#like i am not saying he didn't look good or his bone structure didn't carry like he looked FIERCE it was a good change of pace
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everytime i rem(ember) that at the end of rm jersey has short hair something inside me screams and dies
#nina speaks#like Goddaaammnit Dude#it wasnt enough that they literally SHOT his ass#they had to cut his beautiful goregous curly boy HAIR too???#soooooo criminal holy shit count your fucking Days bitch!!!#like i am not saying he didn't look good or his bone structure didn't carry like he looked FIERCE it was a good change of pace#BUT IT WASNT RIGHT!! THEY MURDERED LONG HAIR JERS#smh i just know he woke up after three days hopped up on soooo much morphine all confused looking down at ravenstan#like why is there a beautiful weeping angel holding my hand my face feels weird holy shit am i dead...oh my god...WORSE#aM I BALD???? AM I UGLY??????? JHLKSKDSSDLd REEEAL#like good news u survived being shot bad news we had to cut your hair like jk i'd actually rather die i look like justin fkn bieber#pour one out for short hair yersey...he was mad but he served#kyle was horrified but stan thought he looked cute <3#soz i had a vivid dream abt this last night and had to share#my supermodel son
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Darksiders Concept With War (2)
War was breathing deeply to even out his rapid heartbeat as Chaoseater drank in the last remains of the chaos that the battle him and his siblings partook in. His sword demanded for more, but War sheathed it regardless.
"Oh no..." War heard the human woman say.
The giant nephilim turned towards her as she limped around the dead body of a Trauma. Her legs and forearms were bloody from having used herself as a spear and lodging her peg leg into the dead Trauma's eye. She was a good distraction for it, an unnecessary distraction, but she managed to give him and his siblings a lot of good hits on the Trauma for what she did.
"Uh, so guys. Do any of you know how to relocate a bone? Or... No this is a joint. Anyways, who knows about skeletal structures enough to put them back into place?"
War examined her from head to toe as his frown deepened. As she limped, she favored her right side more than she usually does with it being missing.
"What did you do," Fury demanded with an annoyed huff.
"I think I dislocated my hip."
"Serves you right, being in a fight you should not have been in," his sister snapped.
"I wanted to help," she snapped back.
War frowned to himself. He didn't understand why the weak woman would even want to help. He and his siblings are much more powerful and capable than her, she should have stayed in hiding where it was safer for her. It still amazes him that Death hasn't dropped her off at the Maker's realm. Granted, it seems Strife has taken a liking to her and seems to advocate keeping her regardless of the dangers she faces being with them. He doesn't approve of whatever reason his older brothers have for keeping her, but he won't fight Death if he deems that the human's presence is needed.
Strife was by her side holding her hand and using himself as a crutch for her as Death said, "I know how." Death meet her half way and instructed her to lay down. As they talked War kept vigilant of the area. They might get attacked again shortly if they don't move on and he won't let his siblings be attacked while they are distracted with the human. He locks eyes with Fury. She looks away quickly and War figures that she is keeping an eye out as well, despite how disinterest she looks.
The quiet talking is then broken by a loud scream the human lets out before it peters out into whimpering.
Strife curses in their native tongue then said, "Death, couldn't you be gentler!"
Death seemed to be ready to retort back, if the way his fists tightened gave any indication, but their potential fighting was distracted by the human woman's weak laughter.
"Strife, don't be silly. He was as gentle as he could be." She sat up with a groan and patted Death's clenched fists. "Thank you. I feel a lot better now. You have very good hands."
War saw how his oldest brother physically relaxed from her words and actions. He's noticed it a lot with his siblings. Even he finds himself more at ease with her than he feels comfortable with. It's certainly a strange phenomena, and he sometimes wonders if it's a human ability or if it's only a her ability.
She groaned as she got back onto her feet, with Strife's help, then she said, "As long as I don't walk for two days I should be back to normal... Man I just got used to walking on my peg-leg too."
"Maybe next time, don't throw yourself at a Trauma or any enemy for that matter," Death chastised.
"I'm trying to be useful. I can't give you a reason to not let me help bring back my kind!" She sighed as she rubbed at her eyes. "Am I riding Despair or Mayhem?"
"This isn't a good place to summon our horses," Fury reminded everyone.
The human shrugged dramatically. "Oh well then. Guess I'll just suffer for the time being."
War furrowed his brow. He's not certain, but he can't help but think that maybe she's joking. Despite that, he speaks up before he can think. "I will carry you."
Everyone turned to look at him. She looked as surprised as everyone else, but it quickly melted into a warm smile. "Thank you War. I'd appreciate that."
War met her half way as she hobbled hesitantly towards him. He picked her up and placed her over his right shoulder and laid his right hand over her thighs so that she didn't accidentally slide off. He felt her place a hand over his gauntlet covered hand and on the back of his neck. It felt bazar to him how small she felt against him, it made something stir in him like Chaos wanted to bite and tear at nothing, which in turn made him feel uneasy as he has no desire to truly hurt the woman.
"Hey, I could have offered you a ride," Strife complained.
She giggled, then said, "And yet War was quicker to offer than you. What do you think of that, Mr. Quick Draw McGraw?"
War watched Strife pout by crossing his arms over his chest and look away from them. The human giggled some more, but War only side eyed his older brother. What's more important is that they move quickly.
"Alright, we've waisted enough time. Let's go already," Fury pushed. And War agreed as he followed her lead. Soon the five of them fell in line with Death taking the lead, Fury right behind him, and Strife walking side by side with him as he talked with the human.
War appreciated how easily the human socializes with Strife. War has always considered Strife to be the most sociable person out of the four of them and it has always made the youngest nephilim sad to see the armored nephilim unable to interact with people, at least, not in a way that doesn't end up with him throwing punches or taking shots.
"What do you think, War?" The human asked.
War hummed questioningly, having not been paying attention to the conversation.
"If you could be any animal, what would you want to be?"
War turned to look at Strife. The man's eyes were up turned slightly, his helm covering the smile he clearly had beneath it. "Well, go on War. What animal WOULD you want to be?"
"What is the meaning of this question," War asked the human for clarification.
"I'm just trying to get to know you and it's for fun."
"... And what would be the terms and conditions for such a metamorphosis?"
She was silent for a few seconds then she said, "If you were in a panic and all you could do was run away."
War thought for a moment then said, "I supposed I would consider turning into a horse if I could not summon Ruin and my only options were to run. Granted, I do not see myself running from any kind of battle."
"I believe that," She said, "You look very powerful and scary in battle. I wouldn't want to go toe to toe in a real battle against you."
Strife snorted, "But you'd go against him in a fake battle?"
"Yes. Play-fighting. I used to do it all the time with my little brother."
"So you're the eldest of your family?" War asked.
"I was... You actually make me think of my little brother the most, War."
"What? Was he taller than you, too," Strife teased.
"No. He was still a child. Puberty didn't hit him yet when the Apocalypse hit us and we struggled to survive together. I, at least, was there for his sixteenth birthday before I died... He had a thing for knights. The whole, code of honor, chivalry thing. I'm sure he would have looked up to both of you. You because of your cool armor Strife, and to you because of how you carry yourself War."
"The Horsemen are not something to look up to. We are something to be feared," War stated. Out of the corner of his eye, War saw Strife cross his arms over his chest and look away from them.
"You are capable of being more than one thing, I think," she suggested.
"We are what the Charred Counsel wants us to be," War informed her.
"And what does this Charred Counsel want you to be?"
"To be the keepers of the Balance. To be the enforcers of the rules that hold our universes together."
"Is that what you want?"
"What we want doesn't matter."
"I don't know. Maybe it's a cultural thing, but I think it should matter. You and your siblings aren't just tools."
"Well, that's what we signed up to be, tools for the Counsel," Strife said bitterly.
War heard her hum as her response and the conversation was quickly changed by Strife to a more amicable topic. The giant nephilim ruminated on her words. She's wrong obviously. They can't be anything more that what the Counsel needs them to be, but maybe that's what makes her so appealing to be around. She sees him and his siblings as something more. She may be seeing nothing, but what she sees is true to her. It's certainly a curious trait of hers... and maybe that is why Death allows her to be here. She's able to see things in a way that they can't. War knows how important it is in the heat of battle to know something before an opponent and he can respect that.
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Theory of Love Rewatch Ep 10 Stray Thoughts
Last time, Khai began his long recovery from his motorcycle crash. Charlie is destroyed and in the shop, and Khai has severe injuries. He refused Third's help because he's as embarrassed at first and his wounds weren't healing. Eventually, Third needed to step in and help him. The gangstas also broke into Third's messages to see how close he was with Un, which was not cool. Meanwhile, Two is sorta dating Lynn even if he's also jealous of Un hanging out with other people or being interested in Third. Bone is trying to be brave about his crush on Paan. We left at Khai punching Un out at a party and confessing his feelings for Third, and I know they better apologize to Un or I'm gonna need to see another ass whooping.
These dudes always start beef with Un. He has had any number of reasons to be rude to them and instead he helps them, tutors, them, drives them to hospitals, and provides opportunities for them. Now he's being punched out at a party and being yelled at because he kissed a girl while Khai is jealous. Like, we can talk about how Khai's reputation as a womanizer informed how people treated him, but GODDAMN why do they treat Un like this??
I'm feeling especially salty about Khai wailing on Un because of the discourse this year about male anger.
No one apologized to Un or asked if he was okay before the credits? We just applaud Khai saying how he feels about Third and disperse? I'm gonna need all y'all to line up so I can whip all y'all asses.
Ep.10 Begin Again
Un is better than me. I would not be this chill.
"I don't want to hurt anymore." I'm back on my Third bullshit!! Do not let your guard down, Third! You know this man plays games!
Khai is giving "But I'm here now" energy that is personally upsetting for me. It's not his fault he didn't know that Third was carrying a flame for him for years, but he is responsible for how callously he treated Third. He's used to playing up his neediness and Third responding to it, but that era is over.
Why is he so mean? Look, y'all, Third has always been a little mean. He's mean to girls who hit on him, and he's kinda mean to y'all for always being annoyed when y'all go out.
It's notable how not-cute Third is most of the time. He's extremely prickly and doesn't say thanks that much to people he's close to.
I tell you. The rituals around peeling shrimp was one of the first things I picked up on as specific to Thai courtship gestures.
I don't mind them using the group chat as a distancing mechanism to tease and encourage their homies. Seeing it written down and being able to look back at it later can be encouraging.
That's right, Third. Don't give it up after one date.
I feel like we were unnecessarily harsh about this kiss in 2019. I think this is actually pretty good.
I really am such a sucker for long-term pining.
Lynn doesn't deserve this!
Sending a messenger with files is also real. A lot of folks don't have the data structure to handle large transfers.
Oh ho. A little lie. That's how it starts. Khai wasn't wrong for giving this girl a lift after possibly bumping her with his bike, nor was he wrong when she flirted with him and he sent her on the way. Still, he knows now that Third resented all the girls and he's always avoided confrontation.
I recognize the song she's singing, but I can't place it.
🎶 Hey, Jealousy. Hey, Jealousy. 🎶
Seems like Paan is maybe not that excited about this wedding and knows ole boy is cheating.
Oh don't go into a kiss as you're crying, Paan.
Oh lord it's one of these ads.
Drama next episode!
I'm a bit out of step with the Un, Two, and Lynn plotline. I hope I have interesting commentary for them about long term pining when it completes. Bone and Paan have some flavor, but I get squicked out when teachers get down with their students. I like the way they used Ching Ching this episode with Third's jealousy because he's got so many reasons to be leery of Khai even if Khai is trying to change. Looking forward to that blow up.
As always, this rewatch is sponsored by @lurkingshan, with support from @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm. Tagging @twig-tea by request.
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Stucky Fic Recs
So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).
Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!
Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!
Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:
‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear
Rating: M, Words: 117,692
https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516
“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”
[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]
‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar
Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789
https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577
"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."
"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."
Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"
"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."
"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”
[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]
'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid
Rating: M, Words: 71297
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814
But Steve was fine.
Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.
He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.
AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.
[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]
‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends
Rating: E, Words: 67,775
https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217
“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."
Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"
"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”
[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]
‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous
Rating: E, Words: 34,537
https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736
“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”
[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]
‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic
Rating: E, Words: 88,570
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077
“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”
Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.
He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.
Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”
[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]
‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)
Rating: E, Words: 94,364
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481
“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.
James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.
“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.
“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”
“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.
[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]
'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou
Rating: E, Words: 111695
https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582
“Sergeant Barnes?”
“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.
“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”
Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.
“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”
“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.
Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.
“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.
[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]
Propietary Information by Notlucy
Rating: E, Words: 85141
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777
“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”
[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']
‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB
Rating: M, Words: 17280
https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941
“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.
So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”
[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]
‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday
Rating: E, Words:75562
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530
“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”
[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]
'War, Children' by Nonymos
Rating: E, Words: 106615
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394
“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.
Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”
[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]
'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow
Rating: G, Words: 51191
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072
“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.
It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”
[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]
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Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 3/8
CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 3/8 WORD COUNT: 4,000+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | eventual smut | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | age gap | strong/mature/suggestive language | mentions of murder/crime/dying | mentions and use of drugs SPOILERS: n/a
collection masterlist
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight
"Play the Game" Masterlist
"Do you remember the last time I was in your car?"
The hitch immediately started with that one question. It seemed innocent enough with the way you said it in nonchalance while you let your eyes roam the ivory interior of the Lexus. The two of you were only halfway out of the highway when you asked out of the blue, ultimately pissing Nanami off.
At the reminder, his knuckles immediately turned bone white on the steering wheel, his expressions turning dark as he glanced at you, mouth set in a thin line.
He couldn't remember a darker time in his life than watching you almost die from the rear view mirror of his car as you lay shivering on the backseat, unresponsive even if he struggled to both drive, not to crash and keep you conscious. The glassy look about your blue eyes and the way your pupils had blown up to more than twice their size making him shiver. It was safe to say it scarred him for life.
It was a day like any other. He had just gotten off work after a long day at the court, a mix of sadness and elation coursing through him after winning the case for a teenage girl who was brutally murdered. He finally put the man responsible for it in jail for good. It felt good to see the relief on the faces of the grieving parents; to finally put an end to the daily misery they have to go through, having to be reminded of what has become of their daughter.
But as he was resting in his study, a damp towel draped over his tired eyes and throbbing head, his phone suddenly rang. It wasn't yet 10 o'clock in the evening so he opted to answer it, surprised when he saw your name on the screen. You never really called, and the last time you did, it didn't bode well.
"Hello?"
"Suguru..." came your hoarse voice from the other end of the line, your shallow breaths and wheezes evident in each syllable followed by the sound of faintly splashing water.
"You've reached the wrong person, sweetheart," he muttered, reminding him just how Geto was your favorite among Gojo's friends. He did not resent that, but to say he wasn't the tiniest bit jealous was a lie.
Nanami called your name several times but there was no response, just loud rustling and what seemed to be the device falling on the floor with an echo.
"I fucked up big time," you managed to choke out when you spoke again, your tone slurred, and you seemed to be having a difficult time speaking.
"Where are you?"
"I n-need you... p-please..."
"What's going on?" Nanami was already on his feet, dashing out of the study and picking up his keys, still coaxing you to respond when he heard a ding on his phone. You managed to send your location but you weren't speaking anymore.
He was not religious, probably did not believe in a higher being, but as he drove towards your location, thankfully only half a mile away to the suburbs, he found himself fervently praying for your safety.
When he finally got to the address, he found a modernistic structure, a house, and there seemed to be a party going on. He saw some familiar faces, the gallery manager from the previous exhibit of your recent collection and some art connoisseurs he recognized from the same event.
He barged into the house, being handed a champagne flute the moment he entered, everyone welcoming him but he didn't see your face among the people. He refused, asking instead where you were, sprinting up the stairs in large strides when he was told you went upstairs with some people.
Nanami pretty much kicked every door open until he finally found you in one of the upstairs bathroom. He thought his knees would give out as his heart literally stopped at the sight before him.
There, on the half-filled bathtub was you, soaked to your chest. Your white hair was matted over your forehead while the tips floated on the water. You turned your head when you heard him enter, revealing bloodshot eyes, your lips blue and you looked like you didn't have any blood left with your almost greyish pallor.
Hurriedly, he took you out of the tub, carrying you downstairs much to the curiosity of the guests. "You will be okay. Stay with me," he kept telling you.
Despite your state, you managed to smile, tears springing from your eyes. "Nanamin..." you said weakly, making his heart swell that you were at least happy to see him.
He seriously thought you were going to die, but apparently, you did not necessarily overdose on the cocaine you had taken in as he would later find out from the doctors themselves. You had a bad trip and had to be weaned off the substance for the next twenty four hours.
"Are you drug dependent?" he asked when he picked you up from the hospital, opting not to tell Gojo about the matter until he got his answers.
"You won't tell Satoru, will you?" you asked.
"That depends on your answer and whether you're telling the truth," he told you gruffly, fighting hard not to be angry seeing as how fragile you looked. He hadn't slept and he felt as if his nerves were frayed.
You shook your head. "That's the first time. I promise you it won't happen again. I know it's stupid, but I was just curious."
"Your devil-may-care attitude will kill you."
"I know."
He didn't say anything more no matter how much he wanted to scold you and beat some sense into you. He never brought it up and neither did you. That was an unspoken agreement between the two of you. It was your secret which he will carry to his grave and for the last three years since then, nothing like it happened again. You voluntarily cut your ties with the people who were in that party and since then, you had been well.
"Don't remind me," he snapped at you, keeping his eyes on the road.
You���ve reached the shop that Utahime had instructed you to go to for your fitting, but before he could kill the engine, you spoke again.
"Come to think of it, I've never properly apologized for it, and I haven't said thank you enough for saving me that day."
Nanami shot you a sharp look. "I don't want to talk about it."
You sighed and held his hand as he was taking off his seatbelt. "I don't mean to make you angry, but I am sincerely apologizing for it. I am sorry because I put you through that."
Nanami held you by the wrist instead, meeting your gaze with a cold stare. "If you are, then I hope you also realized what a selfish person you are. You're right. You put me through hell. What could I have said to your brother if you died on me that night?"
You didn't say anything, appearing contrite for the first time.
"Gojo would have lost you. Your friends would have lost you." He sighed heavily, holding your hand properly, his expressions softening at how tiny yours looked in his. "I would have lost you."
At his last statement, you nodded and chuckled quietly. "I wouldn't refute that if it saves me. Still, I wanted you to know that it was a big deal for me." You smiled at him. "But that's not all. I could have lost you, but you're still here. So, thanks." And in a surprising turn of events which left him dumbstruck, you lifted both your hands and brushed your lips on his knuckles before disembarking from the car and skipping to the couturier's shop.
His mind wandered throughout the time he was being assisted into the suit that the bride- and groom-to-be had chosen for him to wear on their wedding. He had to give Gojo props for choosing well and suiting the ensemble’s piece to his preference. But he couldn’t quite concentrate on the task at hand when the scene in the car kept playing in his mind. The back of his hand still tingled where you kissed it.
All he wanted to do was see you, but you were a room away, also being pricked and pinned. He wanted nothing but for the fitting to be over so he can be with you again, regardless if it was just for the short drive going back to Gojo manor. Your course of action and words fueled something in him he thought never existed, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, hear you, smell you, touch you. He wanted you, wanted to have you for himself come Gojo or high water. He already knew that, but he never felt as strongly as he did for you than at present because he also knew, that for the first time, you were being yourself and not playing games with him.
Nanami vaguely heard the tailor say something to him, but he didn’t quite catch it, but his image on the mirror suddenly became clearer as he was interrupted from his daydream. His brows furrowed together as he assessed what the man said, but before it could drag on for too long, his cluelessness, he said, “I’m sorry, you were saying?”
“Is the fit just right, Mr. Nanami?” the man asked again, expert eyes scanning over his figure.
“It’s perfect. Thank you,” Nanami stated hurriedly. He couldn’t care less about the suit, but it was already great. He didn’t see any reason to prolong the appointment. “Can I get changed now?”
“Certainly, sir,” the tailor said. “I will leave you to get dressed.”
He just nodded and carefully shed the suit off before changing back into his clothes, meticulously folding the sleeves of his shirt before he set out in search of you. He knocked on the door he was directed to, hearing music playing on the other side of the door along with some voices, one of which was yours.
The door opened and his eyes immediately met those cool blue ones through the mirror. You had your arms spread out to the sides as three women worked around you. “Done already?”
Nanami felt heat creeping up his neck as he averted his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were far from finished.”
“Oh, shush. I need your opinion.”
He snorted. “Yeah. Like I know anything about this.” At odds to his words, he sat down.
“Your boyfriend is handsome,” the couturier commented with a flirtatious giggle as he sized Nanami up.
“I –”
He was about to protest when you cut him short and said, “Isn’t he?”
“That coming from the person who said she didn’t feel like drawing my face,” he said, feigning annoyance.
“Oh, baby. I can’t draw your face if its saves me.” You flashed him a seductive smile. “You’re too perfect.” You winked at him through the mirror while he just sat down and shook his head in amusement, picking up a magazine but not really reading through it. He just watched as you were directed like a doll to pose whichever way the stylist wanted and he could have sworn he has seen nothing more beautiful.
“Just another pin right here,” the couturier said flamboyantly, fastening this and that around your sides, “…and we’re done!” He clapped his hands, standing back as he admired his handiwork. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s fine,” you said, tilting your head to the side.
“Hmm,” Nanami butted in, closing the distance between him and you. He came closer behind you, silently ordering everyone else out of the room with a succinct jerk of his head before he stood there, eyes on your bare back. He placed both hands on either of your shoulders, towering over you.
You quietly observed what he was doing from the mirror, your expressions unchanging even when he traced your spine with his finger. His lips curled at the corners ever so slightly when you slightly jerked forward when he reached the small of your back, relishing the smoothness of your skin against his calloused digit. He lingered there, drawing circles as he met your gaze on your reflection.
“Isn’t this too low?” he asked, his breath hitting the shell of your right ear. “You’re attending a wedding anyway.”
“Oh?” You twirled around so that your back was to the mirror, while you looked over your shoulder to check what he was saying. The plunging style of the dusty rose gown dipped all the way to your waist. “You think so?” You looked up at him, noticing how his face was just inches away from you. “I think it’s okay.”
“Okay for everyone to see?”
At that, you smiled smugly at him. “And you don’t like that, do you, Nanamin?” you asked sultrily.
“I am your boyfriend after all,” he teased. “While I’d like to brag about you, it wouldn’t sit right with me to know everyone’s seeing what’s supposedly only for my eyes, now would it?”
“I never took you for the jealous – whoa!”
Without preamble, he wrapped a strong arm around you, pulling you close so that you were flush against his chest, a devious smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t even concealing his enjoyment anymore. He liked having you close like that, your intoxicating scent dominating his senses.
“Why did you say that to the stylist?” he asked, leaning closer and reveling at the fact that you were caught off guard, eyes wide in surprise.
“It’s easier to just say so than explain, isn’t it?” You leveled your bearing with his. “You didn’t do anything to disagree either.”
“First, you kiss me in front of your brother, flirt with me like it’s normal and say things like that. What are you playing at?”
“Is this one of your games?” you asked, returning his question to you the previous day. You reached up and cupped the side of his face, eyes lingering on his mouth. “Cause I’ll play, Kento.”
He has never quite thought of his name before, whether he liked it or not. It was given to him and he couldn't imagine being called anything else. But he has never liked the sound of it as much as he did when it was rolling out of your tongue. It brought out a strange feeling, spurring him on to give in to his desires instead of holding them back like he usually does with you.
It was all the encouragement he needed. Fuck everything, he thought, dipping his head lower to close the distance between the two of you until he was touching your lips. A quiet gasp left your mouth when he pressed his lips onto yours in an experimental touch, gentle as a zephyr. Your ocean eyes stared at him, taken aback when he pulled away but the dazed look you had was the same one that drew him back to you, landing pecks several times, each one lingering longer than the last.
"Are you teasing me, Nanamin?" you breathed out softly, the laughter in your voice dying out when he captured your lips, this time shutting you up for a good while, coaxing you to respond to his ministrations. He knew he won over you when he felt your fingers grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer, your chest rising and falling against his in shallow breaths, making his heart thrum wildly.
His senses were already heightened whenever you were in the same breathing space as he was, but it was always a different story when you were touching him. Hyper aware. There wasn't a better word that would describe how he felt at that moment. He seemed to see everything he wouldn't usually notice; hear his heart thrumming over every other thought in his brain; almost touch the tension in the air and feel that intense heat blooming from his chest outwards.
But at the same time, nothing mattered but the person in front of him, kissing him and making him feel all sorts of ways. He was a gonner and he knew it but he didn't want to fight it either.
You moaned into the kiss when he gently darted his tongue into your mouth, seducing yours in a fiery dance that united your breaths. His hands made their way up your shoulders, the feel of your soft skin awakening carnal thoughts, making him think of nothing but ways to own you, mark you until he was satisfied. He cupped your face in his large hands, holding you in place, unable to get enough of your taste and the sensations you gave him. They made him crave like a man starved and deprived and he wants to take, take, take.
By the time he pulled away, he was a panting mess, eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against yours, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips the moment he opened his eyes to find you flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. But that was short-lived when he heard a clinking sound on the side of his head and a wicked grin stretched over your mouth. When he followed the sound, he saw the keys to his car dangling on your fingers.
"What –"
You took a step back when he tried to reach for it, effectively holding it away from him. "Prestidigitation," you declared, sounding victorious. "I'm driving. No arguments."
Nanami sighed, his senses still fuzzy from your kiss and the sight of you whirling around in chiffon and taffeta. He just gave in to his affections for you in hopes of coming out the victor, but you still played him in his own game. "Fine. You win."
You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek, stepping off to the side to ring the bell for the shop staff. "I promise not to crash your car."
**
Nanami sat on the passenger side of the car, glancing at the fair-haired villain who stole his car keys, currently driving him to some surprise place of your choosing. He had protested when he noticed how you were going to the opposite way from the manor, taking the highway that led well away from the town. Thrice, he told you to turn back and for every reason he cited, you had a counterattack, not necessarily valid but enough grounds for you to get your way.
"I need to read through the case file and take down notes to make up for the time I'm missing at the firm," came his first excuse but you effectively shot that down by pointing at his briefcase neatly tucked at the backseat.
"Yeah, cause as anal as you are about your job, you don't keep spare copies in your car in cases of emergency."
He jerked on his seat at your comment. "Hey, I'm not anal about my job! I'm just being prudent."
You laughed at the way his voice was raised than usual. "No need to get defensive. Besides, Your initial hearing isn't going to be in two months and by the looks of it, you have everything almost done."
"How did you –"
"I saw them the first day you arrived." Shrugging, it was your turn to shoot him with an annoyed gaze. "You keep forgetting that I have photographic memory. I'm cursed to remember everything."
Truth was, he seemed to be forgetting whose sister you were, letting his guard down and kissing you the way he did. He knew he could have done more if he completely let go of his reins. You were just too tempting, too beautiful and brimming life and infinite galaxies in your eyes which devoured him and made him lose of all sense of time, space and just sense in general.
"Satoru will be looking for you," Nanami attempted for the second time which only earned him an imperious look from you. You said everything in that single action: one, that you didn't care and two, that he was behaving ludicrously.
For the final time, he tried to appeal with something which you would actually give a damn about. "Don't you want to spend time with your friends?"
"Seriously, Nanamin, they're the least of your problems. We're going camping tonight. Besides, they know –" You deliberately stopped talking, your ears turning red, evidently flustered.
"They know what?" he prompted, leaning forward to have a better look at your face to assess your mood.
But then you said, "You're distracting me."
"And you're being evasive."
"If you don't want to spend time with me, just say so." In an abrupt swerve which made his life flash before his eyes, you pulled over to the side of the road, letting go of the steering wheel after you killed the engine. "Drive us home then."
You motioned to remove your seat belt, but Nanami stopped you, shaking his head. Why anything never went right when he was dealing with you was beyond him. "That's not it at all."
"Then what?" you snapped.
Damn, he thought. If the two of you were already fighting the way you are at present, he couldn't imagine how things would be once you were in an actual relationship. Then again, maybe it was the confusion as to what was happening that was causing the unwarranted tension between you two.
He sighed. "You're just too erratic. I can't keep up."
"And you're too fucking vanilla!" you growled.
Nanami was appalled that you would say that same comment in such a way. Leveling his ire with yours, he spat, "That's rich coming from you. Didn't you date that Kamo kid?"
You were stunned at his citation of your former relationship, even more so at his childish attempt at spiting you. It was so atypical of him. "You..." You jabbed a finger at him, about to spit fire when you realized that he cared enough to notice. Your brows knit together. "How did you know about that?"
"You think I wouldn't notice that he's been following you around like a lovestruck puppy during last year's autumn festival?" Nanami scoffed, sneering. "A person like you with someone more boring than the vanilla you claim that I am?"
He was being petty, he knew it, too. The look on your face as you just ogled him in stunned silence says it all. It was as if you never expected him to ever retort the way he did. It was really unusual if he would say so himself since he never really indulged you enough to actually argue with you the way the two of you were doing at the moment.
Out of the blue, you burst out in a fit of giggles, the corners of your eyes watering. "Come to think of it, he acts more like an old man than you do..."
"You dare call me an old man?" He knew your argument was over, but he couldn't help but say it. There was an out of place sense of satisfaction that engaging you in a word joust gave him no matter how unintelligent and shallow it was about.
When you finally calmed down, you said, "I want you to have fun and have a sense of adventure for once. I swear I won't throw your dead body to the ocean."
His left eye twitched at your sentiment. "Well, if you put it that way..."
"Just say yes to me for once."
"I always say yes to you if you haven't noticed by now."
You snickered, starting the engine. "I want you to say yes to me now."
Nanami felt something tug at his chest. "Yes."
"Good." You leaned over and poked him on the cheek.
Nanami sat there, rolling down the window as you drove, letting lose and enjoying the scenery the car passed by on the way to the sea. For the first time in a long time, his face ached from smiling too much, unable to help it.
He knew it and he didn't care if he was doomed. He was in love with you, always have been and always will.
-end of part 3-
*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.
Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210716]
PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
#nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jjk nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami kento#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#nanami fluff#nanami smut#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento smut#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#nanami x you#nanami kento x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#nanami fanfic#nanami fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction
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Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Three)
The Lost Boys x reader
Warnings: none
Context: The senior officer (Y/n) is expecting arrives.
A/N: Im not really sure where this story is going, but anyhow. I'm sorry, there really isn't that much mention of the boys in this, but I guess this can kinda count as a filler chapter?
Masterlist.
My hands are shaking as I check my watch yet again, biting my lip nervously as I shift in place, my coat drawn tightly around me to fight off the cool night air, the rest of my clothes as smart as possible, to make a good impression. In my left hand, I hold the creased envelope, the edges torn and dog-eared from being handled so much, the letter inside stained slightly from where I picked it up with my hands covered in gore, the contents nearly branded into my memory by now. A senior officer is to meet me at the Santa Carla train station at eight o'clock exactly, should the train be on time for once. Since I received this information two days ago, I have not stopped fidgeting and worrying with myself, my nails bitten down to the bed, the skin painful and red, my nerves running rampant within me, resulting in a thorough tidy-up of the shed and many unforseen training fights with the hand-made dummy behind it, my knuckles as sore as if I've been in a real fight.
Even now, I can feel the bruising under my gloves smart with every movement, my fingers flexing instinctually as I watch the thinning stream of people emerging from the station doors, eyes hoping to catch sight of the officer soon, knowing the uniform will be the tell tale giveaway. My own uniform is neat and tidy for once, as the rules of the SRS state, my long overcoat concealing the weapons I'm obligated to carry around with me: a gun loaded with wooden bullets, three vials of holy water, a stake and a silver knife. Legally, I'm allowed to carry these weapons in full view, being a Hunter for the SRS and all, but most of us choose not to, seeing as the civilians tend to find the sight of them pretty unnerving, but there are some, more arrogant ones, who choose to flaunt their status for the whole world to see, making them easy targets for almost any supernatural being. A wry grimace makes it's way onto my face as I recall the time when my first drill sergeant as a Cadet stalked into a werewolf pack with all of his silver weaponry out on show, instantly resulting in an all out brawl, which only some of us survived. The sergeant was the first to die.
"(Y/n)! It's been too long!" A horribly familiar voice snaps me from my thoughts, my eyes swiftly locating the tall figure walking over to me. Elijah Finch, the lanky, dark haired man I went to Hunting School with, wearing the neatly pressed black jacket of a senior officer, the rank badges sewn onto his chest showing that he has also reached a very high number of kills, as well as a completely new status.
"It's good to see you, sir." I address him with the correct formality, a tight smile forcing it's way onto my lips, my posture straightening as I salute him. For a brief second, I see a faint glimmer of pride flash through the crystal depths of his eyes at the title.
"Ah, don't call me that, (Y/n). We're friends, and that's not how friends talk to each other." He grins as he steps over to me, dropping his holdall momentarily in order to sweep me up into a tight embrace.
Relaxing into him, I return the hug, inhaling the familiar smell of his cologne as he crushes me into his chest, clearly happier to see me than I am him.
"If you say so, Elijah." I respond in his ear, pulling away after a minute, smiling at his broad grin, taking note of the new scar on his right cheek, the pale line splitting his sharp cheekbone in two, "The hell happened to your face?"
"Oh this? Nothing too bad, just had a bad encounter with a possessed child." Elijah smirks, picking up his bag again and slinging it onto his back, refusing my offer to help him out.
"A child gave you that?" I lift an eyebrow at him, finding this amusing.
"A possessed child." He corrects me, falling into step beside me as I lead him away from the train station, aiming to get to the main road, where we can pick up some decent food without coming across David and the boys.
"Sure." I chuckle, rolling my eyes, "You hungry?"
"I could eat. Anywhere good in town?"
"Eh, I guess. Most of them are takeaways, but there's a pretty decent diner just off the main road." I inform him, sticking my hands into my pockets as we walk, hunching my shoulders a little as the cool wind blows around us, chilling me to the bone.
"Lets go there, then. I'll pay." The tall Hunter says decisively, giving me a pointed look when I glance at him queationingly.
"Sure, if you don't mind." I frown slightly at this, fumbling with the notes in my pockets a little out of protest, "When did you become a senior?"
"A month back, I think. Yeah, it was around the beginning of September or so." He replies, clearly looking as if he wants to go on, something which I am only too happy to allow.
"Oh yeah? What was the mission?" I inquire, referring to the SRS concept that a Hunter is promoted to Senior only after completing a particularly difficult hunt.
"Oh, it wasn't too difficult. There was a coven of vampires trying to take over the French Quarter, back home in New Orleans, and had started a fight with the witches that already lived there. I had to go in with a squad of Hunters and eliminate the bloodsuckers, before everything got out of hand. I managed it, and didn't lose a single member of the squad." He goes on to explain, sounding impossibly proud of himself as always, his tone laced with self-confidence.
"Congrats, it sounds like it was well deserved." I congratulate him, stopping outside the diner I usually stay out of, preferring to go to the one on the Boardwalk, my jaw clenching as I see that it is closed for the night.
"Damn that sucks. Is there another one nearby?" Elijah asks, blue eyes looking the structure up and down, hand adjusting on the straps of his bag.
"Err, yeah. There's one just over there." I inform him, pointing at the entrance to the Boardwalk, which lies a good 25 metres away down the road.
"Lets hope that one isn't closed, too." He muses, allowing me to hesitantly lead the way again.
Quickly, we make our way onto the Boardwalk, where I then quickly locate the diner and direct Elijah over to it, hoping the boys aren't anywhere nearby. Thankfully, this one is open, meaning the two of us easily get a table, our uniforms giving us some sort of advantage over other customers, even though the insignia is not a particularly widely recognised one. Sitting at a window table, we take the time to look at the menu properly before deciding on something to order, doing so and relaxing back into our seats as we wait, both of us instinctively turning to look out the window, where I instantly spot the four people I didn't want to see tonight.
Across the pavement, David, Dwayne, Paul and Marko have pulled up on their motorcycles, the four of them drawing attention to themselves as always, something which makes me grit my teeth in annoyance, knowing that Elijah will easily spot them.
"They the resident biker gang?" The Hunter asks, gesturing to the boys with a curious expression.
Tensing almost indiscernibly, I try to suppress the rising fear inside me, nodding as I reply to him.
"It is. They like offering races to anyone who catches their eye." I explain to him, only revealing half of the truth behind them, eyeing the four vampires as they talk amongst themselves, David pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, followed by a lighter, his icy blue eyes suddenly locking with mine across the space. A smirk makes it's way onto his face as he sees me.
"They do, huh? I bet you could easily beat them on yours." Elijah muses out loud, looking me over with a critical eye.
"Yeah, well the only problem with that is that my bike is back in New Orleans, and has been for my entire time here." I remind him, recalling the black Triumph back in the garage at Headquarters, suddenly wishing I could ride it again, missing the exhilaration of the ride.
"That's too bad. I'm surprised, though, you and that bike were pretty much inseparable."
"It's the best vehicle I've ever driven." I shrug, returning my gaze to the four motorcycles outside, only to find their riders gone. Confusion fills me, eyes searching for them, until I hear an unmistakable voice behind me, my heart dropping in my chest.
"So this is where you got to, kitten. We were wondering where you were." David's smirk is practically audible in his tone, my jaw tightening as I turn to face him, only now registering what he called me, a deep blush blossoming on my cheeks.
"Hey David. I didn't realise you were looking for me." I smile cordially at him, trying to signal to him with my eyes for him to leave, before he's caught.
"We got worried." The platinum blonde affirms, eyeing Elijah, who watches the exchange in confusion, "Who's your friend?"
"This is Elijah. He's a close friend of mine. Elijah, this is David, Dwayne, Marko and Paul, some friends I've made here." I introduce them, trying not to reach over and slap their reaching hands away from each other, reminding myself that they boy have gloves onñ and so the difference in temperature shouldn't be too noticeable.
"Nice to meet you, Elijah." David greets, tone sounding forced and completely false.
"Nice to meet you, too." The tall Hunter smiles, shaking David's hand, eyes flicking over the others in turn.
David turns to me once again once he's finished shaking hands, blue eyes teasing.
"Let us know when you're next free, we'd love to spend more time together again." The vampire tells me, before he and the boys step out, Marko and Paul pushing and shoving each other on their way, nearly upsetting a few of the tables.
Once they've left, Elijah looks at me with an eyebrow raised.
"Friends?" Is all he says.
"What, are you implying that I can't make friends?" I tease, hoping not to have to go into too much detail.
"Of course not. They just seem pretty interesting characters." He shrugs, looking over as the waiter brings us our food, thanking him pleasantly before returning his gaze to me.
"They are, but they're a great cover-up story at times." I reason, tucking into my food.
"Ah, right. Makes sense. Anyway, you got any plans later?" He queries, casually, cutting up some of his own food as he does so.
"No, why?" I respond, confused.
"Because I am in the mood for some hunting."
Part Four
#the lost boys#joel schumacher#vampire#david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland#paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#santa carla#marko(the lost boys)#star(the lost boys)
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