dripping cunt. He straddled your chest and held your head, forcing you to crane your neck. He pushed his cock past your lips and rutted against your face. His touch became gentle, hands almost cradling the base of your skull. He held you like you were fragile, like he could rip you to pieces if he lacked restraint.

“Look up at me,” he groaned as his cum splattered against the back of your throat.

You looked up at him, as he continued to thrust. Spurts of his piquant cum filled your mouth. You thought it would never end. Tears welled up in your eyes as his cum trickled from the corners of your mouth. Once his cock stopped twitching he placed his hand on your forehead and pushed you off. He then rolled over onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling.

“Um,” you said, crashing back into reality. 

You hoped no one heard what happened. Your cabin was the one closest to the outskirts of everything, but still. Your cot’s incessant squeaking plagued you. Your breathy moans haunted you. Ogata’s audible grunting was a dark cloud swirling above your head. You missed your fucked out state of mind. You debated on chasing it. You thought about grabbing his semi-erect cock, but the feeling faded from your grasp. It didn’t help that he looked completely dissociated from the situation.

“Hyaku,” you paused, his first name felt too intimate, ”Ogata?”

You rolled over onto your side and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Sure,” he said before turning his back to you.

“Okay,” you replied, molding your body beside his.

You expected him to scoot away from you, or retire to the unforgiving floor. But instead he pressed himself up against you. You draped an arm over him and nuzzled your face against his undercut as you drifted away.

Life is the farce we are all forced to endure

Waking up alone wasn’t a surprise though it was still disappointing.

The sun roused you, making you painfully aware of your lack of clothes and the dried cum in the corners of your mouth. Visions of a relaxing shower danced through your mind. You could practically feel the steam surrounding you. However, leaving your cabin was precarious. No one could see you like this, skittering around and clutching your toiletries like they were gold. You’d wither away if perceived.

“I got this,” you whispered to no one in particular.

You stepped out into the morning light. It felt early. You didn’t hear any kids or any sort of chatter which was a relief. The outside world was safe; it was secure. You took a deep breath and took in the fresh air.

“Good morning.”

Your exhale lodged itself in your throat, forcing out a pathetic cough.

“Fuck. I mean good morning, Mr. Tsurumi.”

He looked tired, less triumphant, and part of you wondered if he was going to kill you.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be up this early.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be either,” you said, trying to mask your discomfort. “Anyway—”

He interrupted your attempt at a polite getaway. “How well do you know Yūsaku?”

“Uh. I guess about as well as you can know anyone given the amount of ti—”

“Did he seem unhappy? Dissatisfied?”

“That sunburn made him pretty miserable.”

He studied you. “Anything beyond that?”

“I—yeah no, I think that’s, uh, the only thing.”

“I see. Well I won’t keep you any longer.”

You simply smiled and nodded. Once he was out of sight you sprinted to the showers, eager for the cleanly embrace of its solitude. It was exactly what you wanted, what you needed. You needed to wash away whatever that conversation had been. You couldn’t figure out why he was so curious about Yūsaku. Your relationship with him was friendly but superficial. You wouldn’t know how to describe him in any meaningful way if prompted to, but made an attempt anyway.

He’s Ogata’s half-brother. He can tell two different stories about eating mud as a little kid. He sucks at putting on sunscreen. His eyelashes are pretty. He has a general golden boy vibe that is almost insufferably charming.

You knew essentially nothing. Whereas you could write an entire thesis regarding the random facts about Shiraishi you learned against your will.

You spent the entirety of your shower, wracking your brain over the camp director’s questioning. Unfortunately your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. The night before lingered around you like a ghostly shroud. Your legs were peppered with bruises and your hips were sore. There were so many random aches echoing throughout your body.

By the time you were done the shrill voices of children flooded the camp. You hurriedly made your way back to your cabin, careful to avoid running into anyone. But despite the painstaking  care you took, there was Shiraishi pawing at your door anxiously like a dog.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He didn’t bother answering your question. “They’re sending all the kids home.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yup. A few parents have already come by. Tsurumi wants to sit us all down and talk about what we’re gonna do.”

“We’re all going to leave, right?”

“Well we got all this shit here. The canoes. The food. The giant shogi pieces. All of that needs to get packed up probably. Do you think we’ll still get paid even if there’s no kids to watch?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“I heard something kinda messed up though.” You stepped closer to him and he continued, his voice low. “I overheard Koito saying some shit to Tsukishima about another body being found.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yeah. They left maybe an hour ago. I doubt they’re coming back. I saw them pack—”

“Okay whatever. Whose body?”

Shiraishi shushed you. “Yūsaku’s.”

“Shut up.”

“Tsurumi found him hanging in the forest.”

“Like hanging out, right? With his brother maybe?” you asked desperately.

“Nope.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?”

“Relax! Maybe I heard wrong.”

You took a measured breath and distanced yourself from this loss. “It makes sense. Tsurumi was asking me about Yūsaku this morning. He wanted to know if Yūsaku was sad or, I don’t know, depressed I guess.”

“Did he seem—”

“No, but not all suicidal people act like outwardly suicidal.”

“So you think he killed himself?”

“Fuck no,” you sneered. “I bet Tsurumi did. That’s why he was asking me about him. He wanted to come up with an alibi, or a reason for Yūsaku to have done something like that.”

Shiraishi looked a little nervous. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not jump the gun.”

You pushed him away from the door and dropped your stuff off. On the walk to the mess hall you watched as kids crawled into massive minivans and sleek electric cars. They were a resilient bunch. You admired their ability to withstand the trauma murder reaped. It sucked to see them go, but this camp was no place for their kind.

You felt oddly numb in the wake of Yūsaku’s apparent demise, especially as you sat amongst the camp’s dwindling numbers. It was just you, Shiraishi, Sugimoto, Ogata, and that freak Tsurumi. You all sat in a circle around an ashen fire pit, sipping coffee. It was bitter, the acidic taste boring holes through your tongue.

“It pains me to say this,” Tsurumi began.

“We all know about Yūsaku,” Shiraishi yawned.

His lack of tact made you want to crawl into your mug and drown.

“Oh, I wasn’t going to start off with that but…” He sighed. “As you all apparently know Yūsaku is no longer with us.”

“Did he go home?” Ogata asked.

“Shut up,” Sugimoto hissed.

Tsurumi ignored the chatter and continued. You struggled to focus. Your mind drifted off into fantasies of catching the camp director in the act and getting the hero treatment for saving the day. They were fun scenarios to entertain, but deep down you didn’t crave glory or even recognition. You just wanted to be right.

To no one’s surprise Tsurumi managed to convince everyone to stay one more night in order to return the camp to its previous barren state. It was depressing to snuff out the last remnants of the camp’s life, but necessary so Tsurumi could get back his security deposit. It was impressive to see how impermanent everything was. What took a week to create was dismantled within a day, a notion that haunted you to no end. You hated to think everything was so transient. It beckoned you to hold on tighter to your memories, to the bonds you fostered. If they were going to be ripped away, they would be marred with ghostly reminders of your feral grip.

Throughout the day you orbited around Ogata, searching for tasks that required you to be near him. Despite your attempts to be discreet, anyone with a brain could see your passive clinginess. You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but you didn’t want to risk an awkward conversation. When you finally built up the confidence to speak to him he was swept away by a bored sheriff wearing mirrored sunglasses.

“Wonder what they’re talking about,” Shiraishi said, startling you.

“Yūsaku obviously,” you scoffed as you swept the porch of a cabin. “Whatever. It’s not like I care.”

He laughed loud enough to grab the attention of the sheriff. Ogata was undisturbed.

“I feel bad for him.”

“Yeah?”

Shiraishi frowned. “Yeah, like his brother’s dead. He’s a total weirdo with no friends. And he’s short.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re shorter than him.”

“I am, but I’m sexy and have friends.”

Ogata was sexy, but you opted to keep that to yourself.

“Okay, and?” you said bristling with annoyance. “Go bother someone else.”

“I actually had a reason for bugging you. Sugimoto wants to make s’mores tonight because we have a bunch of marshmallows. I was thinking we could turn it into a mini party.”

“A final hurrah.”

“Exactly!” he said as he walked away.

S’mores and cold beer sounded nice, but not nearly as nice as another night with Ogata. You watched as he stared lazily at the sheriff, his posture loose and mildly defiant. He wasn’t naive enough to believe Yūsaku hung himself. He must have caught onto how strange Tsurumi was. There was no way he hadn’t. He was perceptive. You couldn’t help but feel as though you were kindred spirits.

When the sheriff finally left you decided to approach him.

“Hey,” you said gently. “I just wanted to, you know…uh. I’m really sorry about your brother.”

“Why? Did you make him kill himself?” he said, his gaze friendly yet cold.

You laughed and shifted uncomfortably.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay. Is there anything I can do?”

“Hmm. I don’t know.” He closed the distance you kept. “How far are you willing to go to comfort me?”

“A normal amount. If you need to talk or anything, I don’t mind listening.”

“Would you mind choking on my cock again? I found that to be very soothing.”

Ogata’s words were grotesque rather than alluring. You couldn’t help but feel like he was just trying to scare you off. His vulgarity lacked any sort of intensity. The threat was hollow. You swallowed hard and tried to look less timid.

“Don’t be an asshole. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

He looked thoroughly amused. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You patted his shoulder with a platonic, heavy hand and headed off in a random direction. You were too frazzled to think that far ahead, but you walked into the woods with faux confidence.

All filthy memories fade out

You sighed in relief as the sun sunk into the horizon. Making s’mores and getting drunk by a fire sounded like the only suitable end for such a horrific venture. Shiraishi and Sugimoto met you by your cabin and aided you in crafting a fire pit.

“It’s so fucked up we never made these with the kids,” Sugimoto sighed, puncturing three marshmallows with a two-pronged skewer specially made for the act.

You sipped your beer. “We failed them.”

Shiraishi nodded. “We may be the dream team, but we weren’t perfect.”

“The what?!” Sugimoto struggled not to laugh as he crafted a picturesque s’more.

“Wh—who? Who’s the dream team?” you asked.

“Us! Me, you, and Sugimoto… obviously.”

“I had no idea.”

“I never said it out loud until now,” Shiraishi said solemnly.

It was hard to deny. The chaos that was camp proved to be a great conduit for bonding despite the horrors. You never would have made it through without Shiraishi’s humor and Sugimoto’s kindness.

“Dream team, huh?” Sugimoto said with a smile blooming across his face.

You punched Shiraishi in the arm. “Cute. I like it.”

Shiraishi blushed and shifted his gaze to the case of beer.

“How does the dream team feel about shotgunning some beers?”

Shotgunning some beers turned into shotgunning several. Stabbing the cans and chugging like your life depended on it was addicting. By the end of it you were all in a hazy trance. You collapsed down into your chair with too much vigor, sending yourself backwards into the dirt. You cackled like a witch.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Sugimoto asked. He was unable to hide his amused smile.

He held out his hand and hoisted you up. Shiraishi watched on, tears in his eyes, and stabbed another beer with his pocket knife. Beer spurted out of the hole and it sprayed all over. A dramatic “noooooooooo!" erupted from him as he tried in vain to suckle the rest of the beer out of the can. Sugimoto could barely hold himself together and lost his balance, sending you back into the unforgiving dirt and landing directly on you. His body was so heavy you thought you were going to suffocate. Luckily he rolled off of you within a second, wheezing with laughter.

The comedy of errors was too much. Not a single one of you went unscathed.

“I’m so sorry,” Sugimoto choked out.

You stood up and brushed the dust off of your body. “It’s okay. I’m alive. I made it. I survived.”

“You know,” Sugimoto said, still sitting in the dirt. “I’m really gonna miss you guys.”

“We’ll have to meet up again before summer ends.”

Shiraishi wiped the beer from his lips. “That’s assuming we live.”

“Dude! Not funny.” Sugimoto threw an empty can at Shiraishi. It missed.

“I’ll probably die next,” you replied thoughtfully. “Tsurumi’s gonna catch on and have to silence me.”

“Stop!”

Shiraishi corrected you. “No, no. It’ll be me.”

“Yeah, you know what. It’ll be Shiraishi, and then you. And then me.”

Shiraishi pouted. “What makes you so sure you’ll live the longest?”

“I’m immortal, dumb ass.”

“If you’re immortal, why not protect us?” you suggested.

“Yeah!”

“I’ll obviously do that! That goes without saying!”

You looked at him, doe-eyed. “Promise?”

He stood up, his balance shakier than ever. It didn’t inspire much confidence in his ability to protect you, but you chose to believe in his conviction.

“As long as I am here, neither of you will die. I… I love you guys s—so much.”

“Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry. And I hate crying in the woods.”

You heard rustling in the distance. Sugimoto and Shiraishi didn’t seem to notice so you chalked it up to your intoxication. You focused your attention on the delightful little bars of artisan chocolate Yūsaku bought for the kids. Your stomach had been growling, begging for something other than beer.

“Gimme the stick thingy,” you barked at Sugimoto.

“Is that any way to ask me for something?”

“You’re talking like a caveman.”

You groaned. “Please give me a, uh,” you gestured towards the skewer resting at Sugimoto’s feet, “that item. Please, good sir.”

Shiraishi applauded your efforts like a real friend and spoke words of affirmation as you struggled to make a s’more. Neither of them stepped in to help you. They appeared to find your tribulation much too entertaining, and you were much too drunk to ask for assistance. However you managed to make four. The sloppiness didn’t detract from the flavor which was all that mattered.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Shiraishi said. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m tired.”

Sugimoto stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Yeah, I have a long drive tomorrow. I’m not trying to fall asleep at the wheel.”

It was almost painful to part ways. A little sliver of you was afraid to enter your cabin on your own. You knew there was no reason to be scared. It wasn’t as if Tsurumi was hiding inside, waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab you. There was no way he could have snuck past you, Shiraishi, and Sugimoto. One of you would have seen him, or at the very least heard him.

Your heart began to pound. You had heard something lurking about in the woods. It very well could’ve been him. Maybe you were too drunk to be vigilant and maybe Tsurumi took advantage of that. Your hand trembled as you reached for the doorknob. Your fear was heavy and looming. It was like you were slowly being crushed. Every inhale felt like it was catching in your throat. You slowly twisted the knob and pressed your weight up against the door.

“Hello?” you asked as if an assailant would actually respond.

You flipped the switch and your room was filled with soft, incandescent light. There was no one in sight, not a soul. The relief you felt was almost overwhelming. Your terror was replaced by a pleasant drowsiness. Sleeping through the night with no interruptions wouldn’t be a pipe dream.

And it seemed to be going along quite well…

Until you had to pee of course. The urge hit you like a truck. You sprung up out of bed and ran all the way to the bathroom, hoping you’d make it in time. You regretted drinking so much. If it hadn’t been for the beer you might have gotten an uninterrupted six hours.

Luckily you made it to the bathroom in time, but on your walk back you became keenly aware of the fact you were still quite drunk.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhh,” you moaned as you trudged back.

You passed Tsurumi’s cabin and it triggered a deep desire to indulge in some snooping. Moonlighting as a drunk detective seemed like an incredible idea.

There were no lights on in his cabin, which wasn’t odd considering it was the middle of the night. But everything seemed vaguely ominous given your state of mind and your desire to prove he was the murderer. You peeked in his window and saw him sleeping. He was face down, body spread out like a starfish.

“What a freak.”

“You’re the one watching him sleep.”

You spun around and saw Ogata. You opened your mouth to scream but he covered it. His hand was damp and smelled like soap. He looked unkempt, and seemed a little frazzled.

“I can explain,” you whispered.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe. Listen!”

He shushed you and grabbed you by the wrist. He dragged you away from Tsurumi’s window.

“Can I talk now?” You didn’t wait for an answer. “I think Tsurumi is killing everyone.”

He looked thoroughly amused. “What makes you so sure—”

“He’s a total fucking weirdo, Ogata! He, you know, like… Okay, I don’t have solid proof. But he did ask me about your brother. He was like ‘Ohhh, do you think Yūsaku was suicidal? Did he seem like a little sad boy with little sad boy problems?’ And I was like, ‘No.’ And he was like all… whatever.” You hiccuped. “Why would he ask me that if he wasn’t trying to find a way to cover up his crime?”

“You did work with Yūsaku. I don’t think it’s weird that Tsurumi would ask you about him. If I were him, you would be one of the first people I’d talk to.”

“Ogataaaaaaaaaa,” you whined. “Don’t be a shit.”

“All I’m saying is the two of you seemed close.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“I think he had a crush on you,” he teased.

“He didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t blame him for having one.”

You gave up on protesting. It wasn’t like he was actually listening to you. You turned your gaze towards the ground. It was then you noticed what looked like rusty stains on his shoes.

“You really shouldn’t wear white shoes.”

He looked confused.

“Yours are always s—so dirty.”

He stared down at his shoes and smiled. “I like them this way.”

You shrugged. “Anyway. I think Tsurumi poisoned Tanigaki with mushrooms.”

“What about Inkarmat? Usami? Vasi—”

“When did they find Usami and Vasily?!”

He paused. “They didn’t. I thought maybe you had an explanation for them going missing.”

“Oh. No. I haven’t really thought about them. Is that fucked up?”

“A little, but I like it when you’re fucked up.”

He leaned in and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You tried to let yourself fall into the moment, to let yourself be enraptured by him once more. But you felt uneasy. A part of you was screaming at you to stop. Your entire body tensed up and you pushed him away.

“Not here,” you sighed.

“Why not?” he said, rubbing the small of your back.

“What if someone sees?”

“There’s no one to see us.”

With your luck Shiraishi and Sugimoto would see you wrapped up in Ogata’s arms and never let you live it down. A greater horror would be Tsurumi catching you. He would have no issue disposing you.

Ogata didn’t share this concern. He simply shoved his fingers down your shorts and rubbed your clit through your underwear.

“You don’t need to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. I don’t want to get caught.”

“Hmm,” he purred as he nuzzled his face in your neck. “Getting caught could be fun. We could finally reveal our true nature.”

His wording puzzled you.

“Wait, what true nature? That we’re fucking?” you asked.

“Don’t play dumb.”

He let his fingers graze your cunt. His touch was hypnotic. You felt like you were melting in his arms. The world around you faded away, your concerns were nonexistent. Everything was a distraction queued for destruction. He kissed your neck, his stubble tickling you. You felt his teeth graze your skin. A smile crept across your face as he bit into it. Your knees buckled as he bit down a little harder. Your head was spinning.

“I need to taste you,” he said against your neck, pulling down your clothes.

The night air was brisk against the skin of your ass. He kissed the nape of your neck as he hands traveled down your waist, stopping at the dip of your hips. He got on his knees and stared up at you, eyes dark with ardor, before giving your clit a languid lick.

He lapped at your cunt like a starved animal. It was like he was trying to consume you. You felt so desired, so adored. His tongue was dizzying. You nearly lost your balance as he buried his face in between your thighs. He grunted and gripped your ass to steady you.

You gasped as he dug his fingers deeper into your skin. His sweetness was always tinged with a little cruelty. You felt like you were falling in love with him whenever he was rough with you. Your pleasure seemed endless. It was something to get lost in. He shielded you from the tragedy that had overtaken your life.

You ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re so good at this.”

“I know,” he groaned.

His haughtiness was unfortunately warranted. He could work wonders with his mouth. He rolled his tongue against your throbbing clit. Your knees trembled as your orgasm began to bloom. You tried to speak but all you could do was whimper his name. You felt like you were floating away.

Moaning soon became the only thing you were capable of doing. Your body was limp and swollen with lust. The only reason you were upright was because of Ogata’s steadying grip.

“Are you really going to come already?” he teased.

“Yes!” you choked out.

He held your clit between his lips and sucked. Your head rolled back and you murmured a string of obscenities. Euphoria wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the heights you were ascending to. You drenched his face with your arousal as your orgasm echoed through you.

“Sor—”

Your demure apology was interrupted by a pained moan coming from the distance. You crashed back down to earth.

“Did you hear that?” you asked.

Ogata didn’t respond. He simply stood up and wiped his chin.

“Let me walk you back to your cabin.”

“Uh, yeah sure. But did you hear that? It sounded like a person.”

“I didn’t hear anything. Your paranoia is getting the best of you.” He grabbed you by the hand. “Come on.”

He didn’t say a single word on the walk back. He didn’t even look at you. You felt like a ghost.

“Thanks… for escorting me.”

“It’s no problem,” he said with a smile.

You were convinced you would never fully understand him, that he would always keep you on your toes. And maybe that was the appeal. It was a danger you didn’t mind dancing with, something low stakes in comparison to people getting fucking murdered.

With my eyes closed I offered myself to the sun

It was your final day and you jumped at the opportunity to interrogate Tsurumi. It didn’t matter if you were the only one that thought he was the cause of all the camp’s calamity. The lack of faith from your friends didn’t deter you in the least. You knew you were right and soon everyone else would know as well.

“What the?”

You saw a heap in the distance, something keeled over just beyond the trees. The sun sliced through them, drowning whatever it was in unforgiving light. You heard the faint buzzing of flies and your stomach dropped. The familiar sensation of spit pooling in your mouth triggered a lethal anxiety within you.

Every step you took made you more and more nauseous. A horrid smell swarmed your nostrils. You couldn’t help but gag.

“No,” you said quietly, looking down at the heap.

It was Sugimoto, face down. His arms were stretched in front of him, fingers caked with dirt.

“Saichi, get up.” You squatted beside him. A prayer circle of jet black ants surrounded his body. “Get up. You’re supposed to keep me and Shiraishi safe, remember?”

There was no hope and yet you tried to hold onto it. You wanted to roll him over, thinking maybe you could rouse him. You saw it in movies all the time, the classic fake-out death trope. You’d slap him around, maybe yell and cry a bit, and his eyes would flutter open. He would apologize for worrying you and you’d tease him for how rank he smelled.

“Oh fuck!” you screamed as you rolled him onto his back.

His chin was coated with dried blood. His stomach had been cut open, entrails butchered and hanging out. You looked just beyond his body and saw a trail of blood and intestines. You started to sob. Sugimoto didn’t deserve to suffer such a heinous demise. Why couldn’t Tsurumi have just killed him outright? Why did he have to exercise his will with such cruelty? You hated him and his flagrant barbarity. Your rage washed over you. The desire to throw yourself over his mauled body and wail was extinguished.

“I’m so sorry,” you cooed, stroking his hair. “Tsurumi’s not getting away with this.”

In order to properly avenge Sugimoto you needed Shiraishi, but you didn’t even know if Shiraishi was alive. You grabbed Sugimoto’s pocket knife and bolted to Shiraishi’s cabin. You kicked the door in and all you saw was an unmade bed, empty bags of marshmallows, and all of his belongings scattered around an empty duffle bag.

You kept running out of sheer desperation, searching Shiraishi’s usual haunts to no avail. He must have been killed too, another counselor disappeared by that freak Tsurumi.

Your bravado began to melt away. The more you thought about it the more you realized you likely couldn’t hold your own against Tsurumi. You were nothing without the dream team.

There was always Ogata, but if Sugimoto was slain by Tsurumi with such ease then Ogata didn’t stand a chance. You were enshrouded in a sinking loneliness. It made every step an ordeal but you continued your march to Tsurumi’s cabin.

Your head was swimming by the time you got there. You didn’t even notice the door was already open. As you stepped inside you heard a series of loud, wet thwacks.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

Ogata stood over Tsurumi’s twitching body, bashing in his skull with the butt of his own shotgun. Pale foam seeped from his parted lips. You watched in horror as his face gradually became unrecognizable carnage with each of Ogata’s blows.

“Why?” you squeaked.

“What do you mean why? I did this for you.”

“This is not what I wanted.”

“Yes it is. You thought he was killing all your friends and it bothered you enough that you whined to me about it.”

“I didn’t tell you those things because I wanted you to kill him! Fuck! Now the cops are going to think you killed everyone!”

He cocked his head to the side and stared at you. You froze in place like a deer in front of a speeding truck. He looked gutted.

“I did kill everyone.”

You bursted into laughter. “No you fucking didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“Stop it! No you didn’t!”

He stepped over Tsurumi’s corpse, gun still in his hand. You backed out the door, trying to keep distance.

“Yes I did,” he said. In the sunlight you saw how much of Tsurumi’s blood ended up on him. He was dappled with crimson splotches. “That’s why you told me about Tsurumi. You wanted him gone and you knew I’d take care of it.”

Your mouth was agape. You refused to believe him.

“You—you’re not serious. Please tell me you’re not serious. Please.”

“I’m se—”

“No! Shut up! You didn’t do it. You didn’t do any of it. You… You couldn’t. Right? Right?!”

His disappointment was palpable.

“Why are you acting like this? You knew what you were doing when you talked to me about him.”

“I never said I wanted you to kill him! I never fucking said that!”

“Stop screaming. I’m right here.”

Your eyes were becoming glassy. Tears were imminent. 

“I never said that,” you said quietly.

“You didn’t have to. I knew what you wanted. We see things the same way. You hated all of them as much as I did.”

“What? I didn’t hate any of them.”

“Oh so you liked Usami?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead.”

He sighed heavily. “You don’t need to pretend anymore. They’re all gone.”

“Pretend? I’m not pretending.”

“Drop the act. I didn’t mind it before, but now there’s no reason for you to hide yourself from me.”

Everything was spinning around you. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was absurd for him to think you harbored as much hatred as he did. Sure, some of your fellow counselors got on your nerves, but being annoying wasn’t a death sentence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not hiding anything.”

He tried to pat down his unruly lock of hair. “So you’re saying I’m wrong? You’re nothing like me?”

“Yes! I could never dream of being as monstrous as you! How fucked up do you have to be to decide you can just kill people for, I don’t know, being annoying or stupid or whatever?”

“It’s not like I intended on killing everyone. I just wanted Yūsaku gone, but then I caught Tanigaki and Inkarmat 69ing by the lake and it spiraled from there.”

“Th—that’s why you killed them?”

“It was disgusting, okay.”

“Was it more disgusting than what we did?”

He glared at you. “What we did wasn’t disgusting. Tanigaki and Inkarmat didn’t actually care about each other.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They barely knew each other. You can’t like someone that much after, what, a week?”

“Does that mean we don’t like each other?”

“No!” He took a measured breath and regained composure. “It’s different with us. You know me. You understand me.”

“I don’t understand you at all.”

“But you were… so nice to me.”

Neither of you spoke. The only sound was the wind cutting through the trees. You thought back to old conversations you had with him and tried to see where your ignorance blinded you. There were plenty of times you should have known it was Ogata, but you were so caught up in blaming Tsurumi for everything.

It was hard to reconcile the man you had your heart set on was a cold blooded killer. You wanted your feelings to subside, but they remained despite his horrendous crimes. Part of you needed to fix him, to save him from himself. Maybe if you had caught on sooner you could have stopped him. There were so many what-ifs running through your mind you almost forgot where you were.

“Did it not mean anything to you?” he asked.

“What?”

“Being nice to me. Was it an obligation?”

“No. I think… most people deserve kindness.”

“Even someone like me?”

You tried to ignore the shotgun in his hand. “Yes… especially you, Hyakunosuke.”

“After everything I’ve done?”

“Ye—yes.”

“Liar.”

He aimed the gun under his chin and pulled the trigger. You tried to catch him in your arms, but you weren’t strong enough to carry that weight. You fell to your knees and cradled him. His face was nothing but an open wound. You wept as his blood seeped into your clothes.

“You were never an obligation.” 

You wiped away your tears and got his blood in your eye. It burned, but it was nothing compared to the sinking feeling in your heart.

“Holy shit!!”

Shiraishi came barrelling out of the woods. His lip was busted and he had dried blood under his nose.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?” 

Shiraishi kneeled in front of you. You looked down and noticed his hand was resting in what used to be Ogata’s face.

“Shiraishi, your hand.”

He fell backwards and kicked himself away from Ogata’s corpse. He wiped his hand in the dirt.

“He, uh, didn’t hurt me. I’m fine… I thought you were dead.”

“Nah. I just let him beat the shit out of me and pretended to be dead. I didn’t think he’d fall for it. Have you seen Sugimoto?”

“He… he didn’t make it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shiraishi helped move Ogata off of you. He looked horrified once he saw how much of Ogata’s blood had ended up on you. The coppery scent was impossible to ignore.

You were thankful Shiraishi was still alive. He took charge for a change, deciding your best course of action was to go to the mess hall and contact the authorities. It wasn’t until you got there that he realized his phone was dead. You both sat in silence as it charged.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked after checking his battery life.

You nodded.

“Did you like Ogata?”

You didn’t want to admit it. You couldn’t imagine a world where Shiraishi would understand the complexity of your feelings. He never liked Ogata in the first place.

You tried to slaughter the sentimental romantic inside you. You thought about how mean Ogata could be, the awful things he’d say to you. You thought about Sugimoto and how he tried to drag himself to your cabin despite being gutted like a fish.

“No,” you scoffed. 

Ogata was right. You were a liar.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

We will protect you. Part II

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: New information was discovered. Natsume Soseki and Karl take first step to insuring your safety.

Meanwhile, you cuddle with Paul Verlaine and Artur Rimbaud.

Warning: OOC. Stalking. People misunderstood Reader's relationship with BSD Cast. English is my second language.

Part I

Part III

____

It was late, but no one in your house were asleep.

While Ranpo, Kunikida, Yosano and Dazai were busy interrogating the robber, the rest of you searched through the house one more time to make sure, that Stalker didn't steal anything and didn't put any cameras into the house.

Thankfully, there weren't any.

Then you took a good look at your clothes and underwear, that Stalker messed up.

That's where Ango's ability came in handy. He read walls' memories.

According to them, some figure, dressed in black with a mask on their head, simply threw your clothes on the floor, and, after taking the drawer with your underwear from the desk, pour red paint on it and threw it on the floor.

Just three or four times in a washing machine and your clothes will be fine to wear.

Everyone gathered in the common room. They were in groups, discussing, what should they do with Stalker. You were waiting for the washing machine to turn off.

In an hour, Ranpo, Yosano, Dazai and Kunikida finished the interrogation.

Dazai stand in the middle of the room. His brown eyes shined.

"Interrogation was a success. And we get some information about Stalker."

________

"So... Someone paid to this man, so he can steal my phone?" You asked, while sitting between Verlaine and Rimbaud.

Dazai nodded.

"Yup. And, apparently, it was our Stalker. According to what Ango saw and what robber told us, it was the same person. And I am pretty sure, that our robber was honest, while describing them. Moreover..."

Dazai narrowed his eyes.

"Robber was instructed not to hurt you. Because, as Stalker said themselves, 'I will punish them myself. For being a wanton person who flaunted their body about as a kept person."

The room was deadly silent. You looked around. You close your eyes. Then you spoke.

"At first, I thought, that Stalker was not from the city and could stalk me only during Charity Fair. Now, there is a chance that they are from here and stalk me during Charity Fair for some different reason. That, or our Stalker have an accomplice from my university... At least, that explains the nickname "

Yosano stepped forward.

"Wait, [Y/N], don't tell me..."

You nodded.

"Not to face. But, I have heard the rumors and whispers."

Silence. If someone dropped a pin, people will turn around, started by loud noise.

You noticed, that Verlaine and Rimbaud looked ready to marched to your university and destroyed it. You were sure, that others were having similar thoughts.

You quickly stand up and raise both hands.

"They are just talking. Bark and no bite. I soon will finish the university and won't interact with them. It's not important right now. Right now, we have one important thing to do."

You cleared your throat and continue.

"As long as you don't kill anyone, you can deal with the Stalker as you want."

It seems, your words rise others' spirits. Soon everyone star whispering to each other, discussing, what they should do next.

You heard, that Arthur and Paul were talking about rooms, for some reason. Their voices were hushed, so you can't make out all of their words.

You yawn. It was a crazy day. You raise your voice again.

"Let's discuss our plans tomorrow. It's late, let's get some sleep."

Before you can turn around and walk outside the room, you felt, how someone took you by the elbow.

Paul Verlaine led you after him. Arthur Rimbaud was following after you two.

"Stay in my room tonight. You will be safe from the Stalker. Just in case the Stalker decide to foolishly strike again tonight. Arthur and I will chase him off."

Arthur reassuringly pet your shoulder.

"Don't worry, [Y/N]. You will be protected. By the way..." Arthur kissed your head. "The comments that this idiots are spitting. They aren't true, they not important. But, your comfort is important. Please, if someone tried to harras you because of the way you living... Tell us. We will help you. We will support you."

You stay quiet for a second. Then you smiled.

"Thank you. Can we cuddle tonight?"

Paul and Arthur chuckled.

"With me? Or with Arthur?"

You chuckled in return.

"In a middle of cuddle sandwich, of course."

Paul glance at you.

"With pats and scratches?"

You nodded. The perfect night awaits you.

________

The rest of the night was quiet.

You slept in Verlaine's bed. Paul's right arm was around your midsection, with his left arm he was playing with your hair. His stomach was pressed against your lower back and one leg was inserted between your knees. Paul was nuzzling your ear. You feel his soft breath on your skin.

Arthur bury his face into your neck. With one hand he was cupping your cheek, with the second hand he was petting your neck.

You feel safe and comfy. Familiar warmth were surrounding you.

Finally, for the last four years, you were feeling safe during Charity Fair.

This time, everything is going to be alright.

_____

Later that night, Natsume Soseki left the house in his cat form. Karl follows after him.

_____

This man is nowhere to be found.

Did he steal [Y/N]'s phone and ran with it?

I will find him.

But first... I will make sure, that [Y/N] take the message. They should stop staying with this people. They must become pure again.

They.... AH! What the hell?! Where did this cat come from? Go away, stop trying to scratch my legs!

No! Not my nose!

Stop biting!

Bad cat! Bad cat!

Get off my head!

AH! THE RACCOON IS TRYING TO BITE MY FEET!

PEST CONTROL!

________

For three hours a certain Calico cat and raccoon were yowling, hissing, scratching and biting a masked figure, dressed in black.

Natsume and Karl were hot on their tail. They only calmed down, when the sun start risen.

At that point, the Stalker was stuck on a tree, with Natsume scratching them and Karl growling on them from the ground. Finally, Stalker slipped and fell from the tree

They were alive, but, they will get a bump. And, perhaps, a mild concussion.

Natsume, in his human form, jumped from the tree down.

He looked at Karl.

"Mind to find me a fitting dumpster?"

Karl purred in agreement.

______

Stalker were fond in a few hours by garbage truck driver.

Unfortunately, for Stalker, they were thrown in the truck to the collected garbage, before they were spotted. Even worse, right before that, a garbage truck driver just collected garbage from the fruit shop. That disposed of some rotten durian fruits.

Stalker were thrown right in the pile of rotten durian.

The next two days, Stalker spent in a bathtub, trying to get rid of the horrible smell.

________

For you, two days passed in a blur. Every time you had to go outside, you didn't feel anyone's gaze on you. You tried to ask if others had something to do with it. Everyone was quiet about that, but Natsume and Karl do looked proud of themselves.

These two days were full of preparation for the Charity Fair.

And for the mission, 'Teach a lesson to the Stalker'.

According to the plan, every day for eight days, one group of BSD Characters will stay in or near the café, so they can chase Stalker off, if they appeared.

You strengthen up your café uniform. You glance at Calico cat. Natsume let you put a bow on him.

Natsume himself insisted on accompanying you for the next eight days. You actually managed to convince café manager to let Natsume stay with you.

Because people will buy anything, if they saw a cute cat.

For the next few days, Natsume will pretend to be Café lucky charm. This way he could always be with you and protect you, if you and BSD Cast got separated.

Natsume... Or Mii-chan meowed and jumped on your shoulders. You scratch behind his ears.

Time for the show. The next eight days will be eventful.

[nightsadness]

Hi! I thought I'd take applications. Call me "Undertaker" (pronouns she/her) I'm 19 years old and I'm not a native English speaker, but I'm slowly learning , so far my level is A2.

I write: angst, fluff, yandere, headcanons, reactions, romance

I might write: smut, NSFW.

I don't write: yaoi, yuri, pedophilia, plots based on real murders, racism, excessive violence, coprophilia, incest.

Mortal Kombat

Bungo stray dogs

That's not my Neighbor

Mortal Kombat:

Sub-Zero (Noob Saibot/Kuai Liang/Bi-Han), Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi), Erron Black, Kabal, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Liu Kang, Reptile, Shang Tsung, Kung Lao, Smoke, Night wolf, Rain, Fujin

Bungo Stray Dogs

Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Ranpo Edogawa, Mori Ogai, Kenji Miyazava, Rando (Arthur Rimbaud), Saigiku Jōno, Edgar Allan Poe, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, Sigma

That's not my neighbor:

Francis Mosses, Steven Rudboys, Angus Ciprianni, Izaack Gauss.

I also write for absolutely any female characters x fem!readers (any relationship BUT NOT YURI!!!!).

[ananiel]

So we talked about many difrent au's, did we not? But You know one that can't posibily fail us? One where You are like Howl from Howls moving castle.

Howl is a wizard known for his famous spells, strong magic, wit and for being well known in the ladies world

So what if You had his personality and overall magical qualities

A Christmas special

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

You were driving him mad with your personality that let's out so much but nothing at the same time.

He hated You so much he loved You. So much he grew obsessed with your very own being.

You were difrent, a witch of some sorts that made him so angry.

You were so arogant and pridefull, so ready to just flick your wrist and float away from him.

Clearly You knew he didn't have the very best intensions, but You never voiced it. It didn't seem like You treated him difrent from the others either. He could've sworn that You didn't know anything, but when a younger fan decided to come out to You, he saw the protective hand You put over the child when he came on sight.

You knew, You knew more about him then he could even comprehand You did, You could be a threat to his plans. In his eyes, You were an impure being that played with things God has forbiden humans from ever doing

He even went to confront You in that weird abomination You called Your castle. You let him in while working on God knows what and he got a look around... It doesn't seem that bad...

When he tried to argue, You gave back witty responses which annoyed him teribly but what caught his attention was an answear You gave about leaving soon to continue your search for someone You met in the past.

He was fuming, he put on a happy act that You didn't buy, but didn't care enough to question him either.

There's no way in hell he would ever let You leave him for another, no way in hell.

So he come up with a plan, he helped You find that person but in return You craft a ring that can block all magic for him.

Now, theoretically he did help You find them, but before You could run to them, he shot them, straight to the heart, the perfect shot.

You feel to your knees in anguish as You knew You couldn't do anything. He was phisically stronger and magic couldn't help You if he wore that ring.

The maniac crounched down next to You and took your hand in his while shussing your cries. He pulled out a ring that looked the same as the magic ring You crafted and put it on your finger before kissing your hand with a deranged smile

"You see my love? How pathetic they were? How foolish of You to try and find them when i am all You need, right in front of You"

[thelovelywriteress]

FAVOURITE TYPE OF DEATH

─ Arthur Rimbaud (Leonardo DiCaprio)

────────────────────────────

────────────────────────────

tw - mention of death and attempted muder

────────────────────────────

The room is dark, the only light a faint glow filtering through the curtains. You’re asleep, your body at rest, the silence wrapping around you like a cocoon. But that calm is soon shattered. The door creaks open, a shadow slipping through, moving toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

You feel a touch, light and teasing, fingers brushing against your skin. The sensation pulls you from sleep. Your eyes open in a sudden jolt, your heart skipping a beat as you almost scream. But then you see him. Arthur. His smirk plays on his lips as he hovers over you, enjoying your vulnerability, basking in your moment of weakness.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare up at him. "Arthur," you manage to whisper, your voice sharp,"Don't you think your sudden presence can give someone a heart attack." While you were serious, Arthur as always find it humourous and states that you are not the type that can die from heart failures.

"Correct. And it's not my preferred type of death anyways." You state in a monotone tone, thinking Arthur once again might give some sadistic repose but shockingly he was interested in what kind of death you preferred.

You didn't hesitate. "Strangled," you reply, your tone flat, almost detached. "That’s how I’d prefer to go." One might think this lead to a deeper conversation though that wasn't case here.

There’s silence between you, thick with tension. And then, without warning, his shoots out, wrapping his hands around your neck. His grip is firm but not yet suffocating. His eyes lock with yours, a cruel glint flashing in them as he leans in closer, his voice a low growl. "Like this, (Y/N)?"

He envisions you panicking—your nails digging into his skin, your face twisting in terror, begging for breath. He imagines your body writhing beneath him, your life slipping away as you fight to stay alive. But as stated, it was all part of his imagination cause reality doesn’t match his fantasy.

Instead of desperation that all he saw was a calm face. Your hands rest still at your sides, not reaching for him, not fighting back. You just stare at him, your eyes unwavering, your breath slowing under his grip. And in your gaze, there’s something that unsettles him—a quiet, chilling acceptance.

You wait, your eyes locked on his, as if challenging him, daring him to go further. There’s no fear in you, no panic. Only a calm, resolute strength. It unnerves him in ways he didn’t expect.

His fingers tighten for a brief moment, just enough to feel your pulse beneath his touch. But it’s not enough to scare you. Instead, it’s him who feels the tension, the pressure of your gaze weighing down on him. He expected fear, he wanted resistance. Instead, you give him nothing but quiet defiance.

His grip loosens. His hand slips from your throat, retreating in frustration. You don’t move, don’t flinch. You just keep staring, your eyes holding that same unreadable expression, as if you see through him, see past his cruel games and into something far deeper, far more fragile.

He stands, watching you for a long moment, his heart pounding in his chest, his control over the situation feels hollow, as though you’ve taken it from him without even trying.

He loosen his grip on your throat as he let out a comment that was supposed to be taunt to you but sounds more like a cover to hide his lack of power in situation.

"Do you really think I will let you die this easily?" A smirk dancing on his charming face.

"I would be a fool to even imagine it."

[missy-0-piink]

OH my god Rimbaud AND Verlaine threesome??? , oh god OH GOD YES I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START , WHENEVER TO SOFTLY COMFORT RIMBAUD AND WARM HIM UP OR MAKE VERLAINE CRY WITH OVERSTIMULATION

Yeah like, a threesome w them would be so wholesome bc they love each other and I love them 🥺

I’d be so soft with both of them (I’d still overstim and edge like hell tho, but I’d just be really sweet about it and praise them)

But like, You wanna know what im thinking? Double penetration w them.

Like:

Imagine, you have a strap, and Rimbaud has his dick, and both of you are fucking into Verlaine really gently

Rimbaud is a bit more desperate tho, because you’re praising both of them

Calling them both your good boys, individually telling them both how pretty they look and how good they’re doing

Sends both of them into subspace straight away

Verlaine is a mess, shaking from the feeling of both your cocks inside of him (you chose a thinner one, so he isn’t overwhelmed, but god it’s so long)

He’s moaning and sobbing, tears dripping down his face after already cumming, but you and Rimbaud still pounded into him as you order him to play with his own nipples

And Rimbaud is only slighter more composed, or rather, he’s quieter, but just as desperate

You play with Rimbauds chest too, eliciting sharp twitches of his body and shudders running down his spine

Fuck, this was so hot

“Ar-Arthur, fuck, feels too good!” Verlaine moaned, pinching his nipples extra tight when Rimbaud bucked his hips harshly in response to his praise, “hah~ (name), please, please, please-“

You cut him off, “aww baby, please what, huh? Use your words big boy~”

“Please, it’s too much- hic- s’too good!” He sobbed out, looking at you with pleading, teary eyes

“Well, Rimbaud here still hasn’t cum yet, so after he finishes then we’ll stop, is that ok baby?” You ask, looking down for any genuine sign of discomfort

He nods, whining out a “yes, oh god~”

You turn to look at Rimbaud, observing the way his long hair was messy, brows furrowed and mouth parted, letting out harsh breaths. His face was flushed red, eyes half lidded as he looked down at Verlaine taking his cock and at your hands playing with his nipples, as he thrusted very slowly, certainly not enough to get anyone off

“Well, that just won’t do…” you mutter to yourself, with Rimbaud hearing and turning to you in confusion before letting out a yelp

You had grabbed his hips with your hands, and started pushing them in and out at a much faster rate while also speeding up your thrusts as well

Rimbaud was shaking, and Verlaine was crying, loud moans and high pitched ones leaving them both respectively

“W-wait, (name)! I’m too sensitive, slow down please~” Rimbaud whimpered out the last word, eyes almost rolling back in his head as he grit his teeth, body shivering

“No can do, pretty boy” you smirk at him

Verlaine was incomprehensible at the rate of rimbauds and yours’ thrusts, drool seeping out the corner of his lips with his head thrown back, French and English words intertwined with each other

Really, having two of the great transcendents at your mercy, whining and begging?

It was all too satisfying

“Hah! I-I’m getting close, my dears~” Rimbaud managed to get out between heavy panting, his thrusts becoming sloppy

“Then be a good boy and jerk Verlaine off, why don’t you?” You say to him, watching as he obeyed, his shaky hand wrapping itself around verlaines cock and pumping in tandem with his thrusts

Verlaine sobbed, back arching as sprays of watery cum coated his abdomen and chest once he came

This triggered rimbauds own orgasm, the clenching of Verlaine around him making the pleasure climax as he emptied himself into Verlaine, breathy moans escaping him

Once they both collapsed onto the bed, you brought a washcloth and started cleaning them up, whispering sweet praises as you did so

After you were done, you settled into bed with them, both of them clinging onto you as they fell asleep

They were honestly too cute 🤭

—————

I fuckin love both of them

[diagonal-queen]

𝐁𝐒𝐃 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

🌼 = Fluff 🔞 = Smut ⛓ = Dark content 💔 = Angst 🥀 = Hurt/Comfort 🤕 = Whump 🔷 = Other

Armed Detective Agency:

↪ Atsushi Nakajima

↪ Osamu Dazai

That Place (Dazai x gn!Reader) 💔

↪ Doppo Kunikida

Two of Two Kinds (Kunikida x fem!Reader) 🌼

↪ Kyouka Izumi

↪ Ranpo Edogawa

↪ Akiko Yosano

↪ Kenji Miyazawa

↪ Yukichi Fukuzawa

Port Mafia:

↪ Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

↪ Chuuya Nakahara

His New Trainee (Chuuya x fem!Reader) 🔷

Welcome Gift (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼

The Man and the Puppies (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼

Mutually Beneficial Transaction (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼

On the Verge (Chuuya x fem!Reader) 🤕

Calmer Waters (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🥀

Star-Crossed (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼

Rockstar Chuuya (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼🔞

↪ Michizou Tachihara

Random Tachihara Headcanons 🔷

michizou tachihara as your highschool boyfriend (Tachihara x gn!Reader) 🔷

Unspoken (Tachihara x gn!Reader) 🥀

↪ Gin Akutagawa

↪ Ichiyo Higuchi

↪ Kouyou Ozaki

Sakura Kisses (Kouyou x gn!Reader) 🌼

↪ Sakunosuke Oda

Decay of Angels:

↪ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Discipline (Fyodor x gn!Reader) ⛓

Tired Turtle Doves (Fyodor x gn!Reader x Mykola) 🌼

Dark Roses and Souls (Fyodor x Mykola) 🌼

↪ Mykola Hohol

nikolai x reader in the winter (Mykola x gn!Reader) 🌼

Tired Turtle Doves (Fyodor x gn!Reader x Mykola) 🌼

Dark Roses and Souls (Fyodor x Mykola) 🌼

↪ Sigma

Vanilla and Lavender (Sigma x gn!Reader) 🌼

The Other Perspective (Sigma x fem!Reader) 🌼

Home Is Where the Heart Is (Sigma x gn!Reader) 🥀

The Guild:

↪ Lucy Maud Montgomery

fluffy lucy headcanons (Lucy x gn!Reader) 🌼

↪ Edgar Allan Poe

↪ Mark Twain

Watermelon Cruiser (Mark x gn!Reader) 🔷

Hunting Dogs:

↪ Ouchi Fukuchi

↪ Saigiku Jouno

Jouno with a quiet and touchy S/O (Jouno x gn!Reader) 🌼

↪ Tecchou Suehiro

Lovesick Tecchou Headcanons (Tecchou x gn!Reader) 🌼⛓

↪ Teruko Okura

Other:

↪ Mushitarou Oguri

Secret Secret (Mushitarou x gn!Reader) 💔

↪ Paul Verlaine

The Moon and the Sea (Verlaine x Rimbaud) 🌼

↪ Arthur Rimbaud

The Moon and the Sea (Verlaine x Rimbaud) 🌼

Misc. Headcanons:

how i think bsd characters would hug: ada edition (ADA)

how i think bsd characters would hug: pm edition (PM)

Reader who sleeps with a tank top (Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya)

Reader who sleeps in a nightgown (Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Mykola, Poe)

Being their Older Sibling (Kyouka, Kenji)

Reader who is flexible (Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor)

Helping to take care of a reader who struggles to eat (Atsushi, Dazai, Chuuya, Oda, Fyodor)

Reader who is flexible pt. 2 (Kunikida, Mykola, Sigma)

how i think bsd characters would hug: misc edition (Jouno, Tecchou, Sigma, Mushitarou)

They find out you're Dazai's sibling (Chuuya, Fyodor)

When they have a nightmare about you (Atsushi, Dazai, Chuuya, Tecchou)

When Reader flinches after they yell (Kunikida, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Chuuya, Poe)

An S/O who has their opposite personality (Fyodor, Mykola)

Reader being the "perfect" assistant (Kunikida, Chuuya)

When their S/O is a compulsive liar (Dazai, Ranpo, Yosano, Chuuya, Fyodor, Mykola)

Reader with trauma and trust issues (Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor)

When their daughter tells them she has a boyfriend (Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma)

An S/O who outsmarts them (Dazai, Fyodor)

Their first kiss with you (Atsushi, Oda, Lucy, Tecchou)

If the BSD boys were my coworkers (Atsushi, Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Chuuya, Poe, Steinbeck)

Them with a manipulative S/O (Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor)

Them with an S/O who meows (Ranpo, Chuuya, Jouno)

When you blow them a kiss (Tachihara, Tecchou)

S/O who hides under the bed (Dazai, Kunikida, Chuuya)

Rubber duckie, you're the one~ (Atsushi, Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya, Mykola, Poe, Tecchou)

If the BSD girls were my coworkers (Kyouka, Yosano, Kouyou, Gin, Higuchi, Naomi, Lucy)

The Flags in Highschool (The Flags)

"Can't Sleep?" (Dazai, Kunikida, Fyodor)

"Men with Slutty Waists!" (Dazai, Chuuya)

Cuddling Headcanons (Tecchou, Jouno)

BSD boys with a self-sacrificing girlfriend (Fyodor, Poe, Ranpo, Jouno)

Teasing their crush (Tecchou, Tachihara, Dazai, Fyodor)

The ADA as your roommates (ADA)

Hunting Dogs Headcanons:

Hunting Dogs with an energetic S/O

Hunting Dogs with an S/O who eats ice

When their S/O feels inadequate

Hunting Dogs with a clumsy S/O

Hunting Dogs with a silent S/O

Hunting Dogs with your child

Hunting Dogs with a mean S/O

Obviously I will continue to update this list as I release new fics but it might take some time between each new fic and me updating this, sorry! Also if there's a character you like that I haven't put here, you can still send reqs for them!

[wizardfrog69]

୨⎯ "Crocheting/knitting hobby (bsd)" ⎯୧

Basically if you had a crocheting/knitting hobby. also mostly platonic

Also requests are wide open if you want me to write about anything! :)

Feat. Fukuzawa, Yosano, Atsushi, Kunikida, Jun'ichirō, Kenji, Kyōka, Dazai, Ranpo, Katai Tayama, Ace, Chuuya,Chuuya's hat, Kōyō, Arthur, Akutagawa, Higuchi, Hirotsu, Kajii, Oda, Ango, Fitzgerald, Karl, Fyodor, Ivan Goncharov, Nikolai, Sigma

Yukichi Fukuzawa:

Omg he loves the fact that you could make him a scarf

Mike him a scarf btw

He loves it

Also make tiny hats and scarfs for the cats

Love's them also <3

Akiko Yosano:

If you make her anything then she would wear it everywhere

Shows off what you made

Is proud

Atsushi Nakajima:

Please make him like a sweater or something

Yk he'll wear it 24/7

Doesn't he have like one pair of clothes?

Idk just make him something

Doppo Kunikida:

Is proud that you have such useful skills

I don't think he needs anything

But if you make him something then he'll wear it when necessary

Would probably prefer it over his other things of the same use

Jun'ichirō Tanizaki:

Love's, absolutely adores your skill

Make him a shit tone of sweaters and he'll wear every last one of them 24/7

Love's everything you make

Idk why but I feel like he would know how to knit

Will knit you shit aswell

Kenji Miyazawa:

I'm gonna assume that people in his village used to crochet/knit cuz its such a common thing and you would need those skills to make cloths

Whenever you knit/crochet he will sit there are just stare

It's mesmerising to watch someone do such a thing

Pls make him a little cow teddy

Kyōka Izumi:

And you make her a bunny teddy

Also loves to watch

Will thank you politely after you make her something

She will be very grateful

Osamu Dazai:

I'm sorry but watching people crochet or knit is so mesmerising

Watches your every move while you do your thing

Will ask you to make him stuff

Asked you to make him a rope 🥰

Ranpo Edogawa:

Doesn't care ????

I feel like he wouldn't care much

Still appreciates the things you make him but wouldn't really care

Katai tayama:

Bro make him like a blanket or something

Idk why but he's silly rn

My brain thinks he's silly rn

Make him a blanket tho

I just realised it sounds like I'm forcing you to make all of these things

Ace:

Mans will gamble all that shit away

Sorry babes your talent is wasted with him

Chuuya Nakahara:

Crochet a flower for his hat

Idc for him just his hat

Chuuya's hat:

It enjoys the flowers you make it

And other little things

Decorate the hat

Hat enjoys your company

You and the hat are getting married now

Chuuya is invited to the wedding

Runs off with his hat and asks the hat to never leave his side

Now you are in a relationship with chuuya's hat and chuuya

You can make chuuya like new gloves or something idc

Kōyō Ozaki:

Idk what you could make this beautiful lady

Maybe a scarf or something

Arthur Rimbaud:

Use that extra thick wool for his things

Make him a scarf. Gloves. Hat, socks and everything

This man is freezing to death 24/7

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa:

Whatever you do use black yarn

He doesn't really need anything

Maybe a scarf (such an original idea ik)

Ichiyō Higuchi:

Loves everything thing you make

Respectfully shows off what you made

Ryūrō Hirotsu:

I forgot who this is 💀

Nvm it's the old guy

Like idk just like idk

Motojiro Kajii:

Make him lemon scented lemons

To me this guys personality is just lemons

Sakunosuke Oda:

You better be using those skills to make the kids winter clothes

He adores you and he loves what you can do

Ango Sakaguchi:

Man wouldn't even realise

He's too busy working

Francis Scott Fitzgerald:

He fond your skills useful when he was in his poor era 😍

Karl:

Make this racoon some tiny socks or something

Or a cute little hat

Fyodor Dostoevsky:

Make little cloths for his rats or something idk

Make him this:

Ivan Goncharov:

He needs a nice hat

Nikolai Gogol:

And he needs a silly hat

Sigma:

Bones ruined him

Like wtf is his character design? The hair is too light the shoes are not shoeing

Like no one can walk in those shoes

Poor Sigma:(

Sorry I got too lazy to continue