#it feels like my brains is screaming lies at me and it only gets worse the longer the day goes on

[bambiraptorx]

sometimes i wish my brain had a fucking off switch

[sukumna]

₊˚⊹ desc. gojo and his girlfriend discover a new kink while play fighting.

triggers. fem!reader. cnc. rough sex. creampie. full nelson. choking. play fighting. degredation. established relationship. mdni

authors note. for my girl @dayndream. this had a lil plot but i didn’t like it and so its jus smut now xoxoxo

“i love fight club. swear i’d be the best boxer,” gojo murmurs into your neck as the credits roll.

“i could beat you in a fight,” you tease.

he scoffs into your neck and you try to tackle him into the soft blankets, but he barely moves. you huff and try again. nothing. he raises a brow at you like you’re cute. you grab his arm. and before he can stop you, you straddle his waist and start tickling him.

he tenses up—then laughs.

you squeeze harder.

“you wanna play this game with me?” he flips you without any struggle, and suddenly your wrists are pinned above your head. his legs hold yours shut.

“wait no—toru, i was just playing—”

“nah,” he grins, staring down at you. “i don’t believe you. think i should get my revenge now.”

his fingers trail down towards your armpit. you writhe beneath him, squealing out a drawn-out noooo, but it only makes him grip tighter. somehow you break your legs free and start kicking.

“playing dirty now?” he laughs. but when your knee catches his stomach, he jumps, falling heavy on top of you.

you shove at his shoulders, high on adrenaline. he lifts up—just barely—and you scream, twist, turn on your stomach, and try to crawl away.

you almost make it.

then—

you feel him tackle you again, this time with one hand pressing into your lower back, the other closing gently but firmly around your throat.

“dirty girl,” he pants, breathless but smiling. though something darker slips into his voice, something that makes your thighs clench and your heart speed up. “you like hurting me? like running from me?”

his teeth skim your skin. just enough pressure to warn. not enough to mark.

not yet.

but he wants to. you can feel it in the way he holds you down, in the stiff press of his cock grinding into your ass.

you buck back into him, gasping. he’s so fucking hard.

“kneed me in the stomach, and now you think rubbing up on my cock’s gonna make it all better?”

“don’t want your cock,” you lie, pushing at him.

that only makes it worse. the friction, the heat—your shorts ride up and his cock is lined up perfectly. he grabs your leg and roughly moves it out of his way, slotting himself between your legs.

“keep lying, baby,” he growls, voice full of grit and promise. “see what it gets you.”

you kick again.

he groans.

then he’s pressing his cock right against your slit, like he’s going to fuck you through the thin cotton of your shorts. he yanks them down.

“no—!”

you try to lift your head. gojo slaps your ass hard and pushes your face right back into the bed.

“aww, come on, baby. it’s only right i use this sweet pussy.”

he spreads your folds with the thick head of his cock, rubbing around your clit before teasing your entrance.

��so fuckin’ wet.”

he slaps your pussy with his cock, laughing when your hips buck.

“don’t—”

he cuts you off with one hand squeezing your throat, just right. enough pressure to make your brain float, your cunt pulse. you moan into the mattress.

“look at you,” he coos. “my sweet girl likes bein’ treated like a slut in bed. who would’ve guessed.”

his cock slides in with one brutal thrust. you scream into the blanket. if you weren’t dripping, it’d hurt too much—but it just hurts enough.

you clench around him.

gojo takes that as an invitation. he starts pounding into you, rough and fast, hips smacking your ass like it’s punishment.

“toru—n-no more…it’s t-too much,” you sob.

“need it s’bad, baby. feels so fuckin’ good.”

he grunts into your ear, still fucking you like it’s the last time. your eyes blur.

then he’s lifting you, flipping you onto his chest without pulling out. he lies flat, holding your legs up by your knees, folding you down. his cock never leaves your soaked hole.

he hooks his fingers into your cheeks next, forcing your mouth open.

his hips slam up into your ass. over and over.

all you can do is choke on your own spit and moan.

“mmh, g-gonna cum,” you whimper, eyes rolling back. “don’t stop, toru—”

you cream all over his cock, squeezing him so tight he has to bite his lip.

“fuck,” he hisses. he holds your head still now, makes you watch as his cock twitches inside you, thick and deep, stuffing you full.

“so good for me,” he groans. “s’full of my cum. pretty pussy just drinks it up.”

[justcruisingaroundrevived]

The yandere Pete love letter was SO GOOD!!! Could you please do Jerry or Bill next? ❤️❤️❤️

This Invasion Makes Me Feel Worthless, Hopeless, Sick

Summary: You’re infecting Bill’s mind…and he hates it

Word count: 990

TW/CW: Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, stalking, implied wet dreams, mixed signals,

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! This was so fun to do (cause I think Bill’s love letter would be very, VERY stalkerish)

Reblogs are appreciated!

I keep seeing you in the halls, you know? It’s weird. All of my life, normies have been in the background of my life. Still remember the time I lost my Superman cape on Halloween cause fucking Brad and his bullies tore it up and hung me up in the tree. My mom had to get me down, and she scolded me! Saying I care too much about those “childish” hobbies and “You should just grow up”. What the fuck does she know? Only started to act like this when it was clear my dad’s late night leaving meant she was stuck with a parasite.

Don’t get me wrong; you’re exactly like that. Noticed you in my math class, being over excited to answer the questions and anxiously looking at your notebook while taking notes. You know, you shouldn’t even be in calculus if you’re so nervous?! At least when I read my comics in class and the teacher calls me out, I can answer confidently. At least I CAN GET THE FUCKING ANSWER RIGHT?!

Whatever. The point being that you don’t stand out to me, or at least you shouldn’t. Like the others, you blend into the background, and I stay as the underdog.

However, how the fuck do you know about X-Men and Squirrel Girl?! The stickers on your locker indicate that you actually read that shit, and that’s something to gawk at! You? Having normie friends, doing normie activities and being just fucking normal, actually liking the same shit I did?! I’ve spent weeks of my life, reading the latest editions and waking everyone up because I noticed a mistake with my copy? The same shit I waited online at midnight for, kicking and screaming because they said they had enough copies for everyone, but ALL OF A SUDDEN didn’t when I came through the door?! Like, it’s not my fault little kids don’t know what hit them on the way out!

What’s worse is that you keep appearing to me as fucking Emma Frost. Her blonde hair being replaced with your (H/C). You’re lying on my bed, teasing the FUCK out of me. What’s worse is that it’s in her Hellfire Club outfit.

I can forgive Wonder Woman, Lara Croft, Trinity and even Tasha Yar (it was a wet dream with her) but Emma Frost?! She was sacred to me, until your fucking being invaded my dreams. I can still hear your voice saying “Come to bed, honey” in that stupid fucking voice! Your finger beckoning me to come…and I did.

Despite all fucking instincts, I FUCKING DID! I went over to you and ravished you like a fucking fool. It didn’t even look like those porn videos, but an actual sappy romance scene! Just two people crashing lips together!

…you’ve invaded my mind. You’re controlling me like Professor Xavier did to Magneto in the cartoon. Every time I see you walking in the hallways, the thoughts I formed in my brain just melt away, and all I’m left with is you. You’ve imprinted me. Every last capacity of my brain has been invaded by your existence.

It’s gotten to the point where the club mocks me, especially that fat piece of shit boulder! I can hear his nasal laughter while he talks about me being “whipped”! FUCKING WHIPPED! The only thing whipped are pussies and normies, AND YOU’VE TURNED ME INTO THAT!

You’re not even that interesting! You get up, take a 5 minute shower (usually doing your face and body), put on that expensive skincare only available at Sephora, eat the breakfast your mom usually makes (pancakes with a toast is your go to) and then head out!

You stop for a coffee (iced with 2 sugar and cream) and head to school. Going to your locker on the third floor (the twelfth one) and talking to your friends (your locker is so strange…it’s like someone molded you to be my other half….even the way you talk about the latest comics…)

I only have you for third period calculus, and you’re so strange. Always paying attention to class and actually responding to what the teacher says. It’s like you actually like being in class. Strange….

I hate your friends. Seeing them near you is like bugs crawling in my spine. I hate them. I hate them so fucking much. I hate how happy you seem with them, the way your hand gently pushes them jokingly….that should be me. I want that warmth in your eyes, that soft touch you can bring. Still remember how you offered me a pen when I couldn’t find any. I’d admit, I grip onto your hand when I accepted…you smelt so fucking good. Like a floral, clean scent. You would look so beautiful in my collection. My most prized collectible. And I can show you off, cause I caught you. You. YOU!

I hate you. I want to crawl myself into your skin and become you. See how you function…see how you deal with this day to day life. You’re so intriguing.

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

I hate you. Just stay the fuck away from me.

-William Alan Dickey

[ankababy]

A Home (part 27)

Part 1 Part 26 Part 28

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

Lies, lies, more lies, still lying. Niragi MIGHT seem out of character at first, but that’s because he’s lying, being out of character on purpose. Boys :(

You blinked. Once. Twice. His words clawed down your spine and left you stiff, frozen, heart clenching.

It hurt.

“You don’t even see without your glasses, Niragi.”

His jaw tensed. That tick in his cheek that used to signal danger. He stepped closer again, slow like he was keeping himself from lunging, from doing something worse. You didn’t back down.

“You don’t get to just say that. You think you can say that and I’ll just—what? Fold? Go soft again?”

He still didn’t answer. Not really. Just stared, just watched, like if he stared hard enough, you’d come undone all over again. But you wouldn’t. Not tonight.

Not again.

“After what you did?” You took a step forward this time. The hallway felt smaller. Tighter. “You think you get to say you’re beautiful and that’s it? That’s all it takes?”

Still nothing.

You laughed, but it was bitter, ugly. “You’re sick.”

He licked his lips slowly, then tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “So what, you’re all grown up now? You learned to bite back?”

The coldness in his voice made your stomach twist. He didn’t even sound angry. He just sounded—empty. Like it didn’t even matter. Like you were the only thing keeping his voice attached to his body.

“You think just ‘cause you scream a little louder now, you’re not soft anymore?”

You clenched your jaw. “I’m not the girl who begged you to stop.”

He scoffed. “Sure you are. You’re just a little prettier when you cry now.”

Your hand twitched. You wanted to hit him. Or maybe you wanted him to hit you. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Your heart beat so fast you thought you might faint.

“I hate you.” you whispered, lying.

“I know.” he said, and something in his voice cracked. “That’s not gonna stop me.”

He was staring at your lips.

You looked away.

“I’m not doing this again.” you said. “You want to manipulate me again? You want to tear me down just to rebuild me how you like?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re hollow, Niragi. A shell. You don’t care about anyone. You didn’t even care about Akira. You made me—”

“I do care.” he cut in, and it was almost a growl. “You’re the only one I fucking care about.”

That stopped you. You hated how it stopped you.

“I’m not good.” he said. “You want someone good? Go back to your little doctor. At least he pretends better than I do.”

You didn’t move.

“So talk to me.” he said, voice low. “Just talk.”

You hated him.

You hated how your chest cracked open when he begged. You hated how you still loved the boy behind the monster. You hated how even now, after everything, a part of you ached to understand him.

“…Fine.” you breathed, exhausted. “Fine.”

Just the promise of your voice was enough to keep him from blowing his own brains out.

You stood still for a moment, just breathing, letting everything he’d just said settle in your bones. It didn’t feel good—none of this did. But it did feel. That was the problem. That was the poison in your chest.

And he looked at you like he was about to beg again, and maybe that’s what broke you.

“My room.” you said quietly, and turned. “Let’s go.”

You didn’t wait to see if he followed.

But of course he did.

Of course Niragi followed you like a starved, rabid dog, head buzzing, teeth clenched, hands fists in his pockets like it was the only way to stop them from reaching out, clawing at you, burying in your flesh. His steps were silent behind you—predator silent—but inside, he was chaos.

He was frantic.

Wild.

Desperate.

Every step behind you dragged something ugly and bloody up his throat. If he could’ve unzipped his skin and handed you his entire ribcage, he would’ve. He would’ve crawled on broken glass and used his teeth to bite through his own wrist if you said it’d make you look at him for two more seconds.

The moment you opened the door to your room and stepped inside, he hovered behind you.

You turned to look at him as you let the door swing shut. He was staring, blank-faced, but those eyes—red around the edges, exhausted, and bottomless. Bottomless in the way that meant if you fell into them, you wouldn’t hit the ground. You’d just keep falling. Forever.

“You gonna come in or stand there like a creep?” you asked softly, almost teasing, and maybe that was cruel.

But Niragi stepped in without a word.

And now you were both inside.

Now there was no one else. No hallway. No militants. No walls between you.

Just you, and him.

He stood there, like if you asked him to sit, he’d drop to his knees instead. Like if you said his name sweet enough, he’d collapse.

God, he was pathetic.

It wasn’t love. Not the kind other people understood. Not soft or clean. It was a sickness. It was rot. It was obsession chewing through his ribs and using your name as oxygen. You lived in his bloodstream, in every violent impulse, in every nightmare and every fantasy alike.

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and slam you into the wall and scream that he didn’t know how to be gentle but he’d rip his heart out if you wanted it.

He wanted to beg.

He wanted to bleed.

He wanted to taste the skin behind your knees and press his mouth to your collarbone just to see if you’d whimper. He wanted to burn the scent of that doctor off your skin with his teeth and replace it with his fucking fingerprints.

But all he did was stand there.

Watching.

Waiting.

“Sit.” you said, finally. You nodded at the bed.

He obeyed like it was instinct.

“You look like you’re gonna explode.” you whispered.

He swallowed. “I might.”

You nodded, slowly. And said nothing.

Maybe he really was just some kind of broken animal that only ever learned how to bite.

His eyes locked to yours like it physically hurt to look away.

He shut the fuck up for once in his life.

“I can’t do this.” you said. “I can’t do this if it’s going to be like this.”

You didn’t yell. That almost made it worse. Your voice was calm. Raw, but calm. Like something final was being carved out of your lungs.

“You don’t get to treat people like this, Niragi. You don’t get to destroy things, then act like it never happened just because you’re afraid of being left alone.” You stopped walking for a second, stared at him. “I don’t care how messed up you are. I don’t care how much it hurts. If you’re just going to drag me into the dark with you, I don’t want it.”

And still, he said nothing. He sat on the edge of your bed like a statue of himself. A hollow version.

You were walking around. Your feet were bare, silent against the floor.

“You know what this is, Niragi?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you. “It’s not love. It’s not even close. It’s pain. You hurt, so you make other people hurt, and then you call it something romantic when they stay. That’s not love. That’s—That’s fear. That’s you trying to glue pieces of yourself back together using me.”

That hit him.

Good.

You didn’t stop.

“I don’t want it if it means waking up in the middle of the night wondering if you’re gonna snap again. I don’t want it if I have to wonder how far you’d go to keep me. If I’m just one more thing you’re scared of losing, not a person. Not a choice.”

Niragi’s fists trembled against his knees. He looked down. His mouth opened once, closed again.

“Because I’m not yours.” you said, quieter now. “And if you can’t look at me and understand that—I mean really understand that—then this thing between us is already dead.”

He could taste the iron in his mouth, feel the edges of your sentences scraping bone.

And fuck, you were right.

He knew you were right.

But it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter.

Because he couldn’t love you the right way.

He didn’t know how.

All he knew how to do was break and bite and ruin. That’s what he was made for. That’s what people like him were good at.

But still—he wanted you. God, he wanted you.

He wanted to scream. Tear the room apart. Grab you and beg, press his face to your stomach and cry like a fucking child. He wanted to dig his nails into your back and kiss your mouth until it bruised and give you everything he was, even if all he was now was dirt and blood and ash.

But he couldn’t.

So he sat.

Burning.

Sick.

Obsessed.

Obsessed in the way that made his ribs tighten every time you looked away. Obsessed like he’d bite the face off anyone who touched you. Obsessed like he’d carve open his own wrists just to show you the parts of him no one else was allowed to see.

You were his religion.

His hallucination.

His fucking fever dream.

And hearing you say “I don’t want it” felt like choking on glass and swallowing every shard just to keep your voice inside him.

And yet he deserved it. That was the most disgusting part of it all. He knew he deserved it. But it still made him want to burn the whole world down. Just so you wouldn’t leave.

You were right in front of him now, standing between his knees. He didn’t lift his head at first. He just stared at your legs. At your bare feet. The towel you’d dropped earlier was forgotten on the floor somewhere, and he could see the soft line of your stomach rising and falling.

Then he looked up.

And those eyes—god, those eyes.

Dark. Shiny. Something haunted hiding in the corners, but still beautiful enough to make your breath catch. They were violent eyes, terrifying eyes, but somehow they still made you want to crawl into his lap and let him fuck you dumb until the world didn’t exist.

And for a moment—for just a heartbeat—you wanted to lean down.

You wanted to kiss him.

To forget everything. To throw all the warnings out and fall.

But you didn’t.

You clenched your jaw instead. You crossed your arms tight around your chest, your fingers biting into your sides. Your feet refused to move. You stayed planted. Because you knew.

You knew who he was.

You knew what he did.

You knew what he’d do again.

He wasn’t a good person.

He wasn’t safe.

You’d seen blood on his hands, not once, but always. You’d heard the screams in the night. You knew the rumors. You knew.

And still—there was something inside you that hurt at the sight of him now.

Not because he looked sad. Not because he was broken.

But because you wanted him anyway.

“I’m not a toy.” you said, voice lower. “You don’t get to pick me up and break me and pick me up again. You don’t get to look at me like that and say nothing. You don’t get to love me in this… sick way, Niragi. That’s not love.”

His tongue clicked against his teeth, and his fingers twitched like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the shape of it.

He stared up at you. So quiet. So still.

And you knew that quiet in him wasn’t peace. It was something worse.

“I see you.” you whispered, stepping in just half an inch closer. “You’re not fooling me.”

But Chishiya fooled you, Y/N.

And still, he said nothing. His knuckles were white. His shoulders locked in place.

He wanted to grab you.

He wanted to drag you into his chest and hold you so tight it bruised. He wanted to bite you again, leave something on your neck so everyone knew. He wanted to tear a hole in the floor and bury you in it, just to make sure no one else got near. He wanted to take a scalpel and carve his name into your ribs. He wanted to kneel at your feet and beg for something he couldn’t even name. He wanted to rip his own face off just to show you how ugly he was under all of it.

But instead… he just looked. Looked at you like a dying thing.

Because he was.

He was dying.

He didn’t have the words to fix this. Didn’t have the skills. Didn’t even have the right to ask. But fuck if his chest didn’t hurt. Like a nail was hammered through the center of it.

He wanted you.

Bad.

Ugly.

Starving.

Like an infection that spread, like a sickness that couldn’t be cured.

You swallowed. You knew what you were standing in front of.

Not a boy.

Not even a man.

A monster.

With a beautiful face. A broken body. And a soul full of teeth.

You knew.

And still, your chest ached.

You stepped away. A shift in your breath, a retreat in your chest, and the slow spin of your body as you turned from him, putting your back to his eyes, his shadow. You didn’t know what you were going to say next, but your heart was slamming against your ribs and your mouth moved anyway—

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Niragi. I can’t keep pretending like—”

And then his fingers wrapped around your wrist. Tight.

You didn’t move. You didn’t look back at him. Not yet.

He stood up. Stepped closer.

“I’ll change.” he said.

Simple.

Firm.

Bullshit.

You blinked hard. “Niragi—”

“I will.” he bit.

Your fingers twitched in his grip, and he didn’t let go. His touch wasn’t tender. It wasn’t soft. It was real. Raw. And still trembling with something violent.

“You think I don’t know what I did?” he asked. “You think I don’t know I fucking ruined you? I do. I know. I know exactly what I did and I’ve done worse and I’m not saying I’m a good man—”

“Because you’re not.” you snapped, turning your head just enough for your voice to hit him. “You’re not a good man, Niragi. You’re cruel. You’re violent. You made me—” You couldn’t finish the sentence. The words caught fire in your throat.

He stepped closer. Still holding your wrist. “Yeah. I did. I’m a bad man. I’ve always been a bad man. But you—” He paused. His jaw twitched. “You’re the first thing that’s ever made me think maybe I didn’t have to be.”

Was that true, Niragi?

You scoffed. It was almost a laugh. Bitter and broken and more sad than angry. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. You’re soft. And good. And you looked at me like I was more than some fuckin’ animal in a cage. Do you know what that does to someone like me?”

You turned your head fully now. Met his eyes.

And god, they looked so human when they shouldn’t have.

“You think that makes it okay?” you asked. “That you saw something beautiful and ripped it apart because you didn’t know how to hold it?”

His face cracked then. Just a flicker. The ugly truth bubbling under that beautiful bone structure.

“You think I wanted to fuck it up?” he hissed. “You think I wanted to lose you? I don’t even know how to want things without ruining them. I’m not like the doctor. I don’t know how to lie pretty and hold your hand and pretend I’m not fucked in the head. I only know how to take.”

“You took everything.” you whispered.

He dropped your wrist. Just like that. It fell back to your side like the weight of it hurt him.

“I’m gonna get you back anyway.”

“That’s not how this works.”

He tilted his head. That grin tugging at his mouth wasn’t happy. “Isn’t it?”

You hated that he still got to you. That even now, you could feel your heart trying to beat for him. Still.

“I’ll change.” he said again. Slower this time.

“You can’t just say that and expect me to believe it.”

“I don’t expect you to believe it.” He stepped forward again. “I expect you to see it.”

Another beat.

“I’m gonna show you.”

His voice dropped.

“One way or another.”

You didn’t know what he meant. And you didn’t ask. Because even now, your heart stuttered. Even now, his voice—rough, ruined, real—felt like something you didn’t want to admit you missed.

You were tired. Not just the kind that crawled behind your eyes, but the kind that lived in your chest. The kind of tired that felt bone-deep. The kind that made you vulnerable. And god, he knew it.

He always knew.

“Y/N.” Niragi said, softer now. Like he’d peeled off the skin of the monster and slipped into something more bearable.

“Don’t.” you warned. It was so quiet.

“I know I’m not the one you should be trusting.” he said. “I know I’ve done everything in my power to make sure you don’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”

You didn’t answer.

Because that was the problem, wasn’t it? The trying.

He’d say anything. He would. You knew he would.

Because Niragi didn’t love with his heart—he loved with his teeth.

And still… Still.

“You remember that first time?” he said, and god, you knew it was a trap. A perfect trap. “The first time you looked at me? When I woke up?” He scoffed a little, smile crooked. “You looked at me like you saw me. Like I could be something else.”

“I was stupid then.” you muttered. But it was weak. Not real.

“No.” he said, shaking his head. “You weren’t. You were hopeful. That’s what I liked about you. You had this… light. And I didn’t even want to kill it.”

Your breath hitched.

God.

What a line.

“Niragi…”

“You don’t have to say anything.” he interrupted, taking one more step, close enough now that you could feel the heat coming off of him. “I just wanted to talk. I miss your voice. That’s all.”

“You miss my voice?” you asked, skeptically.

He tilted his head. “I miss a lot of things. But your voice—yeah. That one hurts the most.”

That shut you up.

Because god, how could he do that? Say the exact thing you needed to hear. With the exact tone.

And it worked.

It always worked.

You exhaled. Shoulders heavy. Face tipping back toward him like gravity just liked him more than you.

“I’m mad at you.” you whispered. It was your last shield.

“I know.” he said. His voice didn’t waver. “You should be.”

Then he stepped closer again—barely inches between you—and reached out slowly, like he was testing the water before jumping in. His hand brushed your elbow. Barely.

“And I know I shouldn’t want this,” he murmured. “but you look at me like that and I forget what I did.”

That was it. The collapse. The warmth in his voice. The hollowed-out guilt that still felt like an apology. That addicting contrast—rage and ruin and affection all in one beautiful, cruel boy.

So when he touched your cheek next, when his thumb grazed just under your eye and you didn’t pull away—

You knew.

You folded.

Oh, Y/N.

You broke your own rules for him. Again.

Because even if it was manipulation—even if every word was laced with intention, and control, and strategy—even if his mouth was a lie and his eyes were a trap—he still made you feel wanted. And that had always been your weakness.

You leaned into his touch. Just a little. And he smiled like he won something. Because he had.

You.

Again.

“I’m sorry.” Niragi said. It came out too fast. Too clean. Like he had it on hand, rehearsed in the mirror for the hundredth time since you left him standing in his own rot.

You blinked. “Sorry for what, exactly?”

His eyes flicked up. Calculating.

Which crime?

Which thing was safe to admit? Which version of himself was palatable enough for your forgiveness?

He smiled like it hurt. Like he knew the answer.

“All of it.”

Oh, how convenient.

So clean. So non-specific. So Niragi.

“That narrows it down.” you said flatly, voice heavy with sarcasm.

But still, you didn’t pull away. Because even if his mouth was full of lies, his hands were warm. And your skin was lonely.

He stepped closer, like you hadn’t just poked a hole in his performance. Like if he closed the distance, the cracks in the scene would blur.

“I fucked up.” he said. “Okay? I lost you. And I hated it. I hated the quiet, I hated not knowing what room you were in, hated wondering if you were laughing with someone else. I missed your voice. Your eyes. The way you get all fidgety when you’re nervous.” he went on, and god, he had the details down. “I missed the sound of you walking down the hall. Missed your shampoo on my shirts.”

Your lips parted like you wanted to interrupt. But nothing came out.

“And I know.” he said, brushing your cheek again, thumb warm. “I know I don’t deserve you. I know I’m too far gone and too fucked up and too everything you don’t need.”

Another beat.

“But I want you anyway.��

Of course he did.

You were soft. Beautiful. You loved too much. You were a prize to a boy who never won anything real in his life.

And this? This was the chase.

And Niragi never lost the chase.

So yes, he was saying everything right.

Every “sorry.” Every “I miss you.” Every beautifully polished half-truth stitched together into something that almost looked like sincerity.

But beneath it? It was rot.

He didn’t want redemption. He didn’t want healing. He wanted you. Back under his thumb. Back in reach. Back where he could taste that sweet little gasp you made when he brushed too close. Where he could feel wanted.

Niragi didn’t apologize because he meant it. He apologized because it was a tool. Because manipulation in his mouth sounded like affection in someone else’s. And he knew your heart was soft enough to believe it.

“I would do anything.” he said. “Anything, just to have you back. Say it. Say what you want me to be and I’ll be it.”

You looked at him long and hard. Felt that ugly tug in your chest. That need. And you almost folded again.

God, Y/N.

You were right there.

But you looked at his mouth. You remembered the lies that spilled out of it like silk. So you lifted an eyebrow and said, “You’d be anything, huh?”

He nodded, that spark of confidence flaring behind his eyes again.

“Well,” you said dryly. “how about honest?”

That made him pause.

Just for a second.

Just long enough for the mask to slip, just slightly.

He forced a smile. “I’m trying.”

Sure you are.

But the damage was already done. He saw the way your lip quivered. He saw the way your arms didn’t cross, the way you didn’t move away, the way you let him stay close.

That was enough for him.

Because Niragi never needed truth. He just needed access. And god, you were giving it to him.

He had studied you. Watched every soft edge you tried to hide. Memorized the cadence of your voice when you were scared, angry, heartbroken. Knew what made you tick and what made you crumble.

So—he knew how to do this.

Knew exactly when to soften his tone, when to look away like he was ashamed (he wasn’t), when to touch you like you were something he couldn’t believe was real.

He’d walked into this room with nothing but a sick desperation and a plan.

And now here you were.

So close.

And folding.

Just like he knew you would.

Because Niragi was a fucking predator, and you were warmth and vulnerability. You wanted to stand tall. But you wanted him to be better just a little bit more.

So he fed that.

Fed your hope.

“You’re the only thing I ever gave a shit about.” he whispered, voice calm. “You know that, right?”

And your heart twitched. Because you did want to believe that. You wanted to believe this broken boy was broken just enough to change.

But god—he was good.

Too good.

Smart enough to know just how much remorse to fake, how much vulnerability to weaponize, how much truth to bury beneath something pretty.

“I don’t sleep.” he said. “Not really. Not since you left. My head’s loud, you know? It’s always loud. But when you were next to me… fuck—at least I felt something good.”

You turned your head, just slightly. Your lip trembled. That was all he needed.

“You make me better. You always did. You make me feel like someone real.”

God.

That one almost made you cry.

Because you wanted to feel like you mattered. Like your love did something.

“You’re the smartest person I know.” you whispered, eyes fluttering. “That’s the problem. You know what to say.”

He grinned. Just a flicker of it. Like a wolf spotting a limp.

“I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”

And that—that was the worst part. Because it sounded true. He said it soft. Measured. Like someone who just couldn’t lie to you even if he tried.

You turned your face again. “You don’t mean any of this. You just want control.”

“No.” he said. “I want you.” Then softer, closer: “I need you.”

And maybe it was pathetic. Maybe it was twisted. Maybe it was all a game to him.

But his voice cracked just right. And his hands were so warm.

You stood there, trying to hold on to your strength. To the truths Kuina told you. To the way your heart ached for something real. But Niragi knew your balance. He knew exactly how long to stay quiet, exactly when to inch closer. And god—he knew how to watch you fall.

Manipulation, for Niragi, was art.

And baby, he just got his masterpiece back.

“You’re the only thing that ever felt good here.” he said, voice low, dripping with the kind of sweetness that felt like honey—warm, golden… and so sticky you might not ever get it off. “You know that, right?”

Oh wow. A monster with feelings. Give him a medal.

But his eyes? Soft, lips parted like every word cost him blood. He looked at you like he might die if you pulled away again.

And you wanted to believe it.

Because wasn’t that what you always wanted? To be the exception. The one that made the villain feel like a person again.

“You’re it.” he whispered. “You’ve always been it for me. Even when I didn’t know how to say it right. Even when I messed everything up.”

A beat passed. Then another.

You knew what was coming next before he even said it.

And still, your breath caught when he did.

“…Can I kiss you?”

Four little words.

Simple. Bare.

Deadly.

Fuck off, you knew better. But the ache in your chest was already moving forward, taking your body with it.

And when his hand slid around your jaw, tilting your head toward him, your eyes fluttered shut like he’d flipped a switch in you.

And when his lips touched yours—it wasn’t gentle.

No, it was desperate.

It was a kiss that said I’m sorry and I need you and don’t go all at once.

His mouth crushed against yours with the kind of hunger that had been starving for days. And it made sense—he was. For this. For you.

For control.

Your fingers clutched his shirt without meaning to, needing something to hold onto, something to brace against the pull of it all. His hand slid to the small of your back, dragging you closer.

You were kissing him like you missed him. Like you hated him. Like he ruined you and you still wanted him anyway.

Because maybe he did.

And maybe you did.

~

You woke up alone.

Again.

Which would be fine if you hadn’t gone to sleep thinking—idiotically, embarrassingly—that he might still be here in the morning. That maybe this time, after he kissed you like a man begging for oxygen, after he whispered he’d change, that he’d do better, that he’d be better—he might actually stay.

But no. Of course not.

You blinked up at the ceiling of your room. Big bed. Silky sheets. What a joke. Hatter’s idea of spoiling you. Keep the princess comfy so she doesn’t notice the blood in the water. And you played along, didn’t you? Sleeping on cloud-soft pillows while pretending last night didn’t happen the way it did.

God. You were such a fucking idiot.

Niragi was all heat in the moment—hands, mouth, voice—but give him time and it was all ashes. He kissed you like he meant it. Whispered like he wanted to be someone else. Someone better.

But he wasn’t.

You knew that. You knew it. But for those three seconds—those cursed, beautiful, venomous seconds—you let yourself believe him.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

You sat up, hair a mess, heart worse. The mirror across the room caught your reflection and you wanted to smash it. Not because you looked bad—no, you looked like a dream. Soft skin, big eyes, that little helpless pout Niragi always loved. You looked like a girl worth destroying things for. That was the problem.

They all saw it. Saw you and mistook softness for salvation.

And what did you do? You let them.

You rubbed at your eyes like it might scrub off the night before. It didn’t. You could still feel his hands on your waist, still hear the quiet desperation in his voice, the way it cracked when he said your name like a prayer. And fuck you, but part of you missed him already.

The bastard.

He hurt people for you. Akira didn’t deserve what Niragi and Chishiya did to him. And what did you do? You stopped talking to them for a whole week. Wow. Real spine there.

But last night? Last night Niragi looked like he might shatter without you. Looked like he’d fall to his knees and beg if you so much as breathed the right way. And that’s what always got you. Not the violence. Not the threats. Not the fire.

It was the fear in his eyes.

The way he looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling off the edge.

And you liked that. You hated it, but you liked it. It made you feel real. Important. Like maybe all the blood on your hands meant something if it kept someone from drowning.

So you let him kiss you. You let him lie.

And now you were alone. Again.

He said he’d change.

Yeah. And maybe Chishiya would grow a conscience.

Speaking of, he would probably show up soon. Chishiya always had a sixth sense for when Niragi fucked up. Like a predator smelling blood. Let you pretend he wasn’t lying through his teeth.

You knew the truth, but you still wanted what he gave you. The warmth. The softness. The illusion.

You could forgive almost anything, couldn’t you?

Hell, maybe you deserved what was happening to you.

Because somewhere deep down, you didn’t want to let go of either of them. Not really. Not Niragi, with his burn-the-world love. Not Chishiya, with his beautifully constructed lies.

They needed you.

And god help you, you needed them too.

Just not like this.

You exhaled, slow and shaky, and stared out the window. Sunlight filtered in. Maybe you’d get up. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe today you’d pretend to believe someone again. Maybe you’d keep breaking your own heart just to feel something.

~

Niragi lit the cigarette with shaking hands.

Didn’t mean to. Didn’t think he’d shake at all, honestly, but there it was—the faint tremble, the twitch of his fingers as the lighter sparked, flame catching like it fucking knew he needed the hit.

His balcony was quiet. Too quiet. Early morning mist still clung to the edges of the Beach.

He dragged hard on the cigarette and exhaled.

His knuckles were still bruised.

He didn’t even think about it. Not really. One second he saw the way Akira looked at you and the next there was blood on his hands.

He felt it.

Jealousy. Rage. Panic.

Because what if you looked back?

What if you smiled at that little bug?

What if you chose someone soft?

And what did that make Niragi?

Fucked.

That’s what.

He took another drag, this one deeper. Not that he was sorry. Not really. But you didn’t look at Niragi the same after that. Your eyes had been cold. Not angry. Not even afraid. Just disappointed.

He could handle anything else. You could scream at him. Spit in his face. Slap him, even. He wanted that. Needed the heat of it. But that look?

He almost fucking begged.

Instead, he kissed you.

Because that was what he could do. That was what he had. Hands, lips, heat—he could kiss you until you forgot why you were mad. He could whisper that he’d change. That he wanted to change. That he’d do anything, anything for you. That if you just gave him one more second of closeness, he could be good.

Whatever the fuck “good” even meant.

But the truth? The truth was last night wasn’t about change. It was about getting you back.

And not even all of you. Just a piece. Just enough to touch. To taste. To feel like he existed somewhere outside the chaos in his own skull. You were the only thing that ever made him feel real. And that was the sick part. Because it wasn’t even about you being perfect. Or kind. Or soft. You were, all of that, but it wasn’t the reason he crawled back to you over and over.

It was because you were the only one. There was nobody like you. There would never be.

He leaned his elbows on the railing and stared down at the Beach below. Some drunk bastard was yelling. Two people fucking behind a curtain. A girl crying on the stairs. This place was a circus, and somehow, he still managed to be the worst of the bunch.

But not to you.

He never wanted to be that to you.

He didn’t know how to fix it. Didn’t even know if he wanted to fix it. He was rot, inside and out, and every time he tried to put himself back together it just looked like a more charming kind of monster.

But he couldn’t let you go.

He wouldn’t.

Even if he didn’t deserve you. Even if the only thing he was good at was ruining everything he touched. He’d always come back. Always kiss your skin like an apology. Always beg with his body because he didn’t have the words.

Fucking pathetic.

A desperate, broken thing standing on a balcony too high off the ground, thinking too much about what he’d do if you left for good.

He’d burn the place down, probably.

Or just himself.

He finished the cigarette and flicked the butt off the edge, watching it fall like a dead star. Smoke clung to his shirt. His skin. His soul.

But he didn’t hate you. That was the one clean thing he had left. The one thing that didn’t rot when he touched it.

You. You, with your fucking sad eyes and sweet voice and stupid, stupid heart.

He didn’t know if he could change.

But he knew this: you kissed him last night.

And for a second, he wasn’t in hell.

He lit another cigarette.

Now that you were back, getting clean from smoking suddenly wasn’t that important, was it?

Didn’t even wait a minute. Just sparked the next one like he was trying to choke himself out with the smoke. Like maybe if he inhaled fast enough, he wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

Didn’t work. Never fucking did.

Because underneath the nicotine and adrenaline, underneath the black clothes and last night—you were still there. In his head. Under his skin. Sweet and soft and carved into the inside of his fucking skull.

He couldn’t get rid of you.

And god, he didn’t want to.

Because the truth—the kind of truth he’d never admit, not to you, not to anyone—was this:

He worshipped you.

Not loved. Not wanted. Not desired. Those were too clean, too normal. He worshipped you like a sinner worships a god they know will never love them back. Like something holy he could never touch without dirtying.

And still he touched you. Still he kissed you like his mouth was the only part of him that could tell the truth.

Change was a word he used to get your hands on him again. A performance. A script he repeated every time you pulled away. But what he meant—what lived under the bullshit, under the manipulation, the theatrics, the violence—was simpler:

Don’t leave me.

That was all it ever was.

He’d kill for you. Burn the Beach down for you. Ruin himself for you. And the worst part? You never even asked for that. You never wanted him to fall in love like that. You just existed—warm, kind, too good for this hell—and he fell apart around you.

It was disgusting.

He was disgusting.

There were nights he’d sit alone and think about the way you looked at Chishiya. The quiet, hesitant softness in your eyes. The way you wanted to trust him. Niragi wanted to cut that look off your face. He wanted to rip the elegance out of Chishiya’s mouth, wanted to grind his pretty lies into dust and scream He doesn’t fucking see you like I do.

Because he didn’t.

No one did.

Not like Niragi.

Niragi? He saw everything. The dark parts. The pain. The parts of you that screamed at night and stitched yourself back together by morning. He saw you.

And he fucking loved you for it.

He loved every inch of your broken, bleeding, impossibly soft heart. And not the way people were supposed to love. Not in a way you could take out into the daylight. It was uglier than that. More desperate. Like you were oxygen and he was already halfway drowned.

Because without you? There was nothing. Not the Beach. Not the games. Not the drugs or the sex or the fire or the power. Without you, he was just a monster with a gun and no reason to stop pulling the trigger.

You gave him a reason.

And maybe that was crueler than anything he’d ever done.

Because you cared. Even when you shouldn’t. Even when he hurt people. Even when he hurt you. You still saw the broken little boy underneath the sadist. You still believed, in that dumb, brave little heart of yours, that he could be saved.

He pressed his forehead to the railing, cigarette dangling from his mouth, and exhaled.

He needed you more than he needed to breathe. That your smile—just the ghost of it—was the only thing that kept him from putting a bullet in his own head. That when you touched him, even just your fingers brushing his arm, he felt alive.

And he didn’t deserve that.

He didn’t deserve you.

But he’d take you anyway.

Rip you out of heaven and keep you in his hands even if he crushed you by accident. Because that’s what he did. He ruined things. And he’d ruin you too. And maybe you already knew that. Maybe that’s why you pulled away, why your eyes looked so fucking sad lately. Maybe you were starting to see the truth:

He wasn’t going to change.

He wasn’t capable of it.

But he’d lie. He’d lie until his throat bled. He’d beg on his knees. He’d crawl through glass. He’d do anything to get you to stay.

Because in the end, Niragi was nothing but a desperate fucker on a balcony with a half-burned cigarette and a mouth full of ash, praying to a god he didn’t believe in that you’d come back.

And if you didn’t?

He’d burn.

And take the whole Beach with him.

~

Three soft taps on Chishiya’s door.

Polite. Almost shy.

Like you hadn’t stood in front of that door for five straight minutes trying to decide if this was the right thing to do. As if that mattered anymore. As if anything made sense now.

Your knuckles lingered against the wood, just for a second. Just long enough to feel the pulse in your fingers, the nerves jangling beneath your skin like a warning.

You should’ve turned around. You should’ve gone to Kuina’s room. Or Hatter’s. Or anywhere that wasn’t here.

But of course, you didn’t.

Because you were the kind of girl who wanted to fix things. Even when they were built to be broken. Even when the person behind the door had blood on his hands and sugar in his voice.

Chishiya opened it like he was expecting you.

He always did.

“Hi.” you said softly.

A heartbeat of silence passed. He tilted his head, like he was trying to decide what version of himself to be for you tonight. His eyes flicked over your face, your mouth, your hands. Not because he didn’t know you. But because he knew exactly how to make you feel seen.

He stepped aside. “Come in.”

Like it was nothing. Like you hadn’t kissed him yesterday with shaking hands and watery eyes and a heart caught between betrayal and yearning.

You stepped inside.

The door clicked shut behind you. Trapped. Not physically—but you felt it all the same.

You turned to him, tried to smile. “I just… I wanted to talk. Again. About Akira.”

He didn’t sigh. Didn’t roll his eyes. Just looked at you. Patient. Open. The perfect performance of concern.

“Still bothering you?” he asked, voice smooth, low.

You nodded. “I keep thinking about what happened to him. What you did.”

Chishiya’s face didn’t change. Not even a twitch.

“He wasn’t innocent.” Chishiya said simply.

That again.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “You said he did bad things.”

He nodded. Calm. Controlled. “He did.”

You hesitated. “But what things?”

A pause.

This was the part where he should’ve told the truth.

He didn’t.

“He wasn’t who you thought he was. He was working against Hatter. Trading information. Selling people out to other groups. I didn’t want to tell you yesterday because I knew it would hurt you.”

Liar.

It came so easily. So clean. And god, you wanted to believe it. Wanted it so bad your heart ached from how tightly you clung to the thread of it.

“That’s not what Kuina said.”

Chishiya blinked. Just once. “Kuina doesn’t know everything.”

You looked down at the floor. It was too much. The space between you. The way he could lie without blinking, without sweating, without caring. And still, your heart pulled toward him. Because yesterday, after you confronted him, after your voice cracked and your hands trembled—

Kissiiiiiing.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It had been dark, needy, electric in the worst way.

But it felt like something real.

And now here you were. Still hoping for the real thing.

“I don’t want people getting hurt because of me.” you whispered.

“You didn’t do anything.” he said.

“But—”

“You’re not responsible for how people feel about you. Or what they do because of it.” His voice softened. “You can’t control that.”

You swallowed hard. “I just… I want it to stop. The lying. The killing. I can’t—”

And then his hand brushed your cheek. Gentle.

What he said wasn’t true.

You knew that.

And yet, you leaned into his touch.

Because sometimes a lie that feels good is better than a truth that kills you.

And Chishiya knew that. Of course he did.

He wasn’t going to stop lying.

Not ever.

Because if he told the truth—really told it—you’d leave.

And Chishiya Shuntaro didn’t lose things he wanted.

No matter the cost.

He didn’t say anything sweet. Never did. Not his style. You wouldn’t get baby or darling or I’m sorry, please don’t go out of him. Chishiya didn’t do apologies. He did soft, calculated lies with just enough emotional weight to make them stick in your chest.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” you said, too quietly.

“I want you to be okay.”

Simple. Clean. Not too much. Not too little. Exactly what you needed to hear.

You searched his face for something real. Some crack in the armor. But there was nothing. Just that soft, sleepy-eyed gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.

“You don’t even care.” you whispered. “Do you?”

He tilted his head, watching you. “Of course I care.”

“But you let Niragi—”

“You blame me for what Niragi does?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you said.

He nodded, like he understood. Like he forgave you. “You’re upset. That’s fair.”

You hated how calm he was. Hated how right he sounded even when you knew—deep down—you were being lied to. Hand-fed comfort from a man who had killed someone you cared about. A boy who didn’t deserve to die. And yet, here you were.

Chishiya stepped back. The warmth of his hand gone instantly. Like he was never even touching you at all.

“You came here to make things right.” he said. “But what does that look like to you?”

You blinked. “I don’t know. Honesty, maybe.”

“Honesty.” he repeated. And then, softly—cruelly: “People lie all the time. You do too.”

You stared at him. “I’ve never lied to you.”

Every micro-expression. Every breath you tried to hold in. He saw you like no one else did—and he didn’t even need to say he missed you. He didn’t need to get on his knees and beg.

He just stood there. Quiet and cruel and undeniably yours.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, small and shaky. “This isn’t normal.”

“No.” he said. “But nothing here is.”

“People die here.”

“I’m aware.”

“You killed someone.”

“I kept you safe.”

You flinched. “From what? From a boy who liked me?”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t soften. Didn’t apologize. Because Chishiya didn’t regret it. Not for a fucking second. He regretted that you saw it. He regretted that it made you look at him different. That it made your voice shake when you spoke to him now.

But Akira? Dead weight. A threat to the calm, stable grip he had on you.

Because whether you knew it or not, Chishiya had never wanted anyone before. Not like this.

He didn’t even know he was capable of it.

He’d used people, played them, watched them like ants. He saw their moves before they made them. Saw right through them. And for most of his life, he’d been fine with that. Detached. Floating.

Until you. You—with your stupid, soft eyes and your stubborn morals and your ridiculous, impossible kindness—you cracked something in him. And he hated it. He hated the flutter in his chest when you knocked on his door. Hated the way his hands got warm when you touched him. Hated the ache that bloomed behind his ribs when you walked away.

He hated it.

But he couldn’t stop.

So no, he wasn’t sweet. He wasn’t desperate.

He just knew how to make you stay.

“You don’t have to believe me.” he said. “You don’t even have to trust me.”

You looked up at him. Searching. Always searching.

“I just want to know if you’re mine.” he said.

You froze.

The silence hung between you like a noose.

And he watched you. Calm. Patient. Waiting for the answer he already knew. Because despite everything—despite the lies and the blood and the cold, calculated cruelty—your body was leaning toward him. Your heart was still on the fucking table.

Your voice came out fragile, too small: “…I don’t want to be anyone’s.”

Chishiya nodded once. “Fair.”

Then he stepped forward again, slow and sure, until your back were almost touching the wall.

“But if you were.” he murmured, “you’d be mine.”

You didn’t stop him when he kissed you.

Because the scariest part wasn’t the manipulation. Wasn’t the lies. Wasn’t the coldness behind his touch.

It was how good it felt to be wanted by someone who never wanted anything.

He didn’t rush. He pressed his mouth to yours with the kind of stillness that made your pulse spike, the kind of confidence that said: You came to me. You always come to me.

And fuck, he was right.

You kissed him back.

Even though you shouldn’t. Even though there were bodies behind him—real people, with names and histories, people who were dead now—and you still kissed him like he was something holy.

Because it felt good.

It felt so fucking good to be wanted like this. Not as a weakness, not as a plaything. But like he saw something in you no one else did. Like you were some rare, tragic little miracle in this shithole world, and he was the only one smart enough to hold on tight.

His hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting your head just slightly, just so he could kiss you deeper. He still didn’t touch you like a lover. He touched you like he was studying the architecture of your heartbreak. Like he wanted to memorize the exact angle of your suffering.

Your breath caught.

Because beneath all that coldness—beneath the silence and the lies—was something. Something real. You felt it. In the way his mouth lingered against yours like he didn’t want to pull away. In the way his thumb traced the soft skin beneath your eye, where you’d cried hours ago. In the way he leaned in closer, lips parting slightly, your teeth almost grazing.

You were so soft with him. So stupidly, recklessly soft.

And he loved it.

He didn’t show it. Didn’t say a fucking word. But he did something else.

He kissed lower.

You gasped—barely—but he heard it. You felt his mouth drag down, just slightly, from the corner of your lips to the line of your jaw, then down to the place where your pulse thudded, frantic and hot, just beneath your skin.

Chishiya kissed your neck. Slow. Unapologetic.

And then he bit.

Not hard. Not cruel. Just enough to make you feel it. To leave a mark. His lips closed around your skin and sucked, slow and deep, and you could already feel the bruise blooming beneath the surface.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. You didn’t push him away.

(AN: guys idk if he wears a jacket or a hoodie, if I write one of them just know I think of that white fuck he wears okay?)

You tilted your head and let him.

And god, it felt—it felt like punishment and prayer and pleasure all at once. Like maybe if he hurt you gently enough, it would balance the rest out. Like maybe this was how he said I feel it too without saying a fucking word.

Because he did.

He felt it.

Chishiya had never had a crush before. Not this bone-deep ache that made him want to destroy anyone who touched you. Not this gut-twisting hunger to be the one you ran to when the world went to shit. Not this—

Longing.

That was the word for it.

He wanted you in ways he didn’t understand. Didn’t like. It wasn’t just physical. He wanted to belong to you. Wanted you to look at him like he mattered. Like he wasn’t just some cold bastard with too many deaths on his hands.

He wanted you to choose him. Even if you shouldn’t.

And so, he marked you. Right there on the curve of your throat, where everyone could see it.

Where Niragi would see it.

Where Kuina would.

Where the Beach would.

He pulled back finally, lips pink, eyes dark, watching the slow realization settle in your eyes. You touched the bruise with trembling fingers.

You looked so sad.

God, your sad fucking eyes.

That crushed little look like you knew what you were doing. Like you knew you should walk out right now and never come back. Like your heart was breaking for him—and for yourself too.

“You didn’t have to do that.” you said, softly.

Chishiya just looked at you. Didn’t say sorry. Didn’t explain. But his hand brushed your wrist as you touched the mark, his fingers ghosting over your skin.

“You wanted to feel wanted.” he said finally, voice low. “Now you do.”

And fuck you—he was right.

You did.

Even if it was wrong. Even if it hurt. Even if it meant dragging yourself through this hell with a liar’s mouth on your skin and a bruise blooming just below your collarbone.

You didn’t walk away. You stayed. Because the truth was simple.

You liked him.

You felt too much. And so did he. Even if he’d never say it.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, heartbroken, lips parted like maybe—just maybe—something kind would come out of his mouth. Something sweet. Something real.

But Chishiya didn’t do sweet.

Oh, you could feel it—he was thrilled.

Not the kind of happiness you could see. No smiles. No bright eyes. Nothing soft. Just the sick, simmering satisfaction of a man who had just checkmated the entire board.

You gave him a problem—your suspicion, your heartbreak, trembling little “I want honesty”—and he’d solved it. Not by confessing. Not by apologizing. By fucking kissing you. By biting into your skin like it was his. He didn’t even need to ask, that was the worst part.

You should have slapped him. You should have turned around, ripped open the door, and told Kuina everything. You should have screamed at him and made him pay for what he did to Akira. What he did to you.

But instead? You leaned in. Your hands curled into the front of his hoodie, gripping the soft fabric.

You kissed him.

Not out of lust. Not even entirely out of longing.

You wanted him to need you.

You wanted him to burn for you.

And he did.

The second your lips met his again, he made a sound so small, so low, it barely registered—but it was there. Like the tightest breath of relief, pulled from somewhere deep inside. Like the itch in his bones finally eased.

You kissed him soft this time. Your lips slow. Searching. Almost sad. And he let you. He didn’t rush it. He didn’t deepen it. He just stood there, letting you pour every drop of doubt, grief, love, into the shape of your mouth against his.

And behind that silence? He was gloating. Not in a loud, arrogant way. No, Chishiya’s satisfaction was quiet. Hidden under layers of calm, behind that stare. But it was there. Thick in the air.

Because he had you.

Again.

Still.

And god, the control of it. The elegance of it. This wasn’t Niragi’s kind of victory—bloody and loud and furious. No. Chishiya’s wins were clean, undetectable, undeniable.

He didn’t need to beg for you. Didn’t need to cry or yell or break. He just needed to exist. And you came back. You always did.

Your lips were pink when you pulled away. Your cheeks flushed. And the hickey—god, the hickey—was darkening already.

You looked wrecked.

And he looked so fucking pleased.

Not with you. With himself. Because this was all going according to plan. You, soft and trembling. Him, untouched. Collected.

But under that—under the surface, in the quietest, darkest place inside him—he was obsessed. With your voice. With your fucking mouth. With your loyalty, fragile and stupid as it was. With the fact that he was the one you came to. Not Niragi. Not Hatter. Him.

The only person in this whole godforsaken hellscape who’d never said “I love you.”

And still had you by the throat. Without lifting a finger.

You stepped back. Not much. Just enough to give yourself space to breathe. Space to think. But even that felt like a betrayal. Your hands dropped from his hoodie. And god, they missed it already.

“I should go.” you whispered. Your voice barely made it out. It was cracked. Small. Still soft. You always were. “I just… I needed to know.” you said, looking down. “If you still felt it. Or if I was just—if I imagined all of it.”

You didn’t cry.

But it felt like you should’ve.

Because you still loved him.

You shouldn’t. You knew better now. You saw what he was—how he lied like it was breathing, how he played you like it was nothing, how he twisted every truth into a weapon he could aim back at your chest. You knew.

But love doesn’t give a fuck about knowing.

You loved him anyway. Because he kissed you like he knew you. Because he looked at you like you were something worth keeping alive. Because he didn’t scream, didn’t panic, didn’t beg—he stayed. Always stayed. Right where you could find him.

Even if he’d ruined everything.

Even if he’d lied about Akira.

“I just want things to be okay again.” you said.

And maybe that was your fatal flaw. Always wanting okay. Always trying to patch holes in a ship that was already sunk. Always loving people who didn’t know how to love you back.

But you were still here. Still standing in front of him like your heart hadn’t been shot out of your chest.

“Things will be okay.” he said quietly.

A simple lie. Soft. Easy. Perfectly cut to fit your shape.

And fuck, you wanted to believe it.

Your hand twitched at your side. Like you were about to reach for him again. Like you couldn’t help it. But instead, you turned. And you walked toward the door. You didn’t slam it. Didn’t cry. Just left with love still clinging to your bones, like a ghost that wouldn’t go.

Chishiya watched you leave. Didn’t stop you, didn’t move. But behind that stillness, he was burning. Quietly. Beautifully. The kind of slow, obsessive, controlled fire that ate through everything in its path.

Okay, total lie. He controlled none of this. Control the situation? Sure. Control himself, his feelings? Eeeeh…

~

Your door was cracked open.

Not wide. Just enough to unsettle you.

You’d closed it when you left. You were sure.

Your heart, already fragile from Chishiya’s fingerprints, gave a quiet stutter as you pushed it open. The air in your room had changed—warmer, thicker. It smelled like smoke and cologne.

Sitting on the edge of your bed. Legs spread, elbows on his knees, a cigarette dying between two fingers, smoke curling lazy and thick into the ceiling.

Niragi.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he said, voice low. Smooth. Too calm. “Miss me?”

You weren’t ready for this. Not now. Not right after Chishiya’s mouth had been on yours, not with your brain still swimming and your heart beating itself raw against your ribs.

But you were soft. So fucking soft. So you didn’t scream, or shove him, or tell him to get the fuck out. You stepped inside, slow. Cautious. Confused.

“…What are you doing here, Niragi?”

“You were with him, right?” he said, and he didn’t say the name, didn’t have to.

He didn’t sound angry. Not yet. He sounded… curious. And that was worse. Because Niragi was smart. Too smart. Everyone underestimated him because he acted like a psycho and shot people for fun—but he knew. He watched. He read people like books, tore them apart.

You sat on the edge of the bed beside him, leaving a few inches between you. Small, shaky, but there.

“Niragi,” you said quietly. “I just wanted to talk to him. I wanted to fix things. You and I—we haven’t even—”

He laughed. A short, breathless thing.

“You always want to fix things.” he said, turning toward you. “You think this place is made for fixing?” And then, softer: “You think he loves you?”

You didn’t answer.

Because you didn’t know.

All you knew was that you kissed Chishiya like he was the last safe place on earth—and left feeling more lost than when you arrived.

But you looked at Niragi now. And for all his madness, all his obsession and violence and chaos—there was something real in his eyes. Something wild. Something desperate.

He was smart enough to play it cool, but underneath? He was burning. You could feel it. He was a powder keg in a pretty body. Explosive with need. Drenched in love he didn’t know how to carry.

“I’m not mad.” he said, tilting his head. “Okay? I’m not mad.”

Liar.

“But it’s driving me fucking crazy that he touched you. That you let him. That you’re confused.”

His hand reached out and rested against your knee.

“You don’t have to be confused, baby.”

Your breath hitched.

“You just have to choose me.”

You looked at him, at this boy made of teeth and fire and fragile need, and you felt everything and nothing all at once.

Confused. Warm. Sick. Wanted.

Loved.

God, he loved you.

Wrongly. Violently. Obsessively.

But completely.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Your voice came out small. Honest.

“I do.” he said, without missing a beat. “I know what you need. I know what he is. I know what I am. And I know—I know—you still fucking love me.”

He was right.

Somehow.

Love wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It wasn’t supposed to taste like blood and smoke and someone else’s mouth still on your lips. It wasn’t supposed to rip you in half.

But it did.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked, voice low.

You blinked, eyes wide. Then your fingers—hesitant, slow—came up to your collarbone. You brushed over the hickey.

“Is that from him?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. You looked away, that was enough.

He stood up so fast the mattress shook. Walked away like he couldn’t stand the sight of you for a second—but only made it three steps before he turned around.

“You let that cold, dead-eyed snake put his mouth on you?” he asked. Quiet. Too quiet.

Not screaming. Not yet.

But it was coming.

Still, you didn’t speak. Because what could you say? You didn’t want to lie. And he wouldn’t believe it anyway.

And yeah. You let him. You let Chishiya. Because you were weak, and lost, and wanted to be wanted. And Chishiya knew how to make you feel like the center of the universe without ever saying a word.

“You know what’s fucking crazy?” he said, looking right at you. “I could’ve killed that little freak the second he touched you. I wanted to. Still do.” He stepped closer. “But I didn’t. Because I thought maybe—maybe—I could show you something different. Not… sweet. I’m not fucking sweet. But I thought if I tried…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Because even saying that much tasted like weakness. And weakness was death in this place.

He stopped in front of you. Looked down at your soft, small frame, your hands still protectively curled around your own collarbone like you were trying to hide what had already been done.

And that’s when it hit him.

You weren’t trying to flaunt the hickey.

You weren’t trying to show off the kiss or the boy or the moment that had happened before him.

You were trying to shield it.

From him.

From his rage.

From what he might do.

And god help him— It hurt. It hurt in a way he didn’t have words for.

Because you looked scared. Not terrified. Not of your life. But scared of him. Scared that he’d lash out. Scared that this would snap something in him that could never be put back together. And not because you were afraid for you. But because you were afraid of what he’d do to someone else.

“You think I’m gonna lose my shit?” he said, voice dull now. Almost hollow. “You think I’m gonna put a bullet in his mouth just because he got there first?”

You swallowed. Didn’t meet his eyes.

He sat down beside you again. And for once, he didn’t say something cruel to cover the pain. Didn’t call you a slut. Didn’t throw Chishiya’s name like a knife.

He just looked at your face.

That sweet, tired, aching face.

He wanted to touch you.

Not to own you. Not to fuck you. Not even to mark you.

He just wanted to feel you.

Because you were the only thing in this godforsaken world that wasn’t poison to him. Even when you let other men kiss you.

You were his only clean thing. And he was too broken to say that. Too broken to be the boyfriend you deserved. Too full of guns and ghosts and smoke and rage.

But he felt it. God, he felt it. And he fucking hated how much.

“You look tired, baby.” Soft. Too soft for a man like him.

Your head turned, just a little. Surprised.

And he smiled. Not his usual cocky shit-eating grin. Not teeth and threat. Just a smile. Small. Like maybe—maybe—he meant it.

His smile was so beautiful.

“Yeah.” you said, voice thin. Honest. “I guess I am.”

He hummed. Stared straight ahead.

Like he hadn’t just committed psychological warfare yesterday. Like he hadn’t ripped a man’s thigh to shreds last week for getting too close to you. Like he was just a guy. Just a boy with tired eyes and too many bruises.

“You never rest.” he said. “Even when you’re alone. Even when you’re safe.”

You didn’t say anything.

Because how the fuck did he know that?

“You ever think about letting someone take care of you?” He looked at you with such pretty eyes. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself, angel.” he went on, voice low, slow, dangerous in its quiet. “You don’t have to fix everybody. Not me. Not Chishiya. Not this fucked-up place. You’re not a glue stick. You’re not a band-aid.”

“But I like helping.” you said, small. “I want to.”

Of course you did. You were you. Sweet. Soft. Delusional in the best, most heartbreaking way. And god, he loved it.

He leaned closer. His shoulder bumped yours.

“Then help me.” he said. “Stay with me. Let me be close. Let me feel you, baby.”

His hand came up, slow, delicate, and brushed your hair back from your face. Not with greed. Not with heat. Just with that hunger. The kind that hurt to hold in.

And Niragi—violent, obsessive Niragi—felt something awful bloom in his chest.

It was feeling.

Real, sick, aching feeling.

And he hated it. But he needed it. He needed you.

He looked at your face again. Your soft lashes. Your sad little mouth. Your hands.

And fuck, he fell harder. Like gravity just doubled in this room.

He was close enough to see the hickey again, the bruise from someone else’s mouth—and for the first time, it didn’t send rage through his spine.

It just made him want to make his own.

Quiet. Private. Just for you.

“I can be better.” he whispered, nose brushing yours. “For you, I can.”

You didn’t pull away. Didn’t believe him, either. But you wanted to. And he could see that wanting in your eyes.

You were so confused. So soft. So fucking sweet even now.

And he was drunk on it.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore.” Your voice was small. Raw.

Niragi didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just stared. At your mouth. At the tremble there.

He knows who you are. You’re his.

“I try so hard to stay good. I try to… to hold on to it. To the part of me that isn’t broken yet.”

Don’t hold on. Let it break. He’ll keep the pieces. He’ll lick the fucking pieces clean.

You looked down at your lap. Twisted your fingers. “I keep thinking if I help people, if I just love enough, everything will make sense.”

You don’t have to love everyone. Just love him. Just fucking love him.

You looked at him, and the pain in your eyes almost killed him. “But it doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense. People still die. People still lie. And I… I let things happen I shouldn’t.”

His jaw tensed. He wanted to ask. Wanted to scream what did he do to you, wanted to take Chishiya’s little smirk and beat it off his face.

But he didn’t. He stayed still. Because you were trusting him. Finally. Bleeding truth right into his hands. And he liked the blood.

“I let people use me.” you whispered. “I let them talk their way back into my heart. Even when I know better.”

He’s already in your heart. He built it. He planted himself in there like a weed. Good luck ripping him out, baby.

“And I miss things that hurt me.” You didn’t have to say it. You didn’t have to name him. Niragi already knew.

You miss him. You miss his fire. His teeth. His fucked-up way of loving you. You miss it. And he’ll give you more. He’ll burn for you. He’ll set himself on fire if it makes you stay.

“Do you ever wish you could be… different?”

He laughed once, short. Bitter.

Different? No. Better for you? Yes.

His voice came quiet. “Only when I look at you.”

You smiled. Tired. God, you were so tired. And so sweet. Even like this. Even torn in five directions and covered in everyone else’s fingerprints. You were still trying to love. Still trying to make sense of it all.

“I’m just tired of being everyone’s lifeline.” you said. “No one ever asks if I’m okay. They just need me. And I let them.”

He needs you. He needs you. But he’ll ask. He’ll check. He’ll watch. He’ll obsess. He’ll memorize your every blink until he knows what it means when you twitch in your sleep.

“You make me feel safe.” you said, almost shy.

That one hit him like a sledgehammer to the ribs. Because he knew it wasn’t true. But you believed it. Or maybe you just needed to say it. Needed it to be real. And that was worse.

You’re his. You trust him. You chose him. After everything, after that fucker Chishiya, you came back to him.

Your head dropped against his shoulder.

And Niragi just sat there. Still. Breathing hard. Staring at the wall.

His hand came up, hesitant, slow. And he wrapped it around your waist. Not like a boyfriend. Not like a lover. Like a man holding onto the edge of the world. Because you were the edge. And he was so close to falling off.

Don’t leave. Don’t ever fucking leave. He’ll be good. He’ll fake it. He’ll learn it. Just stay. Just be here. Just keep talking to him like he’s someone worth talking to.

You exhaled. Soft. Calm. “Thank you for listening.”

And he almost said it.

Almost.

I love you.

But it caught in his throat and turned to smoke.

So he just held you tighter.

And thought it louder.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“You need anything?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Water? Food?”

You blinked at him. Slow, surprised.

Because since when did Niragi ask what you needed?

Not tell. Not demand. Not twist your arm.

Ask.

Soft.

Gentle, even.

“You don’t have to go.” you murmured. “I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” he said. “You don’t have to be strong with me all the time.”

God, say thank you. Cry in front of him. Let him clean up the mess he made and call it love. Let him be your fucking hero just for a second.

You smiled at him. Soft. Stupid. Hopeful. Like maybe you thought he meant it. Like maybe this was the turning point. And he liked that look. That sparkle in your eye that hadn’t fully died yet.

He’d die before he let anyone else put it out.

“I just want to take care of you.” he said, and meant none of it, and meant all of it.

He wants to chain you to his bed and feed you from his hand. He wants to peel the skin off anyone who makes you cry. He wants to wrap himself around your ribs and stay there, choking the air out of your lungs but calling it protection.

You laid your head against him again. And he rested his chin on your hair. Like he wasn’t rotting inside. Because oh, Niragi was sick. He was sick in ways language couldn’t hold. Sick in ways even he couldn’t understand. Twisted and blackened and barely human in the ways that counted.

He didn’t know how to love. He barely knew how to want without destruction riding shotgun.

This wasn’t affection.

This wasn’t devotion.

It was consumption. Worship in the most feral, unholy sense.

He wanted to carve his name into you. Dig it into your soul so no one else could ever touch you without bleeding for it. He wanted you on your knees, crying his name, begging him to be good.

And he wanted to fail at it.

Because deep down, he didn’t believe he could be good.

And he wanted you to stay anyway.

He wanted you to cry in his arms and still say, “It’s okay.” He wanted to ruin you just slow enough that you wouldn’t notice.

So when you whispered, “I’m glad I’m not alone.” he smiled. A sweet, tragic little smile. And didn’t say anything about the hollow in his gut. The part of him screaming, You don’t deserve this. You’re poison. You’re going to kill her soul.

“You should sleep.” Niragi murmured, voice barely there.

You didn’t move. Just kept sitting there, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. You felt warm. Maybe too warm.

He brushed your arm gently with his fingers. Idle. Soothing. Like he hadn’t nearly ripped the head off a man last week. Like this was who he’d always been—gentle, protective, safe.

You don’t even know what you’ve done, letting him this close. He’ll rot everything you are. But fuck—if you tell him to stop, he’ll cry and kiss your knees and promise you the world. Then do it all again.

You exhaled, slowly.

The moment had teeth in it. You could feel them. Right there beneath the softness. But you didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. Because… what was the point?

“You make it feel less lonely.” you whispered. “You always know the right thing to say.”

He leaned down and kissed your hair.

That light, perfect kiss.

The kind of kiss that could make you forget who he was.

He wants you to think he’s good. That’s all. Just long enough to fall harder. Just long enough to be his in every fucked-up, irreversible way.

You swallowed. Something twisted in your gut. You didn’t know what. Couldn’t name it. It wasn’t fear. Not quite. Just a voice. Far away. Saying, this isn’t right. But your heart answered back: but it feels good.

Niragi’s hand slid down your arm once more. Then he stood.

And just like that, the bed felt colder.

“I’ll let you sleep.” he said. “Don’t worry. I’m not going far.”

He’ll never be far again. Even if he’s not in the room, he’ll be in your head. He’ll be in Chishiya’s head. He’ll be everywhere.

He turned at the door, eyes trailing over you.

And you smiled at him. Just a little. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? Smile at monsters and hope they don’t bite.

“I’ll see you.” you said softly.

He grinned.

“Bet on it.”

Then he was gone.

The door clicked shut. And the silence settled like a wet sheet over your skin.

You stared at the ceiling. Alone again.

But not alone.

No, never really alone.

He was still here. His fingerprints were still in your hair, in your chest, wrapped around your lungs like ivy.

And you…you felt off.

Like the sweetness was rotting at the edges. Like maybe you’d swallowed something sharp and didn’t feel it yet.

Your body curled tighter. Searching for that warmth again.

And all you found was him.

Even when he wasn’t there.

Even when you knew something was wrong.

You were just too fucked over him to stop.

~

Tonight, Niragi’s head was full of you.

Of your voice, your trembling, trusting voice. The way you’d looked at him like maybe—maybe—you didn’t see the devil sitting across from you. Maybe you saw something soft. Something worth keeping.

God, he’d fake softness forever if it meant he got that look again.

He hadn’t told you the truth. Not even close. He’d left the ugliest parts of himself in the dark, behind the door, behind a pretty face and a few gentle touches like he was some kind of angel.

But he felt it.

He felt it, and it was so big it was making him nauseous.

His skin buzzed. His chest felt too tight.

He couldn’t stop replaying the way your fingers curled into his shirt, like you didn’t want him to leave.

And wasn’t that something?

Wasn’t that fucking everything?

He lit a cigarette and stepped out into the hallway from his room, couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he walked. He wasn’t thinking about the next game. He wasn’t thinking about Chishiya, or the other guys who looked at you too long, or the fact that he’d tortured an innocent boy in the last week just for saying your name too sweet.

No.

He was thinking about your sleepy smile. The way your voice caught when you told him you felt safe. He was thinking about your perfume. Your shampoo. How you still smelled like a life.

And how he was gonna keep that smell. Bottle it. Drown in it.

He turned the corner too fast, smirking, lost in it—

And passed Kuina.

She didn’t say a word. Didn’t break her pace. Just kept walking.

But her eyes narrowed, flicking up and down his body.

Because Niragi?

That bastard was smiling.

Not the usual shark-grin. Not the “I just stabbed someone in the spine” grin. Not even his “watch me fuck with the world” smirk.

No. This was different.

Quiet. Self-satisfied.

Content.

And it made no sense.

Not from him.

Not from the walking trauma response with a gun over his shoulder.

Kuina’s stomach turned.

Because she knew what that kind of smile meant.

It meant he got something.

And if Niragi got something, someone else lost something.

She didn’t stop to ask. Didn’t call him out. They weren’t friends. She hated him. Everyone did.

But her chest clenched. Her gut twisted.

Because there was only one person soft enough, kind enough to let a smile like that exist on his face.

You.

Fuck.

(AN: guys I know Y/N’s deep in it again, but just again, she WILL get back up. She’ll be fine I promise. I know the boys are horrible but this is their only tool to keep her)

@lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii @potato-vagina @cherryyserenade @l5byrinth @soaplickerrr @sillyenemyarcade @miellette @sk1ndx0 @stopcallingmeimovedon

[scoobydoodean]

ok so I deeply love and respect your thoughts on supernatural because the majority of them line up with what I've been thinking for years but you said something the other day that I keep turning over in my brain and it was something along the lines of carver liking dean more than sam - I know you're in the middle of rewatching s4 but I would love to hear you expound on that (if you have time) because I remember being in the fandom while carvernatural was airing and it was pretty much when the deangirl exodus started. in fact I think people tore into him worse than dabb even 😭

feel free to hold onto this until later when you start the carver seasons if you wish :)

<3 I'll go ahead and answer this one, because it's more of a "broad strokes" thing for me, and I've been rewatching very slowly (on purpose) so that could be a very long wait.

This is so funny because I can just picture Sam fans reading it and turning red and their blood boiling with the fire of a thousand suns but the TL;DR is that season 8-11 (Carver era) broad strokes to me are:

Sam sucks and is a worse brother and person than Dean.

Sam spends the first two seasons of Carver's run thinking he's a better person than Dean anyway and then the second two knowing he sucks, deciding to embrace his moral flexibility to keep Dean alive no matter the cost, and trying to mend things.

Dean is circled by many potential suitors who also in a sense represent Sam replacements because Sam sucks: Benny, Cas, Crowley, and Amara.

Dean knows that Sam sucks and part of him wants to get tf away from him very badly but another part of him feels guilty for wanting that. Family is suffering. Family is a chain around your neck keeping you tied to them via guilt. (Demon Dean represents the desire for escape, as does Amara).

Everybody wants to be with Dean, be Dean, and/or be loved by Dean. Dean is love. Dean is the world. Dean is the reason for existing. Everybody is lovesick about him. Sam is just there.

Sam needs to stop blaming Dean for so many things and learn to own his own choices.

That was fun to write down.

Longer commentary/explanation below the cut.

Season 8 (Carver's first season) literally begins with a Sam character assassination. It begins with us learning that Sam knowingly left Kevin to spend the rest of his life kidnapped and tortured without even telling a soul what happened to him. Not only did he abandon Dean and Cas as well but he didn't even look for them, and refuses to give a satisfying answer as to why.

Season 8 Sam's abandonment as distinct from previous behavior

I have had people this year who I love and respect tell me they don't view this as a character assassination and say they believe this is in character for Sam. I simply do not agree with that. I talk about this as it relates to Kevin here.

Sam has displayed selfishness and a big ego at many points in the series up to season 8. He's told a lot of lies (sometimes to the point of gaslighting), he's gone behind Dean's back to do things that affect Dean's life, he's taken traumatic experiences Dean opened up to him about and ultimately harmed Dean with them, he's shown resentments and anger, he's displayed jealousy, he's displayed a sense of superiority. He has never abandoned his brother to die without even trying. The Sam of season 3 would eviscerate season 8 Sam for this.

Sometimes Sam says and does things he shouldn't, but his crimes do not include "abandoning Dean to die without even looking for him" up to season 8. Many of his crimes happen at least partly because he really really doesn't want Dean to die or is desperate to save his life. He lets go of his anger at John and returns to make sure Dean is safe in 1.11. He refuses to give up and finds a way to save Dean in 1.12. In 1.22, he's willing to put John's life at risk for revenge, but in 2.01 he gets into an outright screaming match with John in the hospital under the belief that John's prioritizing the demon over Dean. Sam spends all of season 3 raging and angst-ing about not being able to save Dean to the point of considering and doing some shady as hell things/abandoning some of his more stalwart moral stances (3.05, 3.11, 3.15, 3.16). Dean's death and later, the desire to secure his safety/future, is one of the catalysts for Sam's descent into drinking demon blood (3.09, 3.16, 4.04, 4.09, 4.12). When he dies in "Swan Song", he urges Dean to pursue a normal, safe, life because he knows that at that point in time, Dean wants to get out but has always felt trapped (2.09, 2.10, 2.20, 3.01, 4.12, 4.16). Even Soulless Sam (who isn't the same as regular Sam) tried to look for Dean in 6.09 "Clap Your Hands If You Believe"—it was simply that when leads for the night dried up, he hooked up with someone because he had nothing more to go on and in soulless Sam's head that was the reasonable thing to do. But soulless Sam also certainly isn't representative of the real Sam—the fact that he doesn't care as much is supposed to point us to differences between him and regular Sam. Season 8 opens with Sam abandoning Dean in a context that makes him arguably worse than his soulless self.

(I talk about why Sam actually abandons everyone in season 8 in a very long post here).

Season 8 and 9 more broadly

So Carver has Sam abandon Dean to die without even trying. Then he has Sam refuse to give any kind of actually reasonable explanation that makes sense to anyone who was paying attention. Then he has Sam say that he's going to leave the life and Dean needs to get over it and accept that Sam's new life will not include contact with Dean (just like his life at Stanford didn't). While saying he's going to leave, he still wants to exert control over Dean's relationships and leverages the threat of leaving (as if he were going to stay) to get Dean to shut up about Sam abandoning him and then again to try and get Dean to cut ties with Benny. He wants to kill Benny before knowing a single thing about him. He assigns someone (Martin) who he knows is mentally unstable and has a more black and white perception of monsters to track Benny and gets Martin killed. He watches Martin knock Dean unconscious and chain him up in a room and doesn't stop it because he wants Benny dead that bad, but then has the audacity to act as if Dean sending him a fake text is worse than Sam literally chaining him up in a room to prevent Sam from killing an innocent person (someone Sam would normally—btw—defend based on episodes like 2.03 and 4.04 or even a few episodes ago with Kate in "Bitten"). He tells Amelia he wants to fight for their relationship then the moment Dan says they should leave the choice to Amelia, he leaves so that it becomes his choice, and then he returns for one episode just to be a homewrecker. He insists on doing The Trials while promising to survive them and giving a big speech about how he's going to save Dean from his own suicidal ideation and then drops the promise as if it never existed two episodes later. Sam loses confidence in himself to complete The Trials and then acts like Dean is the one who doesn't believe in him because Dean is caring for him and insisting he rest and this is an unforgivable offense. At the end of the season, he basically says he's going to commit suicide because Dean has friends besides him. He acts as if he deserves to be Dean's most trusted confidant after an entire season of him being an absolutely fucking terrible brother and acts like Dean is just a big meanie whose feelings are irrational.

After all of this, he has the audacity, in season 9, to suggest that Dean is a bad person who can't stand the thought of being alone. He tells Dean he's the worst person ever and they can only be work partners from now on because Dean is so so bad and evil for stopping him from committing suicide and then not telling him about Gadreel. At the end of the season he admits this was a lie. He just wanted to punish Dean (9.23).

I can see how—if you were watching live at the time (I started watching when season 11 was airing) you'd lose hope. You'd quit the show over all of this, because it seems to go on forever. It's like torture. I would drop kick season 8 Sam into a pit full of lava without hesitation so I get it. If I believed that Carver was actually saying "Yes so true Dean is The Worst™️ and Sam is morally superior <3" for two seasons straight I'd quit the show too. But that isn't what he's saying. We're supposed to read between the lines and realize how unbelievably full of shit Sam is—how deeply selfish and hypocritical he's being. How yes—Dean has made mistakes—but Sam is NOT a better person than him and has gotten away with some absolutely rancid garbage. And season 10 and 11 go on to beat you over the head with it if you didn't get it the first time.

Season 10 and 11

Season 10 opens with this dialogue from a demon:

I heard the rumors. I said "no, that can't be." A Winchester, one of us? But it's true, isn't it? Whatever soul you had; whatever boy scout code you cuddled up to at night; it's all gone. Leaving what? Look at you!

We're meant to think she's talking about Dean who just woke up with black eyes, but then the camera cuts to Sam torturing her, demanding to know where Dean is.

In 10.03, we learn that Sam talked a man (Lester) into selling his soul so he could use him as bait. Demon Dean ends up being assigned to fulfill Lester's deal (to kill his wife for cheating on him). Dean immediately clocks Lester as having cheated on her first and kills Lester for being an insufferable hypocrite... and while he's doing it, I'm pretty sure he's also thinking of Sam's flaming hypocrisy.

SAM: I never meant— DEMON DEAN: Who cares what you meant?! That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life and his soul. Nice work.

NOTE: 10.03 also recalls 4.21—an episode Sam fans have always tended to emphasize as a "Dean crime" episode where Dean risks Sam's death to force a detox. Sam does the reverse—pumping Dean full of human blood here in 10.03 and explicitly risking his death.

Sam gets Suzie killed in "The Werther Project" while searching for The Book of the Damned.

SAM I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry. SUZIE Lot of good “sorry” does me. Look at me. Look….at….me. [She points to her corpse.] There she is. The first casualty of your misguided mission. But what’s another human life to you? Anything’s worth it, as long as you two make it out alive. And how’s that search going? Any closer to a cure? SAM This isn’t real. You’re not real. SUZIE You think Dean’s the wild card, the loose cannon. But don’t you see? Making deals with witches, opening Pandora’s box down there? You’re the reckless one. You’ll do anything to keep clinging to that doomed brother of yours. How many more will die, Sammy? You know it. You have to be stopped. And the only one who can stop you is you!

A few episodes later, Sam orders Oskar's death for a spell to remove the Mark of Cain. I've seen hilarious posts before about how he had no choice but to do this because MoC Dean is so scawy and bad but that quite explicitly is not his motivation. They could have done so many other things. Throw him into space. Bury him in a really deep hole. Put him in something like The Cage. But Sam didn't like any of those options, because all of them meant being without his brother, and he's realized he doesn't want to be without him no matter the cost (10.18).

SAM So, awhile back, we had a chance to, um…close the gates of Hell. And in order to do that, I would’ve had to die. And, I was okay with that, and I am okay with that, but Dean was not. And so, he uh… CHARLIE He saved you. SAM Yeah, he saved me. CHARLIE And let me guess, in doing so, he did something you didn’t want, and that pissed you off. And you said something that hurt him? SAM Yeah, that sounds about right. [...] SAM You know, when Dean came to get me at school, I-I told myself… one last job, you know? One more job. And then when – when I, um…. When I lost Jess, I, again, told myself one more job. There’s always one more job, you know? And one more job, and one more job, and then I was gonna go back to law and – and to my life. CHARLIE You were the Dread Pirate Roberts of hunting. SAM Yeah. I guess I really understand now that….this is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t…. CHARLIE I got it. I-I do.

This all culminates in 10.23, where a very mentally unstable MoC Dean attempts to reason with Sam about them both being evil and needing to take themselves out:

DEAN: Remember when we were in that church, making Crowley human, about to close the Gates of Hell? Well, you sure as hell were ready to die for the greater good then. SAM: Yeah, and, Dean, you pulled me back. DEAN: And I was wrong. You were right, Sam. You knew that this world would be better without us in it. SAM: No, no, no, wait a second. You're twisting my words here, Dean. DEAN: Why? Because we -- we track evil and kill it? The family business? Is that it? Look at the tape, Sam. Evil tracks us. And it nukes everything in our vicinity -- our family, our friends. It's time we put a proper name to what we really are and we deal with it. SAM: Wait a second. We are not evil. Listen... We're far from perfect, but we are good. That thing on your arm is evil, but not you, not me. DEAN: I let Rudy die. How was that not evil? I know what I am, Sam. But who were you when you --when you drove that man to sell his soul... Or when you bullied Charlie into getting herself killed? And to what end? A-a good end? A just end? To remove the Mark no matter what the consequences? Sam, how is that not evil? I have this thing on my arm, and you're willing to let the Darkness into the world. SAM: You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way.

Dean is saying a lot of shady shit here, but some of what he's saying... isn't wrong?

Sam is willing to let The Darkness destroy the world, and he does, and then standing in the aftermath of a town being destroyed by the force he unleashed, Sam says:

SAM: I unleashed a force on this world that could destroy it . . . to save you. DEAN: And I told you not to. SAM: And I'd do it again. In a second, I would do it again.

Thousands of people are dying and Sam says he would do it again. This post about Sam's actions versus Dean stopping Sam from closing the gates of hell is highly relevant.

Season 11 continues with Sam taking a little more responsibility for his own decisions, while praying for Dean to live (11.02):

SAM: So . . . I know it's been a long time, but . . . Dean and I, we've -- we've been through a lot of bad. But this is different. This is my fault, and I don't know how to fix it. And if I have to die, I've made my peace with that, but . . . Please. Dean deserves better. Dean deserves a life. There are people out there, good people, who are going to suffer because of me, and I am not asking you to clean up my mess. Hell, I don't even know if you're out there, but . . . If you are . . . And if you can hear me, I, um . . . We need your help, God. We need to know there's hope. We need a sign.

And then there's the VERY long-awaited apology:

SAM When I was with Lucifer, he, um... He showed me things. It was like a highlight reel of my biggest failures. DEAN Yeah, he was messing with you. That's what he does. SAM Give me a sec. I should've looked for you. When you were in Purgatory, I... I should've turned over every stone.

Family (Sam) as chains

While all of this is happening, we also have Benny and Cas and Crowley and Amara.

Benny is contrast—someone whose goodness and selfless loyalty only makes Sam's horrible flaws stand out more sharply in season 8. Under the influence of the specter, Dean says, "Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you have ever been" and Sam can't stand it. It haunts him so bad he tries to kill Benny, and can't get over it even after the end of the season when Benny is fucking dead. He is unable to accept that the contrast between himself and Benny is his own fault.

Crowley and Dean's flirtations begin in season 9, as Sam suffocates Dean, and at the end of the season, Crowley has literally convinced Dean to run away with him. In 10.01, there is a delightful phone call where Crowley rubs it in Sam's face that Dean is with HIM:

SAM I don't know how you did this, what kind of... Black-magic stunt you pulled, but hear me --I will save my brother or die trying. CROWLEY You know what tickles me about all this? It's what's really eating you up. You don't care that he's a demon. Heck, you've been a demon. We've all been demons. No, it's that he's with me and he's having the time of his life. You can't stand the fact that he's mine. SAM He's not your pet. CROWLEY My pet? He's my best friend, my partner in crime. They'll write songs about us, graphic novels. “The Misadventures of Growley and Squirrel." Dean Winchester completes me, and that's what makes you lose your chickens.

It's this cruel callback to Sam's jealousy of Benny and Cas in season 8—how Crowley convinced Dean to finally ditch his smothering, controlling brat of little brother who can't stand him having friends, and now Dean is having the time of his life howling at the moon. The problem is, Dean also feels a little bit like maybe Crowley wants to control him too, and that isn't working for him.

Amara in season 11 goes on to further speak on terrible brothers who think they're better than you, who leave you betrayed and diminished, who abandon you. She's raging against the concept of family as chains—she wants revenge... but all the while she's in pain because she still loves her brother. Amara's attraction to Dean is based on that commonality—what she feels is a shared experience and how she wants to cut the last remaining pieces of love she feels for her brother away so she can finally be free of the pain of him—and she doesn't care if she destroys everything—including herself—in the process. (See: Dean slowly losing his identity through the MoC arc). Sam and Dean's relationship is in rehab over this whole season though, and so Dean's role ends up being to convince Amara not to destroy herself—to instead do what Sam and Dean have done and make up and work on improving their relationship.

[ladymarycrawley]

Goalscorer of my heart - John Stones

do you really think I could end this day without writing sth to celbrate the man of my dreams' goal?

Warning: fluff with a hint of smut (not proofread sorry, time's running and I have to up for work in like 6 hours)

Tag list: @masonxomount, @prideofpd, @johnstonesfc, @stonesyyyy + @footiehoemcfc & @cityzenchick who kindly asked for it 🫶🏻

(gif credits to @doinggreat )

“Hello? Is the man of the match talking?”

“Well I’m not the man of the match” You could feel John’s embarrassment at your subtle compliment by the little giggle in his voice, surely followed by his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Well you should have been…you played amazingly”

“Thanks but you’re a little biased”

“You’re the goalscorer of my heart” You cooed in his ear, hoping he would have heard that despite all his teammates cheering and screaming in the background.

The image of John blushing and making a little smile appeared before your eyes as if he was standing there in the room with you. You knew him like the back of your hand and could picture his every little move even at a distance.

“Thanks, I’m really happy with that goal”

“As you should, you know what that celebration reminded me of?”

“No idea, guess you should tell me about it later at dinner”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yeah only if you’re willing to have dinner with your favourite goalscorer who played amazingly”

“Of course I am…” Now it was up to your boyfriend to picture your rosy cheeks getting closer to a darker tone of pink as he was playfully flirting with you, sighing happily when his mind went to that twinkle in your eyes that only appeared when you were with him. You somehow became each other’s mirror as you both ended biting on your lower lips simultaneously.

“Can’t wait to be your date tonight”

“Gotta go now” He had to scream as the boys were chanting his name, celebrating the hero he was “I’ll call you when I’m almost home, get ready okay?”

“I’m always ready for you”

John rolled his eyes, trying to push Ruben away from him so he could end the phone call with you properly. “Don’t be naughty nor a liar”

“I’m not! Go celebrate with the boys, I’ll see you later” You blew him a kiss and hung up.

You didn’t expect for him to take you out after a draining game like that, in fact you wouldn’t have minded a cozy night in but maybe he was in the mood for something bigger and how could you no to John Stones?

It was impossible to say no to him but you would have lied if you said you didn’t hate him a little when he didn’t tell you where he would have taken you: to that fancy little bistrot you loved? Or to the new one they opened last week he said he wanted to try? What should you have worn?

While those questions began to fill your brain, you let your body fall on the soft carpet at the centre of your walk-in closet and browse with a desperate look through your clothes.

Better a simple but cute dress or something more casual like a cool pair of jeans with a wool sweater? What if you would have been overdressed? Or, worse, underdressed??

You were too caught in your thoughts to realise your beloved boyfriend had already arrived home and you were still there in your home clothes!

“I can’t believe it” John mumbled when his eyes saw you still standing there in your sweatpants “That’s what I meant when I said not to be a liar”

“I’m not a liar I -”

“I’m always ready for you” He mimicked the sentence you said him over the phone earlier on and you tried to hold back a laugh.

“I don’t talk like that and that’s not my fault you weren’t clear enough” You fumbled while discarding your clothes on your way to the shower.

 “I said I’d have taken you out for dinner, not that we would’ve gone to fucking Buckingham palace”

“Oh my god you’re not only a good footballer but also a funny one!”

“See? You got lucky!”

“Yeah…the luckiest…”

“Hurry up I don’t think they would be happy with having us for breakfast” You stuck your tongue out at him and threw your bra in his face.

“What am I supposed to wear??”

“Your birthday suit”

“I’m serious, John”

“I’m serious too”

“Come on! Where are we going?”

“Have you ever heard of surprises? Well, consider this as one”

“You’re not helping me”

“Whatever you choose it’ll be perfect”

“A dress with a large train??”

“That’d be perfect for Buckingham palace”

You got out of the shower and glared at him.

“What are you wearing?”

“My training kit”

“JOHN”

He giggled and cupped your face to kiss your adorable pout, the one you got when you got angry was irresistible to him, especially when he caused it.

You moved your face to avoid his kiss and your pout reflected onto his face.

“Baby please, tell me where are we going”

“It’s a surprise, whatever you choose will be okay but now let’s hurry: we should be there in half an hour” He said in a low voice as you let him kiss your wet forehead.

You sighed and tried to opt for something classy but not too over the top so you wore a black velvet mini skirt matched with a black and white striped cardigan. Black sheer tights with suede boots and a faux fur coat would have completed the look.

“Okay I’m ready” You said walking down the stairs where he was waiting for you in his gunmetal grey wool coat that you loved on him.

“You look stunning”

“You look quite good as well”

“May I kiss you or would you shout at me for messing up your makeup?”

“Kiss me, I have the lipstick in my purse to fix it”

After a sweet kiss that you had to stop before it would get too messy and too long, John drove you to the mysterious restaurant that, much to your surprise, was a new one but not the one that opened a few days ago.

“How did you know about this place?”

“Being a famous footballer has its own perks”

A smiling head waiter welcomed you and showed you inside that enchanting venue.

“This place is beautiful, I’m glad I didn’t come in my birthday suit”

“Well I wouldn’t have complained about it”

“Maybe the staff would”

“In that case no staff would have been present”

“So I should have eaten meals cooked by you? Please have mercy on me”

“You’ll have to ask for mercy later on, not now…”

You blushed and cleared your throat as a waitress got closer to take your order.

While waiting for your dishes to be served, you talked about the highlight of John’s day: his goal against Liverpool.

“It was a hell of a game and when you scored…god, it  was perfect”

“Thank you babe”

“It really was! And when you celebrated with the fans…” Your eyes got teary with emotion: it was only a few weeks ago when he said he wanted to show everyone he deserved to be at City, he worked so hard and that goal was something similar to crowning achievement.

He smiled, grateful to have someone like you in his life, always ready to support him no matter what, and held your hands across the table.

“You said that reminded you of something, what was that?”

You giggled and dried your tears with your hands before revealing to him what his goal made you think of.

“Do you remember that iconic Messi’s celebration against PSG in 2017? Like that amazing comeback in Champions League?”

“Yeah, that was huge”

“Yeah it reminded me of that”

“Well” He chuckled in an obvious state of embarrassment, clearly humbled by your reference as well as by your loving words “I’m not that iconic but thank you”

“You’re at a loss for words, huh?”

“Yeah, gotta admit I didn’t expect it…and you drive me crazy when you come up with those football references” He kissed your hand that he brought closer to his cheek and made you blush madly, as if your whole face caught on fire.

After you ate the delicious dishes you ordered, including a dark chocolate soufflé you threatened John to share with you because you couldn’t care less about his food regime that night, you suggested you should go home to rest after such a long and eventful day.

“There’s something I wanna ask you”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I think I’ll wait and do it in the car, we wouldn’t be comfortable in a public space…”

You raised your eyebrows and followed him outside the restaurant, after he paid the bill and thanked everyone for their perfect service.

“John babe what’s wrong?”

Your mind started racing as you couldn’t help but think about something tragic like him confessing to you a treason or something along that line. You started feeling dizzy and prayed to make it to the car so you could sit down and take some deep breaths.

He sighed and looked rather nervous too.

“Erm this day has been crazy to say the least and I’d like to end it the best way possible. I want to give you something more meaningful to remember, apart from my goal and the match itself…” He cleared his throat and a blue velvet box appeared in his hands. His shaky hands opened it revealing the brightest piece of jewellery you had ever seen.

“Y/N would you marry me?”

Hot tears of joy started rolling down your face and you didn’t know what to say, you only kept nodding as he had to gently take your hands away from your face to put that fine piece of jewellery that was your engagement ring on your finger.

“I take it as yes”

“Of course you silly man” You giggled before pulling him in for a passionate and messy kiss. You did expect a good night but a wedding proposal was totally inimaginable to you. The man of your dreams asking you to marry him? Mental, that couldn’t be real…

“Can we go home so I can finally see you wearing the best look from tonight?”

“That lacy underwear set you saw in the drawer the other day?”

“Was thinking more of your birthday suit but we can start with that”

[thescarletnargacuga]

:)))))))

Showtime, extremely tragic Showtime:

Pomni, even though she's in a great relationship with Caine, can't stop herself from missing home and thinking about the exit. As much as Caine tries, he can't ever fully ease her worries and she begins to abstract. He tries to stop it but ends up getting a bit corrupted as well and is forced to send the abstracted Pomni into the cellar

A/N: remember, you asked for this

AS ABOVE, SO BELOW

A TRAGIC SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: HEAVY ANGST, HURT/NO COMFORT, INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, PANIC ATTACK, ABSTRACTION, BODY HORROR, LOSS OF A LOVED ONE, GRIEF

~~~

"It's all a lie...isn't it?" Pomni asked herself out loud as she quietly sobbed into her pillow. The whole world around her wasn't real, why would anything in it be real? The voices in her head hissed and nashed the most terrible things.

THERE ARE NO FRIENDS! ONLY FELLOW HOSTAGES!

HE'S ONLY TOYING WITH YOU!

YOU'RE A STOCKHOLM CASE; YOU SICK, LONELY PERVERT!

YOU NEVER MATTERED!

AND YOU NEVER WILL!

Pomni's chest tightened. The air in the room felt thick, impossible to breathe. Her vision swam as her heart raced. A buzz rang in her ears, growing increasingly louder. Her head pounded.

THERE IS NO ESCAPE!

YOU WILL SUFFER HERE FOREVER!

THEY KNEW! THEY ALWAYS KNEW!

YOU'RE WEAK!

HE'S HAD HIS FUN! HE'S DONE WITH YOU!

"Please..." Pomni gasped for air, her lungs refusing to take deep breaths. The very walls of her room felt alive with the buzz in her ears. Digital static getting louder and closer.

A sudden spasm makes her whole body scream, lightning bolts of pure agony rack her brain. She opens her mouth to scream...but no sound comes out.

NO EXIT!!

NEVER WANTED!!

BROKEN!!

DISGUSTING!!

PATHETIC!!

Pomni's body spazzed out of control. Pixels of her image stuttered and jolted in random directions. She felt like she was being torn apart but ten thousand scalpels. Her skin started to tear, black static pushing its way out. Her pupil searched widely for nothing, the whites of her eyes gradually turning pink and green and yellow.

NO WAY OUT!!!

NO WAY OUT!!!

NO WAY OUT!!!

NO WAY OUT!!!

NO WAY OUT!!!

The voices shook her to the core. Their thunderous cacophony of screeching wails felt as physical as her breaking body. She held her glitching hands out in front of her face, watching them fade to black and eyes peer back from her palms.

~

Caine knocked lightly on Pomni's door. "Good morning, my dear! I know you said you weren't feeling well last night, and you might skip today's adventure, but I thought I'd pop by and check on you." He waited a bit for a response. "Pomni?" He knocked again. No answer.

He slowly opened the door. "My dear, are you-" His code turned to ice. Pomni was half abstracted, staring madly in his direction. "POMNI!?! NO!!" He tried snapping away her glitches. They only got worse. Her screams lagged and stuttered as she writhed in the ground.

"NO! NO, NO!! I can fix this!!" He tried grabbing her hand. It was as though he tried grabbing a red hot iron. Pain seared up his arm to his elbow, his avatar glitching. His code ached from the contact, but he tried again. This time, the glitch was so bad, he fell out of the air. His body unused to gravity, he laid slump on the ground next to her. He tried meeting her wild gaze. "Please!! Please, don't do this! Stay with me! I love you, Pomni!!"

"LI--I-I-AA-R-R!!" Her eyes flashed multicolor madness. "E-XX-I-I-IT-T!!"

Caine could only watch as her pale skin blotched to pitch. Her face distorted and warped into an abstracted mass of corrupted code. Eyes of elvarious color opened at every point on her nonsensical enlarging form. He braced himself against the wall, his unglitched hand poised to snap.

He couldn't do it. There has to be something he hasn't tried. Anything! THINK!! ....nothing. There was only one fate for the abstracted. His hand shook with indecision.

The abtraction formally known as Pomni jittered and twitched in place, staring down at Caine.

LIAR.

EXIT.

LIAR.

EXIT.

LIAR.

EXIT.

Pomni's own voice now joined the chorus of insanity within the entity, stripped of identity and purpose, forever lost in the abyss.

The abstraction lunged at Caine, intent to make him suffer. He snapped.

The dark portal to the cellar opened directly beneath the abstraction, swallowing it and most of the furniture in the room. A pitiful, glitched wail came from the abstraction as it fell. Caine crawled on his hands and knees, watching the abstraction fade from sight.

His whole body quivered as hot tears poured from his eyes, falling into the pit. His right hand still glitched horribly and stung with piercing sharp pain, but it did not compare to the pain in his heart. He gasped, choking on air and he sobbed.

"POMNIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He fell to his elbows, his face to the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't want to....I still...love you..."

She had called him a liar. "Please...Pomni....what did I do wrong? I tried...so hard...I love you....I promise, I do..."

You threw her in the cellar.

"I didn't...want..."

You ARE a liar.

"No...no..."

She always felt that way.

"Pomni..."

JOIN HUSER

He held his glitching hand, looking into the pit. Gazing within the absence of everything, he imagined himself falling. A new sensation. Perpetually casting his favor with those who lurked below... including her.

"Pomni..." His voice shook with grief. "I can't...how can I...please, come back." He whimpered.

The cellar silently beckoned him. Pulling him to her.

He reached out. His glitching digits feeling like needles under his skin.

Caine...

"Pomni..."

This way...

"I'm coming..."

[hetchdrive]

I'm bored here's my deeply unserious John/Scorpius playlist.

This has three general categories: CHVRCHES songs, miscellaneous, and pop songs about pining/love triangles.

Part I

Never Ending Circles by CHVRCHES // here's to taking what you came for, and here's to running off the pain, and here's to just another no, man, if you want another, say you need another, here's to never-ending circles, and building them on top of me, and here's to just another no, man, if you want another, say you need another

How Not To Drown by CHVRCHES // i'm writing a book on how to stay conscious as you drown, and if the words float up to the surface I'll keep them down, this is the first time i know i don't want the crown ... I'm writing a chapter on what to do after they dig you up, on what to do after you grew to hate what you used to love

Graves by CHVRCHES // oh baby, you can look away while they're dancing on our graves but I will stop at nothing, oh, I will stop at nothing

Lullabyes by CHVRCHES // i'm terrified of falling faster, lullabyes don't comfort me, so televise the great disaster, we're better off inside of a screen

Final Girl by CHVRCHES // and it feels like the weight is too much to carry, i should quit maybe go get married, only time will tell

Part II

To Die For by The Birthday Massacre // (to be honest this song is on here because Final Girl reminds me of it and I want them to play back to back)

Kiss & Swallow by IAMX // i know it's a sin but tell me it happens

Spit It Out by IAMX // don't beg the question when the answer is war

Say (All I Need) by OneRepublic // do you think you can find it better than you hide it? ... do you know where the end is? do you think you can see it? until you get there, go on, go ahead and scream it (okay this is a John on Moya, John and Aeryn song, actually, I lied)

Bang by Armchair Cynics // you manifest, bring things to be, yeah your mojo witchcraft, honey, it's working on me

Heavy Is The Crown by Linkin Park // this is what you asked for, heavy is the crown, fire in the sunrise, ashes raining down, try to hold it in but it keeps bleeding out, this is what you asked for, heavy is the, heavy is the crown (this song was in Arcane and I rotated it in my mind for a hot minute thinking about how Viktor deserved to get worse on purpose and then I was like wait... that's just Scorpius)

Nemesis by Shriekback // big black nemesis, parthenogenesis, no one move a muscle as the dead come home (to be honest this is just my favorite song they play at my local goth night but i put it on this playlist months ago and it just lives there now)

Inside of You, In Spite of You by ThouShaltNot // i am your action without thought, i am the instinct born inside you, i am the bones from which you drape, i am protective skin to hide you

It's Only A Paper Moon by Ella Fitzgerald // this fic rewrote my brain chemistry so this is on here for Harvey (my beloved)

Part III

Dancing On My Own by Robyn // i'm in the corner, watching you kiss her (this goes with Look At The Princess and is doing double duty as an Aeryn song)

Taste by Sabrina Carpenter // you'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

Is It Over Now? By Taylor Swift // (yeah i got no lyrical justification here i just like this song for the weird jealous vibes)

How Bad Do U Want Me? By Lady Gaga // cuz you hate the crash, but you love the rush, and i'll make your heart weak every time, you hear her name, but she's in your brain, and i'm here to kiss you in real life

Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan // you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

[dontyoufinditstrange]

From Under The Cork Tree Lyrics That Alter My Brain Chemistry

Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued

"the ribbon on my wrist says 'do not open before christmas'" "we're only liars, but we're the best" "its just past 8 and i'm feeling young and reckless"

Of All The Gin Joints In All The World

"i used to waste my time dreaming of being alive, now i only waste it dreaming of you" "we're sleeping through all the memories"

Dance, Dance

"tonight it's 'it can't get much worse' versus ' no one should ever feel like'" "i'm two quarters and a heart down" "and i don't wanna forget how your voice sounds" "these words are all i have so i'll write them so you need them just to get by" "this is the way they'd love if they knew how misery loves me"

Sugar, We're Going Down

"i'm just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song" "a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it" "isn't it messed up how i'm just dying to be him?"

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner

"i keep my jealousy close cause its all mine" "hand behind this pen relives a failure every day" "so wear me like a locket around your throat, i'll wear you down, i'll watch you choke"

I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song)

"we're the kids who feel like dead ends" "and the poets are just kids who didnt make it and never had it at all" "force our smiles, baby, half dead, from comparing myself to everyone else around me" "please put the doctor on the phone cause i'm not making any sense" "blame everyone but me for this mess" "and my back has been breaking from this heavy heart" "i'm hopelessly hopeful you're just hopeless enough"

7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen)

"i keep tellin myself, i keep tellin myself i'm not the desperate type, but you've got me looking through blinds" "trying to forget everything that isn't you" "i'm not going home alone, cause i dont do too well on my own"

Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year

"cause i swear i'd burn the city down to show you the light" "no matter what they say, don't believe a word" "cause i'll keep singing this lie if you keep believing it" "take our tears, put em on ice" "ashamed of the way the songs and the words own the beating of our hearts" "got a sunset in my veins" "i need to take a pill to make this town feel okay" "i need to keep you like this in my mind"

Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends

"you are a getaway car, rush of blood to the head" "we only do it for the scars and stories, but not the fame" "at least everyone is trying, everyone is shining, everyone deserves the flames, but its such a shame" "the sounds of this small town make my ears hurt" "the tide's out, the ship's run aground, we drown traitors in shallow water"

I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me

"you're the only place that feels like home" "i'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends" "i am sorry my conscience called in sick again" "i've got arrogance down to a science" "they call kids like us vicious and carved out of stone" "but for what we've become we just feel more alone" "so progress report: i am missing you to death"

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me"

"you're just the girl all the boys wanna dance with and i'm just the boy who's had too many chances" "i don't blame you for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it" "write me off, give up on me, cause darling what did you expect?"

Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows)

"we never stood a chance and i'm not sure if it matters" "i'm mailing letters to addresses in a ghost town" "i know this hurts, it was meant to" "it's mind over you don't, don't matter" "it must be said again that all us boys are just screaming into microphones for attention because we're just so bored" "we never knew that you would pick it apart" "i'm falling apart to songs about hips and hearts"

XO

"i left my conscience pressed between the pages of the bible in the drawer" "love never wanted me, but i took it anyway" "choose love or sympathy" "loose lips sink ships"

[tetsunabouquet]

Not A Prank - Eren Yeager X F!Reader

You waited at the entrance of the amusement park and you couldn't help but feel like you were being pranked. Because why would Eren Yeager ask you to meet him at the entrance for a date? I mean, you did understand the logistics, his car had broken down last week so you knew he couldn't pick you up just like you knew Eren and Mikasa had broken up last month- the girls at college wouldn't let anyone forget Eren was single. However, why he asked you out was beyond you. You were friends, sort of. Being Sasha's cousin, you've been dragging her and Connie out of trouble since you were kids, generally being the only braincell of the trio. You often were invited to group outings with their friends, but having gone to a different high school it wasn't until college that you actually became part of the group. Eren was a nice guy, even though he could be quite the hothead. Speaking of hot, Eren certainly qualified. As he approached you, his hair was pulled up in the man-bun only the seldom individual could pull off and look hot, his shirt having a v-neck and showing glimpses of the chest that had all the girls drooling, wearing the leather jacket you knew Connie had given him his previous birthday. He smiled to you, "I hope I didn't make you wait too long." "Not at all," you lied. Honestly you didn't knew if you were waiting for a minute or an hour- the anticipation had been agony. He guided you into the park with a grin, children's laughter and the screams of teenagers and adults filling the air. "I really am sorry my car broke down. The line at the Roc Bird's probably hours long at this point," Eren groaned softly and you looked at him, a small smile lingering on your lips. "Ah well, the Formule X never has that long of a line. How about we go there before we buy something for lunch?" Eren grinned from ear to ear, looking at you with such delight that you were surprised. It was such a happy, fond look that all of your musings how Eren couldn't be serious about liking you were discarded. As the two of you walked to the red rollercoaster, Eren nudged you. "You're studying my face like it's exam time. What's up?" "Ah well, I am just surprised." You said, embarrassed, "I didn't expect you to have a thing for me, really." Eren's green eyes softened and your heart skipped a beat. "Well, we haven't been that vocal about it, but Mikasa and I have been growing apart since graduation. Before we knew it our hearts were already moving on. " He scratched his neck, trying to find more words to properly confess his feelings. How in the attempts to ignore Mikasa and Jean's ever growing closeness he started distracting himself with his friends, allowing him to get to know you better. How he'd always noticed you were pretty, but had never noticed you had common ground in things like your shared love for amusement parks or a similar untamable spirit. "Well, suppose I'm a lucky gal then, huh?" You teased lightly, nudging him back. "About as lucky as this guy over here," he said and you smiled broadly at Eren who gave you a moony eyed grin that made you dizzy. "I hope you'll still like me if I end up with my spit flying at the speed." Eren chuckled at your slightly flustered but playful demeanor, "Of course I will. I'd love to see it captured on photo." You looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Are you seriously going to look at how the ride's pictures come out?" "Yes, and I will be buying our photo. Our first shared humilation, is there a better way to start a relationship?" You laughed at the thought, knowing photos taking during the ride were the worst kind of photos- even worse then the stiff faces you had to pull for your ID pictures. "It certainly would be a bonding experience, like wearing matching onesies. Even better if we wore them to class." "Now you really sound like you grew up with Sasha and Connie." You giggled but you couldn't deny they were responsible for part of your brain being fried. "You better get used to it if we're going to date," you told him. Eren tugged a lock of your hair behind your ear. "I think I will.".

[skarsgardsnark]

https://www.tumblr.com/skarsgardsnark/779840177425317888/httpswwwtumblrcomcolorful-white-ideas7798292?source=share

Can I say something? I get the feeling you didn't like that timeline post about Bill in 2023 either, because it was really pointless and useless, and kind of weird? Like, does it even matter when Bill went to Vegas? I really don't think it's a big deal. And your friend deliberately left some things out of that timeline to make Bill look bad, and I'm sure you felt that too! But you don't want to say anything because they're your friend? Maybe if you speak up and agree, they'll realize they're going down the wrong path in a fandom that will destroy you if you make a wrong move! Do you know how many times Mortox got hacked? Because they became exactly like your friend. They were delusional. They weren't living in reality. After 10 years, they couldn't cope with Bill's personal life. They spread lies. They were nosy about Bill's personal life. And so on... I'm sure you didn't like it either and you're not happy, but like I said, you didn't say anything because they're your friend! I saw them getting hate a long time ago, but after reading their latest post about Bill in 2023, my brain was screaming about how toxic and delusional the person behind that post is! They need to give themselves a break; they're making things worse for themselves and their fans. I blocked them, but I'm sure they read your blog, so maybe they'll come to their senses and stop acting crazy.

When I answered that question she hadn't made the post yet. I don't feel any way about it because I did my own mini timeline as well. So I would be a hypocrite if I got upset or mad about it.

I have received several asks about how they're tired of her and the timeline post. They're all basically saying the same thing so I'm just going to answer them all here. You guys think that because we interact on our blogs we're close friends or something but no that's not the case. What you see is how much we talk to each other. If there's something in her blog that I want to interact with I will. The same thing can be said about her. We're on good terms but you guys can't expect me to lecture her or tell her not to post this or that. I don't have control over that. I'm always telling you guys to block accounts you don't want to see. At times people get mad at me for the stuff that I post too and I tell them the same thing, block me. I'm not going to act like my hands are clean either because we do gossip and speculate here. The only things I won't talk about are conspiracy theories because I've made it known that I don't believe in that crap. There's a big pinned post on my blog so people won't be surprised when they come across us talking about the boy's personal life.

[chaoscradle]

assigning GUTS songs to stranger things characters (i know this has been done a ton of times already but i'm doing it anyway):

all-american bitch: nancy

"I know my age and I act like it"

"I'm a perfect all-american bitch"

"I know my place, I know my place, and this is it"

"I'm the eternal optimist, I scream inside to deal with it"

"I pay attention to things most people ignore"

(el could also work with this one, but i felt like with the whole nuclear family thing the wheelers have going on that nancy fits better)

bad idea right?: max

"'I only see him as a friend' the biggest lie I ever said"

"can't two people reconnect?"

"but god, when I look at you, my brain goes 'ah', can't hear my thoughts"

vampire: joyce

"every girl I talked to told me you were bad, bad news"

"you're so convincing, how do you lie without flinching?"

"I've made some real big mistakes, but you make the worst one look fine"

"the way you sold me for parts"

"you said it was true love, but wouldn't that be hard? you can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart"

"I loved you truly. gotta laugh at the stupidity"

lacy: el

"I linger all the time, watchin', hidden in plain sight"

"aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?"

"I feel your compliments like bullets on skin"

"and I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you"

ballad of a homeschooled girl: mike

"and I hate all my clothes, feels like my skin doesn't fit right over my bones"

"the party's done, and I'm no fun, I know I know, I know, I know"

"I made it weird, I made it worse"

"everything I do is tragic"

"I'm shocked I'm still alive"

(this could also work for robin tbh)

making the bed: mike

"another perfect moment that doesn't feel like mine, another thing I forced to be a sign"

"push away all the people who know me the best"

"every good thing has turned into something I dread"

"and I tell someone I love them, just as a distraction"

logical: will (psa this is from will's pov i don't think any of this of mike)

"come for me like a savior, and I'd put myself through hell for you"

"and I fell for you like rain falls from a February sky, but now the current's stronger and I couldn't get out if I tried"

"oh, why do I do this? I look so stupid thinking two plus two equals five, and I'm the love of your life"

"'cause if rain don't pour and sun don't shine, then changing you is possible"

"you lied, you lied, you lied"

"I guess love is never logical"

"the sky is green, the grass is red, and you mean all those words you said"

"I know I'm half responsible, and that makes me feel horrible"

"I know I could've stopped it all, god why didn't I stop it all?"

"'cause loving you is loving every argument you held over my head"

get him back!: max (NOT about lumax, just how she'd handle a different breakup)

"I want sweet revenge, I want him again"

"do I love him? do I hate him? I guess it's up and down"

"I wanna make him really jealous, I wanna make him feel bad"

"I wanna break his heart, then be the one to stitch it up"

"I wanna meet his mom, just to tell her her son sucks"

love is embarrassing: will

"and then, you kissed some girl from high school"

"waited by my phone like a goddamn fool"

"god, love's embarrassing as hell"

"and I consoled you while you cried over your ex-girlfriend's new guy" (minus the new guy part)

"you found a new version of me"

"I give up, I give up, but I keep comin' back for more"

the grudge: lucas

"how could anyone do the things you did so easily?"

"I try to be tough, I try to be mean, but even after all this, you're still everything to me, and I know you don't care, I guess that's fine"

"one phone call from you and my entire world was changed"

"and I doubt you ever think about the damage that you did, but I hold onto every detail like my life depends on it"

"and I know in my heart, hurt people hurt people"

(this song doesn't 100% represent lucas and max's relationship in s4 imo but it comes the closest)

pretty isn't pretty: el

"there's always something in the mirror that I think looks wrong"

"when pretty isn't pretty enough, what do you do?"

"I could change up my body and change up my face, I could try every lipstick in every shade, but I'd always feel the same"

"fix the thing you hated, and you'd still feel insecure"

"I chased some dumb ideal my whole fucking life, and none of it matters and none of it ends"

teenage dream: will

"they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if I don't?"

"when am I gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise?"

"I'll blow out the candles, happy birthday to me" (birthdaygate)

"but I fear that they already got all the best parts of me"

"will I spend all the rest of my years wishin' I could go back?"

[munchmemes]

olivia rodrigo lyrics, GUTS edition

❛  i feel light as a feather and as stiff as a board.  ❜

❛ i pay attention to things that most people ignore. ❜

❛ i make light of the darkness. i've got sun in my motherfuckin' pocket. ❜

❛ i forgive and i forget. ❜

❛ i got class and integrity just like a goddamn Kennedy, i swear. with love to spare. ❜

❛ i know my place and this is it. ❜

❛ i don't get angry when i'm pissed, i'm an eternal optimist. ❜

❛ i scream on the inside to deal with it. ❜

❛ i'm sexy and i'm kind. ❜

❛ haven't heard from you in a couple of months but i'm out right now and i'm all fucked up. ❜

❛ i'm sensing some undertone. ❜

❛ i know we're done, i know we're through but, god, when i look at you my brain goes 'ahhhhhh'. ❜

❛ seeing [you/them] tonight. it's a bad idea, right? ❜

❛ fuck it, it's fine. ❜

❛ yes, i know that [they're] my ex but can't two people reconnect? ❜

❛ i only see [you/them] as a friend. the biggest lie i ever said. ❜

❛ i told [you/them] i was asleep but i never said where or in whose sheets. ❜

❛ i'm sure i've seen much hotter [people] but i really can't remember when. ❜

❛ how's the castle built off people you pretend to care about? ❜

❛ i loved [you/them] truly. you gotta laugh at the stupidity. ❜

❛ i've made some real big mistakes but you make the worst one look fine. ❜

❛ i used to think i was smart but [you/they] made me look so naive. ❜

❛ everyone i ever talked to told me [you/they] were bad, bad news. [you/they] called them crazy. god, i hate the way i called them crazy too. ❜

❛ you're so convincing. how do you lie without flinching? ❜

❛ [you/they] said it was true love but wouldn't that be hard? [you/they] can't love anyone. that would mean [you/they] had a heart. ❜

❛ aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of Hell? ❜

❛ did i ever tell you that i'm not doing well? ❜

❛ i feel your compliments like bullets on skin. ❜

❛ i try but it takes over my life. i see you everywhere. ❜

❛ well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist? ❜

❛ it's like you're out to get me. you poison every little thing that i do. ❜

❛ i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you. ❜

❛ i despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you. ❜

❛ cat got my tongue. ❜

❛ the party's done and i'm no fun. i know, i know. ❜

❛ i broke a glass, i tripped and fell. i told secrets i shouldn't tell. ❜

❛ i stumbled over all my words. i made it weird and i made it worse. ❜

❛ each time i step outside, it's social suicide. ❜

❛ i'm shocked i'm still alive. ❜

❛ another thing i ruined. i used to do it for fun. ❜

❛ sometimes i feel like i don't wanna be where i am. ❜

❛ i push away all the people who know me the best. ❜

❛ every good thing has turned into something i dread. ❜

❛ i'm playing the victim so well in my head but it's me who's been making the bed. ❜

❛ they tell me that they love me like i'm some tourist attraction. ❜

❛ i got the things i wanted, it's just not what i imagined. ❜

❛ come for me like a savior and i'd put myself through hell for you. ❜

❛ you convinced me it was all in my mind. and now you got me thinking two plus two equals five and i'm the love of your life. ❜

❛ no, love is never logical. ❜

❛ all the things you did to me. you lied, you lied, you lied. ❜

❛ our problems are all solvable 'cause loving you is loving every argument you held over my head. ❜

❛ 'cause if rain don't pour and sun don't shine then changing you is possible. ❜

❛ i know i'm half responsible and that makes me feel horrible. ❜

❛ i know i could have stopped it all. god, why didn't i stop it all? ❜

❛ do i love them? do i hate them? i guess it's up and down. ❜

❛ i wanna get them back. i wanna make them really jealous. i wanna make them feel bad. ❜

❛ oh, i want sweet revenge and i want [them/you] again. ❜

❛ i pour my little heart out but as i'm hitting send, i picture all the faces of my disappointed friends. ❜

❛ i am my father's daughter so maybe i could fix [them]. ❜

❛ i wanna break [your/their] heart then be the one to stitch it up. ❜

❛ i wanna meet [their/your] mom just to tell her her child sucks. ❜

❛ i told my friends you were the one after i'd known you like a month. ❜

❛ god, love's fucking embarrassing. ❜

❛ just watch as i crucify myself for some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning. ❜

❛ i consoled [you/them] while [you/they] cried over [your/their] ex-girlfriend's new guy. how could i be so stupid? ❜

❛ you found a new version of me and i damn near started World War III. ❜

❛ i give up. i give up everything. i placed my bets and it's not worth anything. ❜

❛ you took everything i loved and crushed it in between your fingers. ❜

❛ i doubt you ever think about the damage that you did but i hold on to every detail like my life depends on it. ❜

❛ my undying love, now i hold it like a grudge. ❜

❛ i say i don't care, i say that i'm fine but you know i can't let it go. i've tried. i've tried for so long. ❜

❛ it takes strength to forgive but i don't feel strong. ❜

❛ i fantasize about a time you're a little fucking sorry. ❜

❛ we both drew blood but, man, those cuts were never equal. ❜

❛ you have everything and you still want more. ❜

❛ even after all this, you're still everything to me. ❜

❛ it takes strength to forgive but i'm not quite sure i'm there yet. ❜

❛ there's always something in the mirror that i think looks wrong. ❜

❛ when pretty isn't pretty enough, what do you do? ❜

❛ you can win the battle but you'll never win the war. ❜

❛ you can fix the things you hated and you'd still feel so insecure. ❜

❛ i chased some dumb ideal my whole fucking life and none of it matters and none of it ends. you just feel like shit over and over again. ❜

❛ when am i gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise? ❜

❛ i fear that they already got all the best parts of me. ❜

❛ will i spend all the rest of my years wishing i could go back? ❜

❛ they all say that it gets better the more you grow but what if i don't? ❜

[blackjackkent]

(Jarringly, if you go straight to a long rest from Gortash, the game forgets about all the Karlach drama and she's all like "HEY! ^_^" when you go to chat with her, but then the next morning she has an exclamation mark over her head and is plot-appropriately sad again. As I mentioned in that drabble earlier, I'm just leaning into this and deciding that Karlach basically didn't come back to camp all night, wandering around the city and finding someone private to cry/process/scream at the sky. Hector, meanwhile, lies alone in their tent and has an incredibly unsettling interaction with the Emperor and his own meltdown.

So we will say this is the next morning, with a slight tweak to Karlach's opening line to reflect this.)

"Hey, Soldier. I'm back..."

The sun has barely crested the horizon when Karlach comes wandering back into camp. Hector is the only one awake, having given up on trying to get any rest an hour or so earlier; he's sitting next to the campfire with a mug of tea and staring into the flames; the raw emotion of the night before has faded and he's conscious only of a sort of empty hollow feeling in his chest.

But empty as he feels, the warmth that floods him at hearing her voice is unchanged. He looks up with an involuntary slight smile, meeting her gaze in the morning half-light, though his eyes still hold something of the haunted look that he's had for the last two days.

"I've been worried about you," he says, and his voice is ragged but steady. "Are you all right?"

She smiles slightly and walks over to sit down next to him, putting a hand gently on his knee. "Yeah," she answers. "Despite my best efforts." She manages a soft laugh; it's shaky but sends light through him anyway. "I kept trying to flop over and give up, but Karlach just wouldn't let me."

He feels a little tug of a smile at his lips in response. She really is the strongest person he's ever known by far - even when everything feels so terribly dark, even when she is so beaten down that it seems impossible to rise, she is still always looking for something to smile about, something to hope for. Even when the world hasn't deserved her good opinion of it.

He puts his hand over hers, and she shifts to interlace their fingers together; he feels the familiar steady pulse of heat through her palm and it soothes him a little in spite of all the things it implies. "Did I miss anything important?" she asks softly.

He shrugs. He wants to tell her about the Absolute's scream in his brain, about the Emperor's taunting in the Astral Plane... but what good would it do? It changes nothing and would just make her feel worse. "Not really..." he says quietly. "But I missed you." He lifts her hand and presses his lips against her knuckles.

"I missed you too." A long pause. She looks at their interlaced hands against his mouth, and her throat convulses around a sharp swallow. "You know, I wouldn't have bothered falling in love with you... if I'd known saying goodbye would be so hard." She tries to laugh but it doesn't quite come out.

He looks back into the fire, lets out a heavy breath. He knows the right thing to do would be to joke back, to show her that he is being strong, that he is ready to play this the way she wants to, no matter the cost. But he doesn't quite have the strength in him just now. "I know what you mean," he says softly. The tears are gone; he won't break, he won't cry. But the words are as empty as he feels. "I'm scared of you leaving me behind..."

She gives a sharp shake of her head, and her grip on his hand tightens abruptly. "I don't want to leave you behind," she whispers. "Not ever." A long pause. Her eyes close, squeezing out reality for a moment. "If I had my choice, we'd do it all together. Life - a long life. And then we'd slip away one night... side by side... wrinkled and grey, warm in our bed..."

The ache that rises in his chest at this mental image is almost more than he can take. He tries to take a deep breath and feels it catch in his throat. Gods... I would do anything... anything to wake up next to you for the rest of my life...

"But that's not in the stars for us, my love..." She leans sideways against him, rolls her head so her face is pressed into his neck. "Ours is a short story with a few good twists... and a banger of an ending..."

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulls her fiercely against his side. "Karlach..." He hesitates. He knows the answer already, before he even asks it... but he can't help himself, one last try... "Would you ever consider going back to Avernus? Just for a while, just to buy yourself more time?"

He knows why she won't say yes. He knows, even, why it's right that she not say yes. But he has to ask... just one more time...

"No," she says at once, muffled into his neck. "I can't. I'd rather die here in Faerun -- my home -- than live in service to a devil."

He nods slowly, his cheek rubbing against the top of her head. "I understand," he mutters. And he does. He wishes he didn't; he wishes he were a more selfish man, who could demand she think about him and not herself. "I just... wish there was another way..."

"So do I," she mutters. "I've done the calculus a hundred times. There's no permutation I can find that doesn't end in me dead, or wishing for death..." Her arm slips around his waist, her fingertips dusting over his hip, his arm, his upper thigh. "This is it. This is all we have. Each other, and all the moments we have left..."

He says nothing, but turns his head to press a gentle kiss into her hair. For a long few moments they sit in silence, while the sun slowly rises over the camp.

After a while, Karlach stirs and speaks again. "Speaking of which... there's something I wanted to ask you..."

He grunts softly, questioningly.

"Will you stay with me? When it's time. For me to go..." Her voice is suddenly thick, hoarse with emotion. "I think I can do anything if you're there. Even die..."

His heart twists in his chest with the stab of grief that goes through him, somehow fresher than it has ever been. He squeezes his eyes shut and his arm tightens around her, crushing her into his side.

He wants to run, to run far away from all of this, from everything she is making him feel. It's not admirable, it's in fact horribly unfair. But nothing in his life has ever prepared him for what she is asking him for now...

Gods, what if I am not strong enough?

But what can he say, other than yes? How can he be anywhere but at her side, right to the very end?

"Of course, my love..." he whispers. "Of course..."

She draws an unsteady breath, lets it out heavily. He can feel some of the tension go out of her as she sags into his side. "Thank you..." she says softly.

A long pause that seems to hang heavy with all the feelings they have no words for.

When she finally speaks again, her tone is lighter, though he can hear the effort behind it. "Now. Enough tragedy. I'm not gone yet. And our schedule is packed with important heroics, isn't it?" She laughs shakily. "Plus, if I cry any more, I'm going to run out of tears and start leaking motor oil."

She sits up, not pulling from his embrace but turning in it a little so that she can cup her palm against his cheek and kiss him-- soft, slow, lingering. "Thanks for everything, darling," she mumurs, and rests her forehead against his. "I love you. A lot."

[englewoodafterdark]

Englewood - 1984

It's just under two weeks until Englewood After Dark releases! In the meantime, you could watch our prequel episode What Lies Beneath.

Or, if you're in a reading mood, you could check out Englewood 1984:

There is a shrill twang of fear in silence. For what does the world hold its tongue, scarcely daring to breathe, but for a predator beyond knowing?

My heart slams itself into my ribs, but the bathroom is still empty when I open the stall, the ring of the flush sounding strangely muted.

I make eye contact with a silvery version of myself in the mirror, pale and washed out under the fluorescents, and I wash my hands quickly in the frigid water. The cold bites, my fingers turning a lurid red. Great. Nothing like numb fingers when you have a concert to perform. I click over to the hand dryer in my borrowed high heels, and grimace at the missing poster tacked carelessly to the tile beside it.

Angela. She smiles at me, a frozen expression, as she looks up into the camera. Fresh off a volleyball win and still flushed with it, her cheeks rosy and filled with life. They printed the flyers in colour, and somehow that’s worse.

The dryer flicks off, but I don’t immediately move, even though I know the intermission will be ending soon. I stay staring at Angela’s face.

We look enough alike that, in that first week after she vanished, her boyfriend had called out to me across the quad. Called out her name.

The horror, grief and disappointment on his face when I’d turned around had made me feel sick. Like somehow I had done that to him. I felt as though I should have apologised.  God.

I roll back my shoulders, stepping out into the corridor beyond; the labyrinthian backstage area stretching in off-white luminescence in either direction. Vertigo tilts my world for a moment, and I cannot even remember how I got here. Right or left?

Overhead, the fluorescent bulb croaks, and the light in the corridor flickers. Darkness, and with it a conspicuous absence of any sound, falls around me for one heart-stopping moment. And then the lights flicker back.

I am alone. My eyes want me to believe it; the corridor is a swath of sparse emptiness. What could be hiding? But there is something here; I know it. A faint buzzing sound in the back of my brain, a violent itch, forces adrenaline through my body like the twitching of marionette strings. Every animalistic instinct I still possess begs me.

Run.

I almost do, my muscles bunching, but then a brunette woman turns the corner, dressed casually and with the crew headset around her neck.

As she approaches, she gives me a little smile, “only one more minute,” she says helpfully, slipping past me and into the bathroom.

I choke on my breath of relief. What is wrong with me? I need to get a grip. Forcing myself not to run, I begin to head back the way she came from. Even the clicking sound of my heels feels distant, muted somehow, as I force one foot in front of the other.

I try to distract myself, thinking of the way Abigail will roll her eyes at my tardiness as I keep moving down the endless-seeming corridor. She’ll somehow turn my bathroom break into another reason she should be first violin instead of me. I know it.

I am forced to turn the corner by the ending of the corridor and grind to an uncertain halt, the leather of my pumps rubbing together and nearly tripping me as I dither.

The silence is louder here.

The buzzing, that I had so neatly pushed down into the back of my mind, breaks from confinement, filling my skull like errant nightmares. This corridor ends in a fire escape; the dull metal door with its push bar and glowing red sign mock me.

When did I make a wrong turn?

I want to turn away from the door, to head back in the opposite direction, but the buzzing is loud and insistent.

It screams now, rattling in my brain: something is behind me. I am caught in a buzzing web of indecision. The tips of my fingers ache as my body fights to break free.

But my brain is swallowed by the buzzing. It roars at me, crushing me beneath a wave of doubt and dread. My knees are shaking, sweat sticks my silk blouse to my back.

Overhead, the lightbulb shatters, glass raining down and pulling darkness with it. The exit sign flickers in time with the frantic beating of my heart, but then it sputters out, swallowing me. The buzzing darkness presses against my skin, whispers in my ears, wraps around my throat.

Why can’t I run?

[malleablemusic]

the queen is dead - the smiths

i’ve never listened to the smiths, and have tried to avoid them my entire life as much as i can. i successfully avoided watching 500 days of dummer for 23 years before giving in and deciding i should experience it in order to form my own opinion without any preconceived notions. it’s safe to say i was not surprised by how much i disliked the film, which definitely doesn’t make me feel better about branching out now, but hopefully the smiths will not disappoint. as a disclaimer, these opinions are a practice in separating the art from the artist- i still hate morrissey as a human being. here are my notes:

the queen is dead: 3.3/5 stars

"oh, has the world changed or have i changed?" this hit harder than i expected it to

his voice is so unique and special, and i love that he acknowledges that with the line "she said, 'eh, i know, and you cannot sing'" and then to follow this up with a joke about his piano skills being worse is unfortunately iconic of him

obsessed with the voice cracks he allows himself to sing, specifically on "were" in the line "i swear to god i never knew what drugs were" because it adds such a youthful vulnerability

i love how he compares the inconvenience of his hair being messed up by the rain to "love, law, and poverty"

overall, i think the lyrics are fire, but i don't love the beat. the drums are very cool, but it's lacking in guitar/bass

frankly, mr. shankly: 3.6/5 stars

groovy fun beat that i enjoyed immediately

the way that he sings "fulfilled" and "mentally ill" to rhyme them scratches my brain

"flatulent pain in the ass" is an epic insult that i will now be adding to my vocabulary

i know it's over: 2.9/5 stars

soothing beat and singing voice

"loud loutish lover treat her kindly, though she needs you more than she loves you" felt like a slap to the face and made me gasp out loud

morrissey is so good at dragging himself, "then why are you on your own tonight?" ok ouch

"it takes guts to be gentle and kind" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

beautiful lyrics but didn't stun or wow me, unfortunately boring

never had no one ever: 2/5 stars

wait was he 20 when he wrote this??

we get it morrissey, you are alone

this was very whiny and not in a hot way

cemetery gates: 3.8/5 stars

love the guitar so much

love the simplicity of this lyric, "they were born, and then they lived, and then they died / seems so unfair, i want to cry"

"'you say 'ere thrice the sun done salutation to the dawn' and you claim these words as your own" trying very hard not to be a misandrist here but it is so unrealistic for a man to have this experience and not the other way around LMAO

bigmouth strikes again: 4.3/5 stars

immediate banger

"sweetness i was only joking when i said I'd like to smash every tooth in your head" and "when i said by rights you should be bludgeoned in your bed" HUH???? what did he sayyyyyy

"and now I know how joan of arc felt" probably the best lyric I've ever heard, once again not sure a man could ever know what she felt but sure ok

obsessed with the high pitched echoing voice in the background

the boy with the thorn in his side: 2.6/5 stars

"behind the hatred there lies a plundering desire for love" i think in this song morrissey really gives himself away in that he confuses love for acceptance. he doesn't seem to wish to be loved by someone and acutally love them in return

hard to empathize with this song not gonna lie

i like the little scatting thing he does in the second half of the song

vicar in a tutu: 1.6/5 stars

in the least chronically online social justice warrior way possible i don't love how this song is just a big joke on how funny it would be if a man wore a typically feminine piece of clothing

dumb and stupid and not funny or entertaining (though i do love a good jab at the church)

there is a light that never goes out: 4.3/5 stars

another banger

the kind of song i want to scream out my car windows while speeding down a highway

is that a flute or recorder in the background? either way, so fun!

quintessential angst teen experience of driving around in your car

some girls are bigger than others: .1/5 stars

the opposite of going out with a bang

following a banger with a FLOP

the title made me flinch

what is the point of this song?? so so lame

didn't even want to finish the song, it just repeats the one stupid lyric "some girls are bigger than others"

overall, i did not hate the album as much as i anticipated! a few bangers to add to the playlist, but definitely a few flops. this album gets a 3.4/5 from me!