#im so fanfic core now!!!

[luckylarvae]

RED GIANT, CHAPTER ONE

Heya, so this is an ISAT loop fanfic I’ve been thinking about writing for a while, called “Red Giant”. Heavy spoiler warning for In Stars and Time by the way as well as SASASA. For context this story takes place at the end of SASASA. This is my first time really writing in literature format, and my first fanfic thing as a whole, so it's going to be really rough at first but I hope as this progresses I get to improve. Hope this is at least mildly entertaining! Let’s just see how this goes, and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

“This is our chance! Our chance to end everything once and for all!!” 

  Mirabelle stands in front of the king, mid battle and looks back at you. Finally something changed, something changed!!! You move out of the way as fast as you can, as Mirabelle powers you up. After all these constant, never changing loops you can finally be free, finally escape this eternal purgatory you’ve found yourself in and finally end everything! After having to suffer through this hell, of playing an actor who dies onstage over and over and over again, there's finally an end in sight, just, one, more, attack!!  You raise your arm up, you summon all the craft energy you have, every single little bit of strength you have, and throw it at the king, and a bright flash of white completely overwhelmes the room. 

When you open your eyes, the room is no longer surrounded by stands of hair, no longer dark with the presence of the king. It is white, clean, empty. Your party and you stand in shock for a moment. Did you really do it? After all this time?

“Did… did we do it?”

“...He’s gone.. We did it?”

“Sif, we did it! He’s gone! The King is gone!!! Hahahaha!!!”

Isabeau and the others smile at you. Isabeau, your friend, your comedy partner… your

“But…”

Before you can say something, Bonnie blurts and and shouts

“Holy CRAB THAT WAS SCARY!!! WE DID IT? WE DID IT!!!!”

The little sibling of the group, the one who kept you all going…

Odile perks up and says “Haha… hahahahahaha!!! Oh, it was close for a second there!!!!”

The women who understands you the best, observant to a fault

“Oh, Oh, what a relief…!”

The Savior of Vaugarde, the reason you are all here…

“Sif, Sif, Siffrin!!!” It’s over! We won!!!”

“... We won…?”

The fighter, no no Isabeau continues to beam “We won, Sif!!!!! The country’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay now!!!”

We, won?

We, WON???????

You won, you won you won you won you won!!!! Tears start to well up from your eyes and you you wipe them away.

Mirabelle looks at you and says “Oh Siffrin… It’ll be okay Siffrin. We prevailed. We’ll all be able to go back home!”

Isabeau looks at Mirabeele and responds: “I can’t wait to tell my old job friends that I’ve helped save the country!”

Bonnie jumps and says “I gotta go back home and see if my sister’s okay!!”

Odile sighs “Finally, I’ll be able to go back to my research.”

It’s over, it’s finally over. Finally, the adventure is over. Mirabelle can go back to her house of change, finally Bonnie can reunite with their sister, finally Isabeau can pursue his dreams of being a fashion designer, finally Odile can continue her research. Finally, you can go… home? You can go… home. 

Home

You start to taste sugar on your tongue

Mirabells puts her hands together in gratitude “ See Siffrin? We’ll all be fine now. There’s nothing to worry about anymo–”

You vision shakes for a bit. You can feel your heart being tugged. No, no, nononono NO!!! NOT NOW!

You feel and your entire being gets thrusted back. You see you and your party rapidly repeat the actions you had just done. You see yourself launching your craft energy at the king, your friends look at you as you get the key, first try, You see yourself, walking into the castle, and then-

You find yourself with your vision black, body… sprawled out? You wake up, in the middle of a field. The shades of the grass in an almost circular pattern, with trees shaped the same. You feel the wind pass by over you, something you have not felt in a long, long time.

A familiar voice cries out to you 

“Ah, Siffrin!!! Huh? Siffrin, were you… were you… TAKING A NAP????!???!”

“I.. I supposed thats… Yes you’re right! I should follow your lead on this one! We’d better get some sleep while we can! Since tomorrow…”

Your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest, fear and terror gripping every single muscle of your body.

“We’ll have to fight against the king!”

…

You fall into a haze.

You had done it

Everything was perfect

YOU HAD DONE IT

You defeated the king, you cried in front of your friends, YOU SAVED VAUGARDE-

But it wasn’t enough

It was never enough was it?

You were never supposed to get out

You are forever trapped in, in a hell of your making.

With these puppets

With you, as the eternal actor

You can’t take it anymore.

Pain throbs through your body, it almost feels as your guts are spilling out, something you’ve felt countless times at the hands of the king

But you only find yourself crying instead.

You don’t want to do this anymore, no more loops, PLEASE FOR WHATEVER GOD YOU’VE FORGOTTON’S SAKE, FOR THE UNIVERSE’S SAKE YOU CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!

You give up.

 And just lie there.

 Mirabelle leaves you behind.

 Time pases.

 It is the next day. They try to get you to move, their fake fingers and ther fake pleads and their FAKE tears.

 They leave you alone, and go to die in the fight against the king.

You feel nothing.

A few loops go by

No more, no more no more no morenomorenomore

At the start of the new loop, you look at the wish tree. This damn tree. You plead in front of it. You don’t care anymore, you don't care for this superficial life with these superficial friends. You plead, crying, god, not anymore!! 

LET IT BE OVER, LET ME OUT!! PLEASE, UNIVERSE, SAVE ME, HELP ME!!!! Someone… Anyone, help me!!! PLEASE!!!!!!

And the universe answered.

You watch as a leaf falls down, and glows ever brighter. It morphs from a leaf, to a flame, to a bright shining star. It falls down growing bigger and bigger until it falls down into your hands. It feels… warm… welcoming.

You feel… safe

For the first time in a while. As you look down on it, you feel one command in your head

Eat

And you do.

You feel warm in your chest. 

What happened? You aren’t exactly sure, but maybe things will be… different? You aren’t really sure why you did that, you probably shouldn’t eat random star things that float down in front of you. You sigh, and start to talk away from the tree. You start to walk away and–

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

It feels as though you’ve been directly stabbed by a red hot dagger, splicing apart your body. You look down, and see that in place of your normal cloak is a giant, glowing star-shaped hole. Your cloak begins to burn into ash, and you collapse into the ground. The pain is unbearable, you fall onto the ground, clutching your chest in pain. You look at your skin, and what should be your regular light shade of skin, is a black abyss with tiny glints of light within.

Your “friends” rush towards you, as they probably heard from all the screaming you’ve done when this started. The Housemaiden shakes your shoulders,

“SIFFRIN, WHAT’S WRONG?!?!? WHAT’S HAPPENING TO YOU, OH CHANGE-”

Before you can respond, A blinding pain strikes out from within your skull, You thoughts cloud, you can’t quite process what is happening. This is most definitely the worst headache you’ve ever experienced, it feels almost as your head is about to burst.

And then it does.

You find yourself in a black void. You don’t know where you are. You feel... Different. The structure of your body has... Changed? You look down upon yourself, and instead of the body you’re oh so familiar with, it's wrong. You build, the shade you are, the giant star on your chest. Something has gone wrong. Your head feels weightless, and as you reach towards your head,       you can’t really exactly feel where your face begins and ends.

But worst of all, something else changed. Something far worse, something terrible. Something far more important.

You can feel that your personality has been permanently changed.

[kivaember]

Title: alis propriis volat (they fly with their own wings) Rating: T+ (may go up later) Pairing: V.IV Rusty/Raven | C4-621 Tags/CW: Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Complicated Relationships, Morally Ambiguous Characters, Implied/Reference Suicide, Implied/Referenced Indentured Servitude, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Medical Trauma, Mute Raven | C4-621, Identity Issues, Worldbuilding, Unreliable Narrator, Trust Issues, Implied/Referenced Sex, Panic Attacks Summary: “I’m not here to kill you, buddy.” Slowly, Rusty crouched down. “I’m here to capture you, before Arquebus does.” or; C4-621 manages to escape Institute City on his own after V.II Snail’s failed ambush, but with Handler Walter no longer in contact with him, and Balam essentially destroyed, C4-621’s only ally is the disembodied Ayre. Well, until the RLF swoop in, but that’s its own awkward can of worms. Current Chapter: 19

[hopeswriting]

part 1 part 3

The look in Tsuna’s eyes has changed, and it makes Nana want to cry.

It’s not a bad change. It’s not one that makes him unhappy or that makes it hard to look in his eyes. If anything Tsuna’s gained confidence, standing straighter, speaking louder and looking people in the eye longer. It seems he’s trying to keep it subtle and unnoticeable, but even if he wasn’t, she wouldn’t be surprised if Iemitsu and her were still the only ones to see the change in him plain as day.

Not when it’s only ever been him and her in the mansion against the rest of them ever since he was born.

It’s only ever been him, her and Iemitsu too against the rest of them when he finds the time to stand by their sides, when having been Vongola first and for much longer before becoming her husband and Tsuna’s father allow him to. Nana noticed the change in Tsuna first, and she doesn’t know if it’s right of her to wish it’d unsettle Iemitsu the same way it unsettles her.

The look in Tsuna’s eyes has changed, and it makes Nana ashamed and guilty.

When did it change?

She can’t tell. One day he was her little Tsu-kun the same as she’s always known him to be, and the next she was looking in his eyes and feeling like she was seeing them for the first time in her life.

Why did it change?

She can guess. It’s only ever been him and her in the mansion against the rest of them ever since he was born, but it seems Nana has been failing to meet him halfway, forcing him to look into himself to become his own strength and support.

Tsuna shouldn’t even feel like it’s only the two of them against the rest of them. Not when he’s been born in this world, not when it’s the only world he’s ever known, unlike her who married in it, who loved her way in it. They spend time in Namimori whenever they can, only being Nana, Iemitsu and Tsuna, only being the Sawada family, but surely it can’t have that much weight compared to the life he’s known the most all his life, can it?

But maybe it has, because Tsuna has always taken from her the most rather than from Iemitsu. Iemitsu has always happily and lovingly agreed to that, loves to remind her of that fact whenever he can, and she never considered the thought that fact might one day feel bittersweet to know.

Nana frustratingly wipes the slow tears dripping down her cheeks. She’s alone in her room, too big and luxurious. No doubt something most people would dream of, but it’s never been a dream of hers, has never been a part of what her ideal life looks like. She sits in the armchair, keeping her eyes away from the too large bed she doesn’t get to share at night as often as she’d want to.

She retreats in her room at times when she feels too painfully just how much ill-fitted she still is for the mafia world, even after all these years. She’s learned to put up a perfect front, to be the trustworthy and reliable wife of a high-ranked and powerful mafioso. She’s learned when to smile and when not to, when to demand respect and when to let it slide, when to be accommodating and when to exert her higher influence and status to make them accommodate her, but it’s still just that, a front. It’s still not who she is, nor the way she wants to be a trustworthy and reliable wife to her husband when it comes to his job.

Today it stings especially deep that Iemitsu wasn’t able to make it to dinner even though he said he should be able to, and she couldn’t even bear to finish dinner with Tsuna first before retreating in her room. Not when the look in his eyes has changed.

It’s not a bad change, and she’s even proud of him for it, she is. Tsuna’s growing up, of course he’s growing up. It’s not something any parents can stop their children from doing however much they wish they could, but he isn’t supposed to grow up that fast. Shouldn’t be forced to, shouldn’t feel the need to.

He shouldn’t be growing up so fast not even herself noticed when it happened, shouldn’t have had to do it alone, and it makes her want to cry, makes her heart clench.

She’s learned to be a mafioso’s wife, but she seems to have forgotten to also be a mother at the same time.

She believed she could be both when she decided to become part of Iemitsu’s world instead of going her separate way from him, resolved she would be both. Both Iemitsu’s wife and the wife of a mafioso, as well as Tsuna’s mother, and not just the mother of the son of a mafioso, but here she is anyway.

Here they both are now.

Tears keep trickling down her face, and she doesn’t care to wipe them away anymore. She doesn’t have anyone to wipe them away for her either, doesn’t have anyone to trust the secret of their existence with. Not anyone who’d understand them anyway.

Never mind that she was a civilian most of her life before becoming mafia, because it’s not as if all mafiosi want their children to follow in their footsteps or don’t wish they could get them out of it too. Mafiosi of lower status or of no status at all gaining a higher status through marriage is a common practice too, and similar enough to her situation to allow understanding.

But Nana chose to marry in this world, chose to love her way in it when she was completely free from it and could have remained so. Iemitsu and her both resolved to do everything they could to have the best of both worlds, and she can’t think of anyone who’d understand she truly believed they could achieve it if they just tried hard enough, because she’s the one who was a civilian most of her life.

She can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t laugh at her face or wouldn’t look at her with disdain and contempt should she confide her tears in them.

Of course Iemitsu’s split between his family and theirs, and has to choose his family so to keep theirs safe, if for no other reason. Of course he can’t make it back to them as often and for as long as she’d want him to, and one day might never come back to them at all, leaving her without a husband and Tsuna without a father.

Of course Tsuna will grow up to become mafia too, and she wants to raise him to be a mafioso if she cares about him surviving the mafia and living in it for as long as possible. It’s the world she gave birth to him in, and the life she gave birth to him to.

But now she wants to blame them and their world for it when she chose to become one of them too? When she chose to make their world hers too?

They’d be right about everything, but Iemitsu swore.

Nana loves him, of course she does. He’s the love of her life, she knows it deep in her bones without a shadow of a doubt. When he told her the truth about just what his job was and she wondered just how many other things he might have lied to her about, she’s still never doubted his love for her, nor a second of him loving her.

Ultimately it’s what made her stay, but Nana has always wanted children more than anything else in the world. She’s always wanted to love them and see them grow up and live long, safe and happy lives. If not for Iemitsu swearing to her their children would be able to choose, wouldn’t be forced in anything, that he’d see to it they wouldn’t be no matter what, she swears she would have made another choice because she loves Tsuna more than anything else in the world, she does.

Iemitsu swore.

He lied.

He didn’t mean to, is still trying not to, but here they all are now.

Because Tsuna is an heir to Vongola too, even if he’s only the spare, their very last option should it ever come to that, which is the only reason why they live in the Vongola mansion despite how it politically poorly reflects on CEDEF when it comes to its independence from Vongola.

Anger burns alive in Nana’s chest at the sight of her too big and luxurious room.

It always burns alive too whenever everyone acts as if they’re entitled to see Tsuna as only the spare heir, one they don’t want and don’t think anything of at best, and so they feel all the more entitled to disregard him completely until they’ll have a need of him, if such a day should ever happen. As if they wouldn’t throw themselves at his feet and beg him to save Vongola from meeting its end should such a day happen.

Nana hates the sight of it, yet doesn’t allow herself to hold onto her anger, has no right to. Iemitsu swore, but it’s both their failures that he isn’t able to keep his promise. Because Nana hates even more the way they feel free to only see Tsuna as someone they might one day need but don’t care about in the meantime even in front of her, as if they weren’t talking about her son, but she knows who she has to blame for it.

After all a good mafioso’s wife hasn’t anything to say when people praise her son whenever he shows potential to become a great mafioso, and she shouldn’t want to take his defense when they look down at him for the many ways he’s ill-fitted to become a mafioso, shouldn’t feel happy, proud and relieved at that.

Nana hides her face in her hands, the sobs she’s been holding back stuck in her throat and choking her.

“Mama?”

Nana startles, hastily wiping her eyes dry as she stands. “Ts—Tsuna?” Tsuna’s half in her room, half still hidden behind the door. She smiles. “Did you already finish eating?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, of course not,” she says a little too fast, walking to him. “Come on in. You know I always have time for my little Tsu-kun, right?” Tsuna gives her a small smile, fully stepping inside but staying at the door. “Do you need something?”

“Why didn’t Papa eat with us?” Nana freezes. “He said he would too.”

“I’m sure he tried, but sometimes he still can’t because of his work. Because he works hard so he can take care of us.” Tsuna says nothing, his eyes intent on her, and she kneels in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “Because he loves us,” she feels compelled to say by the way he looks at her.

“You don’t like it here.”

Nana’s smile falters, and it feels stiff when she forcefully keeps it on her face anyway. “It’s… a little lonely sometimes. You know how much your mama loves your papa, right?” She laughs, but Tsuna’s lips don’t even twitch. “If I could, I’d spend all my time with the both of you, so sometimes I just miss him, that’s all.”

“You were crying.”

Nana smiles wider. “I just miss him a lot today. But I’m okay, so you don’t have to worry.”

Tsuna looks down, his shoulders dropping. “But I like Namimori better too.”

“Your dad loves us,” Nana says again, squeezing his hands, and she doesn’t know for whom she says it. “That’s why he wanted us to live together here, so he could still be with us and still keep working at the same time. You know that, right?”

“But I love you too. So I’d let you go so you can be happy too.”

Nana stops smiling, and she can’t make herself smile again even when Tsuna shyly catches her eye again from under his eyelashes. She wants to squeeze his hands even tighter, but she doesn’t want to hurt him. “Tsu-kun, you… there’s something you decided you want to do, isn’t it? Is it anything Mama can help you with?”

“I’m okay,” he says first, because of course, she’s been his mother just as long as he’s been her son, and the smile ghosting her lips is genuine. “I just want to make friends. I… feel lonely too. And…” he looks her straight in the eye, squeezing her hands back, and the new look in his eyes is the most obvious she’s seen it yet “… I want my people. I want a family too.”

Nana’s heart clenches, clenches, clenches.

Iemitsu and her failed him both, and so he had to look in himself to find the strength and resolve to be the one to give himself the choice. Maybe to even make it should it come to that.

He’s not saying Iemitsu and her aren’t his family. To him there’s always been family and family ever since he was born, and if he doesn’t want to become Vongola’s family but Vongola still won’t let go of him in case they end up having a need for him, then he’ll just have to carve a place of his own within it so he can call it home and family too.

“I love you too,” Tsuna says again. “Can it be enough?”

Can he be enough?

Can she stand by him even if it might mean she’ll have to stand against Iemitsu at times? Even if it might mean she’ll have to help him go against family at times?

Nana slaps her hand against her mouth, tears spilling out of her eyes before she has any chance to stop them, Tsuna’s hopeful and uncertain voice breaking her heart.

In the next second she holds him tight against her, burying her face in his hair. “Of course it’s enough. Oh, Tsu-kun, I’m so sorry. You’re everything I’ll ever need. Of course, of course, always.”

Tsuna says nothing, but holds her tight too, and when his body shakes and she feels her shirt growing wet, she cries harder.

Her baby boy, her little Tsu-kun, and that she made him lose faith in the fact she loves him for exactly who he is, she thinks him good enough and perfect just the way he is, and that she’d never change anything to him and will always love him no matter what is crushing.

When has he started thinking even her might wish he was better at being who he is? When has he started losing faith in her love for him?

She can’t tell.

How can she not be able to tell?

But Tsuna still wants her to be his mother, is willing to give her the chance to make up for her failures as his mother up until now, and she won’t let him down, not ever again.

And Nana loves Iemitsu too, she does. He’s the love of her life. It hurts to know Tsuna won’t ask the same of Iemitsu, especially when it’s love that’d make Iemitsu not want to let go of him either, and she can only hope he’ll do so somewhere down the line sooner than later, but it’s still an easy choice to do. It’s not even a choice at all, and when—when, hopefully—Tsuna will ask the same of him, she can only hope his answer will come to him as naturally as breathing too.

She’ll stand by Tsuna and will always choose him over anything and everyone else in the world, of course she will.

Nana can’t tell how much time has passed when they finally pull back from each other. She helps Tsuna dries his tears, and he laughs as she does, making her laugh too, both of them smiling bright and wide.

She cradles his face between his hands, leaning his forehead against his. “You’re perfect just the way you are, Tsuna. There’s nothing about you you need to change, and Mama promise to always love you no matter what, all right?”

He marks a pause, looking into her eyes, but then smiles, tears gleaming in his eyes again. “Okay. I love you too.”

“Did you finish eating?”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t hungry anymore after you left.”

“Then will you go tell Madi we’re sorry, but we’d be grateful if she could prepare us something warm again? I’ll be right behind you.”

Tsuna beams, and she smiles wider at him. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He cheers, throwing himself in her arms for a quick hug before running out of her room. She laughs, standing up, and finds a mirror to make sure she’s presentable again before leaving her room too.

She doesn’t look like much with her wet cheeks, red eyes and disheveled hair. Then again, she’s never looked like much in any of their eyes, has she? Even after she met their standards of what they expected the wife of Vongola’s CEDEF’s boss to be. Of how they expected her to be.

She supposes she was a civilian too long for them to not keep seeing her as a civilian before anything else, and one too clueless to ever realize just the full extent of the influence and power her status holds. The authority her status holds too, as long as she makes use of her influence and power right. Especially when she’s only been doing the strict minimum in being mafia, and her personality being what it is likely works against her too.

Good. Let them keep thinking that way, as it’s all things she’ll make work for her now. Things she’ll make work for Tsuna.

Nana learned how to be a good mafioso’s wife. She can start from scratch again and learn how to be Tsuna’s mother too.

And if it’ll help her be a better mother to him, if it’ll help her help him be happy in the world she gave birth to him in and in the life she gave birth to him to, she can also learn to be the wife of Vongola’s CEDEF’s boss and the mother of one of Vongola’s heirs.

She will.

[rafasbiscuits]

I forgot to bring this here omo, anyways I wrote a little thierev fanfic a few weeks ago so <3

[paigemathews]

Whenever I actually sit down and start posting the next gen series, one of the things that I really wanna do is kind of... incorporate reader's choices into it? Not in big ways bc my plan is to write like a full season before I start posting episodes and that can affect it, but like. smaller beats.

One example is that I have an episode idea where there's a big emotional thing for three different characters and our resident empath has a discussion with each of them, but it's reader choice which scene we see. Another one is an episode where it's reader's choice for who gets hit with some kind of emotional puncture and just spews emotions everywhere. It'd be mostly character and relationship scenes for arcs that are already happening, but readers would have the chance to see their favorite or the one that they're most curious about up close on "screen." Not for every episode, but like. maybe once or twice a season or something. Idk, thought it might be interesting.

[herrscherofmagic]

First of all: this is absolutely amazing and I can't thank you enough for this analysis of Acheron!!

Second: I just wanted to add a mention of Honkai World Diva, which is Mei's signature song from the GGZ days when Mihoyo was literally a smol indie company; a cover of it was used in Lament of the Fallen in HI3rd!

"Crimson moon shines upon a town that is smeared in blood…" Cried the diva given into lament All those sweet little dreams buried deep in memories until the very end -Honkai World Diva lyrics

I'm really far behind on the story and haven't even started Penacony nor seen most of the promo material, so all the little glimpses I've caught of Acheron & Black Swan content have confused me, and in general I've been losing interest in HSR's main story and have been trying to get back

but with all the context you've given in this analysis, plus the lyrics of Honkai World Diva, it feels like Acheron is a totally different character for me now

like, Mei never truly "lost" Kiana in most versions of their story. Yes in GGZ when God Kiana ended the world at the end of the Retrospective arc, but otherwise they managed to hold on and fight together for most of the time. and in HI3rd ditto, Mei never truly "lost" Kiana. She was close, yes, but Kiana endured and they reunited eventually.

So Honkai World Diva always fit Mei but in a sorta loose way, it always felt almost like a parody of Mei's actual story, y'know?

BUT NOW WITH ACHERON??? HELLO?????

Like at first in Genshin with Raiden Ei I thought her story sorta fit HWD as well because of the loss of Makoto, and the whole "red moon" thing from the Khaenri'ah cataclysm. But with Acheron it's so painfully clear in that teaser image and with all the other context you've given.

If Acheron lost her "Kiana" then all the lyrics would fit her story nearly perfectly!

O your smile is tainted and your face is cold There's no more comfort in your lips and cheeks The whirling noise is pulling me within The tainted carcass of this world

[Pre-Chorus] All the incandescent stars of heaven will die at the end of days Your gentle soul given to damnation

The death of the person closest to Acheron and the disaster in which it happened. (also... "your gentle soul given to damnation" is such a powerful line and I pray to Da Wei that we get something like that in HSR's story!!)

[Chorus] "Crimson moon shines upon a town that is smeared in blood..." Cried the diva given into lament All those sweet little dreams buried deep in memories until the very end

[Verse 2] Lost and faded truth of bygone memories Hiddеn deep in my corrupt body

Imagery of the disaster and Acheron's despair, along with the memories being "buried away" with Acheron seemingly unable to remember neither the good nor bad of her past life; also the "corrupt body" of her white-and-red form

[Pre-Chorus] I can hear the voices of the people I miss in this final song I would tremble just to hold them once more

[Chorus] "Florid moon shines upon a world that is doomed to die..." Wailed the diva given into lament All our pale, fleeting dreams are where the truths are hidden Until they fade away

"Crimson moon shines upon the town that is smeared in blood..." Cried the diva given into lament All those sweet little dreams buried deep in memories until the very end

The mention of the truth being "hidden" in fleeting dreams, paired with the teaser when Black Swan was diving into Acheron's memories to find the "truth" about whatever happened w/ the Annihilation Gang...

obligatory post before acheron's release

obviously, it's established that acheron is a variant of raiden mei. her real name is not actually acheron (confirmed through the livestream, but...come on, we all already knew that). specifically, there's loads of similarities in her design to the herrscher of thunder above all else

similar hair structure, hair part, n hairpiece (n obviously the color, too),

sword structure, patterns, n nearly identical handles,

one "red" arm,

the bust/halter,

and of course, the color scheme as shown in acheron's "emanator" form, n the horns shown in the livestream

with all that in mind, i imagine acheron is a variant of mei who failed to save the person closest to her (her kiana, to simplify it), n/or watched them die, or even killed them herself. it's shown during her dance with black swan that there was obviously someone important to her in her past, conflict arose in a setting much like the one featured in the livestream, n there's even imagery of her walking alone with only the moon in the sky to keep her company

kiana has been associated with the moon n moon imagery since the flyme2themoon days; her origin was quite literally a game about blasting off to the moon

this teaser resembles thunders over nagazora to me, as well as mei watching kiana's end in honkai gakuen

there's also the fact that the type of emanator acheron is, an emanator of nihility, is classified as a self-annihilator; those who have felt the pull of nihility n been unable to escape drowning in it. self-annihilator's take the meaning of nihility to heart, so much so that it erodes their bodies n memories

acheron has been confirmed as the self-annihilator type in her character introduction posted recently. what really strikes me about this line is the phrasing of "existence is nothing"

sounds familiar, doesn't it?

mei is characterized by the tragedies in her life, n how they impact her. growing up isolated, a kidnapping at a young age, bullying at school, suicidal tendencies, n the constant reminder that the girl she loves more than anything in the world will always put the overall well being of humanity over herself

to me, acheron is a mei shaped by loss. the mei we remember from hi3 had the chance to grow n change; to learn from her mistakes, n to fight for a better world, bc she had the support of her friends n her most important person. acheron doesn't seem to have that level of support from anyone, at least not anyone still in her life currently

which brings me to my next point. she HAD a "kiana," but ultimately lost her. n this is the result

acheron is incredibly powerful, but her power seems incredibly volatile. she carries this innate sadness with her wherever she goes, n the very path she walks n the very aeon she became an avatar of strips life of all meaning, all the beauty from the world

it's a far cry from the mei we know, bc clearly, there was a very pivotal change in her development that i can only attribute to the loss of her world's "kiana"

[bitchlessdino]

scream your heart out (m)

🔪pairing: fem!reader x seventeen (???) 🔪genre: horror, slasher, smut 🔪tags: DISCLAIMIER!!! MAY NOT SUIT MOST AUDIENCES, Graphic sexual and violent imagery color coded in pink, abrupt changes in text color, features/mentions members (Chan, Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungcheol, Seokmin, Junhui, Soonyoung, Joshua), established relationships, scream au!seventeen, Hybristophilia, erotophonophilia, homicidophilia, graphic images, mention panic attacks, smoking, mentions disfigurement of faces, severed body parts, knives, guns, threatening phone calls, face masks (horror), knife wielding, blood, gore, death/murder, knife play, bloody handjobs, cum mixing with blood, consensual sex but nonconsensual murder, HONESTLY SOME REALLY FUCKED UP SHIT AND IM SORRY BUT YALL SHOULD BE READING THE WARNINGS, sexual innuendos, kitchen sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, cream pies, cuck! (??) member, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breeding kink, PLS LET ME KNOW IF IM MISSING ANYTHING PLS 🔪word count: 6.8k 🔪summary: you and your friends get caught up in a classic horror slasher movie, only it's in real life. Now you're off to fend for yourselves in Seungcheol's million dollar home. The question is, did you keep them out, or did you just lock them in? 🔪author note: thank you @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for beta reading for me <3. here's some of their notes “I’m scratching my face to not fucking scream” “WELL SHIT BRO WHAT THE FUCK” -Zeta “It definitely does capture that slasher essence” -SJ this was so fun yet mind numbing to write but this is way more extreme than anything I’ve ever written like I lost a lot of sanity writing this. FR one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever written. I hope it was worth it. ENJOY EVERYONE and even tho it came out late HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Ever since the murders over a week ago, everyone in town has been on edge. All including the individuals most closely involved.

You had lost three core members of your eight. 

Joshua, someone you’ve known since grade school who was sliced open from the back before being stabbed 8 times to the point of excessive bleeding. He had just gone out to walk his dog, the poor creature being the only reason they found his body at all. If not for the dog’s bloody paws, and the trail of blood they left behind finding help, Joshua’s cadaver would’ve lost deep in the woods.

And then Chan, your long-time boyfriend, was stabbed fifteen times in the chest. His face was so disfigured from obvious violence and what looked to be burn scars, that he was practically unrecognizable if not for the fact he died in his own home. Police are still looking for his severed arms and legs to this day with no luck.

And finally, Seungkwan, who hadn’t died but lost to the paranoia festering in his blood like a disease. That caused him to take the train to the furthest destination possible to attempt to escape death if at all possible, leaving the rest of you with only the reassuring texts he left in his wake.

All that was left was you, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Wonwoo; the core five.

“Okay, absolutely no one is leaving this house for the time being. Until the psycho is caught behind bars, dead, or whatever the fuck! We’re safe here.”

Seungcheol, the eldest, did just as expected: contacted the rest of you into a personal prison. Luckily, he was loaded. The prison happened to be six thousand square feet of space with countless rooms, amenities, and a housekeeper to boot. From the looks of it, it’s paradise, but it’s definitely a prison.

“Holy shit, you have an indoor basketball court?”

A prison with an indoor basketball court. And a pool apparently.

Seokmin wasted no time to enjoy these features, breaking out of his clothes and cannonballing in his underwear. If you knew any better, Seokmin didn’t even look like he went through any trauma at all. It looked like every other day for him.

“There's a murderer and you’re doing butterfly strokes?” You asked, baffled.

The golden man scoffed, reaching the edge of the pool and resting against it with his forearms. “What am I gonna do? Wallow, crying to my mom, worrying about dying, and not taking advantage of this gorgeous mansion we’re staying in?”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” Seungcheol grinned.

Seokmin winked back at him, “Of course, daddy.”

“How are you both so unserious about all this?”

Wonwoo left a kind hand against your shoulder, looking back at you with warm eyes and a small smile. “They’re grieving. Just in their own way.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re being ridiculous. We shouldn’t be here. We need to be at the police station or something.”

“You were there when I got the call. The creepy voice said no police or you all die. Remember?”

You shuddered, hands over your sides to relieve your chilled skin. “Of course I do, but we’re sitting ducks here. This isn’t any better. We need protection.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to scoff then. He strutted in front of you, flaunting his wing span before flexing his arms and then crossing them over his chest. “Well, you have me.”

“And me,” Seokmin joined. “Pure muscle right here.”

“Maybe pure laughing gas, not sure about muscle. We’re actually living in a horror movie right now and you’re all making jokes.”

“Hey,” Wonwoo stroked your head as his soothingly deep voice serenaded you, “Don’t say that. We’ll make it out of here.”

His arms come around you, forearms pressed against your collarbones, and his chin crooked over your shoulder. “You have me too. I would run through that knife before it could get to you.”

You genuinely smile for the first time being there, your hand stroking over his embrace. Wonwoo delicately kissed the temple of your forehead, reminding you what it was like to be constantly adored.

You were grateful for what he had become in your life. Wonwoo had kept you company in your time of need. In the absence of Chan. He had come to your house with whatever he thought you might need, lent you his shoulder that you could cry on, lent his ears so that he could listen, lent his body that you could heal. In more ways than one.

“You’re right. You are.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his body and meeting his eyes framed in specs of hard plastic. “You’re the first person I can sacrifice if we face them head to head.”

He mused at you. “Ooh, now look who’s pulling jokes.”

“Who said I was joking?”

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Minghao commented coming through the back door. “Horror movie rules: they get killed while having sex.”

You punched the new face right in the arm, watching him scurry away to your other friends laughing.

“Not funny, Hao.”

Minghao sneers at you, a jester smile still on his face. “Ease up, princess. Wonwoo, watch your girl.”

“Only because she’s so pretty to look at,” he briefly grinned down at you before directing his attention to Minghao sternly, “but come on. We’re all a little psyched right now. Cool it with the murder talk. Alright?”

Wonwoo pulled you aside into the dining area, ignoring the careless laughter outside. His thumb stroked against your knuckles, lips pressing sweetly against your cheeks. His grin sunk deeper in his cheeks the further he made it past your jaw and then down your neck. He felt your throat vibrate against his lips. “Wonwoo…”

“I can’t have all these guys get you heated like this. That’s my job,” he teased with a rasp.

You slightly pushed him off, your arms swung over his shoulders. “You’re so ridiculous right now.”

“Anything to put that smile on your face.”

His lips reconnected with your neck, nipping at your skin. His humming sent tingles down your spine, and he took your body to press you against the side of the counter. Your hands grasped his baggy shirt, lip close to his ear, fanning your breath against his face. You smiled like a girl in love. Obsessed.  “Daddy…”

“I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled, just as love-struck, if not more. Your giggles brought out the pink on Wonwoo’s ears and cheeks while tightening the groin of his pants. You noticed immediately, cupping it in your palm, and running your finger along the seam. Your eyes skimmed over his taken expression, leaning your full weight into him. “I know there’s something else you really love.”

“Do you now?”

You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “But do you really want to do it here? Risk getting caught?”

He leaned into your touch, allowing your fingers to take apart his pants. “Try new things right? Like you always say. Plus you’re scared. Gonna turn that fear into pleasure. Make you feel good, just what my baby deserves.”

“You're so good to me, Daddy,” you moaned.

His hand finds the hem of your shorts, pulling them down to expose yourself to the cold air. He fingered through your panties and slid two digits through your folds. He felt your breath hitch as he squeezed your clit, eliciting your soft whines. “You’re so wet down there, baby.”

“Just waiting for daddy to fuck me where anyone can find us and watch.”

Wonwoo eagerly pulled down his pants, kicking them and yours aside, but not without pocketing your underwear. He lifted you up slightly from the ground, his exposed cock hitting at your hip. “Look what you do to me.”

Your throat went dry at the sight of him, hand aching to wrap your hand around his girth and have him shoved inside you.

He didn’t let you wait a second long, and pushed in slowly inch by inch, burying himself in your pussy until he was nearly balls deep. You grasped his shoulder in a gasp, savoring the fire burning in your stomach. The girth of his cock stretched your molten walls, allowing them to melt all around his cock as he spread your legs. You writhe in his embrace, your limbs closing around his lean and toned build, already blissful from the few seconds of him being inside you.

Wonwoo’s words kissed your lips, flushed your skin, and left a permanent smile on your face. It swelled pride in his chest, better than any physical trophy would have. His hips slowly rolled against yours, letting you adjust to his size. He massaged the flesh of your side through his fingers, mentally reassuring himself you were his and his alone, but his names on your lips became more than proof.

Your hips buckled towards him in heat, matching his pace before the carnal side of him decided to fuck you like an animal. His cock then plunged sharply inside you, and then again, a whimper coming out of your lips. Your hips stuttered the harder he pounded, arching your back, you felt his hand above your ass, pushing you against him.

“Daddy…”

He lost control when it came to you, addicted—religious—the second your body came in contact with his. He loved how your fingers ran through his hair, not caring how his glasses fell off his face in the process. With drool out of the corner of his lips, he could feel the blood rush up to the surface of your skin, making him feel warm at home inside you. Throbbing, he only got harder feeling how perfectly snug you were, pricking his clammy skin with goosebumps as he bottomed out.

“You’re sopping, precious,” he murmured with a sly grin.

He had you begging, flustered, and beautiful. Your hand clasped his face as your other arm looped around his neck, swallowing his lips, anxious and thirsty for his breath. You craved every part of him viscerally. “Cum in me, daddy. Please…”

He scoffed, lips ghosting over yours. “Will you take every bit of daddy’s cum, hmm? Hold my cum inside you.”

You nodded gingerly. “Yes, yes. I promise, daddy. Give it to me please, I want you to spill your cum inside me and make me yours…”

“Hold on to me.”

You obliged, met with the hot stream of his climax, yours quick to follow. He embraced your sides, devouring your lips and muffling your whines. His loads pumped into you in erratic thrusts, fucking his cum back into you and making sure you drained him of every ounce. His fingers dug into your flesh, feeling you just come apart for him, undoing the tension that festered earlier.

But that tension was needed. It was necessary to survive. Everyone let themselves forget the current predicament, basking in the glow of the sunset until dinner time arrived. Despite the housekeeper that supposedly exists, she hadn’t been around since all of you stepped foot in the house, like a ghost presence. Seungcheol scrambled to find her—reminding you of his peculiar obsession with the woman—as he wondered when dinner would be ready since a rise in temperature or a savory scent couldn’t be found in the kitchen.

“That’s strange. She’d be finished with a whole chicken by now,” the homeowner commented, noticeably picking his nails.

“Aww,” Seokmin groaned, “Well, is there anything else to eat?”

“I mean…you can look around.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “This is your house. You don’t know what you have in your own house?”

“You try navigating a five-story home with countless cabinets!”

“Buy a smaller house, you prick!”

“Guys!” Minghao chimed in. “Breathe in…and out. We’ll just find food. Seungcheol, your maid, your house, your search. She’s probably fine.”

Your hands slammed against those pristine marble counters. “We are NOT splitting up right now. This is what the killer wants. She’s probably already dead and we’re fucked.”

Wonwoo came to your side, laying a cool calm over your shoulder, and rubbed your sides. You let yourself melt in his touch, his sweet voice soothing you effectively. 

Seokmin sat up from his stool, “Okay, okay. I will help Seungcheol and you guys stick together.”

“That’s still splitting up!”

“Better than alone.” Seungcheol rebutted. “You guys stay.”

Despite your protests, they went on their search. Your head banged against Wonwoo’s chest, muttering in anguish about how everything was going wrong and that it’d only get worse. Meanwhile, Minghao seemed to regain some of that tension but masked the fear with the bright light of his phone, scrolling through TikTok. You didn’t know what was more annoying, sensation of imminent death possibly behind any door, or the same five songs replaying on Minghao’s feed.

After 15 minutes when they were nowhere to be seen, your patience had run thin. You picked yourself up from Wonwoo’s lap and dusted yourself off. “Fuck this. We’re finding them.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a concerned glow in his gaze. “Babe, hey. They’ve got it. Trust them.”

“Wonwoo, you know I can’t do that. Let’s just find them, hmm? Together?”

“Not a bad idea,” Minghao agreed. “Better in groups right? We go together, eliminate us as any potential suspects.”

Your boyfriend sighed, collected your hand, and laced his fingers through yours. “Fine.”

You were all joined together by the hip, making sure you were each other's sights. Through the wider than wingspan hallways, past the ridiculously expensive sculptures, you kept your eyes out for your estranged friends. Silence couldn’t have been more loud in these cavernous spaces, only hearing the gut feelings in your stomachs that’s churned in trepidation. Every step taken was the group closing in on the killer. 

Fortitude meant nothing if the danger was already inside.

Before turning around the corner, Minghao—reluctant to lead the group—crashed into a human-sized obstacle, causing the stumble of your entire party. You all faced a wide-eyed Seungcheol with the missing young housekeeper walking hand in hand with him. Suspicious, but besides the point.

“Holy shit, we said we’d come back!”

“It’s been 20 minutes, Cheol! You guys could’ve been dead for all we know.” You retorted.

“Wait, where’s Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked, noticing he didn’t see him nearby.

“He went ahead. He needed to piss or something and meet up later.”

“You idiot.” Your eyes burned a frustrated rage. “I said don't split up. DON’T SPLIT UP! That’s the number one rule of horror movies. You’re going get us fucking killed. He could be the murderer for all we know.”

Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. “Seokmin? No way. He’s the last person to even think to do that.”

“Well, do you see him? No! Probably he’s off someone being Ghostface reject with his stupid little voice modulator and cheap party city costume.”

“I told you—“ Before he could finish, his phone went off in the nick of time. When he pulled it out to saw Seokmin’s caller ID on display and the owner of the device wouldn’t help but smile. “See the bastard is even calling.”

He picked up and put him on speaker, eyeing you cheekily, amped to prove you wrong. “Seok, you little shit. How long does it take to piss, huh? Just say you wanted to take a dump.”

“Oh yeah, I took the shittiest, stinkiest, fattest dump. You could probably smell all the way from the other end of the hall.”

Instead of Seokmin on the other line, all of you were met with the eerie voice that had called you multiple times before. The voice that felt like spiders crawling up your legs. The voice that had you second guess whether you locked the front and the back door. The voice whose owner had killed countless people already. 

Seungcheol held the phone in a vice grip swallowing, fear stilling in his unsteady eyes. “You—Where the fuck is Seokmin, you son of a bitch?”

The morphed voice on the other end laughed, sounding bone chilling as nails against a blackboard. “What’s to say? Why don’t we play a little game to find out?”

“Mother fu—“You grabbed the phone from Seungcheol to answer in his place, cutting the older man off. “Why go through with this?”

“Why, I just want to help you find your beloved friend. All out of the kindness of my heart.”

“If it was all kindness, you could tell us where he is.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Psycho,” Minghao muttered under his breath, eyes wide in shock and fear, as if registering the idea of death for the first time.

“And if we refuse?” Wonwoo interjected.

“Seokmin dies, rock for brains,” Seungcheol gritted.

“Ding, ding, ding. Or should I say, chop, chop, chop, since that’s what'll happen if you get any of my questions wrong.”

You scoffed, coming down the stairs with your friends to follow. “Have at it then, you freak.”

“Hey, hey, play nice. Maybe I’ll get too excited and decide to cut him up early.”

Seungcheol glared at you briefly before taking back the phone, storming down the stairs, and reaching the ground floor. “Ask away, as long as Seokmin is safe.”

“First an easy one. What’s your favorite scary movie, Seungcheol?”

His feet stopped at the end of the couch in his living room, stammering to answer. “What kind of fucking question—uh, The Ring?”

“Don’t lie to your friends, Seungcheol. You know that’s not the answer, that’s just what you say to anyone that asks. Say the real answer.”

“That’s the movie though!” he started to shout, visibly shaking.

“Just say it, Cheol!” Minghao pushed.

“Stop playing around Choi Seungcheol! Just say it,” You joined.

“Fine!” He faced the friends, evidently swallowing his pride as he choked up on his answer. “I never watched a goddamn scary movie! Is that what you want to hear? I get panic attacks every time I hear one in the background, why do you I’m always going off smoking when you guys put one on,” he confessed through his tears.

“Congratulations. Your first right answer. Now was that so hard? Pussy boy?”

“Fuck you,” Seungcheol sputtered, tossing the phone back to you.

“Next question. ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,’ Leatherface is known for wearing a mask when it was in fact several. How many and what were they in the original movie?”

“Who the fuck would know an answer like that?” Minghao croaked in disbelief.

“Three. A ‘Killing Mask’, an ‘Old Lady Mask’ and a ‘Pretty Woman Mask.’” Wonwoo calmly answers, garnering horrified looks all around. “I wanted to be a filmmaker, remember?”

“Correct. Next question. What Was Freddy Krueger's serial killer nickname before he died?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” you said slightly panicked, “Wonwoo?”

“The Springwood slasher.”

“Wow, Another amazingly correct answer. Hold on to that one, Y/n. He’s a keeper. He’s smart and fucks your brains out to the point of you screaming bloody murder? What a catch.”

You didn’t respond, impatience seething on the tip of your tongue, “Just tell us where this is all going.”

“Patience, sweetheart. Last question. What exact kind of knife does Ghostface use in the Stab movies? Here’s a hint: it’s the same one I’m holding in my hand against Seokmin’s throat. (Help me please...)”

“S-Seok.” Seungcheol gasped.

Seokmin’s voice could barely be heard on the other end, weak and afraid, only staggering breaths audible.

“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol begged, tears falling past his neck. “He’s our best friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed, gears visibly creaking in his head, “I know he uses a hunting knife, b-but—“

“Oh…” the voice cooed, “Well, that’s just not enough, is it? Seokminnie, say goodbye to your friends (Please, no…).”

“Seokmin!”

“Wait!” You barged, clutching the phone to the point of it almost bending. “A modified Buck 120. I remember now. It’s coming back to me. Now, let Seokmin go!”

The line went dead and in turn, light cast in the evening darkness of the poolside. All your eyes shot back at the change of light, startled at the sight in front of them. Seokmin was seated in a chair, bruises against his sides, bleeding from the splices on his forearms, and duct tape over his mouth. Yet the most frightening part was his closed eyes.

“Seokmin!”

You all rushed towards him, swinging the porch door in a panic. Seungcheol tried slapping him awake, pleading he’d be alive. “Seokmin please, please, wake up…

The poor victim's eyes start to flicker open, mumbling through the adhesive over his lips.

“Buddy,” Seungcheol ripped the duct tape clean off him, his ear coming up to his friend’s lips. “Speak to me…”

Seokmin’s voice came out in croaks, hardly incoherently, all except, “Be…hind…”

Minghao spat up blood, doubled over as Ghostface was revealed right behind him, and fell right into the pool. You and the housekeeper both let out a blood-curdling scream. The masked intruder wiped off the blood using his black rope, anticipating a lunge towards their next victim. 

“Run,” Wonwoo breathed out. 

He took your hand and ran with it. Taking a second to look back, you see Seungcheol and the housekeeper try to escape similarly before she was tugged right back towards the killer and she was stabbed right in front of him five times, each one faster than the last, having the poor Seungcheol paralyzed and fallen on his knees. The sounds of suffering were loud enough to hear throughout the neighborhood.

Wonwoo dragged you back upstairs, his survival instinct telling him to seek haven high and far up the house. 

“You left them there to die,” You proclaimed.

“He said he could manage it. You’re more important.”

“You actually believe that? Ghostface snuck up on Minghao with neither of us looking!”

“We’re going to have to. Secungcheol can handle himself.”

Finally, he finds the room, closing the door behind him and pushing heavy furniture in front of it for more time to stall. “We’ll be ok for a little bit here. Let’s look for weapons.”

He started rummaging through drawers, looking for anything strap, blunt, heavy, anything worth using. He was red in the face, sweat drenching his entire body. The only thing running through his mind was keeping you, the most important person in his life, safe. 

“Wonwoo, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything. Fuck. I’m so scared right now.”

He recognized the panic in your eyes, the bounce in your step, and the quiver in your voice. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He grasped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“I’m here, hmm.” He kissed your closed eyes. “You’re alright.”

Then your tempered cheeks. “We’ll get through this.”

The tip of your nose. “I love you like hell.” 

Finally your trembling lips. “I’ll keep you alive.”

“Promise?” You managed to breathe out.

“Scouts honor.”

The banging resonated from outside the locked door, only getting louder and closer every passing second as if teasing you to death. You shook in Wonwoo’s embrace, burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to die here, baby.”

“You won’t. Not with me.” One arm wrapped around your body, and another had his fingers locked around the base of a lamp, tugging it from the outlet. Pitch darkness joined you, only having to rely on the dim-lit sky through the peek of the windows.

Whomever on the other side cracked through the wood of the door, breaking it piece by piece as it fell to the ground, knocking over the dresser that blocked 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Wonwoo pushed you behind him.

Finally, your barrier came down with a final kick, rendering it useless. Wonwoo let out a battle cry, charging at them with the lamp above his head. He swung his weapon while Ghostface swung theirs, both missing simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo pulled forward, aiming for the head.

They crash against the wall in the process, but not without mutilating the midsection of Wonwoo’s stomach. The visually impaired man fell back to the ground, groaning in agony as he clutched his stomach, while blood trickled through his fingers. “Mother fucker...”

Wonwoo’s vision started to fight against him with the loss of his glasses, dimming images before him, and slowly processing the murderous figure trodding before him. Wonwoo’s determination picked him right back up slowly, picking up his lamp once again, trying to take another move toward the perpetrator. And by pure luck, the lamp crashed against the crown of their head.

Ghostface stumbled back, quick to recover but visibly agitated.  Soon enough, they plunged the full length of the knife right into Wonwoo’s gut, sticking it deep and long before kicking him off of it. Wonwoo lands on the hardwood, blood gushing out of him like a public water fountain. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You come by his side, clutching at his wound desperately. “No, no, no.”

The sinister figure approached once more, hand creeping against the edge before he pulled it over and off his head. His eyes stared back at you both maniacally. His grin stretched from both ends freakishly before overtaking in deep chuckles. “Happy to see me?”

“…C-Chan?” Wonwoo managed to gasp.

“Hi, bestie.” His signature smile, once warm and inviting, reflected horrifyingly as if out of a film, one with too much bloodshed and betrayal to imagine. “Well, didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

“Chan, what the fuck?” You screeched. 

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Wonwoo voiced panic-stricken. “What, how?”

One foot over the other, Chan carried himself with conviction, ease, and the confidence of a man who slaughtered countless amounts of people. 

“You guys don't know how easy it is to fake my death. I was surprised by how incredibly stupid police officers are. Find a body that’s my height, my build, cut off their hands and arms to not get their fingerprints, singe their skin and face to the point of unrecognition, and plant them in your own home. I’m a fucking genius.”

“S-Seungkwan,” Wonwoo wept, his adam’s apple, “You actually—”

“It was beautiful. Masterful.”

“Why?” Wonwoo stammered. “Your best friend—“

“He was an imbecile. Weak. All bark and no bite. You will never understand how good it felt to stick the knife inside him and watch the blood burst off of him like a sprinkler. Like the knife going in and out of him surged power throughout my entire body. So, I kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. AND DOING IT.”

His smile. That violating smile.

You sobbed, covering Wonwoo’s wound with your hands. “Y-you monster.”

“This was all just fun for you?” Wonwoo bared his teeth. “You get your kicks from lying, deceiving, stabbing your friends? You think you’re some Billy Loomis?”

“Of course I have fun. I had lots of fun. We had so much fucking fun.”

“We?” Wonwoo repeated.

“What the fuck do you mean we?” You asked horrified.

Chan started to chuckle to himself, chest heaving exuberantly before he stood completely still. Dreadfully still. 

“Well, I'm not the one that killed Joshua, am I?”

A million guesses ran through Wonwoo’s brain. None made sense the more he thought about it. “Your Stu Macher? Seokmin…Seungcheol…?”

Your eyes turned to him fearful, before it melted into something else, something familiar. Something terrifying. “No…” your lips drew close to his ear. “Me…” 

Your hands squeezed around his wound, gripping, earning his moans of anguish, screaming at you to stop, before you retrieved the knife hidden behind your boot and drove it into his shoulder. Wonwoo let out the loudest scream he could ever muster, feeling the blade sharply cut his nerve whilst pain shot into his chest. He tapped his heel incessantly on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes, looking at you in disbelief, overcome with hurt.

“And he was a good fuck too until the knife I put through his back made him scream like a little bitch.”

You pulled out the knife from him, seeing how the pain he felt in his body only complimented the suffering pooling in his heart, his mind, his soul. His lips quivered in your direction, sucking in his breath. “Y/n…Why?”

You simply shrugged. “Why does anyone kill these days? They’re bored, daddy. Same reason why things can change in the bedroom, to spice things up. The flavor of life is murder now, darling.”

“You’re killing people.”

You drove the knife one more time into his thigh, savoring his scream of agony. “And we’re more alive than we ever have been,” you said, twisting the knife before pulling it out.

You walked toward Chan, helping him pull off his robe. “And so is our sex life.”

“So, Junhui, Soonyoung…Joshua, and even Seungkwan.” Wonwoo asked, catching his breath.

“Every. single. one,” You chuckled. “Draining their cum out of like having a second puberty until life is literally drained out of their bodies. What a bunch of pussy boys. So obsessed with sex, they didn’t see the knife coming their way.”

Your hand reached for the ottoman and pushed Chan there to be seated, underdressed in the black tank top and black jeans he hid underneath with his momentarily abandoned bloody knife at his side. You unbuckled his pants single-handedly, your knife still in your other hand. “And Chan just gets so fucking hard with all the bloodshed. Like a bloodthirsty animal.”

“You just look so fucking sexy with blood on your hands,” Chan moaned, “Touch me how I like it, baby.”

“Mmh, my pleasure.” Your hand used the blood covering it as a morbid form of lube, closing around the girth of his cock to squeeze and lightly stroking it from base to tip, softly thumbing over the small slit on top. 

His stomach flexed, bucking his hips in your direction as he bit down on his bottom lip, beaming like a child on Christmas. Horny for your touch, Chan couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, warning up to your touch. He was absolutely growing at a rapid pace. “Like that baby, like that.”

“That feel good, daddy? You like how the blood is covering your entire cock? Seokmin’s blood, Minghao’s blood, Seungcheol’s blood? Wonwoo’s blood?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“You two,” Wonwoo’s shock couldn’t stagger from the scene in front of him, unable to process all this information at once.

“You’re massaging our friends into my cock so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over the details of his shaft, your nails prodding at the veins as your hand slowly picked up pace. You rolled him in your fist, letting him rut in your defiled hand as he moaned your name like an animal in heat. “I’m getting so wet watching fuck in my hand covered in blood. You’re just a sick lunatic obsessed with killing your friends and fucking my sweet pussy. I love that about you, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he screamed, hands gripping the ottoman in restraint, brimming with passion, “Wanna mix Wonwoo’s cum you kept inside you with the blood. Sit that sweet pussy on my cock for me, lover.”

You nodded invitingly, not missing a beat. You never did replace the underwear from before, making it easy to remove your shorts and sliding him inside your warm walls, massaging his length as you rolled your hips against his. You held the knife you still had in a death grip, stabling against the reliability of Chan’s shoulders. You mumble his name pleased, arching your back as you grinded down on his lap. “Your cock feels so good covered in blood, daddy.” 

“Your pussy feels even better knowing how much fun you had stabbing Wonwoo for me.”

“Of course, daddy.” You turned to the body mutilated and defenseless on the ground, grinning as Wonwoo was forced to watch. “That look good, Daddy Wonwoo?” Your ass bounced purposely in Chan’s lap, the jiggle showing off the splatter of blood left from the handjob.

Everything in Wonwoo told him to look away but he couldn’t, like a train wreck or a car crash, he couldn’t part with the mess of a situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure what this meant for him, mentally nor physically.

“You like watching Chan fuck me, Daddy? His bloody dirty cock fucking me like you did a hour ago, fucking me like a nasty little whore.”

He hissed through his teeth, right the strange feeling surging in his pain-stricken body, “Shut…the fuck up.”

You laughed obnoxiously. “You love it. You love being a little cuck, watching other guys fuck my pussy. As if you hadn’t peeped on me and Chan fucking when he wasn’t ‘dead’.”

“It’s not true, you bitch.” The twitch in his trousers told him otherwise.

“You’re such a liar a dirty, dirty liar like I’m a dirty, dirty fucking whore.” You groaned loudly taking Chan’s cock, bouncing against his lap as you felt him pulse around your walls.

“That’s right baby take my cock.” Chan’s hand came over your bare cheeks, striking them with his full palms while his hips jerked up your body. “Taking the murder fueled, hard fucking cock.”

“Daddy, your cock is making me so fucking wet, stretching my pussy the way you sliced open our friends,” You growled.

“Fuck you’re such a little succubus, baby. Bouncing on my cock, coating yourself in blood. And I’ll kill more and more for you. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” You began slowing your pace, drinking in his every word. “You’d do anything for me?”

“I’d kill the entire human population for you.”

That left you smiling from ear to ear, the tension coiling in your stomach. Your chest pressed against his, pushing against his thrusts. “Yeah? Would you cum in me, Daddy? Mix our dirty mess inside me. Let me take your cum, daddy.”

“I’ll let you drain me of every drop, my little psychopath.”

“Cum daddy cum, make me full and breed me with our homicidal baby daddy. Make you a real daddy.”

Chan shuddered, overwhelmed with immense arousal. His hips found life of their own, hammering into you at top speed, and watching the pleasure morph on your face and the staccato rhythm of your breath leave your lips, all while the load threatened to burst out of his sack. “I’m cumming, baby, all for you, ah—“ then it exploded inside you. His cum launched out of his cock like a hose, he painted your wall in milky white, turning pink as it seeped out of you.

“I’m so close, daddy…”

Chan threw his head back to catch his breath, hands possessively finding purchases on your hips. “That’s it, baby. cum for daddy.”

“I’m cuming daddy, I’m—“ You gripped your knife, taking Chan’s abandoned one before plunging both in his head. His smile dropped, a small and weak, “baby” leaving his sweet lips before spitting up blood on your chest and he fell limp. 

You didn’t stop, however, given the fact that your orgasm had just arrived the mere second Chan tasted metal in his mouth. Your moans could’ve been mistaken for anguish if not for the smile on your savage face. “I’m cumming all over your cock, Daddy, fuck! You’re so good to me, you do so much for me. I love you so much. Hitting my spot even in death.”

The wave of climax finally started to fade, unlike your smile, wretched and demonic. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Daddy. I’ll miss you so much.” You kissed deceased Chan’s lips, coming down from him, and fixing his pants before fixing his pants before pulling your shorts back on your body.

“Y/n…what the fuck?”

Watching you pull the knives out of Chan’s head, Wonwoo's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, struggling to back away as you approached him calmly, almost serenely.

“Chan has served his purpose,” You answered plainly as if obvious. “It was his time.”

“You did that, all that, with him, and you MURDER HIM? Your partner in sick, sick psychotic crime?”

“I told you spice was necessary, plus I’ve grown rather fond of you.” You bent down to his level, eyes noticeably just a deep pit of disparity. “I couldn’t let him kill you, so I beat him to it. Good thing too, because that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Wonwoo whimpered under your touch—well, the knife’s touch—as the tip of it dragged over his jaw, drawing out a shudder. “Y-you’re letting me live?”

Your smile. That damned smile. You and Chan were mere reflections of each other. How had he not seen this sick image sooner?

“As long as it's with me, because you love me right? That’s what you said. You’ll always love me and keep me alive. You promised.”

You pressed the blade against his neck, “You’re cold-blooded. Fucking your dead friend’s girlfriend, leaving your other friends to die to save me, and taking on a mass murderer just for me.” Your other hand caressed over his face. “That’s hard fucking core, baby. I love that so much. You really love and want me. Well, I want you just as bad.”

“Like you wanted Chan?”

You scoffed, using the knife to point at the abandoned soulless body on the ground. “Chan was disposable. He was already fucked up in the brain. I can nurture you, let you prove you’re that you’re mine and only mine. Then I’d have no reason to kill you. Not at all…say you’ll be with me forever.”

“…yes, sweetie. O-of course I will.”

You sighed a breath of relief, your harmless hand coming over to stroke over the stray hairs on his head. “That’s my daddy. My one and only. We can be the finals. Together. Only us—”

“Hello! Wonwoo! Y/n!” Miraculously, Seungcheol found their way to you, barely alive it sounds like.

Rage filled your eyes. “Holy fuck how is he still alive,” you mumbled under your breath. “I’ll take care of him.”

You held the knife to your side, standing by the door and away from its open view. “Cheol! In here! We caught the killer!”

Seungcheol managed to find the defaced door, peeking through the rubble to see a disheveled Wonwoo, panting and close to death. “Wonwoo!”

“Cheol…” Wonwoo grunted. 

“Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“To…your…right.”

You glared at Wonwoo, betrayal in your eyes before launching yourself at the hero, who hardly had a scratch on their body. Seungcheol, taking his friend's warning in consideration, built up a wall of defense. His eyes caught you just in time and held up your arms, pinning you against a wall. His eyes finally registered on your face, and his grip on you only tightened. “Y/n, you evil little bitch.”

You chuckled tauntingly, struggling against his weight and strength. “Hi, Cheol. I know you always wanted to stick something in me, mind letting me do it first?”

“You—wow, you’re actually mentally deranged.”

“You don’t like that? Maybe my knife through your skull can change your mind.”

He kicked you in the groin, having you plummet to your knees, cusses streaming out of you like a river. “You pussy. Ass. Bitch.”

“Seungcheol,” Wonwoo groaned, painfully cheering him on.

You managed to kick Seungcheol down in your distress, crawling on top of him to gain leverage. “I know you liked to be topped.”

You held the knife, hands wrapped tightly around the handle before striking. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s hands were wrapped around your wrists, the tip of the knife tickling his nose. Sweat beaded against his forehead, struggling harder than he thought he would as you smiled still.

“This would be a lot sexier if you let me run my knife inside you, baby.”

“Fuck you and your demented punk ass,” he grunted.

“I would if you’d just FUCKING DIE!”

A gunshot follows soon after and the blood gushed from your neck, pouring from both ends and falling lifelessly against Seungcheol, who let out a shrill scream.

“I found a gun,” Seokmin proclaimed weakly from the door before fainting to the ground.

Seungcheol rolled your body off of him, sick to his stomach. “Sick crazy bitch.”

He looked towards his friend who remained helpless his entire journey before his eyes got caught on the dead body he only realized now. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo whispered.

“And they…”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, dude.”

Seungcheol went around to pick up Seokmin from the ground, grabbing the gun. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s eyes lingered over your body, in disbelief it was alive a mere second ago, then he saw something strange, causing his eyes to fly open. “Cheol behind you!”

Another gunshot. Right between your eyes and your body that stood for hardly a second longer than it should’ve—of course with the knife still in your hand—fell right back on the ground.

“They always come back,” Wonwoo quoted.

Seungcheol let out a deep exhale, loosening his grip around the gun. “And aim for the head.”

“Sorry about your house.”

“…sorry about your girlfriend.”

“Me too.”

post reading a/n: always like me to insert chan into anything fr. i have no excuses

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @smileysuh (felt fucked up not to tag you bc you’re fucked it just like me 💕)

[stringsbasement]

Your art of peri and your Villain AU of him? perfection. I read your twt thread and I'm greedy for more, im so serious like If there was a 100k word fanfic of your au I would read it in a heartbeat!! THATS how much im obsessed with the concept

thank you so much! i didn't expect there to be so much interest in my thoughtless doodles and rambles. luckily, i already have a draft for a rant i formulated about this version of peri's possible motivations, and now i have an excuse to share it!!

also, as a bonus, have this silly doodle :)

[his hairstyle is his attempt to separate himself from his parents, but no matter what he does with it, he can never get it to sit without that stray tuft and curl at the very end.

also, his bowtie is in reference to chloe and my initial art of irep before his design was revealed. the latter almost makes it seem like they "swapped roles."]

the thing is, it's hard to imagine peri as someone purposefully wanting to harm others for his own pleasure. for a "bad" au of peri to occur, he'd have to take after timmy, and seek chaos the same way he did

now, timmy is a good person at heart. his fairies love him, and he loved them in turn. that's undeniable. however, timmy was so stressful he affected cosmo and wandas marriage, and they had to retire right after him to rekindle their love and stop being so awful towards each other. timmy was simultaneously one of the best and worst things to ever happen to them

so it's not that much of a stretch to think he'd affected peri during his development, to the point he unknowingly influenced peri's core beliefs, which he'll carry over later in life

timmy used his fairies to escape from his regular life. he was incredibly reckless, and shirked responsibilities till the consequences got him back tenfold. a dangerous, but fulfilling way of living. he might've mellowed out in the later years, but considering he chose to keep vicky around to purposefully make himself miserable and keep his fairies instead of facing reality, maturity wouldn't be a straight or easy path

peri, adopting this way of thinking, believes the best way to live life is taking risks. ignoring your present problems in favor of escapism. he would insist this upon his godchild, and be blind to the complex nuance of dev's situation

dev's parental neglect differs from timmy's, and thus requires different treatment. but peri doesn't realize that, and dev is a child who cannot comprehend how awful he really has it, let alone communicate it in a way that isn't just lashing out and throwing tantrums

for classic peri, this is an annoyance. for this peri though? he'll enable it, because he thinks dev needs to get it out of his system. like timmy. which is in some way correct, but it's a flawed, only temporary solution

and it's in this way a path of deeper exploration opens up about characters similar to cookie, highlighting how flawed the godparent system can be when a child is assigned a godparent who cannot fulfill what they truly need

starting a ghost apocalypse is nothing compared to the wishes that has been granted before. and, honestly, dev taking viozalia's staff to use against her is a clever move. this peri wouldn't be downtrodden like he was in the original scene, but impressed. he would say as such, and dev, being the emotionally starved 10 year old he is, will soak those words up like a dry sponge

(slightly off topic: i like to think a little quirk this peri would have is, instead of looking to da book of rules for guidance, (cosmo, wanda, and his classic self do this multiple times in the show when in unique situations,) he'd be searching for anything that states what can't he do. "what to do when your god kid tries to start a ghost apocalypse... nothing? sweet!")

this would naturally allow him and dev to bond a little more. even if it's just shit talking other people and how they're totally better than everyone else

it doesn't mean they get along splendidly. dev is still pissed that he can't make the wishes he wants, and peri overcompensates by allowing him to throw himself into situations that just narrowly avoids sanction. because, oh yeah, peri would not appreciate being forced to follow the rules which includes wiping the godchild's memories after the godparent's term has passed

(if anything, he'll find a loophole out of it. he learned from the best, after all)

this is also where peri's spoiled nature would shine through. being offered everything just because he was a baby would make anyone entitled

he and dev are too similar for their own good. they have have access to anything they could ask for, but are unable to get love from one person they want it from. it's almost pitiful

to keep those thoughts out of dev's (and his own) mind, peri resorts to pushing dev out of his comfort zone, which would ordinarily be a good thing, only, he goes way too far to the point of regression

you know, it really doesn't help that dev looks a lot like timmy. i mean, look at them...

that's timmy with slicked back hair and a white jacket. c'mon

but even with all of this, peri doesn't really become a villain. he's antagonistic at most, with his strained relationship with his parents and his help in making things harder for hazel. luckily, the latest episode has given me a few ideas

when peri inevitably comes to care for dev, he'll obviously has to do something about his constant unhappiness. dev has a point in complaining about the fact hazel has two godparents and he only has one, even when his life is "worse" (another unhealthy way of thinking,)

hmmmm. so how can dev have two fairy godparents, and how can peri break da rules without putting himself at risk?

who other than a mirror of peri's own self?

a shift inevitably took place, one where peri became more intense and irep more soft. it's so subtle it goes unnoticed until thousands of years have passed

irep has become timid, soft, and well-meaning. if peri either quits his position or gives way for another slot and puts dev under a sort of split-custody, dev will be able to use anti-fairy magic, which can completely bypass any of the rules regular fairy magic is withholden to

irep will get what he wants as well. in this post, i answered an ask in which i speculate that irep genuinely does want a godchild, and the love and appreciation that comes with it. that much would stay the same for this au

and, well, unlike irep, peri has always been willing to share

this would make way for a bunch of whacky hijinks, potential plots, and new threats. consequences piling up until they become too huge to ignore. not to mention the full implications of a fairy and anti-fairy switching roles. of course, this is just a fun idea i came up with on the spot, and i haven't thought it out too much, so pointing out any plot holes that would come from this is appreciated!

i have more to say, mainly about peri and his parents' initial separation, as well as the parallels that can be found with this version of peri and hazel, but i feel it would be best to end it here :)

thank you for making me write all of this!

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

03 — MY COMPASS, MY TRANSPORT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

“I have nothing else to live for.”

It’s a truth. A deep, earnest one – and it’s the only option you have.

Without Graves, without your Shadows, you have nothing. No income, no family, no support. You're left with the clothes on your body and the shoes in which you stand, with no hope of finding your footing.

In the darkness, the only light shines from the headlights of the truck, and the red of the radio. It’s silenced, of course, but it serves as a beacon of something between you all.

“I don’t – I have no other choice,” you say, voice trembling. You would not break in front of them, but you could feel yourself cracking; porcelain underneath a harsh grip. Turning yourself so you’re completely facing the two, your expression turns desperate. “I want to help you both, and I want to save Phi– Graves.”

You correct yourself at the final moment, wary of your slip up.

“Save ‘im? From what? Feckin’ charges for war crimes? Getting his ass handed to ‘im?” Soap chokes out, incredulous, eyes wide where they meet yours. He winces when he moves forward too quick, straining his arm.

“He’s…” You look down at your hands, merely watching for a moment as they close into a fist and open again. Blood crusts underneath your fingernails. “He’s all I have. I’m sure he just needs a wake up call, someone to snap him out of it.”

“He tried to kill us,” Ghost speaks up, matter-of-fact, but quiet. As if at any moment, his words will wake up the entire city. If there were any civilians left in it, you supposed. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“...And I had to kill some of my men.”

It’s a confession of sin. Like poison on your tongue, yet at the same time, an anecdote to an evil in your veins. You’d killed your men. You’d… done that.

You still haven’t quite allowed yourself to realise it, not yet.

But if it’s enough to keep you alive right now, so be it. You hadn’t gotten this far just to give up over something as inconsequential as pride.

“Ye will tell us everything you know about ‘im. And’ll help us until we figure out what to do. We’re our own bosses now, Sweetheart,” Soap commands, that fucking nickname of his seeming to stick. You don’t dispute it – not right now, not when this is quite literally life or death.

“I promise,” you say, resolute and stern. There was no time for self-pity or wallowing, only time for action and conviction – something you had in spades. “I’m yours for as long as you need me.”

You hadn’t known how true those words would be – not then, and not for a good while. But they were a prophecy, if such a thing could at all be possible for a woman like you.

Soap and Ghost share a look; a brief, yet important one, before Ghost gives the Scot a short nod. Soap turns once more to you, his face betraying the answer of their silent agreement.

“...So?” You suggest, impatient considering the consequences of the next few moments. 

Bringing a hand up to stroke at his stubbled chin, Soap makes an act of pretending to ponder – and it succeeds in stoking the flames at your core, fury burning through you like a liquor-soaked rope.

“I dunno, lass,” he says on a sigh, his ocean eyes betraying a mischief in their depths. “Yer kinda mean to me.”

You might choke him.

Actually, check that, you will choke him. He’s impossible – an arsehole to the nth degree – somehow worse than Ghost in his… foolishness? Was that the right word? Or just straight frustrating-ness?

Seeming to sense your thinning patience, Soap’s hand falls from his jaw with a mirthful smirk, proud of himself. 

“If ye say pretty please, ye can join our lil’ duo.” He finishes the statement off with a wink, and you don’t realise that your hands have curled into fists until the sharp pain of nails digging into your palms force you to resort back to your senses.

You let out a slow, loud breath. 

Neither of them move a muscle, except for the twitch of Soap’s dimple. You hate that you recognise such a small movement, but you easily blame it on the fact that it’s a drilled-in mentality.

“...Please,” you acquiesce, however quiet. 

Ghost’s eyebrow raises. How you’re aware of that, considering his mask, is a props to him. 

“That’s not what he asked for.” His voice is a low, husky thing, and the title of guard dog suddenly doesn’t sound so incorrect.

With your teeth gritted and cheeks straining, you mutter out, “Pretty please.”

Soap’s responding smile is nothing short of beaming, and you almost immediately wish that you could take those words back. Was death really so bad? Would it even be a mercy, compared to deciding to share a threadbare camaraderie with these weirdos?

Too bad time control isn’t exactly a well-researched military weapon.

“Let’s go then,” Ghost slaps his gloved hand against the steering wheel, before looking one last time towards you with purpose, “Sweetheart.”

Soap laughs.

You get out and slam the door in his face.

“Och! You feckin’ bastard, lass,” you hear him screech, before the door opens once more and Soap hops out, fuming.

Turning away, you fall behind Ghost, and quickly take a look around at the vast, empty area that is barren suburbia. Not before responding, however.

“Next time you get shot, I’m not taking care of your ass,” you threaten. “And I’m giving the rest of my sweets to Mr. Melodramatic.”

Soap’s returning mock gasp is, in all fairness, pretty comedic. “You have more sweets? Gimme those and ye lovely bedside manners ‘nd I’ll get a cavity!”

Your returning glare could cut steel. “Keep that up, and you’ll end up with bigger issues than a cavity.”

“I think ye are already the bigger issue,” Soap snaps back, but it’s not inherently malicious. It’s… borderline playful, and that sudden thought has you internally slapping yourself.

“Both of ya – quiet,” Ghost warns.

You both shut up immediately.

With wary steps, the three of you go to step up towards the front door, when Ghost swings out a hand, stopping the lot of you in your tracks. The night doesn’t allow for any of you to see well, but he must’ve picked up something that you hadn’t.

The thought is an immediately terrifying one.

“Pressure plates,” Soap murmurs under his breath, eyeing the square linoleum tile. “Nice catch, Lt.”

Ghost doesn’t respond, instead motioning for you to follow him towards a glassless window. Gravel crunches underneath your light footfalls, easily heard in the deathly quiet, as you move to swing your leg over the access point and drop to the floor inside.

Landing with a soft thud, you go to unfurl from your crouching position, before a loud warning shout from Ghost has you freezing.

Flinching where you stand, your eyes dart to where Ghost has flung one of his daggers, the sharp metal splintering a wooden beam further into the dark room. Realising that Soap sits at your flank, you shift your gaze to spot a red light focused in on his forehead – between his eyes.

“¿Quien esta ahi?” An unfamiliar, accented voice calls out from behind the beam. You could slap yourself for being so careless, in not realising that someone else was in here before Ghost had saved your arses. 

“Rodolfo!” Soap calls out, relief flooding his tone as he rights his position, shoulders back.

A man peeks out from behind the wood, eyes wide and slightly panicked, before they soften at the sight of the two men behind you. “Soap! Ghost! You’re alive!”

Stepping out from around the beam, he reaches for Ghost’s dagger, pulling it away from where it had dug into the oak with undeniable ease. His appearance is striking, with a set jaw and gentle features – he’s quite pretty, but not at all in a way that you find yourself attracted to the man.

“Affirmative,” Ghost responds, accepting the knife back when the man – Rodolfo – hands it to him hilt-first.

“Good to see you, amigos,” Rodolfo smiles, before his appraisal sets on you, confusion sparking in his deep brown eyes. He looks to the two men at your side for an explanation, hesitant in the way he does so.

“This is…” Soap trails off, before coming to a realisation. “Feckin’ hell. I never even asked for yer name, Sweetheart.”

Rodolfo blinks. Once, twice, before his eyebrows furrow and his mouth settles into an uncomfortable grimace.

You shoot a glare Soap’s way, before gifting Rodolfo a polite, yet stilted, smile. Extending your hand, you give him your name, and then your official title.

“Colonel? Graves’ colonel?” Rodolfo repeats back, utterly taken aback by such an introduction. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, quickly hissing to Soap in unamused Spanish, “¿Has perdido la cabeza?”

“I saved his life,” you interrupt, before any verbal sparring begins. “And I’m on your team. I don’t agree with what Graves is doing – and I’m sorry for what he’s already done. But I want to help you. I swear.”

Rodolfo regards you for a moment, his internal walls still heavily locked in place. But he seems… softer, now, in a way. More understanding, maybe, less hesitant as he slowly appraises you, inspecting you under his critical analysis.

The silence stretches, before the soldier raises his hands placatingly, the left side of his mouth twitching into a smooth smirk. “No accusations from me, Corazón,” he reassures, the pet name sliding from his full lips like butter over warm toast.

“Aye, none of tha’,” Soap warns, and Rodolfo’s amusement deepens. Whatever the Scot is about to say next is abruptly stopped by Ghost’s booming demand from behind you both.

“Anyone outside of these walls is now considered a hostile – we’re a team now. This happened under my watch, and I’d bloody well do good to fix it.” His posture is stiff, hand unconsciously flexing around the blade strapped to his belt as he delivers the order. It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one shot.

You figure he’s stopped speaking, when suddenly his heavy gaze is on you, any ounce of solidarity snuffed out like a match’s flame. “You fuck up once, Sweetheart, and I won’t hesitate when I shoot ya dead.”

It’s as good of a compromise as you’re going to get from the hulking Lieutenant, but you weren’t made Colonel for your talents in stepping down.

“You forget that I outrank you,” you challenge, chin raised and eyes flinty. “And that I saved your mutt.”

“We don’t have a feckin’ dog,” Soap starts, but when he sees the way Ghost side eyes him, and how you give him an unimpressed look, his jaw drops. “Ye bastard! Shoulda killed ya –”

Rodolfo’s hand wraps around Soap’s forearm, the grumbling man twisting in his hold, but not putting up anything close to a fight. “She’s just stirring you up, hermano,” Rodolfo placates, his large eyes meeting yours with a hint of respect in them. It has you straightening your spine, and your resolve.

“We sort this out as equals,” you state, folding your arms over your chest and bucking your hip. Ghost doesn’t, for a single second, shift your mutual eye contact. “And you will all tell me what the fuck’s going on – and what we’re doing.”

“Alejandro,” Ghost quips, sharp and to the point. Finally, you think, his near-black eyes drift to Rodolfo. “We need him back.”

“He’s the only other lad we can trust out there,” Soap adds, his pout easing slightly. Rodolfo finally drops his hand, clapping it hard against the petulant man’s shoulder with a firm nod.

“Already got a head start, hermanos,” he gestures for the three of you to follow him further into the room, before his calculating eyes glance back at you, “y hermana.”

It’s an unknown, entirely different feeling that erupts inside of your chest at the inclusion. Rodolfo was clearly the most soft spoken man of the three, but he had an intelligence to him that you couldn’t wait to unpack. And he trusted you. Or so you had gathered, anyway.

However.

First things first.

“...Where’s Alejandro? I thought he was Mexican Special Forces?” It was, admittedly, a unique kind of embarrassing – how out of the loop you felt, considering you were a colonel under Graves’ command. You’d heard the man’s name before, but it was usually just paired with barracks gossip and warnings to steer clear. Some joke about how the only one who could kill Alejandro, was the soldier himself.

Moving along with Rodolfo, you’re surprised when it’s Soap who supplies you the answer.

“Your fuckwit of a Commander’s got ‘im,” he curses, the words grating and harsh. Deserved, of course it was deserved, yet it was still odd hearing such disrespect for the man of whom you’d idolised for so long.

Of whom you’d given everything.

Switching a light on, Rodolfo stops in front of a large table, a map laid out across the top of it. Your eyes go wide at the intricacies – focusing as the man leans over and presses a finger towards a highlighted spot, watching the three of you where you stand on the other side. Dust floats near the source of the lamp, and the scent of grime hits you a moment later, a familiar thing.

“Graves is holding him here,” Rodolfo explains, his previously mischievous expression settling into a firm, military-grade frown.

“His own personal black site prison,” Soap scoffs, subconsciously flexing his fingers around the straps of his vest. His focus is utterly devoted to the map in front of him, but his anxiety shows itself through the tiniest of movements.

Rubbing his spare hand down his face, Rodolfo lets out a long, strewn-out sigh. “My men are locked in there, too.”

“Then let’s get them back,” you supply with a small shrug when all eyes shoot your direction.

“That’s obvious, lass,” Soap says, lacking any hint of his previous vitriol when he looks around the room. “How we get ‘em back is the question.”

“By breaking in,” Ghost answers, the retort as simple as breathing.

If you weren’t so receptive to body movements, to the smallest of expressions, you’d’ve missed it. Even then, you doubted that anyone could miss how Soap’s eyes soften when he looks to his Lieutenant, how his breath softly hitches in his throat.

You want to claw out your eyes with a rusty spoon.

By the look on Rodolfo’s face, he feels much the same – until he catches you staring, and then his face twists into something much more cryptic. Like a man trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces, being forced to jam spares into spots that just won’t fit.

“We need weapons,” you startle out, the words surprising even yourself. You don’t go back on them, don’t even think to. “If we want to stand a fighting chance – we need firepower.”

“Who said you’re with us?” Ghost questions snarkily, but when you go to reply, you find that Rodolfo’s moved to the corner of the room, switching on even more lights, displaying a wrought iron door.

Sliding it open, you feel like a kid on Christmas morning as you take note of the supplies within.

Rodolfo shrugs, but the small, smug grin on his face doesn’t dispel. “It’s well-stocked. This is Ale we’re talking about.”

The affectionate nickname is something you store away for later. ‘Well-stocked’ is certainly an understatement – guns of all types line the walls within the room, all types of bombs and grenades along with it.

“Alright,” Ghost huffs out, the closest to appreciative that a man like him can get.

Soap is much more upfront about his joy. “My man!” He laughs, his dimples etched into his features like the light spattering of freckles over his upper cheeks and nose bridge. “We’re gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armoured.”

Digging into his pocket, Rodolfo pulls out a set of keys, tossing them over to Ghost with relaxed shoulders. Turning, shock must be evident on all of you, because Rodolfo lets out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, hermanos y hermana.”

To the far end of the room, within the adjoined stables, is a fully-armoured forward drive of some sort – sleek and black and fucking perfect.

“Alejandro thought of everything,” Ghost admires, and when you look to him, you swear that you can see a hint of hope shining in his darkened eyes. Your heart skips a beat on its own accord, and you’re absorbed by the all-consuming want to pull it out of your chest with your bare hands, just so it never does such a thing again.

“Yeah, he did,” Soap whistles, before turning back around to face your small band of misfits. With a determined grin, he says as if it’s an afterthought, “Let’s go get ‘im.”

With a stern resolve and an even sterner disposition, you walk alongside your newfound teammates, and get ready for the most difficult mission of your military career.

*

When you’d, stupidly, recklessly, decided to play good guy and helps out the 141 and Los Vaqueros, you hadn’t taken into account how you’d be at the bottom of the totem pole.

While the three men you were working alongside were all considerably close, you were an outsider. At that, an outsider who had, only a few hours ago, decided to swap sides from enemy to ally.

Being paired with Ghost is, arguably, the most gut-wrenching job in your life. By the time that Rodolfo finds Alejandro through the CCTV system, you’re nearly entirely covered in dried blood, and your head thumps with a headache.

Not a headache from war – a headache from the fucking twat with a shitty DIY job for a military get-up.

“You’re seriously the worst,” you grit out, wiping off a bit of Shadow blood that’s been sprayed on your cheek. “I seriously can’t fucking believe that any one of your mates can tolerate you.”

“Who needs ‘mates’ when I have my boys?” Ghost quips back, wiping off his bloody dagger onto his vest, before slotting it back into its rightful position on his belt. His ability to blend into the night, even with the prison lights on, is uncanny – the only tell the white of his stitched-in skull.

You mock a disgusted sound, sticking out your tongue. “You sound like a fuckboy.”

“A what?” And, although it sounds nothing like a choke, you’re sure that it’s an instinctual question.

The sound of a helicopter up ahead has the two of you pausing in your tracks, feud coming to a quick halt. Looking up, you struggle to see the vehicle in the black of night, but you manage to spot the slowly circling heli above the prison.

“Ghost, Sweetheart, what’s yer status?” Soap’s voice trickles in through your comms. Ghost glances at you, before he answers on your behalf, ever the control-freak.

“Comin’ your way.”

Falling into step side-by-side, you focus on the wet gravel underneath your feet, avoiding making any communication with the man to your right.

“Copy. We’re on the move,” Soap replies, before Rodolfo cuts in.

“Heads up on the helo,” he warns. You find that you much prefer him over the other two – in fact, under any other circumstance, you could see the two of you becoming good friends. Maybe, if everything goes well, that could be a possibility – a positive in your world of negatives.

“Don’t think we’re in his line of sight,” you respond, double-checking your route and the helicopter's position in the sky. Rodolfo had warned you all, debriefing in the drive here, that helicopters would likely show up at some point.

Minutes pass, with small comms between the lot of you, when you finally spot the familiar figures belonging to the other half of your precarious team. 

Soap and Rodolfo stand at the entrance, before the two turn at the sound of your and Ghost’s footsteps. They both seem to visibly loosen their stiff shoulders, seeing you both uninjured – and if you do the same, you pray that no one notices.

“The door’s locked,” Soap informs you all, gesturing to the steel entrance5.

With a small hum, Rodolfo reaches for the pack on his vest. “We’ll need to breach it,” he explains, but before he can grab a charger, Ghost raises a hand to stop him.

“No, Rudy –” And that is a nickname that you’ll be using later, “Knock.”

Rodolfo seems apprehensive, but he agrees anyway, giving all three of you separate glances. “On me…”

All of you getting into readying positions, Rodolfo knocks on the door, the sound echoing loud enough to have your blood pounding in your ears.

A moment later, a Shadow – one you don’t recall having met – pushes open the door and moves to step outside. However, Rodolfo and Ghost are quick to neutralise him, softly dropping his body to the floor.

Pushing through the entrance, everyone except for you shoot a Shadow dead – clearing the room in less than twenty seconds. It’s impressive, how smoothly run the operation is, considering the lack of proper authority or guidance.

You’re the first to spot some more Shadows moving your way, down the stairs – calling it out. “More Shadows from the second floor – watch out!”

This time, you find yourself the cause of two men falling to the ground, blood pooling underneath their lifeless bodies. Your team doesn't give you time to second guess, to mourn, before they’re encouraging you to follow them up the stairs.

“Ale’s up here, let’s go!” Rodolfo urges, his voice bordering on a kind of desperation reminiscent of a boy enlisting for the first time.

Like expected, Alejandro’s cell is down the hall, sat to the far right. Two Shadows guard the steel door, but Soap and Rodolfo are quick to light them up, successfully clearing the entire two floors. You’re ashamed of how relieved you feel, being gifted the small mercies of not having to kill your previous subordinates, unless necessary.

You feel, more than see, Ghost’s heavy gaze on you. When you look back up from the gun in your hands, however, he’s turned completely away – and if you were a less accurate person, you’d have thought you were imagining things.

“There’s Alejandro’s cell.” Stopping at the steel door, Rodolfo adjusts his grip on the gun, before giving you an encouraging jerk of his head. “Open it up, me and Soap will cover you.”

Another small mercy, you think, as Ghost reaches into his backpack and pulls out a set of bolt cutters, regarding you stiffly. “When I pop this lock, you push in,” he directs you curtly, and you bite back a retort. You knew the process like the back of your hand – you had no need for an explanation.

The ‘especially from him’ goes unsaid.

With precise, practised movements, Ghost positions the bolt cutters, and pushes open the door.

As soon as you take one step into the cell, a large hand wraps around the back of your neck, slamming your face into the concrete wall, a blinding pain shooting through your retinas. Letting out a small yelp, your chest rattles as your hands wildly raise in an imitation of surrender.

“Alejandro! Let go of ‘er! It’s us!” Soap calls out, and you swallow unhealthy amounts of air. That hit had taken more out of you than you’d expected – and your harsh breaths were making that incredibly apparent.

The grip on the scruff of your neck slackens when Rodolfo shoots off in quickfire Spanish, “Coronel, relájate, cabron, somos nosotros.”

Your cheek aches and your head pounds as the hand removes itself entirely, allowing for you to take in lungfuls of oxygen.

“Soap, Ghost!” Alejandro bursts out, and as you rise to your feet unsteadily, you watch as he thumps both of them on the back of their shoulders, before turning to Rodolfo with an expression that could only be described as longing. “...Rudy.”

“Didn’t think we’d leave ya, did ye?” Soap chuckles, oblivious to the thread of tension between the two men. 

Whatever silent conversation had occured between the two enforcers is quickly cut as Alejandro accepts the shake of Soap’s hand, a feral grin wide on his features. “What took you so long, pendejos?”

“A traitor with an attitude is what,” Ghost inputs, and really, how much self control can a Lieutenant lack? Wiping at your cheek, you let your hand fall once more to your side as you meet Alejandro’s inquisitive gaze head-on.

“I’m Graves’ previous colonel,” you extend your hand, “And I’m your best bet at getting your base back.”

You expect suspicion, uproar, maybe – or at least questioning, similar to that of Rodolfo’s.

Instead, all you’re met with is Alejandro’s manic smile sharpening, and a slap on the back of your own. Ruffling your hair, he uses his free hand to accept the gun Rodolfo’s extending towards him, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Sounds good, hermana. Welcome to how real men fight.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re

[777sturn]

𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝜗𝜚 chris sturniolo

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉. . . chris is your dealer and strictly that. but what happens when both of you get too high?

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 dealer!chris x fem!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈(𝒔) mature language, suggestive, little smut, drug usage/mention (weed), smoking, rough make out sesh, pet names (princess) boob play, hickies, high

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 hey cuties! this is kinda inspired by the fanfic nervous by louis-core on wattpad and that one sceneee (iykyk) AND the song me and your mama by childish gambinooo 😊 this was so silly to write ENJOYYYY

im in love when we are smokin’ that la-la-la-la-la

it was late at night, probably around midnight. the moonlight shone down, casting a pearlescent light on everything it touched, but it was still dark enough to see nothing. you were currently waiting for chris at your guys spot, a random park that children would play at earlier in the days. you were sat on the sidewalk, facing the play structure that hasn’t been touched since probably 9 in the morning.

you had texted him a couple hours ago for weed since you had just ran out earlier and was currently craving it. you and chris weren’t anything. he was just your dealer— nothing else. not even friends but not strangers. despite being nothing, you guys would have those late night talks at the park, just talking about random shit. and i mean random shit— some conversations could be really deep and others could be random.

“hey,” chris greeted, gently kicking your lower back as he snuck up behind you.

“holy shit!” you turn around, startled. you roll your eyes and glare up at chris, “god, you scared me.”

a small smirk of satisfaction played at his lips as he successfully scared you, “pussy.” he mutters.

he then took his hand out of his pocket, holding up a plastic bag of your prized possession. your eyes light up and a smile appears on your face, “thanks.” you hum out, taking the bag from him, “how much?”

“on me today,” chris mumbles, sitting beside you. he runs his fingers through his brown hair and sets his backpack in front of him, “you sounded like you needed it bad, so i brought the shit.” he unzips the bag, revealing a grinder, some rolling paper, and a blue lighter.

“you’re sweet today.” you mutter, watching him take everything out, “i wasnt expecting you to smoke with me.”

he shrugs and scoffs, “don’t think about it. you’re paying me full next time.”

“yeah yeah.” you roll your eyes, adjusting your position so you were now sitting criss-cross apple sauce. you slowly open the plastic bag of weed, immediately feeling at ease as you carefully put it into the grinder.

chris’ eyes widen slightly, “you need help?” he teased, leaning back and propping his body up with his elbows.

you shoot him a glare, grinding the weed slowly, “uhm no. im capable.” you turn back to it before speaking again, “hybrid?”

“hybrid.” he confirms.

you hum in response as you finish grinding it. the rolling paper was out infront of you as you carefully placed it on it, making sure to not spill it on the concrete. the moonlight helped you to see as your gently rolled it up. you picked it up and brought it to your lips, your tongue slowly darting out as you glided it along the paper to seal it.

chris nods in amusement, lazily having his hand out as he signaled you to pass it to him. when you give it to him, he inspects it and a proud smirk painted his lips, “atta girl.” he mumbles.

“told you.” you smile, handing him the lighter, “first hit.”

chris brings the joint to his lips, flicking it to create a spark. he takes a slow drag before exhaling and throwing his head back, enjoying the feeling, “fuck.” he lets out a low chuckle before passing it you.

you smile as you notice the euphoric feeling immediately hitting chris. you take a slow drag yourself, the feeling you once craved was now settling down as the high kicked in. you mirror chris’ position beside him. as you exhale, you cough a little and chris turns to you with glossy eyes.

“you suck.” he teased, taking the joint back, “this is how it’s done.”

you give him a look as your mind began to get hazy despite only having one. he brings it to his lips once again, this time taking a longer drag. instead of exhaling, he holds the smoke in his mouth and turns to hover over you. it felt like the world just stopped when he brought his hand to gently cup your face and tilt it more up.

your eyes meet his icy and glossy eyes as his thumb carefully pulled your bottom lip down, causing your lips to part a little. he moved his head closer to yours, his lips brushed against yours for a split second before he exhales the smoke slowly into your mouth. your eyes widen as he gives you the smoke and moves away so he could watch you blow it out. as you do he nods again proudly, “cool huh?” his voice was raspier then usual with a hint of sultry.

you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as that intimate moment replayed in your head in 2x speed, “yeah.” you whisper.

“your turn.” chris smirked, handing the blunt to you once again, “you got it.” he thens pats his lap, gesturing you to sit down.

your eyes widen more and your cheeks flush a tint of pink, “uhm what?”

“i don’t bite.” he scoffs, patting his lap once again.

you press your lips together as you crawl into his lap. he nods approvingly as his right hand landed on your waist and his left on your upper thigh. even though you two were completely out of it, you were still able to get a good look at him because of how close you were. the moonlight accentuated his cheekbones and the blue in his eyes.

he gently squeezed your thigh to get your attention, “focus, princess.” the nickname and sudden squeeze quickly snapped you back in reality as you were literally caught staring at him.

“right.” you mutter, feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks once again. you remember all the steps that chris did, following his lead.

he slowly started tracing patterns on your soft skin, “now come close and exhale okay?” he mumbles, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear.

you nod as you kept the smoke enclosed in your mouth. you do the same steps, cupping his face, pull down his bottom lip, and exhale. you move out of the way so he could blow out the smoke.

chris gives your thigh a light slap as he watched it evaporate in the air, “you’re a natural.”

you smile softly, “thanks.” now it was for certain you guys were out of it and the euphoric feeling kicked in at the right time.

his hands gripped onto your waist much tighter for a split second. he then moved his head towards your ear and whispered, “lets do that without the weed, yeah?” he suggested, his breath gently brushed along your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

he pulls away to read your expression. your face was beat red at his words, “what?” you whisper softly. of course you didn’t mind, you wanted to kiss him but hearing those words outloud didn’t seem real.

chris smirked, giving your waist yet another squeeze, “a kiss princess.”

“i know,” you whisper again, “are you sure?”

“even though we’re high as fuck,” he mutters, “i mean everything i say right now.” his right hand cupped your face, pulling you closer, “its harmless.” he says against your lips.

you place your hands at the back of his neck, your pointer finger slowly intertwined with the silver chain that adorned his neck as a way to allow him. his soft lips met yours and you instantly melted at his touch. you needed more and more at that moment.

his hands traveled back to the curves of your waist, pulling you closer and closer if that was even possible. he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for more.

you open your mouth ever so slightly as you tilt your head, allowing him. he slides his tongue in, exploring every inch of you and tasting you. he was automatically addicted. he loved the taste of the little weed that lingered on your tongue and the way your soft moans were like music to his ears. you were a drug he didnt know he needed.

your fingers got caught in his hair as you deepened the kiss, craving more. he groaned as you gently tugged his messy hair, the sound vibrated through your body causing every hair on your back to stick straight up. his tongue continued to swirl against yours, occasionally tugging and nibbling on your bottom lip.

he pulled away and quickly resumed the sloppy and messy kisses from your jawline all the way down to your neck, gently sucking and nipping at your sensitive spot. you tilt your head back giving him more access and gripped onto his hair tighter as he got rougher with the love bites. he groaned against your skin and continued to suck harder creating a red fresh bruise before soothing it with his tongue. another quiet moan escaped your lips as his hands went up your hoodie.

the things he would do right now to you were insane— the only thing that was stopping him was how you two were in a public park in the middle of the night. he lifts up his head from the crook of your neck smiling as he admired his work. your gaze focuses back on him as your chest rose up and down, trying to catch your breath. your hands were still tangled in his hair.

“you’re pretty good at that too.” he mutters, his hands tracing to the front of your body as he slides them under your hoodie once again. they meet your breasts before giving your nipples a light pinch, “im fucking addicted,”

another moan escapes your mouth at his action. he shakes his head and sighs, “quiet princess.” he murmurs, squeezing your tits once more.

you let in a shaky breath and pull your bottom in between your teeth as he continues to massage them, switching paces from rough to gentle.

“you dont gotta pay me for weed anymore.” he smirks, rolling your nipples with his thumbs.

“what?” you whisper, shakily as you look at him.

“we just gotta make out everytime now,” he chuckles lowly, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead, “that’s the payment.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

hello I hope ur request are open! If not be free to ignore this!! Okay so TADC x y/n? (The amazing digital circus also it can be muti characters or one!! The choice is yours!! ^ ^)

OKAY OKAY SO WHAT IF..🥁🥁🥁 y/n was like Jessica rabbit from "who framed roger rabbit" 👀 and was very like motherly to everyone but when she was called doll,/toots,/ect, by jax or anyone SHE WOULD PUNCH THEM HARDDDD (kinda like the lola bunny fanfic??) Also she is like one inch taller then jax (she a tall women👀❤️)

(HAVE FUN WITH THIS IDEA!! DONT RUSH YOURSELF TO DO IT TAKE UR TIME ON IT!! AND DRINKS LOTS OF WATER AND EAT FOOD!! HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY/NIGHT!!🫶🫶)

Digital Circus x a jessica rabbit-type reader!

since im a little melty brain from blasting through a bunch of requests today im going to do part of the cast! mostly characters i think would be interesting with this kind of reader as well as some characters i just wanna write more of (cough cough kinger cough cough)(i was originally going to do gangle as well but uhuh!!) ...this reminds me ive never watched who framed roger rabbit... or rather i have, but its been so long that ive truly forgotten nearly every aspect of the movie relying on the character wiki talking about her personality to guide me through this

CAINE:

caines and jax's parts are both likely going to be on the shorter side thanks to both of their cores holding similar themes in regards to half of the idea

anyways he's going to call you pet names, especially if he's interested in you.. good luck trying to land anything on him, though, he's going to easily zoom through the air

okay nod to the lola bunny request aside, i think caine would be just head (jaw?) over heels for you, i mean, he would be anyways, but something about your caring and quick witted personality

probably makes literal heart eyes at you and audibly goes "awooga"

absolutely loves watching you do your thing during the in house adventures, on the few times he actually spectates them; though you may or may not be the reason he watches

seems like the kind of person to call you "hot stuff" or "babe"

doesn't really care about the height difference since he rarely ever stands on the ground anyways, plus he doesn't care how small he is

JAX:

to get a good idea of how jax would interact with you, i recommend this similar post! hope this links correctly, im still new to linking stuff in my posts!!

a lot of elements from the post above bleed into this, but lets add some more to it to make it a little more unique to the jessica rabbit idea!

takes it upon himself to try to get some sort of reaction out of you, outside of the name stuff... which proves to be a little harder than he thought.. actually, oddly enough, you seem to enjoy his antics?

well thats certainly new to him...

aaaaaand oh! hey would you look at that you've officially caught his attention, congratulations!

does not take too kindly to being the new second tallest, though... sure you're barely taller than him but its the principle! how can he lord his height over everyone else now!

KINGER:

so here's where i may be biased since i love kinger and i wish more people wrote for him, so his part may be a little longer, we'll see! i write these lil notes as i work on the post

right away i dont think he would call you any of the petnames listed above, or anything similar. i think, should you guys get on a nickname basis he would call you sweeter ones, "my love," "my darling", "my sweetheart", and similar stuff!

does not have lightning reflexes like jax and caine but if the names genuinely do bother you he would likely stop, you'll just have to remind him

imma be so real this man needs someone to stand back and just be there for him because he is going through it, so to have someone in his corner who has his best interests at heart will really do a lot for him

no comment on the height difference since kinger is pretty tall himself (and hes taller than jax! the only reason jax isnt upset about that is because kinger is always hunched), but i dont think he gives a darn about height

i am once again thinking about the in house adventure prompt with kinger that i had earlier, where he gets stuck somewhere and you have to go rescue him... this + that prompt, JUMPS UP N DOWN

[yonpote]

its still an hour left for the us east coast until Thing Day. not to get mushy but like, im happy they got to meet on this day cuz it spawned ALL OF THIS. that one meeting, that one youtube comment, that one twitter reply, led to this massive, insane, and at the core, extremely loving and caring community! its so wild how dan becoming fixated on this one youtuber and phil finding himself charmed by this guy in return, it led to all of this. the art and stories and edits and projects and fundraising events and deeper connections beyond the youtubers we like, its why i prefer calling us a Community over a Fandom. like we are a fandom but moreso we kind of have our own weird little ecosystem thats infinitely interesting in its own right and yet centering these two... "Just Some Guys"-ass guys! like they are regular ass people but thats kinda why we love them so much right? especially now, they are so themselves and even when they were closeted they always championed and identified with people who were a little different, who were outcasts, like no wonder we find so much comfort in them!

and its just this incredible thing where they are in turn comfortable with us and they've become one of us or maybe they've always been one of us, literally phil having been a yaoi fanfic writer in his youth LOL but seriously!! i cannot think of a single creator who is at dan and phil's level of popularity and yet always stayed down-to-earth and felt like a PART of us, and more specifically, enjoys being inundated with our culture as fans! we joke that they stalk us but honestly it's cuz they are interested in the shit we post and talk about and they think we are interesting and funny people enough that some of yalls tweets show up directly on their feed. i dont know ANYONE who has this sort of willing interaction with even the admittedly weirder side of fans and fandom culture who isn't doing it in some tongue-in-cheek "we actually think youre all cringe" way. they GET us in a way you dont often see with creators as big as dnp.

anyway love is love i hope their kiss is broadcasted live in an mcr fan's instagram livestream <3

[freakspectors]

PAPER SOLDIER.

A Fyodor Dostoyevsky | BSD x Female Reader x Dazai Osamu | BSD Smut Fanfic.

warnings ; smut, pussy slapping, fingering, threesomes, degradation, biting, praise if you squint, orgasm denial if you get a magnifying glass, not proof-read.

author's note ; hihi !! sorry for my absence, im getting ready for school next week, and my birthday was this weekend :) im working on a fic that was dedicated to myself rn, so have this tiny fic. enjoy! funfact: all my fic titles are songs that i like ;p !

“Look at her, clenching around nothing. Pathetic, is it not?”

Dazai and Fyodor laughed with each other, degrading you as if  you weren’t right in front of them. You knew not to speak unless spoken to, afraid of the punishment that would ensue if you had. After the two radiant men in front of you finished joking about your neediness, the Russian knelt down between your shaking legs.

“Do tell, Moya lyubov, how bad do you crave to have both of us inside of you?” he asked. Fyodor caressed your thighs, his breath fanning against your warm, sticky core. Instead of answering, you scoot yourself towards the demon's mouth, begging to have his tongue ravage you.

Disappointed, Fyodor pulls away from your legs and sits on his knees, giving you an insincere frown. You looked at the raven haired man confused, unsure of where Dazai went or why he was upset with you. Before you could even process he was now beside you, the brunette man’s hand smacked down on your cunt, making you jolt and yelp.

“We don’t want to do this, Bella. You’ve been such a good girl until now—” Dazai murmured. Using his middle and ring finger, he spreads you open, shooting a wicked smile at Fyodor; which he returns to him.

“—But you hadn’t answered my question. Disobeying orders results in a punishment; I thought you knew that well,” the rat keened. As if he read his mind, Dazai removed his fingers from your pussy and gave it another rough slap. Tears started to form; but all the two men did was chuckle.

“Wanna give it another go, hun?” the detective asked. He kissed your shoulder, resting his free hand on the other to massage you. “Maybe Fyodor’ll give you another chance..”

“Oh, but her teary, desperate eyes are gorgeous..”

“Indeed. But I’m sure she’s ready to redeem herself.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want to fuck her?”

“So what if I do? If you didn’t want to as well, you wouldn’t be here,” Dazai teased. Listening to them bicker over you only made you wetter, which hadn’t gone unnoticed.

With a hum, Dazai kissed your cheek and slid his fingers back through your slit. You moaned, arching your back at the sudden pleasure. He moved his digits up, rubbing tight circles on your sensitive clit. “C’mon, baby. Answer his question,” he whispered.

Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Fyodor back between your legs, kissing and biting the inside of your thighs. Just the sight of him and Dazai’s fingers could make you cum, but another punishment is the last thing you want. You open your mouth to speak; but a whine leaves your throat instead.

“You’re not fucked dumb already, are you?” the Russian questioned. “We’ve barely even started, kukla.”

“It’s just a few words, belladonna,” Dazai said. His fingers dove inside you, slowly pistoning them in and out of you, “say what he wants, and we’ll make you feel amazing.”

“Here, I’ll even ask you again:” Fyodor starts, “how bad do you crave to have both of us inside of you?”

“S-So bad.. I need both of you to fill me up..” you mumble. Fyodor tutted you and shook his head with another frown. Sighing with dissatisfaction, the brunette pulled his fingers out of you. The tears that were in your eyes finally fell, hot salty streaks going down your cheeks.

“I’m afraid you need to be louder, darling. Just a little more, I swear to you,” the rat said. Dazai shushed you and wiped your tears while Fyodor kissed and nibbled on your thighs like a mouse with cheese. He always got so close to your quivering pussy, yet pulled away each time he did. “Go on, love.”

“So bad, Fyodor.. I-I need the both of you to cum inside me s-so much I pass out..”

“See, was that so hard?” Dazai teased, a punchable smile plastered on his face. If you weren’t in your current situation, you’d glare at him.

“Khoroshaya rabota, moya dorogaya,” Fyodor praised. “Now, get on your hands and knees..”

“It’s time for your reward.” 

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .

[newtkive]

pixels [ newt x reader - modern text au ]

ch. 2 - drama queen core

summary: minho's drama finally catches up with him, but newt becomes a hero.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

__

THE GLADE

[ 12:08 PM ]

y/n: gm pookies

newt: it’s the afternoon.

y/n: yeah well

ur east coast

newt: so are you y/n

y/n: FINE BAD MORNING THEN ARE U HAPPY?

minho: drama queen is awake

newt: you’re the drama queen min let’s be fr

minho: u want me to die be honest

newt: see .

tommy: hey guys :3 been waiting for you all

y/n: awwww tommy <3 gm

tommy: morning sweetums

minho: ew stop

newt: how did you sleep?

tommy: good! used my new heated pillow

newt: not you

minho: not you

tommy: wtf

WHO THEN?? THERES LIKE 7 OTHER PPL IN HERE

minho: he means y/n

and there’s 4 other people not including newt and y/n dumbass

y/n: oh

why just me????

newt: cuz you stayed up til 6 am

y/n: ..

how do you know that

newt: i saw you were active on discord

gally: doesn’t that mean you were awake too then

newt: ok and?

minho: thats crazy newt

newt: no it isn’t

i just casually saw it

y/n: hehe

im ok i need to sleep more. sims 4 was really consuming me

why were you awake??

newt: up for work

minho: you get on discord before work?

chronically online..

newt: can you choke and pass out and hit your head please

minho: THE WAY U WANT ME DEAD IS INSANE

y/n: he’s gotta check on his discord hoes before hitting the grind

newt: there are no discord hoes

unless you count thomas

and i don’t

tommy: well why not

newt: because you disgust me

tommy: love u too :3<3

minho: y’all about to kiss aren’t you

newt: never say that shit again im outside your door with a b*mb

minho: why censor it

just blow me up it’s my grandmas house anyway. u want to jump her that bad????

gally: blow that bitch up i say

y/n: HELLO???!,!!

gally: minho not grandma

she loves me cuz im so tall

minho: tall people always gotta remind you they’re tall 😒

like we get it bigfoot

gally: shut up tinkerbell

y/n: you’re somewhat tall minho

minho: any man under 6’0 is considered short

y/n: yeah but newt is 6 ft trapped in a 5’10 body so not totally true

newt: what does that even mean

minho: give me a break

i can tell you exactly what that means

she wanna hit

newt: stop

tommy: don’t get his hopes up

newt: dude

stfu

y/n: what newt said

gally: can we appreciate the only one actually over 6 ft here

minho: no.

tommy: im the same height as newt!!!!

y/n: yea but ur like 3 ft trapped in a 5’10 body tommy not the same

tommy: oh ..

minho: kind of real

newt: can someone kick gally i’m tired of seeing his fucking name on my phone

gally: then turn your phone off don’t you have old ladies to tend to at the library

newt: yeah and they all love me

y/n: so real

if i was old i’d go in there and imagine you’re my young boyfriend and cling to everything u say

tommy: true im the old ladies

y/n: LMAO

minho: write a fanfic y/n why don’t you

newt: yeah you both are old and not beating the dementia allegations

y/n: IM THE YOUNGEST HERE

ur just mad you’re old as dirt

tommy: youth has left you newt and it has turn you bitter in your old age.

minho: thomas knows big words who knew

newt: which word in that sentence was big??

y/n: shut up minho

minho: wtf did i do

y/n: idk but i imagine you sitting there typing on your little phone and i got pissed

minho: WHAT???!.‘wKWHFO

newt: LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

yeah chubby little fingers hitting the wrong letters on his iphone 8

minho: im leaving

tommy: dont leave i forgive you for what you said

minho: i don’t give a damn

y’all mad y’all are all fake im the realest i’ve been prophesizing and reading scriptures 7000 years before y’all fake asses were born be so for real right now

y/n: not reading that

congrats

or sorry for what happened idk

about to drink my coffee in a wine glass

tommy: just drink wine

newt: it’s noon tommy??

tommy: ok and?

newt: explains a lot

minho: no coffee for me this new year only water and pussy juice fr fr

[ newt removed minho from the group ]

tommy: woah

y/n: woah..

newt: i can’t take it anymore

alby: How did you get that access..?

newt: don’t worry about it

in times of need i have to step in like that

y/n: hi alby!

alby: Hey y/n!

tommy: you’re such a hero newt

gally: that was deserved

who wants to play minecraft rn

y/n: me!!

alby: I’ll play, I’m off work today.

y/n: let’s go to the desert i want a camel

gally: alright but then the caves after i wanna mine

newt: if you mine with her you gotta bring extra food and storage when she dies so you can pick up the fallen items

gally: i forget you’re her designated babysitter

y/n: oh please no he isn’t

and i’ll bring my own food

newt: you always say that and then leave it in the stove oven

y/n: WELL I WONT THIS TIME

newt: sure ok

i’ll get on after work

[ alby added minho to the group ]

minho: when i get you.

newt: why did you add him back alby

alby: He was harassing me.

newt: be a man and take it

gally: im leaving

[ gally left the group ]

minho: im going to throw up and die

newt: im staying out of this

minho: (guy who caused it) im staying out of this

y/n: why does gally alwyas leave 😔

newt: why question a gift from the heavens

tommy: get online y/n gally is attacking my dirt house w a pickaxe :((((

y/n: NO IM COMING

minho: im coming to your work newt

newt: okay im locking the door early then

minho: i’ll smash through the glass idc

newt: i’m leaving my shift is over at 1 today.

minho: i’ll use life360 on you

newt: i deleted that app

minho: i’ll stand in the middle of the street

newt: ok let me position my car in front of you

just come to my apartment and we can play w them on pc and xbox

minho: …. fine but i hate your guts

newt: fine

y/n: HURRY GALLY IS ATTACKING MY SHED NOOOOWWW

newt: i’ll just rebuild it

minho: i’ll set it on fire just wait

[tunamayojazz]

Love your art, any Toge/Yuuta fanfic recommendations? Thanks so much!!

hi!! thank you so much...🥺🩷🩷 and i am SO glad you asked this. i have so many!! here are the ones i read/reread more recently along with some of the tags. tried to make every rec here different from each other hehe have fun reading!!! can't help it (if you look like an angel) by glimmiks (12.4k)

tags: college au, friends to lovers, mutual pining, IKEA

THIS WAS SO FUN TO READ PLEASEEEE i absolutely love college aus so much. and you just know the 2nd years would be the most fun and chaotic as college students. their dynamic is just chefs KISS, and it's written so well here. the mutual pining in here is truly a 10-course meal and i always go back for another round.

i'm alright if you're alright by anonymous (14.2k)

tags: spoilers up to ch146, fluff, hurt/comfort, injury recovery, fix-it, love confessions, pining

post-shibuya fic excellence. i always have such a great time reading this like inuokkos really do eat so well in this fandom. yuta pining is always so great to read like he is Longingly thinking about toge at all times im cry

Magnificently Cursed by diggingupthegrave (91.2k)

tags: dark academia, magic au, magic school au, slow burn, angst, mutual pining

i will always always recommend diggingupthegrave fics. they are easily my favorite inuokko writer pls you have to read all their inuokko fics...i saved this particular one of theirs to read for much later bc i knew it was going to change my life (7 chapters ok) and boy did it do exactly that. the way they implemented canon elements into a magic setting was so so brillaint and i savored every bit of it.

Beat the Turtle Drum by CasuallyScreaming (7.4k) tags: major character death, post-shibuya incident arc, angst, minimal comfort, no shibuya spoilers read this before sleeping the other night and honestly how i managed to still fall asleep after was my body trying to protect me from full out bawling and having a mental breakdown...i don't think i've read a lot of MCD inuokko but god this one shook me to my core. almost like the feeling of loss and grief were bleeding through my phone screen. so well written and while it's definitely mostly painful, the ending....well you'll find out :')

a special occasion by Cheshire (2.5k) tags: idiots in love, established relationship, first dates this was so so cute...!!!!!!! panda: but aren't you two already dating? yuta: well yes! no. sorta, kinda. super cozy and fluffy read!!

is this how every day begins? by mitgi (5.4k) tags: roommates, living together, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst i will always love me a roommate au. this fic was such a lovely read and i'm actually going to reread this right after i finish writing this! there's so much to explore in inuokko's relationship and also when it's in different settings. every time i think about how the actual source material are literal crumbs, i'm just even more amazed by how writers are able to draw out the most of what info we have and write their mannerisms so well. it all feels right and so WARM UOGHHHHH

haunted by sieling_fan (3.3k)

tags: pining, hurt/comfort, canon typical angst, character study

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

you showed up just in time by diggingupthegrave (14.6k)

tags: time travel, friends to lovers, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, slight age gap

another diggingupthegrave fic that had me crying screaming shaking throwing up because god. this was so so good. the build up had me at the edge of my seat bc like oh my god what happened? what's happening?? why is this like that? @#$%^&*()_!!!!!!!!!!!!! and when it's all pieced together? oh it ended me. read this again and again for DAYS you would think i was researching it for a thesis or something. take your time reading this btw like im so serious.

okie that's all for me from now, i have so many more to rec honestly....sending out 100000000000 hearts to inuokko writers you are my roman empire....

[red-velvet-0w0]

okay masterpost for my current plans for my post-finale Murder Drones AU:

N x Uzi x V are together because i love them and they deserve each other

Uzis tail now has 3 personalities it switches between, that being Cyn, Doll, and Tessa (the idea being that when cyn ate dolls core and took tessas body she kept part of their memories and personalities) they are mostly hostile towards Uzi, but help her out when its to their advantage. also every tail personality has access to their own unique skill they give access to, such as cyn helping create holograms, doll letting her teleport, and tessa helping her fake being human to sensors

the main gang keep The Red Sentinel and The Key around as pets

Ghost Doll (this one is kinda complicated). so you know how in the credits of episode 8, theres that one frame of what looks like doll roaming the school but shes a sillouete with glowing red eyes? I know it was probably just meant as a reference to episode 3, but in this AU im making it so that when doll died, she tried to teleport away, but because she was killed halfway, theres now this thing that is almost doll just sorta teleporting around. its extremely unstable and cant exist in one place for very long, but sorta just acts as a mindless killer with much the same powers and abilities that the origional doll had, just without any of the inteligence or planning

Alice x J. basicaly J gets cut off from her connection from the solver due to Uzi taking control of the solver, and is heavily injured after the episode 8 fight, but is found by Alice, who managed to rebuild herself with spare parts after the sentinel attack, and the two of them begrudgingly agree to team up to try and fix up the ship and escape the planet, eventualy growing closer. along the way, they decide to try and rob the bunker for supplies to fix the ship, and come into conflict with the main gang.

I still have a lot of things i need to work out, and though i think it would be more focus on slice of life style things with the drama and fights being rarer, I do kinda want to have a bigger central antagonist, but for now im just playing around with ideas (if any who see this have any ideas youd like to add im all ears)

not sure if I will actualy ever do anything with this AU (i have a terrible track record with starting and especialy finishing projects) and even if i did im still not sure if i would make it a fanfic or a comic or what (i have made an AU comic before but i dropped it after like 5 pages because i was tired and gave up and its really old please dont look at it), and plus im really busy at the moment, so if i were to actualy make anything it probably wouldnt be until the new year that I would really be able to get much done but well see