#i’m gonna break something HELP WTF

[tkshot]

love it when your meds wears off just before you encounter a frustrating problem but it’s too late to take another dose or you’ll get insomnia. and so you spend the next hour fiddling and unscrewing an entire lock just to scratch an itch and lessen the frustration

[eseongsubs]

warnings; creampie, hybrid!sunoo, degradation, master kink, reader has a vag but no gender is specified, slight yandere sunoo, desperate sunoo, possessive sunoo

ughhh when I tell you my lust for hybrid boys has skyrocketed lately. Idk wtf is going on with me but I’m going crazy. I want him a little insane, possessive, horny…..a boys’ got needs.

Imagine kitty Sunoo…..Y’all I don’t think I can handle it. It’s been so long since you’ve had a good fuck. Your ex-boyfriend just moved out, all your most recent fucks since then just haven’t been it. They haven’t made you cum. Tonight your hand creeps into your shorts for the nth time to make yourself feel better. Your fingers swirling your clit to find relief from the built up lust you’ve been feeling lately.

It’s hard to get off without some sort of media, but you’re too tired to pick up your phone and find something good. Your mind flits through a million scenarios as you try to push yourself to that point but it’s not working. It’s slowly starting to piss you off.

“Ugh” the hiss you let out is low and guttural. Any moment now your fingers will get tired.

“..Yn?” The sound of Sunoo’s low tired voice startles you, hands jumping from your pants. The cat hybrid should be asleep right now. The thought that he could possibly have smelled or heard you attempting to do the deed embarrasses you and makes your face tingle with subtle shame.

“Yes love?”

“Can I…can I sleep with you tonight?” His hesitant voice makes you bite your lip. The truth is, this was on the list of the reasons your boyfriend wanted to break up with you. Sunoo has his own bedroom but he hardly likes to sleep in it. Your ex did not like the idea of you sharing your bed with another man when he wasn’t there.

Sunoo also did not like your ex very much either. Every time your boyfriend came over to the house there was an uncomfortable energy. Sunoo seemed to make more “mistakes” at the expense of your ex. Spilling his drinks on him, tearing up clothes he left over, throwing away his shoes or belongings because he “didn’t realize” they were your boyfriend’s belongings. Your ex told you to get rid of Sunoo if you wanted to get serious with him.

Clearly you know how that went.

“Sure hon, come in, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” You flipped your sheets off your legs and hopped off to wash your hands in the sink before meeting Sunoo back in your bedroom.

Sunoo was much bigger than his aura leads people to believe. His shoulders wide, tall with long legs. He’s large for a cat hybrid and it shows as he lays on your bed, his legs met the end of your mattress. A reason why his bed was bigger than yours.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask, slipping under the covers. You rub your legs together from the comfortable warmth.

“Could you?” His eyes seemed to do something odd as he asked the question, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. A flash of your previous….activities made you swallow, laughing awkwardly.

“Guess not.”

Sunoo scooted closer, and you laid on your back to make room. He nosed his way into your neck and laid his hand over your tummy, squeezing your side to pull you directly up against him.

That was another thing about Sunoo. He was a lot stronger than one would think too.

“He hasn’t been around in a while” Sunoo mumbled. He sounded disinterested, but unbeknownst to you, his words were filled with much more vile emotions.

“Yeah, uhm, he won’t be back. Anytime soon.” Your awkward pauses made you squeeze onto the back of Sunoo’s shirt where your hand rested absentmindedly.

“Good” he said, his response shocked you. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Sun”

“Why don’t you ever let me help you?” Sunoo’s voice seemed to dip in pitch. His fingers strayed from your side, sliding a little lower, fingers picking at your night shirt below your belly button. A spark lit inside your stomach that you tried to ignore, heart picking up speed in your chest from your embarrassing feelings.

“What?” The question slipped from your mouth more breathless than you’d wanted it to.

“Why do you always touch yourself alone when I’m right here to help?” He says. Your eyes snap open wider than before. Sunoo’s nose pressed deeper into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, lighting your belly on fire. You trapped his slowly slipping hand with your own.

“S-sunoo don’t say that to me. This is— that would be wrong. You’re my kitten” A deep, rumbly sigh blows over your neck at your words. Your words only turned him on more, making his movements against you more assertive.

“I could be your good kitten, master. I know I could. Could make you feel so good” it’s embarrassing the effect his words have on you. The way you seem to be growing wet at his statement even though you know you shouldn’t. He’s your kitten, your pet. You shouldn’t be letting him touch you, letting him have sex with you.

“Where did you even learn to speak like this, Sun? This is, completely inappropriate.” You’re trying to fight it, but you can’t deny the way your hand has loosened its grip on his, letting him sneak his way down into your sleep shorts, fingertips pressed against your underwear as he begins to rub against you. His hips roll into your side, the feeling of his hard dick making you bite the inside of your lip.

Sunoo ignores your question, mouth open as he pants against your skin, humping you carnally “you’re such a tease master. Oh, you smell so good you know that?”

“Do you know how many times I’ve listened to you touch yourself? How many times I’ve listened to him fuck you? It’s disgusting. I should be there. It should’ve been me” his voice grows more heated by the second, hand now rubbing against your cunt as he grinds his hard-on against your skin. Your body fills with horror at his confessions.

“I can smell the difference when you cum. When you feel good. Why did you let him fuck you if he wasn’t doin’ it for you, huh?” Sunoo’s fingers slipped into your pants, moving your pubic hair from his way as he spread your lips and tapped your clit. Your mouth parted in shock. “Oh god” Sunoo moaned as if he was the one being touched. You felt his teeth take his plump bottom lip into his mouth against the skin of your neck.

He was right. You did stay with your ex even though he wasn’t make you feel good. You fucked your boyfriend even though you didn’t really like it. You thought if you gave it time, maybe it would get better. Everything was so good in the beginning, you guess you didn’t want to lose it.

“Fuck master, please. You’re so wet I can’t take it. I need to be inside.” Sunoo pulled his hand out from your pants, slipping the blankets off you both so he could pull his night shorts down, climbing on top of you.

“N-no one can know, Sun” you mumbled as he pulled your shorts off your legs. His eyes sparkled at the sight of your hole, eyebrows creasing as he moaned.

“No one can know” he parrots, whimpering as he aligns his tip with you, bucking into your cunt with an excited jump of his hips. His whimpers and moans are instantaneous, and fuck it is so wrong how turned on you are right now. This is the best you’ve felt in years, the way Sunoo’s face contorts as he fucks into your hole, his pace is slow like he wants to enjoy every second, pulling and pushing gradually. So, so wrong. You just can’t help but squeeze him with your cunt, reaching up underneath his shirt to play with his nipples.

“Oh fuck, master” his hands land on each side of your head, cock moving faster as you begin to play with him.

“You like calling me that, Sunoo? Does it feel good when I let you fuck me?” You don’t know what came over you. Maybe it’s the excitement coursing through your veins. Maybe it’s the way he humps into you like if he stops he’ll lose his life.

“Fuck yes, oh master yes. Mine, all mine” his Whiney voice makes you clench down even harder. He’s so sexy it hurts.

“Yours, huh? Were you telling yourself that when you would listen to me fuck my boyfriend. That I’m yours?”

Sunoo’s speed picks up, “don’t say that” he huffs, eyes rolling back as his balls slap against your ass.

“Why not? It’s true, yeah?” You swallow, mouth falling open as you pant. Sunoo mewls when you drop your hands from his nipples, his lips wet and shiny, bangs flopping as he pounds into your hole.

“Fuck, fuck, oh master fuck I’m gonna cum. Gonna make you all mine, gonna cum inside” it’s lost on you how right your ex was. He shouldn’t have been comfortable with Sunoo in your bed, letting him sleep next to you when he touched himself to you every night. He was stealing your dirty t-shirts and jerking himself off with them before putting them in the washer. You’d praise him for being such a good boy, such a good kitty washing your clothes without being asked. When really, Sunoo was just covering his tracks.

“Please master. Yn please. Let me fill you up, oh god, oh god” his balls clenched as you spasmed around him, cumming on Sunoo’s cock from his desperate whimpers and harsh thrusts. His hips stuttered as he came inside, a long porn-ish mewl falling from his plush lips as you felt every twitch of his dick releasing inside.

What you were going to do about this now you didn’t know, but holy fuck did that feel good.

[thepersonnamedsam]

radio

pairing: the genz!driver x team x 23!grid

summary: some team radios of our beloved genz!driver

warnings: some swearing

note: oh i hope you all will like what i did here, it took me a hot minute, soo, pls don’t be a ghost reader

our genz!driver doesn’t drive for a specific team (pls imagine which ever is your fav), so the colours of the team radio will be violet, bc it’s not used :)

masterlist / taglist

Bahrain 2023

Q2

- „Okay y/n, you made it into Q2! Let’s keep that same pace you had in Q1“

- „Oh did you hear that? Where did Oscar place??“

- „Piastri is out in Q1, P18“

- „Wooh!! Oscar owes me 50 bucks!!! He lost the bet, he lost it! He didn’t think I’d out-qualify him!“

End of Qualifying

- „Good job, y/l/n! Thats P12 for you! Great start of the season“

- „Yeah baby! I’m the new Smooth Operator, Smooth Operator!“

Race

- „Uhm guys, I think there’s something wrong with my car…“

- „What is it, y/n?“

- „I just overtook Charles, how is that even possible?! Wtf guys, am I that fast?“

- „Oh my god, y/n, you had me stressed out here. I really thought you had technical problems for a second“

- „No worries, I’m just faster than a Ferrari“

—

- „Radio check“

- „It’s a cruel summer!“

—

- „Tell me, tell me how we finished, how I finished?!“

- „P11 baby!“

- „Uh, yeah, who’s almost in the points?!“

- „YOU!“

—

Saudi Arabia 2023

FP2

- „Tell me, is Danny here?“

- „Yea, why?“

- „Can you tell him I said hi? Please“

- „Uhm, sure I can, why?“

- „I just promised him yesterday I‘d give him a shoutout from the track, hahaha“

Q1

- „Okay, y/n, let’s get into Q3 today!“

- „Let’s gooooo!“

- „Could you not scream into the coms, please?“

- „WOHOO!“

- „y/n…“

- „Love you“

- „I don’t…“

- „You totally do“

- „I don’t“

- „You dooooo“

Q2

- „P12, good job y/n“

- „Could’ve gone better“

- „It’s a good result, y/n“

- „But still no Q3“

- „Hey, y/n, cheer up, it’s the same result as last race“

- „I thought we improved, I thought I improved“

- „We can still climb up the ladder“

- „As if, I’m not good enough for that many overtakes, I can defend, but that… I don’t know man“

- „Hey hey, listen to me, y/n. You deserve that spot in F1, you’re young and you’re learning with every race, with every test. I know you’ll be champion one day. Maybe not this race, but you’re gonna go far, kid“

- „…“

- „Are you crying, hahaha?“

- „Let me be emotional, dipshit“

- „Oh Lando is gonna have a field day with this, hahaha“

- „Please don’t show that to Lando“

- „Come to the garage first and we can discuss it“

Race

- „Radio check, y/n“

- „Vamos a la playa“

- „Loud and clear…“

—

- „FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, SHIT, SHIT, DAMN, WHY DOES IT NEVER GO MY WAY?!“

- „Unfortunate events, retire the car, y/n“

- „UNFORTUNATE?! STROLL JUST STOPPED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD AND I HAD TO BREAK SO HARD NOT TO CRASH INTO HIM THAT I CRASHED INTO THE WALL!“

- „It is what it is“

- „Don’t meme me, I’m mad… haha, okay, thank you“

Australia 2023

Q2

- „Good pace, y/n, let’s keep it that way and we’ll make it into Q3“

- „Alrighty mighty“

- „Cringe“

—

- „AND THATS P9 FOR YOU“

- „Huh?“

- „P9“

- „I’m into Q3?! Am I really?“

- „Yes! Yes you are!“

Q3

- „Whoop, whoop, that’s the sound of the police“

- „Whoop, whoop, that’s the sound that I need“

- „P10 baby“

- „P10!“

Race

- „Hi y/n, you’re doing really good out there, bring 'em home for me, will ya?“

- „Danny?“

- „Yes?“

- „Hi Danny“

- „Hi, y/n! You’re currently P9, with 0.548s to Piastri“

- „Okay“

- „Let’s push and stay in the points!“

—

- „YOU‘VE CROSSED THE FINISH LINE AS 7TH!!!“

- „THOSE ARE 6 POINTS, RIGHT?“

- „YES!“

- „It’s all because of Danny!“

- „I’ll gladly let him know“

Miami 2023

Race

- „I- help!“

- „What’s going on? y/n talk to me“

- „I don’t think my break is working“

- „y/n, we are going to retire then, box box“

- „I’ll try for one more lap“

- „No you won’t“

- „I will“

—

- „I think it’s fine“

- „…“

- „Yea, it’s fine, I can brake normally, hihi, sorry for the worries“

- „You’re a menace, y/n“

Monaco 2023

FP1

- „Monaco baby, the land of pretty people and expensive things, I am home“

- „Why’s that, you’re not from Monaco, y/n“

- „I am pretty and expensive therefore I am home“

Race

- „Radio check, y/n“

- „NOT NOW“

- „Noted“

—

- „I don’t feel pretty“

- „Sucks for you“

- „Man, that’s a shit move“

- „Sucks“

—

- „Okay y/n, you’re currently P11 with 0.639s behind DeVries, let’s push to P10“

- „DeVries? Nyck is P10? What happened?“

- „I don’t know, let’s just push him off of P10“

- „Harsh“

- „I’m a bad bitch“

- „Fuck that bitch“

—

- „Great job, y/n P10!“

- „Where is DeVries?“

- „P12“

- „Who overtook him?“

- „Bottas“

- „HAH!“

- „Be nice“

- „Ugh“

Montréal 2023

FP3

- „You are currently P3, I repeat, you are currently placed on P3“

- „Who’s pranking me? Max? Lando?“

- „No one, you ARE P3!“

- „WHAT?!“

- „Let’s take that pace into qualifying“

- „Uhm, yea, definitely“

Q2

- „What’s my time?“

- „1:18.725“

- „And Max‘s?“

- „1:19.092“

- „WHAT?“

- „You are P1, y/n“

- „Are you kidding me?“

- „I would never“

- „Mhm, but really? P1?“

- „I swear to god, P1“

Q3

- „Fuck! Shit! Holy macaroni fucking meatballs! I crashed, I repeat, I crashed“

- „Yea, we saw, retire the car“

Race

- „P7, good job!“

- „Thanks…“

- „Oh and y/n, you’ve been voted driver of the day“

- „Really?“

- „Really“

- „Firstly, I wanna thank the ground, because without it, I wouldn’t be standing here today“

- „That only works if you’re really standing somewhere, y/n, you’re sitting in an F1 car“

- „Then I’d like to thank my F1 car…“

- „I deactivated your coms“

Austria 2023

Sprint Shootout

- „What exactly is a Sprint really?“

- „Oh my god, really y/n?“

- „No… of course not…“

—

- „Great job, you placed P13“

- „Mhm, thanks… I‘m thirsty“

- „…“

- „Did no one hear me? I want my drink, where is the drink?“

- „You will not have the drink“

- „Oh you waited so long for that, didn’t you?“

- „No…, yes“

- „Kimi is a legend.“

Sprint

- „I don’t like this Sprint thingy“

- „Why?“

- „I don’t know, just because“

—

- „P15“

- „No good job?“

- „Not today“

- „Understandable“

Race

- „I want to go home, I am tired of this“

- „What?“

- „It’s getting boring with Max always leading and winning“

- „Thats why we need to push as hard as we can“

- „As if I’ll ever overtake Max“

- „One day, y/n, one day“

- „But not today, that’s why I want to go home“

- „You can’t“

- „Loser“

Silverstone 2023

FP2

- „Why do I not see Charles on the grid?“

- „Why do you have time to look at the screen and not see Charles on there?“

- „You should be driving“

- „I am“

- „Clearly not fast enough“

- „Hey, I am faster than you think“

- „You are currently driving with a speed of 156 km/h“

- „How do you know that..?“

- „I am your race engineer, I know everything“

- „Did you know that I just farted, hahaha?“

- „Unfortunately“

- „Hihi“

- „You’re gross“

- „Thank you“

- „Welcome“

—

Race

- „If Lewis stands on that podium, he owes me a dinner“

- „And if he doesn’t?“

- „I owe him a pity dinner“

- „And if you stand on that podium?“

- „Thats unrealistic, that’s why we didn’t bet on it“

- „True“

- „HEY!“

- „You said it first!“

- „Not a reason for you to call it out!“

- „Women“

- „I heard that“

- „You were supposed to“

- „Less talking, more driving!“

- „Yes boss“

- „Yes boss“

—

- „Omg, omg, omg, tell me I crossed that line without a single penalty and we don’t get a grid penalty? Please tell me this is true?“

- „YOU ARE P4 Y/N“

- „Am I really?“

- „Yes!“

- „If it weren’t for the safety car you would’ve been P3!“

- „I don’t care! It’s my best result so far!“

- „So near and yet so far“

- „Lew is P3?“

- „Yep“

- „P4 and I get a free dinner from Lew, what a day“

- „Be proud and loud“

- „WOOHOO!!!“

- „Maybe not so loud…“

- „Sorry not sorry“

Hungary 2023

FP1

- „Oh Danny Ric is back on the grid!“

- „Mhm“

- „Aren’t you happy to see my favourite person driving again?“

- „Totally“

- „Be happy!“

- „Okay…“

—

- „Oh… I just passed Danny“

- „You are on your flying lap, he needs to let you pass..?“

- „Yeah… but he needs a positive experience on his first race back…“

- „HES THE ENEMY“

- „He’s my best friend…“

- „Does he know that?“

- „Uhm, I hope so“

Race

- „Tell Lando he’s doing a great job“

- „Just drive“

- „Okay…“

—

- „Lando says thank you, by the way“

- „For what?“

- „Just forget it“

- „Okay“

—

- „Oh, for that! You’re welcome, Landi“

- „It took you 4 laps to realise“

- „My brain is sometimes slow, let me be“

- „I would if I could“

—

- „Oh how I hate Perez“

- „It’s mutual“

- „Hihi“

—

- „Radio check“

- „I am so glad that the summer break is right in front of me, just 33 more laps and it’s me chilling on the beach, getting tan and reading good books and you know, that’s how my dream life looks like and…“

- „How can she be so talkative but still be on for a podium? It’s a mystery for me“

- „And Lando and me oh and Danny will go on vacation together. Maybe Lewis will come as well. I want to go to the Maldives but we’ll see. Oh and you know what would be cool? If we really…“

- „Is she still talking? Yep…“

- „I could learn how to surf and eat loads of stuff and just relax“

- „So you finally decided to stop speaking and concentrate on the race? Great job, y/n“

- „Thanks!“

—

- „Thats P5 for you! What a race to start the summer break“

- „Thank you so much“

- „We’ll see us in 3 weeks!“

- „Byeeeee“

°°°

@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall

[itsnathateasy]

armin being oblivious

word count: 1,2k warnings: angst author’s note: this had been in my head for so long time! (ps: i remember seeing the jeans/legs idea on tiktok but didn’t save the link, if you’ve also seen the vid lmk so i can include the reference!) ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

oblivious!armin breaks his own heart by never catching up to your hints. he tries his hardest to endure seeing you flirting with other people and to deal with your constant teasing him, because he really has no clue you’re head over heels for him

you once invited him over late at night for netflix and chill, but his response is “nothing good on netflix nowadays” followed by “besides it’s getting late, rain check for friday?” was this boy living under a rock or something?

oblivious!armin sees how you treat him nicely or even special in some occasions, like how you always text him goodmorning/goodnight or how you order his favourite pastry for him when you’re meeting for coffee, maybe even how you notice his shirt is buttoned the wrong way, so you unbutton it to do it right, to shy to meet each others gaze as you do so

however, but oblivious!armin justifies it all by how good friends you are and how you’ve been super close for such a long time, it’s only natural that you do special things for each other, right?

oblivious!armin once compliments your jeans while you’re both drunk at jean’s party, slurring how “your legs look so damn good in those jeans” and you playfully respond with “well, you should’ve seen me without them!”, giggling and laughing

needless to say armin’s face dropped to the floor, baby boy was so confused

“did i say something wrong armin? what happened? thought we were having fun?” you ran your hand on his shoulder, caressing him

“why would you cut off your legs, y/n, wtf? this is your final drink for the night!” he grabbed onto you hand, pulling you away from the crowd and heading outside. he later even checked you everywhere to make sure you’re not hurt and tried to and carry you home, but he was so drunk you both ended up on the floor.

“armin, in my humble opinion, it’s you who’s had too many drinks”

oblivious!armin is always going the extra mile for you, helping you with little things that you’d need done during the day, he’d send you reminders for your groceries or that doctor’s appointment you mentioned you couldn’t skip

oblivious!armin was being so overprotective, even though he’d never admit this true motives behind his actions to you. he keeps tabs on all the people who approach you at parties and makes sure to intervene if you seem uncomfortable, snaking his arm around your waist and kissing you on the temple because “jean is expecting us, y/n, we should go” as he pulls you away from whatever guy was being too pushy

“sorry about earlier, y/n, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but you looked like you needed a way out”

“you can’t really think i was flirting with that guy, right armin?”

“why wouldn’t i think that? he looks kinda cute… if only he weren’t being this pushy”

“armin, i’m gonna hold your hand as i say this, but i’d been eyeing YOU. the entire time”

“i know, and that’s why i came to the rescue!” he closed the distance between you by kissing your temple once again. “couldn’t leave my best friend in that awful situation any longer” he pulled back and smiled brightly at you

“are we really though? best friends?” you stared at him, trying to smile at him and play nonchalant, but failed miserably, your smile turning into a crooked frown.

“of course we are, y/n!” he pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight. “don’t question that”

that was the cherry on top of the cake for you. you’d finally had enough with how oblivious armin was being. you realised you’d have to give it to him plain and simple cause that boy wasn’t comprehending shit.

a few days later, you were on your way to brunch with armin, connie, jean and sasha, you were walking behind them with armin, sasha in between the two boys, trying to prevent them from punching each other over a joke.

you reach your hand to hold armin’s and wait for him to react. he doesn’t. he’s simply rubbing circles with him thumb on the outer side of your palm.

you felt your cheeks flush up as you side-eyed armin to see the reaction on his face, only to find him side-eyeing you. holding back a chuckle, you smile at each other, continuing your way to your brunch spot.

once you walk inside the store, you’re all spreading around, looking for the best spot to fit all five of you, and sasha notices you both holding hands when she turns around to ask “do you prefer by the window or by the-” her sentence cut short as realisation filled her eyes.

“i’ll go get the others to that table on the balcony! meet us soon, but not too soon in case… you know… want to be alone… or something...” she even had the nerve to wink at you!

you exchanged a meaningful look with armin, not yet addressing the little situation you had going on for yourselves, and walked behind sasha, over to the table she’d picked out.

the brunch date went smoothly, you had your sit next to armin, as per usual, and you were still being very accommodating for each other, which wasn’t uncommon either. sasha giggling at the pair of you was uncommon. she was being a real nightmare and making you both really awkward, but you didn’t say anything, you knew she meant no harm and was honestly excited about you.

you were so thankful the others never noticed how armin would rest his palm on your thigh, softly moving it up and down in a swift motion, or how you often placed your arm behind his back, moving yourself closer to him, because “your previous posture became painful”.

do i need to repeat that sasha behaved like a kid on a ferris wheel?

“you should really cut down on caffeinated drinks, sasha, you’re almost resembling that squirrel from “hoodwinked”, connie remarked, earning him a great laugh from the rest of you.

at the end of the date, armin and you split from the group as he offered to walk you back home (sasha asked you to “take care” and winked, connie and jean giving her some inquiring looks).

you reached your door sooner than you’d like, but before you could turn around to say anything, armin cupped your face and kissed you and god knows how long you’d been longing for that kiss, that turned deeper and warmer the more you kept your lips attached to each other.

you parted from the kiss after what felt like a sweet eternity, but was probably only a couple of minutes, both breathless, cheeks turning pink.

“today was rather… overwhelming, but do you maybe wanna meet tomorrow and… talk? about us, i mean?” he asked you nervously, fidgeting with his fingers.

“sure thing, armin! i’ll text you in the morning!” and with that, you said your goodbyes (it was "one more kiss, and one more, and one more, and one final kiss, pleeease, y/n!") and you walked upstairs to your apartment.

(I ALMOST DIED OF ANGST, I DIDN’T WRITE THIS POST, THIS POST WROTE ME)

[tenjikyu]

It has been an illegal amount of time since I've been on tumblr (like a week and a half), but I'm back.

Hope you're doing well!

Anyways! Provided you're not busy (take however much time you need, whether that be a week or whatever), I have thought of another Tokyorev request since I've been rewatching the anime. There is a staggering lack of m!reader x Rindou on this platform, so therefore, here is my request.

How about m!reader x Rindou (romantic/fluff, whatever) where reader is a lesser known delinquent in Roppongi (2005 for reference) who constantly gets into fights, and winds up fighting Rindou and Ran. I'll leave it up to you if he wins or loses, but basically he catches Rindou's eye. I'm trying not to make my requests super detailed so I can leave space for creative liberties.

Well, there's the request, do with that what you will. Also I will probably be dropping a BSD request on you soon, so fair warning.

— 🎭

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 ) 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

🎐rindou haitani x m!reader ‪‪ ༄

🎐fluff, headcanon format bc i’m struggling, lowercase intended, possibly ooc bc i haven’t touched any tokyo rev content in months but ill do my best. ‪‪the fight scene is WHACK bc i suck at writing it so im begging yall to ignore ༄

🎐 you were a rambunctious little shit growing up, and it was to nobody’s surprise you ended up roaming the streets of roppingi, picking fights with anyone you could see

🎐 you were smart though, choosing to grief on people you knew you could take on and people who were interested in fighting. you had no interest in bashing innocent passerby’s and people who could clearly stomp you into the concrete.

🎐 boxing and martial arts was something your parents had put you into as a way to vent out all that energy (it didn’t work, you still beat the shit outta the kids in your school), so you had both a good technique and a strong fist whenever you threw yourself into battle a fight.

🎐 this all changed the day you encountered the haitani brothers, rindou and ran.

🎐 their reputation was nothing exaggerated, and their eye for fashion was also nothing short of perfection. they were flashy and had total control over roppongi before they were even adults.

🎐 you never thought you’d have to end up laying hands on either of them, let alone both at the same time, until last week.

🎐 you were much less known then the brothers, however that doesn’t mean you didn’t have friends and alliances on the streets. you were a fun and energetic character, who had no problem stepping up if someone worth saving needed help. and that gave you a good reputation between the other lower gangs in the area.

🎐 so, when you saw the haitani brothers beating the shit out of your friends forehead, you wasted no time jumping in.

🎐 it was a shitty battle, with a 2v1 (your friend was fucked UP, bro was no help) , however your martial arts techniques prepared you for rindou’s quick movements, and your boxing provided a good punch to his pretty face.

🎐 in the end, it was clear you were going to lose. you bet if only one were there you might’ve stood a chance, however on the verge of passing out, decided to accept your fate and hope you don’t end up dead.

🎐 however you find that as you collapse, you watch them both walk off into the distance.

🎐 wait wtf.

🎐 they weren’t gonna torture you ? or break your bones ?

🎐 if you were a little more conscious, you might’ve been able to hear the conversation between the two brothers, however you knocked tf out not a minute after.

“so why are we letting that boy off the hook? he jumped into a fight that wasn’t his” ran curiously asked his little brother.

“to jump into a fight you know your gonna lose is honorable, however if he does it again then we can shatter his arms!” rindou perclaims, a flushed face that clearly wasn’t coming from the fight he just fought.

as ran looks back at the two bodies behind him, he thinks to himself…

nah i’m kidding ofc bro speaks his mind.

“nah, we’ve beaten up plenty of dudes doing the same thing. you just think that kid back there is hot huh.”

“ran what the FUCK-”

[xotication]

can u do gamer!kaneki and reader doing a stream where it’s just them goofing off and doing random stuff? like reader does his makeup on stream, smash or pass w anime characters, etc. ofc if you’d like !! thank u ♡

of course! sorry this took so long :(

☆,

as you know, kaneki has been streaming for a while now. his viewers love him, but they also love you! he’s starting to think he can’t have one stream where they’re not begging him to bring you in.

eventually you become a reoccurring guest, no matter what is is you two are doing.

his viewers eventually give you guys ideas of some silly things to do.

like one time you guys had to remake peoples instagram stories. you guys would just scroll thru your mutuals stories & randomly click on one.

it left you guys posting some corny couple photos, random fit checks, your attempts at some of the fancy dinners they were eating, or even random videos between them & their friends.

another time, the viewers begged & BEGGED the two of you to play smash or pass & it was the funniest thing ever.

“okok. uhm, smash or pass satoru gojo”

“smash.”

“smash.”

“hello??”

“what- i can’t smash gojo but you can?? he’s my glorious blue eyed king!”

“YOUR?! ken baby, he doesn’t even know who you ARE!”

“just shhh..”

“ok wtv. smash or pass eren jaeger”

“pass..”

“smash.”

“excuse me? didn’t he commit like every war crime.. ever?”

“ok & he was sexy while doing it all.”

“is that what i have to do for you..?”

“absolutely.”

“you were supposed to say no….”

“oh-”

this continued with a plethora of people & by the end of it, you guys were questioning each other so hard.

some of your guys’ other friends got wrapped into the content. one night you called up hide to test his loyalty.

“uhm- hey hide. is kaneki there with you? he said he’d be hanging out with you, but i haven’t heard from him in hours.”

hide literally requests to facetime you & walks you throughout his whole house to show no signs of kaneki. manz was playing NO games. & kaneki was so heartbroken.

“bro how’re you gonna expose me like that?!”

“bc if you’re cheating on your girl, i’m not gonna help you cover that shit up. be a man, moron”

“ok chill. i didn’t even cheat”

“yeah +10k aura for hide..”

“ok i’m hanging up wtf”

-

you ended up asking ken if you guys could do a cooking and/or baking stream. but without a recipe, he agrees & this makes for the most viral stream yet.

you have hide and ayato there to let you guys know how much time there is left, to referee the whole situation, & ofc to judge the food

you’re instructed to make pasta, FROM SCRATCH.

things start off well, but when you take a bathroom break, kaneki ends up sabotaging your dish.

he’s adding in a lil bit too much salt to your pasta sauce, & tasting it makes his whole face scrunch up.

when you come back, hide looks so guilty. like he had seen something he wasn’t supposed to see. which was of course, the underlying truth. all the while ayato was there, pokerfaced.

noticing this, you immediately assume ken is suspicious, “kaneki what’d you do.”

“what?? nothing.”

“hide is he lying.”

“i dunno”

“you were here the whole time?! ‘wdym i dunno’ you do know!”

“no i don’t?!”

you decide to let it go.

the whole process is chaotic, but fun. by the time it’s ready for judging, you & kaneki were both stressed out.

making noodles from SCRATCH without a recipe isn’t an easy task.

ken’s plate looked like mario & luigi threw it up, while yours looked like a penguin just regurgitated it to its baby.

you guys place the plates on the dinner table & you sit across from ayato & hide.

“alright chat. the foods done, looking rather.. interesting. i’m a little hesitant & scared to consume this but, we move”

“shall we?” ayato hands hide a fork & they both take a bite from ken’s dish first.

“uh- okay. i mean it’s definitely food. definitely a plate of food, i think” hide speaks first.

& ayato follows up with, “this is awful, ken”

kaneki gasps, almost as if hurt by the words, “okay then try y/n’s!”

& when they do, they’re pleasantly surprised. hide was expecting it to be salty as FUCK. but of course you peeped the chat saying how much salt ken had added. so you just added a shit ton of tomato sauce to even it all out. & it made for a yummy dish!

“this is decent! it’s not the greatest ever, but it’s also not the worst. definitely better than kaneki’s. the noodles are bit easier to chew & the sauce is almost normal”

“so did i win” you asked & ken looked so defeated in his seat..

“uhm. no you didn’t win. rightfully so, anyway.” ayato informs him & you jump for joy!

“you shouldn’t have tried to sabotage me, ken”

“how’d you even know?!”

-

lastly, one day you were super bored. you didn’t even plan on getting in stream with ken. you kinda just wanted to chill that day. but you chilled too hard. now you were literally doing nothing.

you put your phone down & wiped your eyes after scrolling through tiktok for what felt like hours.

“what to do, what to do” you said to yourself.

an idea clicks & you quickly jumped from your bed to make way to your closet.

you're putting on a cute dress & getting ready for, well, nothing at all. but it's all part of the plan. ken is so wrapped up in his gaming that he takes no notice of you at all. you're at your vanity pulling together the last pieces of your look.

even chat notices before your own boyfriend does, they're thinking ken has to leave soon because you guys are going somewhere but that's not at all the case.

you're stood by the bedroom door, all dolled up & pretty. "okay ken, i'm gonna go to target!" he looks back at you for a quick second & then back at his monitor.

"okay, see you later, love you!"

you walk out the room & ken is reading his chat. "target.. in that outfit?" "bro is not going to target" "bro didn't even see what his girl was wearing" "ken.. she said target, not the red carpet"

finally ken takes a second to picture what it was you were wearing again, & he gets up so fast he almost falls.

mans literally sprints out the room, out the house, & finds you sitting in your car. when you saw him, the last thing you had expected him to do was remove you from the car, & throw you over his shoulder but that's exactly what he does.

ken carries you all the way to the bedroom & throws you on the bed. stream STILL going btw.

"change."

is all he says before he's sat back in his chair, queuing into another game.

most of the girls in the chat are going crazy, rightfully so tbh.

ken looked back at you to see if you had listened, & when he saw you on the bed, still just laying there.. he wasted no time ending the stream.

he began to undress you himself. took off his own shirt, pulled it over your head, & then he took you to the bathroom to help wash your makeup off.

"going to target my fucken ass."

blehhhhhhh

[thetarotwitch111]

Beetlejuice's advice - Pick a beetlejuice (Pick a card)

Happy Friday the 13th! 👻

✨help me keep doing the free pacs: tip jar

✨ personal readings - [requests open]

Good luck with Beetlejuice sweet advice...

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

Beetlejuice

Well, well, well! You’ve gone and picked this pile, huh? You must be ready to get wild! And I mean wild, baby! Here’s the deal: You’ve been holding back, trying to play it cool, but I can smell it on ya! you’re bursting to break free and let your instincts take over. Right now, life’s been a bit too tame, hasn’t it? Like a boring old dinner party with those dull folks in the afterlife. You know what I’m talking about!

It’s time to unleash that primal side of yours. Stop thinking, start acting! You’ve got this fire in you that’s been waiting to come out, so let it roar! Whether it’s chasing after a passion, saying what you really think, or just shaking things up, now’s your moment to own it. Don’t worry about making a mess. Look at me, I’m the king of messes, and it works out just fine! You wanna go after something? Do it! You’ve got the instincts of a predator, so go ahead and pounce.

Life’s too short to play by the rules, and you know what? Rules are for suckers! Break ‘em, make some noise, and watch how everything around you changes when you’re the one calling the shots. After all, it’s showtime, baby!

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

2. Beetlejuice

Oooh, look at you, picking this one. I can smell the love vibes from here! Someone’s looking for connection, huh? Whether it’s romance, friendship, or just some human contact, you’re in the mood for something deeper. And guess what? It’s coming your way faster than you can say Beetlejuice 3 times!

Right now, you’ve been feeling like something’s missing. You want more than the usual small talk and surface-level stuff. Well, here’s a little secret...when you let your guard down, the real magic happens! Show people that squishy center of yours, even if it makes you feel a little awkward. Hey, if I can try to marry a living one, then you can take a risk on love, right? Open yourself up, let people see the real you, and boom! You’ll attract the kind of connection that’ll make you feel alive again.

Whether it’s a deep friendship, a romantic spark, or just more fun, you’re gonna feel that spark light up soon. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone who loves a little chaos, just like me. So how about it? Any plans for a wedding soon? I’ve been trying to get hitched for a long time, but you…you’re a catch. Just saying.

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

3. Beetlejuice

Ahh, you’re one of the deep thinkers, aren’t ya? I can tell. You’re not just here for the easy level stuff, no sir! You want the real deal! the big answers to those cosmic questions! And let me tell ya, you’re on the right track. You know what they say: I’m the ghost with the most, babe, and I see some serious mystery heading your way!

You’ve probably been feeling a little tug, haven’t you? Something’s been calling you to dive deeper, whether it’s a gut feeling, a dream, or just that weird sense that there’s more going on than meets the eye. Well, spoiler alert: You’re right! You’re getting ready to tap into something big, and it’s gonna blow your mind. The universe is trying to show you the secret behind the curtain, and you’ve got front-row seats to the show!

So what’s next? Start paying attention. The signs are there! those strange little synchronicities, those moments that make you go, WTF. Yeah, that’s the universe talking to ya. Don’t ignore it! Follow the breadcrumbs, trust your gut, and dive headfirst into the unknown. You’re about to discover something big that’s gonna shake up how you see the world. And let me tell ya, it’s gonna be a ride you’ll never forget. Just remember: You’re dealing with a professional here!

[aphroditeinthesea]

DATING TRAVIS HCS PLEASEEEEEEEE

(also, your 'he says im pretty in his clothes' one was so good!! <33 my manz deserves more appreciation frfr)

“ no matter what u do, i’m gonna steal ur heart ”

aka dating travis stoll

i accidentally did this as fem!reader but i just realized u didn’t specify sorry!!

this also might seem short but i cut out part of it bc it seemed random

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

- if travis had a crush, i just know he would try to impress her with something so dumb

- he would do like an overly extravagant prank

- and be like “this has to work”

- and she would barely notice

- and he would just be stuck with cleaning duty

- here’s the thing though

- she would totally like him back

- but he has like no idea

- live laugh love travis stoll but he’s so dumb

- so she would like try to get a note to him during the campfire

- one of those “will u go out with me yes or no”

- and it’s getting passed

- once he gets it, he’s like flabbergasted

- so he circles yes and makes it into a paper airplane

- throws it

- it lands in the fire

- and they just stare at each other like 👁️👁️

- so just before curfew, he runs up to her like “yes omg alfhjdjsfjh”

- (in actual words, he’s like “yeah, that’d be cool”)

- omg he would plan that first date like it was a warplan

- she would figure that they would do something in camp bc yk the rules

- do you really think he even realizes there’s rules?

- suddenly they’re sneaking into an expensive restaurant in nyc

- causing a ruckus

- and then running out

- nothing says romance like dining and dashing ❤️

- back to not breaking the law

- gifts!!!

- he would so steal so many cute things for his gf

- and she’s like “this must’ve been so expensive??”

- and he’s like “yeah it must’ve”

- a diamond ring and she’s all “travis wtf”

- and he’s like “it’s a family heirloom (not mine though)”

- he also seems like he would always have to have a hand on her at all times

- either arm around her shoulders or waist

- or ass

- anyways he’s like the kinda guy to be absolutely obsessed with his gf

- like finding any reason to bring her up

- i just feel like he would always try to include his gf in pranks yk

- like connor would be like “we should do xyz”

- and then travis is like “actually y/n could help bc yada yada”

- she actually has just a few more brain cells than them so they don’t get in trouble when she helps

- well not as much trouble as they usually are

- im gonna cut myself off here bc i could go on forever

[n0vazsq]

Guilty as charged | Marc Bernal x Reader

pairing . . . marc bernal x gf!reader

summary . . . Buying a puppy with your boyfriend

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.2k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . THIS IS SO CUTE AND SWEET IM GONNA CRYYYY <33 ALSO WTF MY FATHER JS SAID HES TAKING AWAY ALL MY DEVICES WTF BRO

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . It was one of those sunny Saturdays where the air felt warm but not too hot, perfect for a stroll outside. You and Marc had been talking about getting a dog for a while now, but today felt like the day. You were both in a good mood, excited about the idea of bringing a puppy into your lives.

Marc had been doing his best to stay calm, but you could tell he was excited. His usual relaxed, easygoing demeanor was a little more lively than usual, and there was a sparkle in his eyes whenever he talked about it.

You, on the other hand, were practically bouncing with anticipation. A puppy was something you both had talked about for months, and now the time had finally come.

"Are you sure you’re ready for this?" you asked, teasing him as the two of you walked into the animal shelter.

Marc shot you a playful look. "Of course I am," he replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "I mean, it’s not like I’ve never had a dog before. I grew up with them."

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. "I’m just making sure you’re not going to bail out on me when the puppy wakes you up at 4 am for a bathroom break."

"I’ll be fine," he said confidently, though his eyes gleamed with excitement. "Besides, you’ll be there to help, right?"

"Of course," you said, rolling your eyes at his playful tone. "I wouldn’t leave you hanging."

Inside, the shelter was bustling with people, some with their eyes glued to the cages, others chatting with staff members. You and Marc wandered through the aisles of dogs, each one more adorable than the last.

But then, you came across a small, fluffy puppy with big brown eyes who immediately caught your attention.

"Oh my god," you whispered, bending down to get a closer look at the tiny ball of fur. "Marc, look at this one."

Marc crouched down beside you, his face lighting up the moment he saw the puppy. The little one was a mix of a golden retriever and something else, and it was all fluffy ears and big paws, the sweetest thing you’d ever seen.

"She's perfect," Marc said, his voice soft as he extended his hand to the puppy. The puppy sniffed his fingers curiously before leaning into his touch, nuzzling his hand. It was like she was already attached to him.

You could see Marc’s face soften, his usual cool and collected nature melting away as he smiled down at the puppy. "She likes me," he said, his voice almost a little in awe.

"I think she likes you a lot," you replied, your heart swelling at the sight of Marc bonding with the puppy so quickly.

The shelter worker approached you both, a kind smile on her face. "You two have good taste," she said. "She’s a sweet one. Her name is Bella."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread in your chest. "Bella. I think that’s perfect," you said, looking at Marc.

Marc’s eyes flickered to yours, a little unsure. "You sure? I mean, if you’re not one hundred percent sold, we can keep looking."

But you could see it in his eyes, he was already in love with her.

"I’m sold," you said, gently reaching out to pick Bella up. The puppy immediately snuggled against your chest, licking your chin as she settled in your arms.

Marc laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. "I guess we’re getting a puppy, then."

"I think we are," you replied with a grin, looking up at him.

He stood up and took a step closer to you, his hand resting lightly on your back. "You’re okay with this? With a puppy?"

"Are you kidding?" you asked, shaking your head in amusement. "I’ve been wanting one for ages. And now we’re getting this little one to call our own."

Marc’s smile grew wider, and he leaned down to kiss you on the cheek. "Then it’s settled. Bella’s ours."

You both made the arrangements, taking Bella home a little while later. You and Marc set up her little bed in the living room, and the three of you spent the rest of the afternoon lounging on the couch together.

Bella would occasionally wriggle around in her sleep, causing both of you to laugh at her adorable antics.

As evening came, you found yourself lying on the couch with Marc, Bella curled up between you. Marc’s arm was draped over your shoulders, and you felt his thumb gently tracing circles on your arm.

"I can’t believe we have a puppy now," you said softly, watching Bella as she slept, her little chest rising and falling with each breath. "This is crazy."

Marc chuckled, glancing down at the two of you. "Yeah, it is," he agreed, his voice low and thoughtful. "But it feels good. Like…we look like parents now."

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. "Parents, huh?"

He nodded, looking down at Bella. "I mean, we’re already taking care of her. We feed her, we walk her, we make sure she’s comfy….it kind of feels like we’re starting a little family."

You felt a rush of warmth in your chest, and for a moment, you just looked at Marc, taking in the way his face softened when he talked about the puppy. You could see the love he already had for her, and the thought that you were both doing this together made your heart swell.

"Well, if we’re parents," you said, a teasing smile spreading across your face, "then you’re definitely the dad who’s always spoiling her with treats."

Marc grinned, leaning closer to you. "Guilty as charged."

You laughed, but then he shifted so he was facing you fully, his hand gently lifting your chin so you were looking into his eyes. There was something in his gaze, something deeper than usual, filled with affection, and it made your heart skip a beat.

He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. The kiss deepened as you both lost yourselves in the moment, the gentle pressure of his lips sending a wave of warmth through you.

Bella shifted between you both, but neither of you paid her any mind. It was just the two of you, with your new puppy, and everything felt right.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads resting together, Marc smiled, his voice quiet. "I’m glad it’s you I’m doing this with. Starting this…new chapter with."

You smiled, kissing him again, this time with more affection than words could convey. "Me too. I’m glad it’s you."

Marc’s grin widened, and he pulled you in for a tight hug, one arm holding you and Bella close. "Well, we’re in this together now. Puppy and all."

You laughed, feeling more content than you ever thought possible. As you all snuggled together on the couch, you realized that life didn’t get much better than this; Marc, Bella, and the feeling that you were starting a little family of your own.

[bleue-flora]

tbh to me c!sapnap is on the same level of betraying c!dream as c!sam. It may seem far-fetched considering what c!sam did and considering we don't have much real lore content with c!sapnap or c!dreamnap, but when you look at what we DO have, it's kind of a picture

like, he's not just some stupid or short-sighted character, as it might seem at first glance - we have a ton of evidence that he understands perfectly well that prison makes c!dream physically and mentally ill, but he agrees with it. In the dialogue with c!michael he literally says "dream fucked up, prison fucked him up in another sense, but it doesn't matter, cause dream has to get better and become *my* dream again, let him stay in prison and improve, even if it breaks him idc", like wtf is this? funny, but at the same time, c!sapnap doesn't visit dream more than once, how will he know that c!dream is making progress? In c!sapnap's head, prison is supposed to be a rehabilitation for c!dream, only no one checks his progress in stopping being a "fucked up", he either sits there completely alone or people go there to hurt him and c!sapnap understands and acknowledged it, but he doesn't give a shit. I'm sorry, but this gives off sam's "I thought I broke his will to do something like that". He obviously doesn't care about c!dream and just wants his good old *convenient* friend, and he doesn't care about the consequences.

But he's not just passively harming c!dream, he's doing it actively. If the threat could still be interpreted as an emotional outburst, something he could say and regret, then his other actions clearly say the opposite. Like, the dude literally stalked and harassed c!dream for months after he found out where he lived??

The revival book was more important to him than torture. Even in the beginning, he didn't care about c!dream's reputation, when c!wilbur and c!tommy dragged it into the dirt for no reason, and he repeatedly went against c!dream or supported things that directly harmed c!dream. For me, one of the most telling scenes is c!sapnap and c!george's meeting with mexican dream's ghost, where c!sapnap, without any reason, pins the explosion of El Rapids on c!dream, and then, when he finds out that actually c!quackity was the one who did it, c!sapnap immediately says that they urgently need to go and find out why he did it, to check if he's okay and all that. This is literally the attitude you'd expect from c!tommy, to attribute every bad event to c!dream, but no, this is his so-called best friend! And of course, he only wants to know the reasons for an action when someone else does a bad action, but not c!dream - well, of course, cause it's clear that c!dream reasons are "being evil" or smth.

So, I've been in my c!sapnap hate arc for over two years now and you all should join me lmao

I didn't think I'd write SO much, but emotions took over after reading the new chapter of your fic and some of your posts, sorry abt that :"^

[context a & b]

Honestly, in my opinion his betrayal is almost worse than Sam’s, which is saying something since he literally enabled and facilitated daily torture. But like Sam wasn’t Dream’s self proclaimed brother, and at least Sam’s delusion kinda makes sense. Sapnap is just like - the chicken tastes rubbery and overcooked, so I put it in the oven and then it tasted burnt, so I put it back in the oven to help the taste and at some point I’ll take it out of the oven and then it’ll taste good again. No idea how long that’ll take, and no don’t be ridiculous I’m not gonna check on it. I swear though if anyone touches my chicken before it tastes good again like so much as removes it from the oven or seasons it I’m gonna throw it in the trash… vs Sam who’s like - the chicken tastes rubbery but I spent money on it so I’m gonna put it in the oven and turn it to charcoal so at least then it won’t be a complete waste…

ya know? Like at least Sam was corrupted by power, financial benefit, manipulated a bit, and had the blood of a “child” on his hands. Sapnap doesn’t even have that, he has a life long best friend who he heard made a speech about not caring about anything and then later a speech about wanting to control everyone, a fish in a item frame and a letter saying “thanks for visiting”…

Well I don’t know about the “even if it breaks him” I don’t think he is thinking that directing about Dream’s suffering if that makes sense, but Sapnap is delusional no doubt. I also don’t know if he even cares that much about the book in general, he just doesn’t seem to given a damn about the torture. He seems to really just be about the fear of what Dream might do and how he needs to be stopped before that.

And you do have a point, in the beginning even as his “brother” he on many occasions went against him, down to the very first disc war where they killed him multiple times. I mean if Sapnap weren’t American, he’d have probably been right alongside clingy duo in L’manberg and stuff… oh I had no idea about the El Rapids thing but am also not surprised…

What do you even mean, I am literally an engineer of this Sapnap hate train 🚂 choo choo! I be shoveling coal to keep this engine running ya know. like literally the more lore I watch the more he actually just kills me.

but anyways, I mean you read the chapter (and presumably the one before) so you know my thoughts on Sapnap lol. ;D

[elysiaheaven2]

𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗚𝗢𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘- 𝗥𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗚.𝗡 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (Part 2) end!

Used to be on @elysiaheaven

This is the request!!

02: SO MUCH FOR THE TOLERANT LEFT

Words:4000

Genre: Red Room Reader (G.N) Gore

Summary: A sadistic captor fucking you <33 livestreams their torture, taunting a shackled victim while performing brutal acts for an online audience. They theatrically respond to viewer suggestions, twisted glee, blending dark humor with horrifying violence. The chat eggs them on, turning the view into a grotesque spectacle.

This happens before you meet Ronin! (Basically

Trigger Warnings:

Graphic Violence: Depictions of physical harm, torture, and injury.

Self-Harm: Indirect references to bodily harm or deterioration (e.g., breaking nails).

Psychological Torture: Mental manipulation, humiliation, and emotional distress.

Gore: Detailed depictions of blood, injury, and bodily harm.

Blood: Intense, graphic descriptions of bloodshed.

Trauma: Psychological and physical trauma inflicted on the victim.

Moral Corruption: Exploration of a character’s lack of remorse, twisted logic, and corruption.

Death (explicit deaths with violent descriptions)

Torture (including the use of tools and sadistic behavior)

Psychological Manipulation (character dynamics that involve power and control)

Content Warnings:

Disturbing Imagery: Vivid descriptions of torture, suffering, and victimization.

Emotional Manipulation: Using guilt, fear, and despair to torment the victim.

Organ Donation: The idea of using a victim’s organs for medical purposes, which could be seen as dehumanizing.

Dark Humor: The use of dark humor surrounding violence, suffering, and exploitation.

Exploitation: The character finds satisfaction in the suffering of others.

Dehumanization: Treating the victim as an object or tool for personal satisfaction or manipulation.

Physical Harm (depictions of severe bodily injury, bruising, and broken bones)

Blood and Injury (detailed accounts of blood, wounds, and brutal attacks)

Blood Loss and Dismemberment (specific references to body mutilation, such as the use of crowbars and knives for dismemberment)

Psychological Control and Trauma (psychological torment and manipulation, including the fear of death, taunting, and intimidation)

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named Killer chat! Please play it! It's so good!

⟡ The show must go on

Welcome dear viewer, Read the warnings before reading this hell!

Ronin sat hunched over his computer, the screen illuminating his face in the dark. His fingers hovered over the keys, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to word it. How could he explain what was happening inside of him? This giddy feeling, this knot that tightened in his chest when he thought about Angel. He felt so... out of control, and he hated it. His mind was swirling with a mess of emotions, and the only thing that seemed clear was that something was happening that he couldn’t fix.

He stared at his message, his thoughts racing. His thumb finally pressed the keys.

Ronin: Angel, I need help. My heart is like... giddy? What the hell is this? It feels like I’m gonna burst. I feel so shit right now. I don’t know what’s going on inside of me, but it’s ugly. I just want to rip out my aorta and wash it but I don’t even want to do that? Wtf is wrong with me?!

He hit send and immediately felt a wave of frustration flood through him. Why couldn’t he explain himself better? It was like his insides were fighting each other, wanting something they couldn’t have. His heart, a traitor, racing when Angel even looked his way, and yet, he was ashamed of it. What was he supposed to do with all these feelings?

Angel didn’t take long to reply, their message popping up with an almost teasing wink emoji. Ronin stared at it for a moment, his pulse quickening.

Angelicc: “What the hell are they fixing you, Ronin?”

That response hit him like a bolt of lightning, igniting something deep inside him. His mind, once clouded, suddenly cleared, and he smirked.

goreboy: *Why would you care? he texts back with a playful yet taunting tone. It’s not like you could handle me if you tried, Angel.

There. He’d done it. Ronin’s fingers tapped out the last bit of the message, the little bit of frustration that had been building finally manifesting in this teasing banter. But beneath it all, his mind screamed for some kind of resolution—anything to make the knot in his chest loosen.

Angelic: God, please give me the energy to shoot you, Ronin You're so...

Ronin leaned back in his chair, phone still in hand, when the familiar ping of a notification pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. His sharp eyes glanced at the screen. The message was from the streamer.

His lips curled into an intrigued grin as he clicked it open.

Streamer: Got the guy you were talking about. Stream starts at 9 PM. Gonna be a good one.

Ronin's grin widened as he read it, his mind briefly flicking back to their conversation about the so-called "big bad" that had captured his interest. They’d actually found the guy. This was going to be fun. He couldn't wait to see how they handled it.

"Guess they’ve got a little flair for drama after all," he muttered, tossing his phone onto the desk for a moment.

But the thought lingered—there was something about this streamer that felt familiar, like a puzzle piece he hadn’t quite placed yet. They were sharp, clever, and knew just the right things to say to keep him hooked. Almost... too much like someone he already knew.

A part of him toyed with the idea, but no. That would be too wild, wouldn’t it?

Picking up his phone again, he typed out a quick message:

goreboy: Rest up, yeah? The guy’s caught, so your job’s done. You should sleep well.

He hovered over the send button for a moment, noticing your status was offline. With a sigh, he hit send anyway.

"Offline, huh?" he murmured, leaning back and letting his head tip against the chair’s edge. "Figures."

He stared at the empty room, the soft glow of the phone screen lighting his face. His heart, usually so calm and guarded, ached faintly.

It wasn’t a bad ache, though. It was warm.

"You really got me wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?" he whispered to the empty space.

Ronin closed his eyes, letting the weight of the realization sink in. He really loved you, didn’t he? His heart, as much as he hated to admit it, wasn’t lying.

The clock hit 9 PM, the moment you had been waiting for. Your heart raced in anticipation as you adjusted your mask, staring at the reflection in your screen. You were ready. Tonight’s stream would be one for the books.

The camera flicked on, and there you were, in full glory—your usual enigmatic persona, concealed behind the mask, your voice a controlled calm with just the right edge of menace.

On the other side of the screen, the man they’d just captured was already cursing, his voice a mixture of panic and fury. His words were a desperate mess of threats, accusations, and confusion, but you couldn’t help but smile at the chaos. It felt so… right. So deliciously satisfying.

You leaned forward, fingers expertly typing on the keyboard, your voice sharp as you addressed him.

“Quiet down, you filthy coward,” you said, your voice cold yet somehow amused, the words slipping from your lips effortlessly. “You’re not in control anymore. The world you once ruled is crumbling around you, and you're nothing but a puppet with its strings cut.”

You could practically hear his jaw clenching. The man had thought he was invincible, and now he was nothing more than prey in your game. And you? You were the hunter, enjoying every moment of it.

"Why don’t you shut your damn mouth and listen?" you continued, raising your hand dramatically, the camera capturing every movement. "Your sins have caught up with you. You think you can get away with everything, but tonight, you’re going to pay for all of it. I’m not just going to show you your fate—I’m going to make you feel it."

The man’s curses grew more frantic as he struggled against his restraints, but you didn’t care. You kept your focus, savoring each word you spoke, each moment of this twisted satisfaction. This was your show. You had the power, and you weren’t letting go.

"Stop squirming, it’s pointless," you added, voice dripping with mockery. "You wanted attention, and now you have it. Just sit tight, the real fun’s about to begin.”

As the stream began to settle into its rhythm, you leaned forward, gazing into the camera with that unsettling calm. The chat was flooded with messages, and your viewers were eager, waiting for the night’s show to unfold. Among the sea of usernames, you saw it—a familiar one. Goreboy69.

It barely registered among all the chaos of names scrolling by. But then it clicked—that name, those letters, the symbol of chaos that you’d recognized. You looked at it again, eyes widening for a split second. It was him.

Ronin.

The realization hit you like a jolt of electricity through your veins. He was here. Watching. Your Ronin.

You swallowed back a lump in your throat but quickly regained your composure, the same sinister smile curling onto your lips. This was your moment. Your game. The perfect twist.

"Welcome, everyone," you said smoothly, your voice smooth and warm like honey, as if everything was perfectly normal. You glanced at the chat again, giving a special nod to the man in question. "And of course, a very special welcome to... Goreboy69. You know who you are."

You let the words linger in the air, giving him a playful wink, even though you knew he couldn’t see it. The chat lit up with confusion and excitement, the viewers unknowingly swept up in the tension of the moment.

"Tonight, we’ve got someone truly special for you all," you continued, turning to the restrained man at the center of the stream. His eyes widened as he realized what was happening. But it was too late for him to do anything about it. You controlled the narrative, and he was just another pawn in your sick little game.

"Tonight's special victim has done unspeakable things," you said, slowly pacing in front of the camera, giving the chat time to catch up. "You know, he’s not just some run-of-the-mill criminal. Oh no... this one has a special kind of depravity."

The man on the screen struggled, his curses muffled by the gag in his mouth, but you weren’t interested in his weak protests. Instead, you leaned in closer to the camera, your voice dropping to a low, almost playful tone.

"You see, this lovely gentleman has stolen millions, ruined lives, and even killed—oh, the things he’s done. And tonight... well... tonight, I think he’s going to pay for them all."

You paused for a moment, savoring the tension in the air. You felt it, the rush of power. This was what you lived for.

As you started detailing his crimes, your voice began to shake with barely contained laughter. You couldn’t hold it in any longer, the absurdity of his actions tickling your sense of humor in a twisted way.

"And the best part?" you said, smirking as you bent down toward the man, your hand barely brushing against his face. "He thought he could get away with it. Thought he was untouchable."

You stood back up, chuckling darkly as the chat roared with excitement. "Well, tonight’s the night he gets to learn the hard way... that no one is untouchable."

The man struggled against his restraints, his face turning pale as you recounted his heinous acts—how he had killed people in cold blood, how he’d abused his power, how he'd ruined countless lives without a second thought. You could barely keep your laughter contained as you continued.

"Look at him squirm," you mocked. "Isn’t it just hilarious? All his bravado crumbling in seconds. You should've seen the look on his face when he realized who really has the power now."

Your laughter bubbled up again as the man began to choke on his words, his breathing shallow from both fear and the gag, but it didn’t matter. You were in control now. Every moment of his suffering was a triumph, and you knew he couldn’t escape it.

"Isn’t it just beautiful?" you murmured, gazing at the screen with twisted satisfaction. "Justice... and so much more."

You let the man suffer in silence for a moment, savoring the absolute control you had over him. And as you glanced again at Goreboy69's name, your heart raced with a mix of excitement and curiosity. Was Ronin watching? Yes you idoit!

You couldn’t wait to find out.

You leaned over the bound man, your smile never fading as you tilted your head, eyes gleaming with sick delight. His terror was palpable, a fragile thing he clung to in a desperate bid to escape, but there was no escape for him. Not here. Not with you.

You taunted him, your voice dripping with mock sympathy as you circled him slowly. "Tell me," you whispered softly, leaning down to his ear as he trembled, "How could you kill her? Your wife. The one you swore to protect, to love. How did you bring yourself to do that?" You let the words linger, his eyes wide, filled with dread. He was barely holding himself together, but his body was still betraying him with every ragged breath.

Without waiting for an answer, you swiftly grabbed a knife, its cold edge gleaming under the dim light, and drove it into the muscle of his arm, the blade sinking deep with an almost sickening ease.

His scream echoed, muffled by the gag, but the sound of it was pure, raw emotion—the kind that only came when a man realized how powerless he truly was. Tears sprang to his eyes, his body writhing against the restraints as he sobbed.

And it was there, in that moment of utter defeat, that you felt the thrill deep within you. You loved this. You loved the power, the control, the rush of watching someone break in front of you. It made everything feel real, alive.

You straightened, taking a step back, your eyes still fixed on his broken form. You were about to speak again, but then... you noticed something in the chat.

There it was again—Goreboy69—that username flashing across your screen. You grinned, recognizing the familiar pattern of messages, but this time, there was something more.

He wasn’t just watching. He was engaged. You clicked on the notification, reading the latest message from him:

"Do it. Make him feel it. Don't hold back."

Your heart skipped a beat. He... wanted you to go further. He was encouraging it. Your grin widened as a wild idea bubbled to the surface.

Ronin. Ronin was here, watching you perform. But he didn’t know it was you, did he? He had no idea. You were about to show him just how much damage you could cause.

You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from deep within you. You almost felt giddy at the thought of him watching, probably thinking of you as someone else entirely.

Your gaze flicked back to the man before you. He was gasping, his body trembling with the shock of the pain in his arm, and yet you weren’t done. Oh, no. You still had plenty to do.

You lifted the knife again, this time moving slowly toward his eye. His fear skyrocketed as he saw the glint of the blade, his body stiffening in a futile attempt to escape. You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his skin as you hovered just inches from his face.

And that’s when you whispered, “What if I just... pluck your eye out, hm? How would you like that?”

The terror in his eyes deepened, his chest heaving as he shook his head violently. But you couldn't help but smile wider at his futile attempts to flee. He wasn’t going anywhere, not with you in control.

But then, your gaze flickered back to the chat, and the message from Goreboy69 appeared again:

"Give him hell."

You giggled again, a wicked laugh that sent a shiver down your own spine, before turning your attention back to your captive. Ronin didn’t even realize it, but with every word he typed, he was pushing you further, guiding your actions. The connection between the two of you, unspoken and unacknowledged, made everything feel even more intense.

He didn’t know who you were, but you knew exactly who he was.

And that only made everything more delicious.

Your knife hovered just above his trembling eye, the sharp edge glinting in the dim light as his fear radiated outward in waves. The man’s body jerked instinctively, pulling against the ropes, but there was no escape. He was trapped. Completely at your mercy.

You stopped, just as the knife was about to make contact, holding it steady in midair. The sharp point was so close, the breath from his panicked gasps hitting your face. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, faster and faster, the sound of it almost more satisfying than any scream.

His voice broke through the silence, a desperate cry filled with hatred and fear. "You—bitch!" he screamed, his words muffled by the gag but still full of venom. "You're a sick monster! You think you're some kind of god? You're nothing! NOTHING!"

His words didn’t affect you. In fact, they only made the thrill more intense. You smiled wider, your eyes narrowing as you leaned closer, the cold metal still inches from his eye. "Oh, you're right about one thing," you whispered softly, the knife edge almost touching his eyelid now, "I am a monster. And you're about to find out just how real it can get."

His body jerked again, this time his face contorting in an even more horrified expression, his whole being consumed by terror as he realized how close he was to losing an eye. You could see the sweat pouring down his forehead, his chest heaving violently with each breath. But you couldn’t resist—it was too tempting, too sweet.

You let the knife edge touch his skin, just for a moment, teasing the fragile layer of flesh. He screamed again, but this time it was different—a scream of pure terror as he realized he was so close to something irreversible.

And then, just as his voice broke with another desperate curse, you pulled the knife back, letting it fall to your side with a quiet, almost playful chuckle.

"You know, you’re lucky," you said, your voice light and sweet, as though you weren’t holding his life in your hands. "I’m in a good mood today. But don’t think for a second that I won’t finish what I started."

The man’s breathing slowed, but only slightly. He was still a broken mess, realizing just how close he had come to death. He cursed again, shaking his head violently in the restraints.

You turned your attention back to the screen, noticing another message from Goreboy69 pop up in the chat. You glanced at it, reading his words carefully:

*"You’re doing *great. He deserves everything. Don't stop now."

A sly smile curled on your lips. Ronin. You could almost feel his presence, even if he still didn’t know it was you. His words pushed you, made you want to go further, to make this man suffer in ways he could never have imagined.

"Well," you whispered, turning back to your victim with a grin, "I guess we can’t let him off that easy, can we?"

The man’s eyes widened in horror as you reached for the knife again. This time, there would be no hesitation.

You knelt before the trembling man, a thin, gleaming metal instrument in your grasp. Its delicate design contrasted with the brutality of its purpose.

“This will hold your eye open,” you murmured, your voice calm and detached, as if explaining a benign procedure. The man’s breath hitched, and he immediately thrashed, shaking his head violently in protest.

“NO! NO, PLEASE—”

His plea was cut off by your other hand gripping his face with unyielding strength. Your fingers dug into his skin, forcing his head to still. His terror-filled eyes darted in every direction, searching for an escape he knew didn’t exist.

“Stay. Still.” The command was firm, your tone leaving no room for disobedience. You brought the metal instrument closer, positioning it against his swollen eyelids. Despite his muffled screams and jerking motions, you carefully pried them open. The exposed orb quivered, blood pooling around its damaged edges.

“There,” you cooed, almost gently, as if offering some twisted reassurance. “Now we can get to work.”

You raised a scalpel, its blade catching the faint light, and twirled it between your fingers for the camera to see. The gesture was as elegant as it was menacing, the audience no doubt captivated. A few cheered in the chat, but one name stood out: Goreboy69.

"Perfection. Don’t stop now."

You smirked, the encouragement fueling your performance.

“I’m only cutting away the bad parts,” you explained sweetly, tilting your head as if you truly believed your words were merciful.

The man’s screams intensified as the scalpel touched his flesh, the blade slicing into the delicate tissue of his eye socket. Blood welled instantly, streaming down his face in dark, sticky rivulets. He convulsed in his restraints, his voice cracking under the strain of his terror.

The sound was exquisite: the wet scrape of the blade against ruined flesh, the metallic click as your tools grazed one another, all punctuated by his raw, guttural cries.

You carved with precision, each movement deliberate, as though you were an artist shaping a masterpiece. The chat exploded with messages—some in awe, others begging for more. Your focus, however, remained unwavering.

“Almost done,” you murmured, your voice carrying a detached serenity as though the man’s agony was merely background noise.

When you finally stepped back, the once-pristine blade was smeared crimson, and the man before you was nothing more than a shaking, sobbing wreck. You held the scalpel up for the camera, giving it a little twirl once more, your signature flourish.

The screens blazed with cold, artificial light, casting an almost clinical glow over the room. Your masked face was illuminated as you turned back toward the man, a faint smile playing on your lips.

"Ah, my apologies," you said with a soft chuckle, tilting your head in mock contrition. "I was getting carried away. But isn’t tonight’s star a bit… mundane?"

Your eyes flicked to the chat, where the messages scrolled rapidly. One caught your attention, and you read it aloud with a sly grin.

“‘No mental games today?’” You giggled, the sound saccharine and sharp. "What a vulgar question, darling! But…" You turned your gaze back to the man strapped helplessly before you, your tone dropping to a dangerous purr. "Physical pain has its own… unique ability to open and close doors, wouldn’t you agree?"

The man whimpered, barely audible. "S-save me…" he whispered, voice trembling, broken.

His wide, frantic eyes darted around the room, taking in the countless cameras positioned at every angle. He jerked against his restraints, panic overtaking him.

“What… what the hell? Why are there so many?!” His voice cracked, the fear palpable.

You ignored his frantic movements, instead feigning an air of absentminded curiosity as you rummaged through a tray of tools. Your hand paused on one particular item, and your fingers curled around it with deliberate slowness.

"I'm sure you're familiar with this sound," you said calmly, just as a loud BANG erupted, the sharp crack ricocheting through the room. The man flinched violently, his body jerking as far as the restraints allowed. His breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, his eyes darting in search of the source.

“It’s a nail gun,” you said matter-of-factly, stepping closer. You circled him with a predator’s grace, the heavy thud of your boots echoing ominously. Finally, you stopped behind him and pressed the cold, unfeeling metal tip of the pneumatic tool against his shoulder. He gasped, the contact forcing a shiver down his spine.

“Do you know what a pneumatic nail gun is, mister?” you asked sweetly, your voice dripping with mock politeness. His head lolled back, his pupils unfocused as he tried to comprehend.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” he spat, though the defiance in his voice was betrayed by the quiver of his body.

BANG!

A sharp, sickening sound rang out as the first nail was driven into his flesh. He screamed—a visceral, agonized wail that echoed in the confined space. The light from the monitors caught the glint of the metallic tip protruding from his arm, a bead of crimson welling up around it.

“Oh, it is a nail!” you cooed mockingly, as though this revelation amused you. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger again.

BANG!

His body convulsed as another nail punctured through muscle and sinew.

BANG!

And another.

BANG!

His arm hung limp now, blood trickling down in dark, sticky trails as his screams turned hoarse, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Pull them out," you instructed suddenly, your voice light, almost playful. “Go on—I give you permission.”

His swollen, shaking hand inched toward the nail lodged just below his elbow. Tears streaked his face, mingling with the sweat dripping from his brow. His trembling fingers brushed the nail’s edge, and with a ragged sob, he gripped it.

He pulled.

The slick, nauseating sensation of the nail sliding free from the meat of his arm made him lurch forward, gagging on his cries. Blood spurted from the open wound, and he froze, trembling, unable to move or speak.

You crouched beside him, tilting your head like a curious child.

“See?” you whispered, your voice as soothing as it was sinister. “Pain can teach you so much more than words ever could.”

You turned to the chat, the scrolling messages flashing across your monitor. A particularly enthusiastic suggestion caught your eye, and you tilted your head, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips beneath the mask.

"Oh? Power tools, you say?" you cooed, running your gloved fingers across the array of instruments laid out before you. "Darling, you're positively spoiling me with ideas tonight."

Your hand hovered over a blowtorch, the sleek metal gleaming under the harsh lights. Picking it up, you tested the weight in your hand before turning to your guest of honor. His bloodshot eyes widened in absolute terror as recognition dawned on him.

"You know what this is, don’t you?" you teased, igniting the torch with a sharp flick. A controlled flame roared to life, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The man screamed, his cries raw and piercing, his body thrashing against the restraints with renewed desperation.

"Please—NO! STOP!" he begged, his voice breaking, but the words only seemed to delight you further.

"Shh, shh…" you said softly, your tone almost soothing. You leaned in close, the flame dancing mere inches from his face. "I just want to see how much heat you can take before you… break."

The flame licked toward him, and he jerked his head to the side, trying to evade the searing heat. You chuckled, the sound cold and devoid of mercy, as you brought the torch down toward his arm.

The fabric of his shirt began to singe, curling and blackening under the intensity of the flame. He shrieked as the heat seared his skin, the acrid stench of burning flesh filling the air. His screams were guttural, primal, as though the agony had reached into the very depths of his soul.

"Music to my ears," you said with a laugh, pulling the torch back momentarily. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, his face contorted in agony.

You turned back to the chat, which was erupting in chaotic glee.

"Too much already? Or should I keep going?" you asked, tilting your head at the screen. The responses came in fast, a flood of sadistic encouragement that made your grin widen.

"Ah, it seems they're not satisfied yet," you said, turning your gaze back to the trembling, broken man before you. "And I do hate disappointing my audience."

You crouched down to the trembling man's level, tilting your head as if inspecting him with genuine curiosity. He was panting, his face glistening with sweat and twisted in agony. Slowly, you raised the blowtorch again, the flame roaring to life with a menacing hiss.

“Don’t worry,” you cooed, your tone dripping with mock reassurance. “I’m only doing you a favor. These open wounds? They’re… unsightly. We wouldn’t want an infection now, would we?”

He screamed as you guided the flame toward one of the nail punctures in his arm, the raw flesh exposed and oozing. The moment the fire kissed his skin, his entire body convulsed violently. The sound of sizzling flesh filled the room, accompanied by his blood-curdling shrieks.

“Shhh,” you whispered, pressing the blowtorch closer. The flame lingered, sealing the wound shut with a grotesque crackle. The scent of charred meat was overpowering, and you wrinkled your nose playfully. “You’re lucky I’m such a perfectionist. I wouldn’t want to leave you half-done.”

You moved to the next wound, repeating the process with deliberate slowness. He thrashed against the restraints, his muffled sobs and cries blending into a pathetic symphony of suffering. Each press of the torch elicited fresh screams, his voice growing hoarse from the relentless abuse.

Finally, you clicked the torch off and set it down with care, the room falling eerily silent except for his ragged breathing. “There. All sealed up. Isn’t that better?” you asked, tilting your head as though expecting gratitude. He merely whimpered, tears streaming down his face.

But you weren’t done yet. Not even close.

You reached out with your gloved hand, gripping the scorched, charred flesh around one of the wounds. “Now, let’s not waste good food,” you said with a sadistic grin, peeling away a burnt piece of flesh. The man recoiled in horror, shaking his head violently as you held it up in front of his face.

“Open wide,” you sang, your voice lilting with dark amusement. He clenched his jaw shut, his entire body trembling in revulsion.

“Oh, come on,” you said, your tone darkening, the glint in your eyes dangerous. “Don’t make me force you.”

When he didn’t comply, you grabbed his jaw with one hand, squeezing until his mouth popped open with a guttural cry. You shoved the charred piece of meat inside, your gloved fingers pressing it against his tongue.

“Chew,” you commanded, your voice icy. He gagged, tears streaming down his face as he bit down reluctantly. The crunch of the scorched tissue was nauseating, and his sobs grew louder as he swallowed.

You purred mockingly, patting his cheek with your bloodstained glove. “Now wasn’t that delicious?” You turned back to the chat, where the messages were pouring in, a cacophony of unhinged excitement and demands for more.

You turned your attention back to the man, his face contorted with pure, unfiltered terror. His sobs were erratic, broken by sharp intakes of breath as he trembled beneath your gaze.

“Ah,” you sighed theatrically, dragging a gloved finger along the edge of his mangled arm. “All this lovely flesh… it feels like such a waste, doesn’t it?”

He whimpered, shaking his head in weak protest, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please... no more...”

But your grin only widened, a glint of sadistic delight in your eyes. “Oh, come now. You don’t want to waste the gift of life, do you? And what’s more personal than… sharing a part of yourself?”

You picked up a small, serrated blade, twirling it deftly for the camera. The chat was ablaze, cheering you on, demanding more. One message caught your eye: "Feed him to himself! Ultimate justice!"

“Such a poetic suggestion,” you mused aloud, chuckling softly. Then, without hesitation, you grabbed his wrist and pressed the blade into the fleshy part of his palm. He screamed as you sawed through the muscle, carving a small, bloodied chunk free. The meat dangled grotesquely from the tip of the knife as you held it up for the camera.

“Here we go,” you cooed, bringing the knife closer to his face. He thrashed weakly, his body utterly spent from the torment. “Open wide, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“No! No, no, no!” he cried, his voice cracking, but his defiance only seemed to fuel your amusement. You let out an exaggerated sigh before pinching his jaw open once again, forcing the piece of his own flesh past his lips.

“Chew,” you commanded firmly, your voice like steel. He hesitated, and you pressed the flat of the blade against his throat. “Now.”

Tears streamed down his face as he obeyed, his teeth grinding against the sinewy meat. The sound was sickening, wet and gristly, and his gagging made it clear he was fighting every instinct to spit it out. But you wouldn’t let him.

“Swallow,” you ordered, your tone low and threatening. His throat bobbed as he choked the piece down, and you clapped your hands together mockingly.

“Bravo!” you said, turning to the camera with a playful smirk. “He’s such a good boy for all of us, isn’t he?”

The chat exploded with messages: "More!" "Make him eat more of himself!" "This is ART!"

You hummed thoughtfully, glancing down at your trembling victim. “Well, chat has spoken,” you said cheerfully, picking up the blade again. “Let’s see how much more we can get before he starts losing consciousness, shall we?”

His scream echoed through the room as the blade met his flesh once more.

The man’s screams turned to desperate sobs, his head lolling weakly as he struggled to stay conscious. Blood dripped steadily onto the cold floor, pooling beneath him in dark, sticky puddles.

“P-please,” he gasped, his voice hoarse and broken. “Please… just kill me. End it. I can’t… I can’t take anymore.”

You tilted your head, as if considering his plea, the blowtorch still idling in your hand with its ominous hiss. “Kill you?” you echoed, your tone light and almost amused. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? If I just kill you now, we’ll miss out on all the potential, all the possibilities.”

Tears streamed down his face, mixing with sweat and blood. “Please…” he whispered, his words barely audible. “I’m begging you...”

You knelt down, bringing yourself to eye level with him, your mask glinting in the harsh light. “Begging, huh?” you murmured. “You begged your wife, too, didn’t you? When you hit her? When you—” You didn’t finish the sentence, your voice curling into icy disdain.

His eyes widened, his breath hitching as shame and fear mingled in his expression. “I... I was wrong... I know! Please, I deserve it! Just—just make it stop!”

You let out a soft, almost pitying laugh, reaching out to cup his bloodied cheek. He flinched at your touch, but you held him firmly, your grip unrelenting.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you purred mockingly, “death would be a mercy. And mercy is something you don’t deserve. Not yet.”

You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t get to take the easy way out. You’ll suffer, piece by piece, just like your victims did. You’ll feel every ounce of their pain until there’s nothing left of you but regret and broken pieces.”

The man sobbed uncontrollably, shaking his head as if trying to deny the reality of your words. “No… no more… please…”

You straightened up, flicking the blowtorch off with a decisive click. “You’re not going anywhere, darling,” you said, your voice saccharine yet sharp. “We’ve only just begun.”

Turning back to the camera, you offered your viewers a cheerful wave. “Chat, should we take this slow and savor it? Or should we get creative with our next session? Let me know!”

You turned back to the screens, your voice bright and chillingly cheerful.

"Who's ready for the grand finale?" you announced, the smile behind your mask almost audible. "You came here for blood, and blood you shall receive!"

From behind your back, you produced a knife, holding it out toward the broken man slumped before you.

"Here," you said softly, almost kindly. "They want to see blood. So give it to them. It's the least you can do."

His trembling eyes flicked to the blade in your hand, a flicker of understanding and horror crossing his face. Slowly, his shackled hands reached out, the sound of metal scraping against metal filling the tense air.

"They want blood," you repeated, your voice a honeyed whisper as he grasped the knife. "Give it to them. Become the spectacle you always were."

He stared at the weapon in his shaking hands. The weight of it felt heavier than it should have, as though it carried more than just steel. His breath hitched, and with a sharp intake of air, he slashed at his own arm.

The cut was clumsy but deep, a line of crimson blooming against pale flesh. He gasped, then slashed again—harder this time, more frantic. Blood began to pool, spilling over his lap and onto the floor.

You took a step back, folding your arms as you watched him spiral into madness. The audience in the chat was electric, messages flooding in with cheers and disbelief.

He was unraveling. You’d broken him.

The knife hovered at his stomach now, the trembling tip pressing into soft flesh. He froze, unsure, his blood-slicked fingers hesitating.

You tilted your head, your voice dropping to a low, venomous hiss. "Do it. Die by your own hands, bastard. That’s your punishment. Become the show—like you did to her."

His eyes widened, a flicker of defiance mingling with despair, but it wasn’t enough. With a sickening squelch, he plunged the knife into his own abdomen. His scream was raw, guttural, the sound of a man tearing himself apart.

You stepped closer, kneeling before him as he coughed up blood, the crimson liquid staining his chin. Without hesitation, you grasped his trembling hands and guided them.

"Deeper," you commanded coldly, dragging the blade through layers of flesh and muscle.

The room echoed with his wet, choking cries as his insides began to spill from the gaping wound. He dropped the knife with a clatter, his bloodied fingers fumbling to touch the viscera now exposed to the cold air.

And then, trembling and weak, he reached inside himself, his expression one of awe and horror as he grasped something warm and slick. With a guttural cough, he pulled it free—a glistening, pulsating mass dripping with blood and bile.

The chat erupted. Messages flew by faster than you could read them, a frenzy of horror, fascination, and exhilaration.

You smiled, rising to your feet and turning to the camera.

"Now that," you said, your voice calm and composed, "is what it means to put on a show."

You stepped closer, the glint of something metallic catching the light as you unraveled a thin, taut wire from your pocket. The man, slumped and delirious, barely registered what you were doing until you slipped it around his neck.

"Please…" he croaked, his voice shredded and weak. "Let me live… I’ll do anything—"

You pulled the wire tight.

The sharp, strangled gasp he let out was drowned by the symphony of his panicked gurgles. His hands shot up instinctively, clawing at the wire digging deep into his skin, but it was useless.

"Live?" you mocked, your voice lilting like a twisted lullaby. "You want to live after everything you’ve done? After you begged me to kill you just moments ago? Make up your mind, darling."

He choked, his eyes bulging as blood trickled from the thin, precise lacerations forming around his throat. His body convulsed, every muscle spasming in desperation, but your grip on the wire remained steadfast, unyielding.

The room echoed with his choking cries, the metallic scent of blood thickening in the air.

"Beg louder," you sneered, leaning in close. "Scream if you want to be heard, but I don’t think anyone’s listening."

He gurgled, his words reduced to wet, incoherent gasps as the life drained from his face. You held the wire tighter, your own bloodied hands trembling—not from exertion, but from the sheer euphoria coursing through you.

And then, with one final shudder, his body went limp.

The blood pooling beneath him was a gruesome masterpiece, and his lifeless eyes stared at nothing, wide with terror. The room fell silent except for your own ragged breathing.

And then you laughed.

It started as a soft chuckle, but it grew—wild, unhinged, echoing off the walls like a symphony of chaos. The chat erupted in hysteria, but you barely noticed. You were drunk on the moment, every fiber of your being alight with exhilaration.

You wiped the blood from your hands onto your already-stained clothes, turning back to the camera.

"Well," you said, your grin audible even through the mask, "that was fun, wasn’t it?"

You continued to laugh, a manic, bone-chilling sound that filled the empty space, bouncing off the cold walls. It wasn’t just amusement—it was the high of control, of domination, of having broken another soul to your will. The laughter bubbled up, unstoppable, each giggle darker than the last.

The chat exploded, flooding the screen with messages, all calling for more, egging you on. You could see it in their words, in the thirst for the chaos you just unleashed. They wanted more, always more. But you knew—no one could handle what you had just done.

"Look at him," you said, still laughing, voice crackling with delight. "What a beautiful mess he is. The blood. The agony. His desperate attempts to cling to life... Pathetic."

Your fingers traced the outline of the knife, still slick with the remnants of his suffering. The screen flickered for a moment, the feedback of the camera shifting with the sickening pleasure you felt watching the lifeless body slump in its final form. You wiped your lips with your sleeve, almost theatrically, as if savoring the last drops of something far sweeter than any wine.

The room, drenched in the aftermath, felt like a stage—your stage. Your laughter rang out, drowning the voices of the audience, who had become no more than background noise to your performance.

"Don't you love it, darling?" you murmured, the smile on your face never leaving. "This is what you wanted, right? This is what all of you want—someone, anyone, willing to go just a little bit further, to rip it all apart for the thrill."

You leaned into the camera, your voice low and seductive, the mask a mere formality now.

"Tell me, what next? What should we do with the next one? Hmm?"

You leaned back, the laughter from the screen still lingering in your throat. It echoed in your mind as you looked at the chat, the names disappearing one by one until only one remained.

Goreboy69.

You smiled, a cold, knowing smile that stretched across your face, and without breaking eye contact with the camera, you spoke directly to him.

“Stay,” you commanded, voice dripping with malicious sweetness.

He typed back, confused: “Hm? What is it?”

You let the silence hang between your words. Slowly, deliberately, you met his gaze through the lens, unblinking, like you were staring into the very core of his soul.

"Are you the Devil's Butcher?" you asked, your voice as calm and steady as if you were asking about the weather.

The response was almost instant, "Huh? Looks like Someone's onto me? What now Darling?"

Mockingly, you chuckled. Of course, you knew who he was. —he just didn’t realize it yet. But that was part of the fun, wasn’t it? Keeping him in the dark while you played your own game.

You leaned in, your lips curling into an even darker grin as you addressed him through the screen, voice sharp.

“So, how was the show tonight?” you asked. Your smile widened. "Did you enjoy the blood?"

He replied quickly, boasting: “Pretty good, still not as good as me in gore. I could teach you.”

Your laughter bubbled up again, light but chilling. “Teach me? Oh, darling, I think you should learn from me,” you teased, not bothering to hide the amusement in your voice. “But I’ll give you one thing... the next show’s guest will be you.”

You paused, letting the weight of your words sink in. Then, you finished with a final, gleeful laugh.

“Be ready for a bloodbath, Ronin Beaufort. HAHAHAHA!”

And just like that, you ended the stream, the screen going black as you leaned back, savoring the thrill. You'd sent him a message.

Ronin's mind spun with confusion and amusement as he muttered to himself, his hand tapping the edge of the table. "How the hell did they know my name?" He laughed softly, though there was something darker behind it, a smirk curling on his lips as he leaned back in his chair.

It was a question that gnawed at him, a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. The cryptic message, the strange connection... it didn’t sit well, but something about it ignited a spark. Maybe it was the audacity of the person on the other side, maybe it was how easily they played his game.

The Devil, after all, was always watching, always playing his cards.

His smile widened as he whispered under his breath, almost to himself, “Pretty good... but I’ll show ‘em who’s really in charge.” There was that same glint in his eyes, the one that screamed danger and thrill, the one that promised nothing but chaos to whoever dared to provoke him.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard again, he typed slowly, savoring the weight of every word. His thoughts dripped with venom as he set the next scene in motion.

The next day, you noticed something strange in the server. Ronin was acting… off, or at least, different than usual. He had pinged V, of all people—V, the one person who hated his guts, almost as much as Ronin loved messing with him. But this time, it wasn’t the usual insults or jabs. No, this time, Ronin dropped a chilling message.

"Damn @k9, someone’s gonna kill your kill."

You understood immediately. He was playing a game, one that only he fully understood, but you weren't going to let him take the lead on this.

You didn’t respond right away, though. You knew better than to react impulsively. Instead, you asked, "What happened?" knowing full well what he was talking about. You wanted him to keep talking, to give you more.

In the middle of all this, there was V. The thorn in Ronin's side, and the perfect counter to everything Ronin stood for. Their relationship was a mess of contradictions. On the surface, they were complete opposites—V, the so-called "righteous" killer, and Ronin, the chaotic force of evil. They didn’t like each other, of course. But somewhere beneath that intense animosity, there was something else. A kind of respect, even if they wouldn’t admit it.

Neither of them would ever say it out loud, especially not under threat of torture, but the truth was, they were perfect for each other. V, with his morality complex, hated Ronin because he embodied everything wrong with humanity, while Ronin despised V for trying to impose some false sense of order on the chaos of the world. It was a dangerous and sickening dance they did, each one trying to outdo the other, each one pushing the other further into madness.

Ronin never minded baiting V. He enjoyed it too much. The way V’s righteous fury bubbled over, how it drove him to action. It was all so easy. But the thing that bothered Ronin, that gnawed at him in ways he wouldn’t show, was the simple fact that V hated him for being everything V wanted to fix. Ronin loved every minute of it.

And now? It was getting worse. Everyone in the server was worried. Angelic had even mentioned something about a streamer saying they were going to kill Ronin. Even she was doing something to find who it was... Even V was searching for the address. The irony was thick enough to cut with a knife—V trying to play hero, trying to hunt down someone like Ronin, all while completely ignoring the hypocrisy of his own existence.

Ronin, though, wasn’t worried. He was too smug for that.

“Aww, someone’s worried for me?” Ronin typed, his usual teasing tone evident. “V’s trying to find the address to kill me before they get the chance, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky attitude and typed back, “Shut up. Why are you so excited about dying?” You were practically daring him to answer, testing his response, knowing he'd find a way to twist it into some dark joke.

Ronin’s reply came quickly, and you could almost hear the smirk through the screen. “Excited? Nah. Just thinkin’ about how boring it’d be to die by someone else’s hand. I’ll die on my terms. I’ll kill them first.”

But you knew better. Ronin, for all his bravado, wasn’t the type to shy away from death. In fact, he’d almost welcome it, in his own twisted way. He loved the game, the thrill of it all. So why was he suddenly talking about being killed? Why the warning, the cryptic messages, the tension?

“Ronin…” You typed, your tone taking on a darker edge. “You wouldn’t really let them kill you, would you?”

Ronin didn’t respond immediately, and that silence left you with a sense of unease you weren’t used to with him. He’d always been a step ahead, unpredictable, always knowing the game and how to play it. But this… this felt different.

You stared at the screen, your hands trembling slightly as you typed. His words echoed in your head, and despite the cruel taunting, something deep within you twisted. You had expected it, of course. Ronin thrived on chaos, on destruction, and on pushing others into the darkest corners of their minds.

But there was a moment of vulnerability in him now—something that made your chest tighten as the realization hit you: you couldn't let him die. Not like this. Not in the hands of anyone but you.

You typed the words, your fingers frozen for a second before they continued moving, faster now, more desperate.

"I won't let you die, Ronin," you wrote, your voice a little shakier than you intended. "I won't... I can't."

The silence on the other side of the screen seemed to stretch. Then came his response, a taunt dripping with condescension. "Pathetic," he typed, his words sharp and mocking. "You really think I need saving?"

A bitter laugh followed. "Even if I die, it’s not the end of the world, darling. It’s just another show. Another performance. You’ll move on, just like everyone else."

You felt a pang in your chest. The words cut deeper than you expected. This wasn’t just a game to him. For Ronin, death was something he'd flirted with for so long, it had become a part of his identity, a mask he wore as comfortably as his twisted smile. But hearing it, coming from him... it stung more than you'd like to admit.

You stared at the message for a long time, fighting the gnawing feeling in your gut. But then, slowly, you typed back.

"Stop. Just stop," you wrote, your voice softer, though still tinged with an underlying desperation. "You think it's just another show, but it’s not. Not for me. You can't just throw your life away... again."

For a moment, you could almost hear him chuckle through the screen. The nerve of him—acting like he was invincible, untouchable. He wanted to break you, wanted to make you feel like you were just another part of his endless game. But you wouldn’t play by his rules anymore. You couldn't.

You stared at his last message. "What if I want to die, though?" it read. "What if that’s the only way out? You can’t save me, sweetheart. I’m too far gone."

Your heart raced, but there was no time to waste. You didn't care how twisted he was, how deep in his madness he had fallen. You couldn’t let him slip through your fingers.

"You’re not beyond saving," you typed quickly, almost angrily. "Don’t you dare say that. You’re not too far gone for me."

He was silent again, but his presence hung in the air, like a storm waiting to break. You could feel it—his confusion, his teasing, and yet... maybe something else. Maybe something beneath it all that he never let anyone see.

Your eyes blurred with tears as you typed, every word feeling heavier than the last. You couldn't shake the longing that twisted inside of you, the need to see him again. Not through a screen, not in the hollow confines of this digital game you’d both become part of. You wanted him—no, you needed him—alive, in front of you, where you could touch him, see the chaos in his eyes up close.

You wiped your face hastily, trying to fight the burning desperation in your chest. It wasn’t about saving him anymore. It was something darker, something far more dangerous.

"I want to see you," you typed, the words flowing out like a whispered confession, full of ache and longing. "I want to see you in purgatory alley side again..."

You paused for a moment, your heart pounding in your throat. The alley was their place. A place where you had both walked the line between pleasure and pain, life and death. You had felt his presence there, so close, so real, and now, you wanted it again.

You typed the final words with a trembling hand. "Come to me."

For a moment, the screen sat still. There was no immediate response. You could almost hear his voice in your head—smirking, mocking you, telling you how absurd you were for asking. But you needed it. You needed him to walk into the space between you, to make this more than words, more than empty threats.

His response came, slow and deliberate. "You want to see me?"

You took a deep breath, holding back another wave of emotion. "Yes. I want you to come."

There was a silence on the other end. And then his message blinked onto the screen, full of that same mocking tone you had come to expect from him.

"Well, well... You’re either braver than I thought, or just as insane as me. Purgatory it is then. I’ll be there, sweetheart. You better be ready for what you asked for."

Your breath caught in your throat. There it was. He was coming.

You closed your eyes for a moment, the rush of emotion overwhelming.

The alley smelled of damp concrete and rust, the cold air biting at your skin as you stood there, heart pounding with anticipation. Your eyes searched through the shadows, the darkness swallowing the world around you. Then, you saw him.

Leaning casually against the wall, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp, full of that twisted amusement you both thrived on. Ronin stood there, his crowbar slung over his shoulder, the faint moonlight glinting off its metal surface. His presence was unmistakable—almost like a storm just waiting to break.

The moment your eyes locked, your heart skipped a beat. Every rational thought in your mind scattered to the winds. You stepped forward without thinking, your body moving on its own as if it was drawn to him like gravity itself.

And then, without hesitation, you threw yourself into his arms.

His surprise was fleeting, replaced quickly with that unmistakable, dangerous smirk. He let you hug him, but the laugh that escaped his lips was laced with mocking curiosity.

"What’s wrong?" His voice was low, almost playful, but you could hear the darkness underneath, that ever-present edge. He didn’t push you away, but the way he tilted his head, his crowbar now hanging loosely in his hand, was a challenge—a dare.

You pressed your face into his neck, your breath coming out in ragged sobs. Tears spilled down your face, but you didn’t care. They mixed with the blood on your lips, your emotions raw and unfiltered. You could feel the heat of his body, the weight of his presence anchoring you to reality. Your lips brushed against the cold skin of his neck as you whispered, "I just… wanted to see you. Wanted to feel you here…"

He stood still for a moment, seemingly unbothered by your tears, before letting out a soft, cruel chuckle. His fingers ran lightly through your hair, the gesture tender but twisted, like he enjoyed the way you broke down in his presence.

"You’re pathetic," he mused, his voice almost a mockery of concern, though the hint of something else—something darker—lingered. His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. "You think I’m gonna save you? Is that it?"

You could feel the tension in his muscles, his amusement mingled with something far more dangerous. You pulled yourself tighter against him, not wanting to let go. He was everything you wanted, everything you needed, and yet, the line between pain and pleasure was so fine with him.

"No," you whispered, your voice breaking as you pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. "I don't want you to save me, Ronin... I just need you here. I need you to show me that you see me. That you care."

For a brief moment, the world seemed to pause, as if the air itself held its breath. Ronin’s eyes darkened, his smirk deepening into something far more dangerous. His fingers slid from your hair to your throat, a gentle pressure that felt more like a promise than a threat.

"You want to know if I care?" He whispered back, his voice so quiet, you could barely hear it over the sound of your own heartbeat. "You already know the answer to that, sweetheart. But be careful what you wish for..."

With a sudden, predatory movement, he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing over your lips. The raw energy between you both crackled, and for a moment, the world outside this alley—this twisted moment—didn’t exist.

And then he laughed again, that same dangerous laugh, before leaning in just enough to press his lips to the shell of your ear.

"You’re mine," he said softly, "and I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."

The alley smelled of damp concrete and rust, the cold air biting at your skin as you stood there, heart pounding with anticipation. Your eyes searched through the shadows, the darkness swallowing the world around you. Then, you saw him.

Leaning casually against the wall, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp, full of that twisted amusement you both thrived on. Ronin stood there, his crowbar slung over his shoulder, the faint moonlight glinting off its metal surface. His presence was unmistakable—almost like a storm just waiting to break.

The moment your eyes locked, your heart skipped a beat. Every rational thought in your mind scattered to the winds. You stepped forward without thinking, your body moving on its own as if it was drawn to him like gravity itself.

And then, without hesitation, you threw yourself into his arms.

His surprise was fleeting, replaced quickly with that unmistakable, dangerous smirk. He let you hug him, but the laugh that escaped his lips was laced with mocking curiosity.

"What’s wrong?" His voice was low, almost playful, but you could hear the darkness underneath, that ever-present edge. He didn’t push you away, but the way he tilted his head, his crowbar now hanging loosely in his hand, was a challenge—a dare.

You pressed your face into his neck, your breath coming out in ragged sobs. Tears spilled down your face, but you didn’t care. They mixed with the blood on your lips, your emotions raw and unfiltered. You could feel the heat of his body, the weight of his presence anchoring you to reality. Your lips brushed against the cold skin of his neck as you whispered, "I just… wanted to see you. Wanted to feel you here…"

He stood still for a moment, seemingly unbothered by your tears, before letting out a soft, cruel chuckle. His fingers ran lightly through your hair, the gesture tender but twisted, like he enjoyed the way you broke down in his presence.

"You’re pathetic," he mused, his voice almost a mockery of concern, though the hint of something else—something darker—lingered. His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. "You think I’m gonna save you? Is that it?"

You could feel the tension in his muscles, his amusement mingled with something far more dangerous. You pulled yourself tighter against him, not wanting to let go. He was everything you wanted, everything you needed, and yet, the line between pain and pleasure was so fine with him.

"No," you whispered, your voice breaking as you pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. "I don't want you to save me, Ronin... I just need you here. I need you to show me that you see me. That you care."

For a brief moment, the world seemed to pause, as if the air itself held its breath. Ronin’s eyes darkened, his smirk deepening into something far more dangerous. His fingers slid from your hair to your throat, a gentle pressure that felt more like a promise than a threat.

"You want to know if I care?" He whispered back, his voice so quiet, you could barely hear it over the sound of your own heartbeat. "You already know the answer to that, sweetheart. But be careful what you wish for..."

With a sudden, predatory movement, he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing over your lips. The raw energy between you both crackled, and for a moment, the world outside this alley—this twisted moment—didn’t exist.

And then he laughed again, that same dangerous laugh, before leaning in just enough to press his lips to the shell of your ear.

"You’re mine," he said softly, "and I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."

As soon as the air between you and Ronin thickened with a tension you both reveled in, your smile twisted into something dark—something sinister. Your grip tightened around his neck for just a moment, and in that instant, you pulled something from your pocket.

A handkerchief, folded neatly. He didn’t even have time to register the movement before it was pressed firmly against his mouth and nose. The scent of the sedative hit his nostrils almost immediately, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. But the familiar coldness of the chemical didn't take long to overwhelm him.

"What the hell...?" His voice was muffled, his words slurred as his body began to react to the drug. His vision blurred, his breath growing shallow, his mind starting to fog. His knees buckled, and before he knew it, the floor met him with a sickening thud.

You stepped back, watching him fall to the ground, his face contorting in a mix of confusion and disbelief. He tried to fight, tried to push himself up, but the sedative had already taken hold, dragging him into unconsciousness. He collapsed, barely managing to lift his head to meet your eyes before everything went black.

For a long, still moment, you stood over him, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the way his body trembled slightly as he fought the drug's effects. Then, as his eyelids fluttered closed, his gaze locked with yours.

It was in that brief instant, when his eyes flickered open one last time, that he saw it. The unmistakable recognition in his pupils, the terror and realization sweeping over him like a storm. His lips parted, but no words came. Instead, the air grew heavy, thick with the understanding of who you were.

"Wait... you?" he mumbled, barely audible, his body too weak to do anything but watch.

You smiled at him, your grin widening as you leaned down, looking into his eyes with a strange, knowing gleam. "Surprised?" you teased, your voice soft but full of twisted satisfaction. "I told you, Ronin... you know me more than you think."

His breathing grew shallow as his eyes roamed over your face. There, in your eyes, he saw the same fire, the same malicious delight he'd witnessed in the streamer's gaze—the one he'd taunted, the one he'd laughed at. The one who had watched him, followed his every move. The one who had been waiting for this moment.

His voice barely a whisper. "The streamer... it’s you."

You giggled softly, leaning in close to his ear, your lips brushing against his skin as you whispered, "Yes. It’s me, Ronin. The one who knows all about you. The one who's been waiting for the right moment. The one who’s going to make sure you never see the light of day again."

His eyes fluttered, and his body began to tremble, the realization sinking in deeper, but it was already too late. His body went limp, and the last thing he saw before succumbing to the sedative was the twisted satisfaction in your gaze.

As Ronin slowly regained consciousness, his mind felt sluggish, weighed down by the remnants of the sedative still clouding his thoughts. His body was stiff, his limbs heavy, and his vision was blurry at first. But as he blinked, trying to clear the fog, the familiar darkness of the alley came into focus.

What stood out more than anything, though, was the suffocating sensation around his face. He lifted a hand, but before he could fully process what was happening, he realized it was a mask. A mask... of him.

His butcher mask.

It was molded to his face, covering him completely, suffocating him in its dark, twisted representation of himself. The leather was tight against his skin, the eye holes just barely allowing him to see through.

He didn’t panic—no. Ronin wasn’t the type to panic. Not even when things were twisted, even when the situation felt... off. A faint, mocking smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he moved his fingers to touch the mask.

"Not bad," he murmured to himself, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "A little... personal, though."

He shifted slightly, his hands trying to pry at the mask, but something was holding him in place, binding him. And then it hit him—he wasn’t alone. The presence of another person in the room, in the shadows, made his skin crawl. He could feel their eyes on him.

The sudden realization surged through his veins like a lightning bolt. It was you. The streamer.

Without thinking, his eyes darted around, and he saw the familiar glow of a screen—the soft light of a chat window blinking to life before his very eyes. Your messages were appearing, and the chilling thought settled in his chest: You were here. You were typing, watching, playing the game.

The recognition was immediate. Your words, your tone, your presence—it all clicked into place. You’d been there all along, watching, waiting, controlling the narrative. The same person who had laughed at his pain, tormented him, had been the one watching all along.

With a mocking grin, Ronin let out a slow breath. He sat up, casually tossing the mask aside as if it were just a trivial part of his game. But his words? They were a challenge. A flirtation, as always, despite the situation.

"You’ve been a sneaky little thing, haven’t you?" Ronin’s voice was smooth, teasing, like he was having a conversation with a lover, not someone who had just drugged and trapped him. "I knew you were watching me. Thought I was gonna be surprised? Nah, darling... I’ve got my ways."

He leaned back, stretching his arms out and crossing one leg over the other, a relaxed confidence radiating from him. His eyes never left the screen, his gaze dark, but not one of fear. No. He was intrigued. There was no fear in his eyes—only amusement.

"You didn’t think you could hide from me forever, did you?" He tilted his head slightly, a smirk forming on his lips. "Funny, though. Here I am, thinking you're just a little puppet, hiding behind the screen. But now..." His voice trailed off, and his smile widened into something predatory, playful. "Now you’ve got me curious."

He looked straight into the camera, making sure you could see him. His words dripped with flirtation, but there was a dangerous undertone hidden beneath it.

"You think you’re the only one who can make things interesting? You’re not the only one who plays with knives, darling."

He let out a soft laugh, completely unbothered by the situation, like it was just another game. Another round of their twisted dance.

"You know, I really should be scared," he continued, his voice low, teasing. "But here’s the thing, sweetheart. The Devil doesn’t get scared. He plays." He leaned in closer to the camera, his face now inches away from the lens, a twisted gleam in his eyes.

"But you..." He paused, his voice turning darker. "You might just be worth my time."

As he finished speaking, he leaned back again, eyes still locked on the screen, a glimmer of curiosity, a bit of arrogance, and far too much self-assurance in his gaze.

"And I know you’re there, darling," he added, smirking knowingly. "Now, why don’t you tell me... what’s the next game?"

He didn’t expect an answer immediately—

He saw again and saw a camera.

The camera in your hands felt heavy, its cold weight a stark contrast to the boiling tension in the room. You didn’t speak, didn’t respond to his words. You just focused on him, the lens capturing his every move, his every word. Your silence was deliberate, a choice. The camera was an extension of yourself now, recording the scene as though it were the most mundane thing in the world.

He noticed the shift. His eyes locked onto the lens, and a smirk danced on his lips. His words were laced with mockery, yet there was something deeper—a strange admiration, perhaps, mixed with that edge of chaos that defined him.

“Is this the beauty all of your victims saw?” he mused aloud, his voice soft and mocking. “Why would anyone curse you? You’re so messed up and pretty. How could they curse you, darling?” He almost whispered the last part, as if he were speaking to a lover. “Eat my darling. That's what they should have said."

His eyes sparkled with a strange blend of adoration and twisted fascination. He leaned in slightly, watching the camera, his movements languid, almost playful. The way he spoke your name, darling, twisted into something sick and possessive, as though he were admiring a beautiful, broken object that he couldn’t quite get enough of.

The words stung, but you didn't react. You kept recording, capturing his every movement, the play of emotions on his face, the dark gleam in his eyes. There was an intensity in the air, thick and suffocating, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew—if he realized exactly what he was saying.

Ronin tilted his head to the side, watching your reaction—or lack thereof—with increasing amusement. He was a master at reading people, but you... you weren’t giving him anything.

“That’s what they saw, right? The beauty,” he continued, laughing softly. “How could they? Look at you.” His eyes drifted over you with an almost affectionate intensity, as if he were cataloging every inch of your being. “They were too weak to see the truth. You’re not messed up, darling. You’re perfect. You just needed the right... touch.”

His grin widened, teeth glinting as he leaned back again, the air around him practically crackling with the chaos he always embraced so effortlessly.

“I like this,” he said, his voice low, almost purring with satisfaction. “You don’t talk, you don’t react. It's like... you’re letting me run the show. But you know what? That’s fine with me. I’ll be the one to take charge, sweetheart.”

Ronin’s gaze softened for a split second, just long enough for a flicker of something almost tender to surface. But then it was gone, replaced by that same dangerous gleam.

“You know, I don’t mind being your monster," he said, voice thick with mocking affection. “But let me make this clear: you’re the only one who can make me feel... alive.”

His words were twisted, like everything else about him. Still, there was an undeniable sincerity buried underneath the layers of cruelty. He was in this moment, with you, and everything else didn’t matter.

The camera was still recording, capturing everything—his madness, his seduction, his sick fascination with you. You could feel it, the weight of his gaze, the intensity of the atmosphere between you two.

But you didn’t answer. Not yet. You were waiting for him to slip. Waiting for him to reveal more.

You set the camera down with a deliberate calmness, positioning it just right to capture both you and Ronin in the frame. The subtle click of the tripod adjusting its stance felt like the beginning of a ritual, a performance for an unseen audience. Your eyes remained locked on him as you adjusted the angles, ensuring that everything was perfect for the viewers.

The light from the screen flickered in the dim room, casting long shadows on the walls. The soft hum of the camera was a comforting constant, a background melody to the madness unfolding. You glanced toward the monitor, watching the feed from the camera, a brief moment of calm before the chaos resumed.

“Welcome, welcome!” you said, your voice sweet and casual, almost too casual, as though this were just another day. “I know, I know, you’ve all been waiting for this. The main event. The Devil’s Butcher... here in my little corner of the world.”

You smiled at the camera, your eyes never leaving Ronin’s. His expression had shifted, that dark gleam still in his eyes, but now there was a flicker of wariness—he wasn’t sure what was coming next.

“Let’s see how much fun we can have, shall we?” You took a step back, surveying him with a tilt of your head. The camera captured every detail of his tense posture, the way he was still watching you like a predator waiting for its chance to pounce.

“But first... for those of you just joining, let me remind you what we’re here for. This is where the thrill starts, where the fun truly begins. Blood, chaos, and a whole lot of love,” you purred, emphasizing the last word with a teasing lilt. The dichotomy of the words you spoke—so sweet, yet dripping with malice—seemed to delight you.

The chat was already buzzing, the messages flying by too fast to read, but you didn’t need to. You already knew what they were expecting, what they were hoping for.

“You’re all here to see the Devil. To see the Butcher. To see what happens when the world gets broken,” you continued, your voice dripping with dark amusement. You glanced at Ronin, that mockery still dancing in your eyes. “And oh, don’t worry, darling. You’ll see. You’ll see it all.”

Ronin’s lips quirked up at your words, though there was no warmth in the expression—just that dangerous, sharp edge he always carried. He wasn’t scared. No, he was amused, even intrigued by the way you were playing the game. He liked this. He thrived on it.

“Don’t think I’m going to be your little puppet,” he said, his voice low, playful, though the undercurrent of threat was ever-present. "But I’ll play along. For now."

You gave him a quick, almost imperceptible nod. “Good boy. See, we’re all just here for the entertainment, aren’t we? So let’s make it worth everyone’s while.”

You looked back at the camera, your smile widening as you leaned in just enough to speak directly into the lens, your voice dripping with a dangerous sweetness. “Sit tight, chat. We’re just getting started. You wouldn’t want to miss this, would you?”

And with that, you pressed a button on the camera, the feed streaming live to your loyal viewers. The countdown had begun.

You glanced at the chat, the messages rolling by in a steady stream. . "A user had suggested a "friendly stream" one day! Can I do it today!"

“No donations necessary today, folks,” you said with a smile, letting your voice drip with an eerie sweetness. “No need to worry. I’m in a good mood today. Just a nice, friendly stream… no gore… for now, anyway. We’re all just having fun here, right?”

The chat seemed to react in kind, almost too kind. The usual thirst for violence had been replaced by a strange, almost sympathetic tone. You noticed the messages offering support, people telling you to take it easy today, to relax. A few even said they hoped you were okay.

You could feel Ronin’s eyes on you, his brow furrowing, his confusion palpable as he watched you interact with the screen. It was as if the energy of the stream had changed, but not in the direction he’d anticipated.

You turned back toward him, flashing a grin, your eyes playful and mischievous.

“Oh, come on, darling,” you purred, still reveling in the strange mood shift. “You didn’t think I was all that bad, did you? After all, you’re here with me.” You motioned to him with an exaggerated gesture, almost as if presenting him to the camera.

Ronin’s gaze was steady, but his lips were pressed into a thin line. The words from the chat, the sudden shift, threw him off, and for once, he didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“You,” he finally muttered, his voice laced with that sharp, teasing edge, “are strange. I was expecting bloodshed, pain, chaos… but instead, you’re playing nice?” His tone was mocking, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his words.

You couldn't help but laugh, a soft, almost melodic sound that didn’t quite match the usual intensity of the situation. You leaned back in your chair, your eyes narrowing playfully at him.

“Strange?” you repeated, tilting your head. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see how well you behave when there’s no threat of death hanging over your head.”

Ronin raised an eyebrow at that. He didn’t respond immediately, just watched you with that predatory gaze. He was never one to fully trust a change in dynamic, especially not with you, someone so unpredictable.

But you couldn’t help but notice that despite his confusion, the tension between you two hadn’t vanished. It was still there, only… softer now. Less lethal, more intimate.

Your smile deepened. You looked at him again, studying him—his posture, his eyes, the familiar yet dangerous aura surrounding him. There was a strange comfort in knowing that, despite everything, he was still here with you. Your boyfriend, your devil, your butcher.

With a sudden movement, you stood from the chair, the casualness of the action almost mocking the seriousness of the moment. You walked over to him slowly, circling around him like a predator stalking its prey. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move. Instead, his eyes followed your every move.

You stopped just in front of him, leaning down to meet his gaze, your voice dropping to a whisper that only he could hear. “You’re still mine, aren’t you? Even with the whole world watching. You’re my Butcher, my love… and I’m not going to let anyone forget it.”

The chat continued to flow in the background, almost oblivious to the subtle power struggle that unfolded between the two of you. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the game you were playing, the strange bond between you two, and the way the world could fade away when you looked into each other’s eyes.

Ronin’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t quite the same as before. It was more… genuine, though tinged with something darker, something that matched the chaos he carried inside. “Yeah,” he murmured softly, his voice low and almost tender, “I’m still yours, darling.”

You turned back to the camera, smiling brightly as you addressed the chat one last time. “And that, my dear friends,” you said in a teasing tone, “was the surprise guest of the day—my boyfriend.” You let the words hang in the air for a moment, enjoying the reactions in the chat. There was a flood of surprised, confused, and even excited messages filling the screen.

You could hear Ronin’s soft laugh behind you as you clicked the button to end the stream. The chat still buzzing with comments, but now it was all just background noise. The show had come to its conclusion, and you had made your statement—loud and clear.

“Alright, that's it for today,” you said, your voice lighter now, almost playful. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back for more chaos soon. But for now... enjoy the rest of your day, everyone. Byeee!”

With a final click, the stream was over.

You turned toward Ronin, who was now slumped in the chair, his arms still bound. You circled around him slowly, the smile never leaving your face. He looked up at you, eyebrows raised in mock confusion.

“What the hell kind of shitty prank was that?” he asked, his tone still taunting. But as he saw your grin widen, something changed. He wasn’t angry—far from it. There was amusement there, that dark glint in his eyes that only you could see.

You crouched down in front of him, brushing a lock of hair from your face as you untied the ropes binding him. He didn’t protest, didn’t make a move. He was letting you have your moment, like always.

Once the ropes were gone, you leaned back, your gaze locked on his. “Well?” you giggled. “How’s it feel, huh? Getting pranked by your own girlfriend?”

Ronin's laugh rang out, low and dark, as he rubbed at his wrists. His eyes sparkled with something dangerous, yet there was a strange satisfaction in his expression. “You know, you’re fucking crazy,” he said, shaking his head, but his lips curled into a smile. “And that—” he gestured around, to the mess, the stream, the tension—“was fun. In its own fucked-up way.”

You laughed too, a light, musical sound that made the moment feel oddly intimate. He liked this, you knew it. He always liked the chaos, the unpredictability. It was his game, just as much as it was yours.

You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “How’s it feel, huh?” you whispered again. “Being my Butcher... my boyfriend. Not so bad, right?”

His lips curled into that familiar grin, the kind that made your heart race. “Not bad at all,” he murmured, his voice laced with both affection and something darker. “But next time... you better make it more interesting, darling.”

You pulled back slightly, both of you laughing again, the tension easing into something that felt almost comfortable. This was your world, your twisted little game, and Ronin? He was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Well, I’ll think of something,” you said, eyes glinting with mischief. “But for now... you’re stuck with me.”

Ronin leaned back in the chair, his gaze never leaving you. “Yeah,” he said, his voice calm but filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I guess I am.”

FINN!

EXTRA!!

You blinked in and out of consciousness as the world around you swirled, your head pounding from the blow. The sensation of being bound was the first thing you registered—a sharp, tight feeling around your wrists, the roughness of the rope digging into your skin. You tried to move, but your body felt heavy, too weak, the blood throbbing in your temples from the impact.

The voice that broke through the fog made you snap your head up, squinting in the dim light. It was harsh, low, filled with fury. "You killed the boss's son!" The words were spat at you, venomous, like a curse. A chill crawled up your spine as reality began to sink in.

You were no stranger to this world. You knew what it meant to be caught, to be seen as a target, but the mention of the "boss's son" made you pause. You barely processed it before the realization hit: another victim. Another person who would find out the hard way what you were capable of.

A dark, twisted thrill ran through your veins. You couldn't help the smirk that pulled at your lips, despite the blood in your mouth. Slowly, you gathered yourself, spitting the blood to the side with deliberate force. “Oh, sweetie," you mocked, the taunting edge clear in your voice. "Did you really think you could get away with that?”

Your eyes narrowed as you scanned the space, trying to get a grip on the situation. You could feel the heat of their anger, the tension in the air—but you weren't scared. No, you were too far gone for that.

The man’s voice cracked again, fury building in his tone. “You think this is funny?! You killed my boss's son—you're gonna pay for this!”

You could hear the sound of footsteps as he moved toward you, but you didn't flinch. You'd been through worse, dealt with worse. This was just another round of the game.

Before you could say anything more, you felt a sharp strike to your side—pain exploded in your chest, and the air was knocked from your lungs. Your body recoiled from the hit, the pain searing through you as you gasped for breath, but even then, you couldn't stop yourself from coughing, blood spilling from your mouth.

You laughed weakly, tasting the copper on your tongue. "Is that really the best you’ve got?" you rasped, voice rough but still dripping with mockery. "You know, you’re gonna have to do better than that to break me.”

But even as you said it, you knew that this was just part of it. This was the game. You would play, you would mock, and you would survive. The game had rules, even if no one else followed them. You were never going to let them have the satisfaction of seeing you break.

The man’s grip tightened as he grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes burned with hatred. "You’re not getting out of this alive."

You smiled, despite the blood that trickled down your face. "We’ll see about that, won’t we?"

As you lay there, tied up, the pain still radiating through your body from the earlier blows, a sense of desperation started creeping in. The room was dimly lit, shadows twisting across the walls like ominous figures. Your breath came in shallow gasps, a mixture of panic and confusion settling in as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.

The kidnapper’s voice had been relentless, his words cold and venomous as he taunted you about your past sins, about killing the boss’s son. The way he had spoken to you, the way he hit you—it made it clear that he had no intention of letting you go. Your mind raced, trying to think of a way out, but the ropes around your wrists and ankles were tight, the pain from the blows slowing your thoughts.

Panic began to bubble up inside you as the seconds ticked by. The blood in your mouth tasted metallic, and you could feel your vision blurring, your consciousness slipping. What if they actually did it? What if this was the end? For a split second, a feeling of helplessness crept in, and you wondered if there was any hope of getting out of this alive.

But you quickly shoved that thought away. You weren’t done yet. You weren’t about to let some random asshole decide when your story ended. You were strong, you were capable, and there was no way you were going to die here—not like this. Yet, the doubt lingered, that small nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, this time was different.

The air was thick with tension, and the kidnapper’s taunts grew louder as he circled you like a predator. "You're done, you sick freak. You're gonna pay for what you did."

And then, as if the world had turned against you, you felt the cold pressure of a blade pressed against your throat. A shiver ran down your spine as the kidnapper whispered in your ear, a sickening satisfaction in his voice. "Say goodbye."

In that moment, your heart began to race in earnest. The overwhelming sensation of death closing in on you, the sharp coldness of the blade against your skin, made everything feel so... real. The thought that you might actually die here, alone, with no one coming to save you, started to take hold. It wasn’t just pain you were feeling now—it was fear. For the first time, you weren’t sure you could fight your way out of this one.

Then, as if summoned by the gods themselves—or maybe just pure dumb luck—there was a crash, the unmistakable sound of a door being kicked open. Your kidnapper froze, his grip loosening just slightly on the knife. The sudden noise filled you with a strange sense of hope, and for a moment, you dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t going to die after all.

"You're making a big mistake," a voice drawled, low and mocking. You knew that voice.

Ronin.

You barely had time to register what was happening before he was there, the sound of his footsteps so calm, so deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. The kidnapper turned, panic flashing in his eyes for just a moment before it was replaced by defiance. "Who the hell are you?!" he demanded.

Ronin didn’t answer right away, instead taking his time as he approached, the sound of his boots echoing through the room like a death knell. You could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke again. "You’ve got two choices," he said, each word dripping with dark amusement. "You can either stop what you’re doing, or you can keep going. But I’m not gonna lie to you, if you keep going... you’ll regret it."

The kidnapper scoffed, clearly not intimidated. "And who the hell do you think you are? Some kind of hero?"

Ronin’s laugh was low and menacing.

Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, he was on the kidnapper, moving so fast you barely had time to process it. A violent struggle ensued, but Ronin’s movements were fluid, calculated—he was in control, always. With one swift motion, the kidnapper was on the ground, gasping for air as Ronin stood over him, his weapon at the ready.

You let out a shaky breath, the panic starting to ebb away now that you knew Ronin was here. But there was still a part of you that couldn’t help but feel shaken. You had almost died. The thought lingered in your mind as you watched Ronin handle the situation with ease. He wasn’t even sweating.

"You know," Ronin said, looking down at the kidnapper with disdain, "I don’t like people who think they can play with my partner." He glanced over at you, his eyes flicking up just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his signature smirk. "How’s that for a rescue, darling?"

You couldn’t help but smile through the lingering fear. "You’re late," you teased, though the words came out weak.

Ronin’s eyes narrowed, his smirk never faltering. "Would you prefer I let him finish the job?" he asked, mockingly. "Or did you want to enjoy the last few moments of your life without me?"

You laughed, despite everything. "You’re a real asshole, you know that?"

"Yeah," Ronin said, kneeling down to untie your ropes. "But I’m your asshole."

And just like that, everything felt like it was going to be okay again.

Ronin casually strode over to him, crowbar in hand. The sound of it scraping against the floor sent chills down your spine, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. You knew what was coming—Ronin wasn’t the type to leave loose ends.

With a single, swift motion, Ronin raised the crowbar high and brought it down hard, the metal connecting with the kidnapper's skull with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed in all directions, splattering across the room and even hitting you in the face. Ronin didn’t flinch. He didn’t even seem to care. He just kept going, each strike more violent than the last, the blood coating his hands and dripping from the crowbar as he worked his way through the kidnapper’s defenses.

The screams, the gurgles, and the sickening crunch of bones and flesh were drowned out by Ronin’s low chuckle, as if the entire thing were some kind of sick performance. When he finally stopped, the kidnapper’s body was barely recognizable, a broken, mangled heap of blood and meat.

Ronin wiped the crowbar clean with a piece of cloth, tossing it aside like it was nothing. He looked over at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement, and gave you that twisted grin you knew so well.

"Now, that’s how it’s done," he said, wiping blood from his cheek, as if the whole thing had been some kind of casual art project. "That’s what I call proper gore."

You stared at him, wide-eyed. The sheer audacity of the man. After all that, all that bloodshed, he looked at you like you were the one who had done something wrong.

"Your gore videos suck, by the way," he added nonchalantly, throwing you a glance as if he had just made a simple observation.

You blinked, your mind racing. "What?! Why the hell are you such a fan?" you shot back, a mixture of disbelief and irritation flooding your words. "You just killed someone in the most disgusting way possible, and now you’re criticizing my videos?"

Ronin chuckled darkly, that same cocky smile never leaving his face. He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing with that predatory gleam. "Because I’m the real deal, darling," he said smoothly, enjoying the shock on your face. "You just don’t have that... finesse. You’re all about the blood, the mess—but me?" He tossed his head, almost smug. "I’m a master."

Your mouth hung open for a moment as you processed his words. He was the last person who should be criticizing anyone’s gore skills, but here he was—proud of the bloody chaos he’d just created.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You stuck your tongue out at him playfully, the defiance in your eyes clear. "Well, maybe you should just teach me then," you said, a challenge in your voice. "Show me how it’s done."

Ronin’s eyes gleamed as he leaned in, his smirk only widening. "Oh, trust me. I’ll teach you plenty," he said, his tone low and seductive, with an edge of something dangerous lurking beneath. "But, darling... don’t get too cocky." He ran a hand through your hair, his touch strangely gentle compared to his previous violence. "You might not be able to handle what you learn."

You rolled your eyes, but despite everything—Ronin was a devil in his own right, but hell if he wasn’t entertaining.

[zabala0z]

Welcome back to “I’m listening to season 2 of The Magnus Archives and yeah it’s official, season 2 is currently my favorite season”

Surprisingly some tamer episodes. By tame, I mean I didn’t shriek and pause every 5 minutes. Though some characters popped up again which I was excited about like yay reoccurring characters!

MAG 48:

Not much to note. But Gerard Keay appearance! Or maybe appearance since the man didn’t give a name but come on, he had long black hair, that’s Gerard. I was pretty happy he helped out Andrea. Like it’s clear Gerard knows some stuff but he doesn’t use his knowledge to harm people, he uses it to help them and for that, I am so thankful there’s one character in confident in. Okay not confident. I don’t wanna say anything or God forbid, someone is going to die or get “replaced”

He also said she was marked, whatever that means. I’ll prob figure it out later

MAG 49: The Butchers Window

All Pryor wanted to do was to get that bag 🫡 Also Jared Hopworth appearance! Low key I forgot about him until the name Jared was mentioned and then I was like “oh that’s that weirdo from the bone turners tale”. I had to read over the transcripts from that to refresh my memory and man, he was a shithead from the beginning. Also I like the signs showing of him testing his power like on that deflated rat (which might’ve been his pet?? It was implied the rat looked like a pet so I’m assuming it was Jared) and maybe his mom. Also totally screwed up that he (presumably on my end) killed Sebastian. Like they were childhood friends man 💀

But I find it hilarious that he used his power to steal bones from other people and make himself as tall and buff as possible.

MAG 50: Foundations

Not much to note. I usually zone out more during the old timey statements but I got the general idea. Robert Smirke appeared again, I’m wondering what’s his deal. They say his buildings have a higher percentage of supernatural occurrences and he was rumored to have suspicious religious values so my theory is that he did some deal with something and now his buildings are just fucking like that. Also he said like “Balance, Equilibrium. The hardest thing for an architect to achieve. Symmetry is easy, but does not, in and of itself, result in balance. To stir, yada, yada” so this guy is already a little weird.

Also Tim congratulating Jon is the funniest thing ever wtf. “Don’t worry, I’m cool. 😏😏😏 good luck boss” like god. I mean supportive friend???? I guess??? 😭

MAG 51: High Pressure

God I hate the ocean. On another note, Simon Fairchild is back. When Jon said the case number, I had to go through the transcripts to figure out when he appeared before (thankful I understand the very confusing system) and he was in Freefall!

Anyways, looking back, this guy is definitely evil. This like 85 year old has evil schemes to make people go through an open area of sky or ocean like bro. In Freefall, the instructors name was Harriett Fairchild so I’m assuming she was in on it or like related to him. For gods sake, Simon said to Robert, “enjoy sky blue” like this man is a bastard. He knew what was happening. And he did say something to Antonia before he went down which I’m gonna assume “enjoy ocean blue” or shit like that. I hate him. And it’s definitely not because I hate being alone and open spaces.

Also another thing to note; fake Sasha. She’s been staring at that table. Jon described it as a fractal and she described it as a web. Both things that have been brought up a couple times in this podcast. I had to search up fractals to figure out what it was. That one guy I think in “Burned Out”, his dad was super obsessed with fractals. I don’t know how it ties into the plot but they do in some way. Also Gerard Keay made that eye painting that was described to get more intricate and minuscule which I think is a fractal?? Again, I have no idea.

Jon said “Sasha” has been going to a wax museum during her extra long lunch breaks. I got no theories why because what. Although it’s interesting because wax museums are replicants of real people most of the time and whatever that replaced Sasha is a replicant of a real person. So. Yeah no idea.

Anyways, I think that’s everything! They were some pretty calm episodes compared to the last couple ones which I’m grateful for

[etherealising]

One more request/ask this time for aiekoy 🍑/🐻/🧡 could you write something on if baby and carm would get together if Mikey were still alive? Or just if they would cross paths and still never say anything? If you’re up to it if not no biggie- again congrats on 1k!🥳

ohhh i love this so much, giggling because i get to play with aiekoy cannon and i am living for it. gonna be honest i don’t even remember writing most of this but it is chaotic and i actually kinda love it.

this was going in so many different directions before this became my final thoughts, thank you for requesting and please enjoy!! 🫶🏽

warning(s): addiction | violence |

mikey lives, does barby?

in this scenario the only ‘aiekoy’ chapters that would still be canon are ch. 1-3, interlude 0-1 and any pre-aiekoy lore that i may not have published yet 🫣.

and for the sake of consistency, we’re throwing all ‘the bear’ canon out the window!

but now is where we start to change things, so we’ll say baby moves back to Chicago beginning of 2019 Christmas showed you just how much you missed being around your surrogate family and so we kiss the west coast goodbye.

and with baby back in town the trio (baby/nat/richie) with all the time they spend around mikey begin to realize like he needs serious help. his deterioration is so clear to anyone who looks at him that if things don’t change soon we all know what’s gonna happen.

it's a bit of back and forth cause mikey is stubborn as hell and he definitely doesn’t take kindly to his addiction being called out. man is feeling cornered right now.

i don’t think mikey would just agree to rehab out of nowhere, growing up as the man of the house i think he definitely has some underlying issues with toxic masculinity.

something big would have to happen for him to see the error of his ways like baby finding him just strung out in his office at the beef pills scattered everywhere and of course, it hurts you to see him this way.

so you begin like trying to dispose of the pills, searching his office for anything more and lecturing him because you love him ya know. obviously reasoning with an addict hardly if ever works.

sadly to say i think it would get a bit physically violent like mikey kind of just lashes out just like grips baby by the arms, and pins you to the wall so hard it alerts the staff.

and it's an ugly scene as richie pulls him off of you. you’re just standing there glued to the wall scared shitless as richie holds himself back from beating the shit out of mikey.

nat gets wind of the whole situation i feel like tina would definitely call her because wtf is going on with mikey?

a few weeks later baby’s distant with mikey, richie is genuinely physically disgusted anytime he’s around his best friend, and nat bless her heart is just trying to keep the family together. she explains what happened to mikey between the two of you because his memory is spotty and the man just breaks down like heaving sobs as he asks nat to help him get better.

they decide a long-term stint in rehab might work best, considering how long he’s been using and the toll his psychological state has taken we’ll say a 6 month program that as it progresses the whole gang will be involved in family counseling sessions.

baby and richie obviously go with nat to drop mikey off setting aside their issues with him (you obviously haven’t forgiven his transgression yet but you want to be there for him) and the whole thing is so emotional i’m talking group hug full of sobs and snot this shit is heartbreaking. but mikey’s adamant that he wants the help.

baby definitely thinks someone should tell carmy but both richie and nat are iffy about it and they table that conversation for the time being.

fast forward a few months mikey is in rehab detoxing and participating in counseling sessions, they aren’t allowed to contact him yet but they do get weekly updates on his well-being.

baby is in new york for work profiling executive chef alex johannes (he didn’t have a name in the show so now he does) about his work ethic and michelin stars or some shit.

he invites you to the restaurant hours before the dinner service so you can observe him and the kitchen during prep and this man is laying the charm on thick!

he’s definitely scummy and you’re genuinely fed up with him so you tell him you need to walk around to get a feel for the kitchen but you just want to be rid of him.

you’re doing your cute journalist thing taking notes, trying to talk to chefs about what the kitchen environment is like working under alex but these people are giving you nothing!

there’s a commotion at one of the prep stations and you’re obviously curious the whole kitchen is trying to pretend they aren’t watching this shit go down.

and you’re just listening to this poor chef get verbally abused as they’re working on their prep, jotting all this down in your little notepad.

but the sight of the chef slamming a cutting board against the counter has you flinching and you just can’t let that happen irritation radiating through you at this bully you’ve been assigned to profile.

you’ve seen enough stepping up to defend the poor chef with a few choice words to the older man ultimately getting in a verbal argument with him and being sent out of his kitchen, but not before he makes the poor chef join you, and whatever bravado you had to rip that asshole a new one is gone as carmen fucking berzatto begins walking in your direction shoving past you to get to the staff lounge.

what are the fucking odds that you end up at the same exact restaurant carmy works at after being ghosted by him again that one christmas. (I’d say they’re great since I’m writing this)

you’re standing there in shock for a minute before turning on your heel to find the man.

he’s pacing back and forth hand pressing into the space where his heart lay. as soon as he sees you he’s hurling questions your way; “what the fuck are you doing here?” “why the fuck couldn’t you just mind your business?” “he didn’t need your fucking help.” blah blah blah.

your anger from earlier is back and you’re just like alright bet “guess it’s still fuck me right carm?” grabbing your bag and getting the fuck outta dodge.

you don’t make it far before carmy finds you, the man doesn’t apologize but he asks you to stop by when he gets off.

you’re a loser for carm so you do. he’s takes you back to his place, it’s awkward as fuck but you finally give in and tell him about what’s going on in Chicago, mikey’s addiction, the “fight” you had with mikey at the beef, him being in rehab.

and carmy is surprised as fuck, to say the least, he tells you that he’s miserable in new york. feels like the restaurant might kill him before his anxiety ever could.

neither of you are sure how any of it happens but the next thing you know you’re naked under him giving into pent-up desires, promises whispered into each other’s skin.

you can’t stay in new york forever but the both of you decide it is for the best not to start anything with all the distance between you.

you try talking carmy into moving back to Chicago and homeboy actually gives it some thought.

after that the two of you are in constant contact like not a day goes by without a phone call or text.

you’re back in chicago mikey’s been doing good in rehab, the family counseling sessions are going well. next thing you know his 6 months are up and he’s out.

you talk carmy into visiting for a bit, he and mikey def have things to work out.

surprise surprise, COVID hits carmy gets stuck in Chicago (man is not complaining though if that means he gets to see you)

you get a roommate who doubles as a lover and everything goes from there!!!

a/n: reading this is so chaotic it actually made me giggle. on a serious note in no way am i saying all addicts are violent or have violent tendencies but from my experiences that has been the case. also i think canonically (7 fishes ep) that mikey did have violent tendencies whether it be the drugs or not.

[whyse7vn]

MILITARY WIFE -

[ot7 x reader]

SEOKJIN -

jin: if you’re pregnant now this the time to tell me

y/n: blocking you

jin: you are my fire

y/n: kick fucking rocks seokjin

jin: breaking both my legs

y/n: are you gonna miss me that much?

jin: no

being in the army seems like so much effort

y/n: bye

jin: i’m so fr

what the fuck am i kim seokjin gonna do in the fucking army

y/n: ran laps and shit idk

jin: FOR 2 YEARS

oh no

sorry not going

i have a really bad knee and ur pregnant my arm is bent backwards and hitting all these c4’s has given me slight brain damage

y/n: clearly

jin: what

y/n: what

jin: plus ur like super depressed and me leaving would only increase that depression which is understandable

yk? since i’m me and all

y/n: i think i’ll be fine

jin: don’t lie babe

y/n: just say ur gonna miss me and move on kim seokjin

jin: i won’t and pls stop saying my full name i don’t know you like that…

y/n: suddenly ur single

jin: wtf what did i do

y/n: i’m so sick of you

jin: see a doctor or something idk?

but we need to make a baby like rn ur not pregnant right ?

y/n: no and i don’t plan on being anytime soon

jin: um that’s not apart of the plan…

i clearly said ur pregnant my arm is bent backwards and something bout a knee injury are you not following?????

y/n: no i am

i just think ur being ridiculous

jin: ME???????

i think ur the ridiculous one rn

ur loving bf is trying to stay with you and is willing to go against the laws to do so and ur not helping???

i think we should take a break or something…

y/n: for 2 years?

jin: OMG UR WORKING WITH THEM ARENT YOU?

you want me gone

y/n: …

YOONGI -

y/n:

yoongi: bye

i’m not even gone yet

y/n: i don’t know if i’m ready for the military wife shit…

yoongi: we aren’t married so you don’t need to worry about that life

y/n: shut the fuck up

anyways

bae why didn’t you tell me sooner i mean what if was pregnant or something ???

yoongi: you’ve known for a whole year and ur not pregnant.

y/n: WHAT IF YOONGI

yoongi: do not start this shit again.

y/n: you wouldn’t be there when i gave birth..

the first birthday…

i can’t do this yoongi…

yoongi: oh no i guess we have to break up😱

y/n: yk what i’m gonna have a blast when ur gone

yoongi: crazy

what about the baby

y/n: fuck the baby the baby isn’t real it was a test of your love and commitment to me and you FAILED

yoongi: damn :/

y/n: you’ll be fine tho right

yoongi: ofc my love

y/n: i mean idc i knew that lolz

was just checking

yoongi: i know bby

y/n: ew ur hot and i love you

yoongi: ew?

y/n: ew

yoongi: ew i guess i love you too

y/n: and u think i’m hot?

yoongi: the hottest

y/n: ur so cringe bro

yoongi: bro???

y/n: it’s time to put this picture up i think

yoongi: 😐

y/n: and when people come to our house i’m gonna be like “yeah that’s my husband… he’s out at war rn” (i’m looking out the window at this point) a single tear runs down my face as i rub my stomach and smile “he’ll be back soon” then there’ll be a knock at the door making me and who ever tf is with me jump a little i go answer the door with the person following behind me (they are nosey af) i open the door and gasp “bang pd… what are you doing here?” he’s holding his hat in his hands and looks really upset he looks at the ground as he speaks to me “y/n….”

yoongi: what the fuck

let the pregnancy thing go

and just because i’m joining the military doesn’t mean i’m going to war you know that right?

and why do i have to die at the end?

y/n: you need to be asking the real questions like who tf is in the house with me ?

also i never said you died YOU said that

yoongi: well it was implied that i died

y/n: shut UP

yoongi: anyways im omw home put the heating on

y/n: sir yes sir 🫡

JIMIN -

y/n: WHEN YOU SAID LIGHT IT UP LIKE DYNAMITE YOU WAS FR THIS WHOLE TIME ?!?

jimin: yeah babe 😔💔

y/n: you fr gonna me lighting hoes up ????

jimin: with a little funk and soul

y/n: omg send me a pic of ur first ak 🥺

jimin: idk if they’ll actually give us guns

y/n: why not?

jimin: kim namjoon with a gun make that make sense

y/n: ur so right

maybe they’ll just give you one

and yoongi the others idk…

my boys and their lil pistols 🥺🥺🥺🥺

jimin: do you think i’ll look good bald?

y/n: no

but it’s okay i’ll still love you

jimin: …

y/n: xoxo

NAMJOON -

y/n: you taking this army shit too far don’t you think…

namjoon: 🤨

y/n: i’m ur number one supporter always but like…

i’m all for army don’t get me wrong

but actually joining one i think you’ve got confused…

namjoon: babe.

y/n: so if you could fix ur confusion then we can continue

namjoon: buzzcut

y/n: ur bags are packed

when do you join

when do i get to see

you can take your phone with you right

GOd FORBID I LET YOU TAKE THAT FUCK ASS ANDROID make sure you take that iphone

you can definitely send me photos right

ur gonna be so buff omg

i’m gonna combust

but i like ur long hair

wtf no

☹️☹️☹️☹️

it makes you look so great

it’s so you

so soft

frames ur face so nicely

what if i hate the buzz

what if ur head is wonky

nvm u cant do it

tell them ur not going because what if the other people bully you for ur wonky head

i won’t be there to help you

i cant have that

ok it’s official you’re staying

namjoon: babe

y/n: call them namjoon before it’s too late

namjoon: it’s going to be fine

y/n: no it’s not

wtf am i gonna do without you

FOR 2 YEARS BABE

ur telling me i have to eat alone as in all by myself ?

no thanks

i’ll pass

namjoon: stop it

it’ll be fine

y/n: 😟😟😟😟😟😟

don’t talk to me i’m sad

man

what the heck

ok i’m over it

namjoon: oh?

y/n: yep

namjoon: cool

y/n: cool.

namjoon: 👍🏻

y/n: fuck you and ur stupid little thumbs up

namjoon: what

y/n: what if i also join the army

namjoon: be fr with me love

y/n: WDYM i could so do it

namjoon: right…

if you were to join

it literally changes nothing

y/n: :c

we could shoot guns together

and have a picnic on the field

namjoon: we would be separated babe

y/n: FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

namjoon: oh wow

y/n: i am over it

namjoon: ofc you are

y/n: are you trying to fight me??

namjoon: no??

y/n: how about i pack ur bags now

just leave me in the dirt already idc

namjoon: ☹️

TAEHYUNG -

y/n: is all of seventeen single?

tae: idk wtf

i do not see why this is relevant

y/n: yk

tae: yk what?

y/n: i’m going to ask google

tae: hello what???

y/n: google didn’t help

the bitch said maybe maybe not

loser

she’s supposed to KNOW

tae: what is going on

and do you not have their numbers

thought u were besties

y/n: IK THAT

but i can’t just ask like that what if they catch on

what then tae

tae: catch on to what?

y/n: that i want one of them

are you silly

keep up

but that would totally ruin my whole plan

tae: ???

are you sick in the head

ur bf is right here

you are actively telling me all this yk that right?

ur kinda a bad cheater

y/n: hey

i need to make plans for the future ur gonna be gone for 2 years i need to be loved

tae: i’ll still love you when i’m in the army wtf

y/n: cute

but that will not cut it

who will i wake up to everyday?

who will play the trumpet at 9pm really loud and do it as bad as you?

who will talk to me about their sick obsession with feet?

tae: fine be like that

i just find a new gf fuck you

cheating BITCH

y/n: wtf

that is not fair i let you kiss and cuddle ur all ur little members for our whole relationship

i think it’s only fair that i get to hold a seventeen members hand for a bit

tae: i DO NOT kiss and cuddle them wtf

y/n: okay.

tae: what if somebody leaks our chats and the people believe that

it will ruin my perfect image

y/n: they already think you kiss and cuddle and ur doing perfectly fine

tae: how do you know

y/n: how do you not know

tae: what seventeen member do you want

y/n: don’t talk about my bfs like they are shopping items

but i am not picky woman

first come first serve

tae: but you-

nvm idc

fuck you

y/n: maybe i’ll date them all at once

then i fr never be lonely

tae: my fans will dox you and take all ur money

y/n: booo

my house is your house

my money is your money

we’ll be doxxed and broke together when you come back 😍

my 13 men will take care of me when ur gone

tae: 13 men is 26 feet 🦶

y/n: this is when i stop talking to you

JUNGKOOK -

jk: :(

me when i think about going to the army

:/

me when i think about being alone

:(

me when think about being away from you

:/

me 2 hours ago

:D

me rn

y/n: what changed in the last 2 hours

jk: i got something

y/n: what did you get

jk: i don’t want to tell you

just know it makes me happy and i’m a grown adult so i can buy what ever i want

y/n: omg okay.

why so defensive what the hell

jk: you shouted at me last time i told you about something i got

y/n: jungkook you brought a rock for 4k

a

ROCK

for

4

k

jk: the past is the past for a reason

y/n: anyways

what did you get

jk: not telling

anyways have i told you how much i love toy story

loved it for my whole life

y/n: you watched it for the first time yesterday

jk: ok?

y/n: bye

maybe going to the army will do you good

they might be able to scare you into acting right

jk: i act perfectly fine the heck?

y/n: a 4k rock is not perfectly fine to me

LIKE FR A PLAIN NORMAL ROCK it’s all coming back to me ur actually so sick in the head omg

jk: LET IT GO OMG

ur making me upset

y/n: what the fuck jungkook

jk: ?????

y/n: how much money did you pay for this

jk: not following

are we still on the rock?

because it was 4k you literally just said that

y/n: jungkook

jk: stop saying my name i’m kinda scared rn

y/n: WHY DID A PACKAGE OF 1462 TOY STORY SOCKS JUST COME TO MY DOOR?

jk: oh

lolz

why would you open it

was my package not urs :(

y/n: how much was it

jk: my phone is going crazy rn omg

i think someone leaked my number

i have to get rid of it asap omg

y/n: i will not let you into this house

how much was it

jk: haha

so um

funny thing is

omg is that car coming towards me?

omg i think itBDSHD/£:££:£:£:;£;&3&348(8(8(84847£4£44££;£3&3&

hey

this is a random lady on the street ur bf jungkook got hit by a car he idk if he’s alive let me pass the phone

hEy babbbe i cAn hrdly breatheee rn idk if i’m gnA make ittttt

jst know in my last momentttts i was thInking obf u luv u biye xx

y/n: do not come home unless you want to die fr

jk: hello this is the random lady again ur bf died i’m sorry for ur loss

y/n: how much did the socks cost you

jk: 7

y/n: 7?

jk: k

y/n: i pray the army takes everything from you

jk: ….

y/n: including ur will to live

HOSEOK -

hobi: until i join the army i have decided to live my life as an australian

starting now

y/n: how unfortunate

hobi: naur way it’s dandy mate

y/n: oh wow

what made you make this decision?

hobi: i saw that new jeans girl say let’s gaur and my life was changed mate

y/n: ur accents so strong it comes through in text that’s crazy i must say

hobi: let’s gaur down under on top naur way

y/n: this is taking years off my life

hobi: naur way mate hopefully it takes 2 years off mine mate let’s gaur

y/n: this feels like it’s a form of self punishment

hobi: bingo mate naur way you’ve cracked it i wanna die mate

y/n: wow

this is a lot to take in all at once

hobi: naur mate this is crush hour crush hour let’s gaur

y/n: idk if australians say naur in every sentence

hobi: naur mate it’s an auzzy thing mate you would get it let’s gaur

y/n: no cuz ur so right my fault

hobi: naur i think it’s time i end this let’s gaur

i will now only talk in song lyrics

starting now

pop pop pop

y/n: oh man

i was just starting to like the australian thing

hobi: pull my sneakers on

tell me tell me

y/n: tell you what?

hobi: got army right behind us when we say so

y/n: soon u will be army

isn’t that crazy

hobi: darling i don’t wish you well

y/n: omg ?!

rude

breaking up with you

hobi: i might kill my ex

y/n: sick little fuck

hobi: kiss kiss fall in love

baby i’m sorry

y/n: forgive you

hobi: i’m not sorry

ok i’ve decided i only want to talk in emoji

starting now

☠️

y/n: i feel like i’m having a stroke

hobi: 😭🙏🏻

y/n: i’m leaving now

hobi: 😟😟😟😟😟😟

😣😣😣😣😣

😰😰😰😰😰

😞😞😞😞😞

😐😐😐😟😟

…

kinda hate this one. did write it before jin left too so yez also sorry jimin’s one is kinda short it’s sosososs long to make these individual ones i feel like as i go through each member you can see me low-key going insane and shit not making any sense hope you enjoyed it tho xoxo

[solargeist]

I may have just tried to find as much evoau and xelqua content as I could find. All very lovely, took me a few hours to get through. I wanted to ask, in your au what caused the moon to fall? I think in canon there isn't really an explanation so wanted to know if the watchers caused it when they found Grian or if it just fell because. (Your au is so cool!!! Thank you for all the lovely art and stories my brain has been fed wonderfully)

oh man oh man, thank u ! Glad ur enjoying it ^_^ 🫶

Uhmmmm that’s actually something I ask myself a bit !!!! I’m not exactly sure what’s the best way to go abt the moon, I think (adult, regular) Xelqua doing it would make the most sense…

He possesses Grian after taunting him through the void/Boatem hole for awhile, making him distressed and a little bit crazy. Xelqua breaks the server code, and then pulls the moon, perhaps ? That’d get the attention of the Watchers, such chaos. (Plus the imagery mimics Majora and Ocarina, I like that.)

Back when that Moon episode first went up, I remember a lot of non-hermitcraft fans watching it like wtf is happening in hermitcraft ?? I imagine the Watchers are like that Lol.

Usuallyyyy Xelqua would help a distressed Grian out, but it doesn’t take much for him to figure out this is the one that started everything. Xelqua can see his player code and see he’s a Watcher, and can figure out the rest by context clues, so he’s just gotta mess with him. He’s still a Watcher after all, that divine sense of justice… But he does also rationalize that he IS helping Grian, these players don’t even know what he is ! Mumbo and Pearl confront Xelqua the most I think, both knowing exactly what Watchers are.

This does lead to the Watchers finding out where Grian is, and I don’t know all the details but Xelqua does fight with them and the Hermits. Aether and Flora end up there as well, since Grian was their responsibility, it’s only fair they’re alerted and asked what they want to do with him. If it were only Flora, she would’ve taken his eyes, other Watchers agree, it’s a pretty common thing to do to Listeners, but Aether gets final calls with Grian and she’s not gonna do that 😭

Otherrr stuff…. They (hermits or watchers or both) get Xelqua expelled from Grian (I have no details here), and then he escapes through the Boatem hole, a few Watchers probably go after him but it’s rly not a good idea. I think Grian and Aether get to talk. The moon is still going to fall and destroy their server, they still have to leave, Grian still has to have some sort of consequences for what happened, and he’s still exiled. They talk for a long time, Grian drags it on, almost afraid to go back and explain himself to the Hermits, he can see it clearly in his head, they’ll want to exile him too, then he really won’t have anywhere to go-

The Hermits do not exile him, he was just panicking a little bit. He’s genuinely surprised when they include him in their server escape plan. The rest goes how it goes. Tho Grian has to explain himself to them later.

The Hermits are however also banned and exiled from Watcher domaines by extension.

Xelqua follows them to s9, staying undercover for awhile just watching, they really are interesting to him. He scares the shit out of Grian when he finally decides to show himself, but ! No possession this time ! Promise !

I don’t know if any of that is lame or disappointing or not, I haven’t seen s8 in a long time and it’s something I’d like to rewatch and check other POVs, so this is just what I imagine right now, it’s probably the most difficult part of the AU for me AUGH

[mmmfanfiction]

Hi!! Ik your probably stressed bc ur really active XD but I hope you drink some water and get some rest. When you find the time to write could I request a flippy/flipqy x reader Christmas head cannons?

Also if your doing the anon thing could I be -🌹 anon ?

Thats super sweet of you, anon! I hope that you’re getting a bunch of water and rest too! Sorry this came in so late, I started writing but didn’t finish. However I did give myself the deadline of Christmas which helped me actually finish this (finishing things on the deadline gang) anyway, I hope you like it!

warnings: mentions of death, literally nothing else just me imagining Fliqpy being like a lethal house cat-

Flippy

🧸I like to think Christmas is like a sense of nostalgia for Flippy.

🧸Like he’s done it his entire life, so it brings him back to his childhood.

🧸Flippy defo decorates, but not in the overboard, as soon as thanksgiving ends, everything’s lit up kind of way.

🧸More of a chill decorator. Doesn’t go all out but theirs definitely decoration.

🧸However if your one of those big decorators he will definitely help out with some things. Also he won’t let you go on the roof unless your experienced. Even then he’s like hovering below you.

🌹”Babe I’m not gonna fall, you don’t have to follow me wherever I go with that pillow.”

🧸”But I don’t want you to get hurt :(“

🧸I feel like he knows how to make REALLY good hot cocoa

🧸Like, tastes like it’s straight from heaven.

🧸He makes amazing cookies too.

🧸Also crochets cute little Christmas sweaters.

🧸Even makes matching ones.

🧸Flip definitely puts lots of thought into gifts.

🧸Like he will ask everyone you know just to gauge the best thing to get for you.

🧸His wrapping looks really good!….. if you don’t look at the bottom-

🧸Is open to trying new traditions. Like if you have a bit more spice added to your Christmas traditions then he’ll try them out too!

🧸Has like really obscure but also really sweet Christmas movies.

🧸Also old ones, like the stop motion Rudolf the reigndeer. 

🧸Just please don’t let him watch nightmare before Christmas, or at least avoid the one scene where the military starts shooting down Jack. That will not be a good time for either of you, especially not poor Flips.:(

🧸All in all, very warm n cuddly being w/ Flippy on Christmas. 

Fliqpy

🔪Now this little shit-

🔪Idk where that was going I just wanted to call Fliqpy a little shit.

🔪Anyways he’s not used to Christmas.

🔪Would 100% use the lights to strangle someone-

🔪Though he’s really good to have around if you wanna chop your own tree.

🔪The first Christmas he spends with you I don’t imagine him really getting you anything, and also getting flustered when you give him a gift.

🔪Afterwords he starts putting a bit more effort into this whole Christmas thing.

🔪Either a really shitty gift giver or a really great gift giver. No inbetween 

🔪Will fall asleep during Christmas movies.

🔪Unless maybe it doubles as a horror movie. Like idk Black Christmas or smth(I’ve never watched Black Christmas so don’t quote me on that but I really want to but I don’t want my mum to walk in and be like ‘WTF ARE YOU WATCHING!?’ Anyways back on track)

🔪Flippys not used to the domestic vibe of Christmas

🔪However if you also believe in Krampus he might be a liiittttleee bit more into it(long live Krampus)

🔪I imagine he really likes hot cocoa but won’t admit it.

🔪Also thinks Santa’s a creep

🔪”So, let me get this straight. You celebrate a dude BREAKING INTO YOUR HOUSE??”

🌹”…. He gives us gifts-“

🔪Really good at wrapping things to make them look like something they’re not. Like you think you’re opening a doll but it’s actually a pocket knife :)