#probably will be lurking time to time but who knows i might actually come back on joshuas bday solely to post a joshua mb HAHAHAHA

[fisheito]

rereading the nuca pink doujin and seeing yakumo tear himself apart re: his snake form vs his human form all this agony and self-doubt and silent suffering and fear of rejection like "if i looked less human would u hate me" , "if u saw me in my true form wouldn't that be horrible. terrifying. disgusting" , "if i admitted i want to swallow you whole would you think worse of me"

and i imagine him asking something like this to the crowd of clan members , who are , undeniably,, a group of Kinky Fuckers

they all smile with the serenity and carefully masked excitement of a horny olivine. masterful beautiful reassuring expressions (errr..... masked to different degrees depending on the clan member)

[k-yujin]

read the tags !! // officially quit

[suiana]

(yandere! zombie x gn! survivor reader) (im such a youtube shorts kid bruh this idea came to me because of a video i watched)

did you know that zombies retain their habits from when they were humans?

well you sure as hell do now, because why is your annoying neighbour still following you around?? he's literally fucking rotting???

"shoo! go away!"

you hiss at him, shooting a rubber band at him before quickly climbing up a tree. phew, you wouldn't be bothered by him from here. it's been like this for a few days now, your undead neighbour following you around as you did your best to survive in this ruined world.

you never really liked him, your neighbour that is. he's always been that one weird guy that keeps annoying you ever since he moved in. constantly knocking on your door and asking to have meals together, to getting to and from work at the same times as you... you're so sure that he was stalking you. how could it ever be a coincidence that he just somehow knew when you were going out and coming back from work?

but now you wouldn't ever know and it's not like you wanted to know anyway. ignorance is bliss after all. oh! he's also very stubborn and it's quite apparent in his zombie form.

"bweh."

"go away!"

the zombie hits at the tree you were sitting down on as he looks up at you with what seemed to be puppydog eyes. you could only grimace at the sight before checking through your supplies. shit, you're running out of stuff.

"ugh... i'll need to scavenge for food-"

"guh!"

you raise an eyebrow at your undead admirer before humming. right, you suppose it isn't that bad that you have him around... he gives you stuff that's useful and scares away other mobs (you think he eats them if they get too close to you). you would've actually coddled him like a dog if he wasn't trying to get into your pants or kiss you every second.

"thanks."

you lean forward and snatch the bad of chips from his rotting hands before stuffing it into your bag. mn, you could probably have that for your lunch and dinner tomorrow.

"let's see... i need to find a good place to sleep tonight."

"bwa! buh beh!"

your zombie immediately starts scratching at the tree bark before jutting his lower lip. huh...

"no, i'm not sleeping in your apartment."

"gah!"

you think you're starting to understand zombie language because why are you holding full on conversations with him??

"don't give me that face. you know our apartment complex is riddled with zombies. i don't want to be turned."

"kh... gur! rh..."

"you think i'm trusting you? i swear i saw our old neighbour lurking around there and he was an olympic sprinter."

you shake your finger at the zombie before sighing softly. why did this apocalypse have to happen? things were going great for you before this. you just had a raise and you were so close to landing a date with your hot boss!

if you didn't know any better you'd have thought that your little zombie admirer was the one who kickstarted this zombie apocalypse because of his jealousy. what did he work as before he turned? a scientist?

"tn... jhn... ngh..."

"don't act all sassy with me right now. it's not like i want to sleep in your place to begin with. you'd probably lock me in there with you and i'd be trapped."

"bah!"

rolling your eyes at the sassy undead man, you rest against the trunk of the tree and shut your eyes. might as well get some rest before setting off again.

"i'm going to rest now. help me keep an eye out."

"kah kah. jah?"

"no, i won't kiss you. and no, i most certainly won't reward you with myself. you're rotting, damnit! how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"ui..."

what in the sassy zombie apocalypse have you gotten yourself into?

[yurilvr4]

mr crawling thirst ! . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

cw: monsters3x (,,¬﹏¬,,) mr crawling has a long tongue canon, sub!mrcrawling, f!reader . [MDNI.]

the room you were carried in was eerily dark and gloomy. a few boxes of something littered in a few corners of the room, worn down walls and a single table sits in the middle of the room, a creaky bed and a closet too. the lights suddenly flickered but stopped when a certain figure kneels near the doorway of the entrance.

“Mr Crawling..?” you say uncertain. he was sprawled out on the floor with his legs curled up behind him, his long, dark hair drapes over his shoulders and down to the grimy floor he sat on.

he perks up at the sound of your voice, crawling closer when you held out a hand in his direction. he hesitates to take it, uncertain if you'd pull away from his touch, but you took his hand and gripped it softly.

“You…fine?” he asks, voice like melted butter, smooth and low— filled with concern.

you nod softly and gave him a small smile. in all honesty, you were exhausted to the bone, running away from all the lurking entity's in this place is extremely tiring and your legs were worn out to the point that you think they might fall off.

“Tired.” you say, slowly so he could catch the words from your mouth. the language barrier was no issue when you and Mr Crawling would talk, it was easy to converse with him since he somehow understood you better than anyone else who's out to pursue you here.

like a kicked puppy, his head hung low and you could see a pout on his greyish lips.

“Me, sorry.” he says, palms coming to rest on your knees in attempt to soothe your legs.

he says a few words, “recover.. recover!” to heal your wounds, your blisters and your scratches.

much to both of your surprise, it did heal almost immediately after he chanted those words out loud. “Wow! I recovered!” you say shocked. 

Mr Crawling nods, his lips curve into a big grin as he cheers, “Recovered! Recovered!” 

you giggle at his silliness, he was so cute you couldn't say it to his face. although you had a feeling he might like it if you actually confessed.

“Feel..happy?” he asks, the smile still on his lips, it curves so sharp that it stretches his cheeks a bit. it doesn't creep you out but rather..you secretly found it endearing.

you nod and grab his head, shook it up softly and petted his hair, swaying his head side to side, the smile on his lips never left.

after your attempt of affectionate gesture, his body language seemed more happy. a rush of excitement runs though his body and he exclaims happily, “Me, Like ..You.” he grabs your body and practically throws himself on you— he hugs your waist and engulfs you entirely with his tall and slender frame.

“Me want together ..you.” he nuzzles his face into the skin of your neck, you feel him inhale your scent. he hums with delight.

you hug him back with the same affection, you couldn't deny that you're actually fond of him. he was so sweet and he would help you when you didn't even ask for it. 

he'd go out of his way just to find you, and save you from sticky situations when you were borderline exhausted from running all the time. he was your savior.

“Mr Crawling…” you whisper, the room was a little too quiet for your liking, save for Mr Crawling’s soft inhales of your skin.

he pulls away, you notice his smile still plastered on his face. 

you couldn't think of Anything to do at the moment And it's not like you wanted to go back out there either. you had a bit of an advantage if you were to stay here— the cons however would probably just halt your exploration to escape until you're feeling a lot better.

Mr Crawling sits obediently on the floor, awaiting any new orders or words that might come out of your mouth. He always sits patiently whenever you're around him. It makes you want to protect him just as much as he protects you.

you decide that since you both basically reciprocated the same feelings, you'd be able to show him right? The thing is…you didn't know how to suggest the idea. You'd just have to hope he understands what you're implying.

you place your feet on the cold floor and Mr Crawling immediately places his hands on your ankles. 

“Recover... Bed.” he mutters, his lips now formed a frown. 

he really wanted you to feel better huh. 

“No, Mr Crawling. Me…” you point at yourself, “Want..You.” your index finger touches his chest.

Mr Crawling’s mouth opened slightly, his jaw unhinges a little and you could see the empty black void of a space inside his mouth.

“Like.. Me?” his head tilts to the side, the curve of a smile coming back to situate itself on his lips.

you nod, trying to be patient. but you want him to kiss you so hard that your lips bruise.

“yes…Me, and you..Now, here.” you try your best to make it easier for him to understand your implications. you even point at yourself, and drag your hands down your chest, to your tummy and then your thighs. you unconsciously clench your legs together with red cheeks.

as if he could sense your urgency (which he did), he places both hands on your knees and softly pried your legs apart. 

now, if you were fully packed with extra clothing and gear, you wouldn't be having to wear your 3 day old panties And bra, the only thing protecting you from getting fully dirty was the white robes you'd always wear whenever it's time to venture out again.

Mr Crawling’s stares (?) (he has no eyes but you could feel his stare anyway) under your ragged skirt. his slender fingers splay over your thighs like he's about to tear your flesh apart. 

he dips the blunt of his nails into your skin and inhales deeply. you couldn't help but whimper and you clench your clothed cunt, juices already spilling out and staining your cotton panties.

he tilts his head with curiosity and his mouth forms a small pout. you writhe with need and you situate your hands on his head, pushing his body forward a bit. you didn't want to force him or anything but he seemed like he wanted you more than you wanted him

you writhe with need and you situate your hands on his head, pushing his body forward a bit. you didn't want to force him or anything but it seemed like he wanted you more than you wanted him.

he breathes heavily, heaves and you see his chest rise and fall. he gently pushes your body backward, and you topple on the creaky bed.

“M-Mr crawling..” a small gasp left your mouth, he deftly dives in between your legs and nosed your slick underwear, he saw the wet patch forming under the cloth and he drags his tongue out to test the waters.

you inhale when you felt his hands pull your underwear down and tossed them to some random corner.

his tongue darts out and he drools over your wet folds— Mr crawling watches you twitch underneath his ministrations.

you grip his hair and he whimpers in between your legs, his tongue laps around your heat and you whine for more.

there was something carnal with the way he held you, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs that tore the skin apart in the shape lines of his nails.

he continues to suck your cunt until you feel an unfamiliar tight coil in your tummy, coming apart and finally snapping, you see stars when you come generously on his slithering tongue.

“M-Mr C..rawling..” your eyes are lidded with pleasure when he climbs on top of your figure to lick your cheeks.

“…like …” he says, his giggle is high pitched and happy— you grab his jaw and kiss his mouth.

it was hot and sloppy, your tongue finding his to slot your lips over his mouth to kiss him properly. Mr Crawling mewls, his hands sliding up to kneads your breasts softly while you gasp with need.

he grinds his hips into yours with fervour and you can feel his stiff press against your inner thigh. you gulp as he continues to lap and lick your lips, not knowing how to kiss properly.

“come here.” your hands found his lithe waist and guided his hips down on your cunt, you move your own hips up to meet his hard cock.

he whimpers, a soft and small sound leaves his throat and he hugs your frame, grinding his cock between your folds, languidly moving his hips as you moan into his mouth.

you guide your own hand down and grab his swelling cock, it was real huge— something you've never seen before. his hands halt and he stays on top of you obediently waiting for you to begin.

he whimpers when you pump his hard stiff several times, one, two and then three when you finally see copious loads of white dribbling down his tip. it aroused you, and he likes it a lot.

"smell ..good.." mr crawling leans down to nuzzle his face in between your neck, sort of buries his head in there as he moves his hips slowly into your hands.

"satisfied?" you ask, kissing his cheek as you picked up the pace, dragging your hand downnnnnnn all the way up to his angry tip.

he doesn't say anything and just let's out soft cries, whimpering and breathing heavy into your skin. you smile wide when he comes, his sticky seed flows up your arm like waterfall.

his cries fall on your ears, whimpering like a kicked puppy as you milked his seed until he slowly writhes, thighs shaking.

you coo and kiss his cheek, his hands are on your shoulders when he finishes cumming.

"....good." he says, licking your face and you chuckle.

[pucksandpower]

Wild Goose Chase

Oscar Piastri x soulmate!Reader

Summary: in which Oscar is terrorized by the soulmate goose of enforcement … until he runs into you (literally)

Oscar Piastri is not one to get flustered. It’s kind of his thing — cool under pressure, calm in the face of chaos, composed when the world around him loses its mind. But right now, he’s seconds away from losing his.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters under his breath, scanning the area around the paddock, eyes darting from side to side.

The coast looks clear, but Oscar knows better by now. The stupid goose is lurking somewhere, probably eyeing him like he’s the world’s most wanted criminal. He barely makes it five steps before he hears the familiar, grating honk.

“Oh, come on!” Oscar yelps, whirling around to face the persistent bird. Sure enough, there it is, waddling towards him like it owns the place, beady eyes fixed on him with the intensity of a predator stalking its prey. “What do you want from me?”

The goose doesn’t answer, obviously. It just keeps coming, wings fluttering slightly as if gearing up to make his life a living hell for the umpteenth time that day. Oscar takes a cautious step back, then another, but the bird matches his pace, honking louder, as if it’s mocking him.

“This is ridiculous,” he mumbles, glancing around for any sign of help. But the paddock is nearly deserted — most of the crew are inside, probably watching the CCTV footage of his latest goose chase and having a good laugh at his expense. He sighs, resignation settling in as the goose inches closer, its beak snapping in a way that’s far more menacing than it has any right to be.

“Fine, you win,” Oscar concedes, hands held up in surrender. “But you’re not biting me again.”

He takes off, jogging towards the gate that leads out of the paddock, hoping to shake the bird off. It’s a fool’s hope, really. The goose gives chase, honking triumphantly as it gains on him. Oscar barely makes it through the gate before the bird nips at his ankles, forcing him into a full-on sprint down the sidewalk.

“I don’t even know where I’m going!” He shouts over his shoulder, like that might actually make the goose reconsider its life choices. It doesn’t. Of course, it doesn’t. The bird just keeps at it, relentless as ever, as if this is its sole mission in life.

Oscar rounds a corner, nearly colliding with a group of tourists who scatter like pigeons at the sight of the manic goose. He mutters an apology, hardly slowing down as he bolts across the street, narrowly avoiding a car. The goose, undeterred by traffic, flies over the vehicle and lands in front of him, honking like it’s conducting some kind of victory parade.

“Alright, alright, I get it! Just leave me alone!” Oscar’s practically pleading now, breath coming in short bursts as he darts into a nearby alleyway, hoping to lose the bird in the maze of narrow streets. But the goose follows, nipping at his heels like a relentless shadow.

He’s so busy looking back at the bird that he doesn’t notice you — at least not until he crashes into you, the impact sending you both sprawling to the ground. Time seems to slow as he twists mid-air, instinctively trying to cushion your fall with his own body. He hits the pavement first, the breath knocked out of him as you land on top of him in a tangle of limbs.

“Ow,” you groan, pushing yourself up on your elbows, blinking down at him in confusion. “What the hell was that?”

Oscar’s too winded to answer immediately. He blinks up at you, dazed, trying to process what just happened. The goose, victorious, waddles in front of you both, honking one last time before it saunters off as if it has better things to do.

“Did … did that goose just attack you?” You ask, incredulity coloring your voice as you roll off him and sit up.

Oscar finally catches his breath, nodding as he pushes himself into a sitting position beside you. “Yeah,” he pants, running a hand through his hair. “That’s … been happening a lot, actually.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. “Seriously?”

“Unfortunately,” he replies, shooting the retreating goose a glare. “It’s like it has some kind of vendetta against me.”

You can’t help it — you laugh. It’s a startled, slightly hysterical sound, but it quickly turns into something genuine as you take in the absurdity of the situation. Oscar joins in, the tension in his shoulders easing as the laughter bubbles up between you.

“This is so weird,” you say, shaking your head as the laughter dies down. “I’ve never heard of a goose doing that before.”

“Neither have I,” Oscar agrees, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “But here we are.”

There’s a beat of silence as you both catch your breath, the ridiculousness of the situation settling in. Finally, you look at him, curiosity shining in your eyes. “So … what’s your deal? Did you, like, offend the goose gods or something?”

Oscar chuckles, shaking his head. “Not that I know of. I’m just trying to do my job, and that bird’s decided it doesn’t like me.”

“And what’s your job?” You ask, genuinely curious now. “Are you, like, a bird whisperer or something?”

He laughs again, this time a bit more ruefully. “No, nothing like that. I’m a driver. For McLaren.”

You blink, clearly not recognizing the name. “Is that, like, a taxi service?”

Oscar blinks back at you, momentarily stunned into silence. “No, it’s … it’s Formula 1. Racing.”

Your eyes widen in realization. “Oh! Right, that makes sense. Sorry, I don’t really follow sports.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving off your apology with a grin. “Most people don’t get chased by geese for a living.”

You smile at that, the tension between you easing into something more comfortable. “So, what brings you here, then? Besides being terrorized by a bird, I mean.”

“Just in town for a race,” he replies, glancing around as if the goose might come back at any moment. “But, uh, I didn’t expect my biggest challenge this weekend to be a goose.”

You laugh again, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is happening right now. You’re probably the last person I’d expect to crash into on a random street.”

“Believe me, the feeling’s mutual,” Oscar says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But, I guess if I had to crash into someone, I’m glad it was you.”

You raise an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing on your lips. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the goose makes a reappearance, honking loudly as it charges at him again. His eyes widen in alarm, and he scrambles to his feet, pulling you up with him. “Because you might be able to help me get rid of this thing!”

You yelp in surprise as he grabs your hand, dragging you along as he takes off down the street. The goose gives chase once more, honking furiously as it flaps its wings in a bid to catch up.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You shout, barely keeping pace with him as he pulls you around a corner.

“Not a clue!” Oscar admits, breathless but grinning as he glances back at you. “But it’s either this or let the goose win!”

You can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation catching up to you again. “Okay, okay, I’m in! Let’s outsmart this goose!”

You round another corner together, darting into a small park in the hopes of losing the bird in the greenery. The goose, however, is nothing if not persistent, and it’s not long before it spots you again, honking in triumph as it barrels towards you both.

“Any bright ideas?” You ask, glancing around frantically for an escape route.

Oscar scans the park, his mind racing. “There!” He says, pointing towards a small, man-made pond. “If we can get across that bridge, maybe we can lose it in the water.”

You nod, and the two of you take off towards the pond, the goose hot on your heels. As you reach the bridge, Oscar lets go of your hand, urging you to go first.

“Ladies first!” He shouts, grinning despite the situation.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you sprint across the bridge. Oscar follows close behind, and for a moment, it seems like the plan might work. But then the goose decides it’s had enough of running and takes flight, swooping low over the water and landing directly in front of you on the other side of the bridge.

“Seriously?” You exclaim, skidding to a halt as the bird blocks your path, its beady eyes glinting with what can only be described as malicious glee.

Oscar stops short beside you, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Okay, new plan,” he says between gasps for air. “We … we try to reason with it.”

You stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “Reason with a goose? Are you for real?”

“Do you have a better idea?” He shoots back, straightening up and taking a cautious step forward. “Hey, uh, Mr. Goose? We, uh, we come in peace. There’s no need for any more … biting or chasing or-” He flinches as the goose lets out a loud, aggressive honk, cutting him off mid-sentence.

You try not to laugh, but a snort escapes anyway, earning you a sidelong glance from Oscar. “I’m just saying,” you whisper, “this is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever been a part of.”

“You and me both,” he mutters, still watching the goose warily. “Okay, new plan … again.”

“Run?” You suggest, but there’s no real conviction in your voice. It’s clear neither of you has much hope of outrunning the bird, especially now that it’s in full attack mode.

“Actually, I was thinking maybe we just …” Oscar hesitates, then sighs, “Sit down.”

“Sit down?” You’re incredulous, but he’s already lowering himself to the grass, crossing his legs like he’s about to meditate. The goose, now only a few feet away, seems puzzled by this new development. It tilts its head to the side, honking softly, almost as if it’s confused.

“Worth a try,” Oscar says, motioning for you to sit beside him. “I have no idea if this will work, but we’ve tried everything else.”

You give him a skeptical look but eventually lower yourself beside him, crossing your legs and mirroring his posture. The goose blinks, looking between the two of you, as if it’s trying to figure out what the catch is.

For a moment, nothing happens. The three of you sit there, locked in a bizarre standoff, with you and Oscar on one side and the goose on the other. Then, to your surprise, the bird takes a cautious step forward. Then another. And another, until it’s standing right in front of you both, its head tilted as if it’s studying you.

“What now?” You whisper, barely daring to breathe.

“I don’t know,” Oscar admits, his voice just as low. “Maybe … maybe it just wanted us to stop running.”

You exchange a glance, both of you too stunned to do much more than sit there and wait for whatever’s going to happen next. The goose seems to consider you for a long moment before it lets out a soft honk — nothing like the aggressive sounds from earlier. Then, with a final bob of its head, it turns and waddles away, disappearing into the bushes on the other side of the pond.

“Did that just happen?” You ask, still half-expecting the bird to reappear and resume its attack.

Oscar blinks, as if coming out of a daze. “I think … I think it gave up.”

You look at him, and then suddenly the absurdity of it all hits you like a tidal wave. You laugh, loud and unrestrained, doubling over as the stress and tension of the chase evaporate. Oscar joins in, his laughter rich and full, and before you know it, you’re both lying back on the grass, staring up at the sky, tears streaming down your faces.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Oscar says between fits of laughter, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Neither can I,” you manage to gasp out, wiping away the tears from your eyes. “What even was that? I feel like I’m in some kind of weird dream.”

“Tell me about it,” Oscar says, finally catching his breath. “I’ve faced some crazy stuff on the track, but this … this takes the cake.”

You both lie there in silence for a moment, the sky above you turning a soft shade of orange as the sun begins to set. The chaos of the day feels far away now, replaced by a strange sense of peace that settles over you both.

“I’m glad I crashed into you,” Oscar says suddenly, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful.

You turn your head to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, his eyes still on the sky. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I could’ve done without the goose situation, but … I don’t know. Maybe it was worth it.”

You smile, a warmth spreading through your chest. “I guess if a goose had to chase you down, it’s kind of nice that it led you here.”

“To you,” he adds, his eyes meeting yours, something unspoken passing between you.

The air between you shifts, the playful banter from earlier giving way to something more serious, more charged. For a moment, neither of you says anything, just holding each other’s gaze as the reality of what’s happened settles in.

“Do you think …” you start, then hesitate, unsure of how to put it into words. “Do you think the goose was trying to, I don’t know, tell us something?”

Oscar chuckles softly, but there’s a seriousness in his eyes as he nods. “Maybe. I mean, it’s a pretty crazy thought, but after everything that just happened … I don’t know. It’s almost like it was trying to push us together.”

“Like fate or something?” You suggest, half-joking, but there’s a hint of curiosity in your voice.

“Yeah,” Oscar agrees, the word hanging in the air between you, heavy with meaning. “Like fate.”

Another silence falls, this one filled with unspoken possibilities. Then, slowly, Oscar reaches out, his fingers brushing yours. It’s a small gesture, tentative, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you.

“Maybe this is going to sound weird,” he says, his voice a little unsteady, “but I feel like I’ve been looking for something — or someone — for a long time. And today … I don’t know, it feels like maybe I found it.”

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, like he’s seeing you — really seeing you — for the first time. And it makes you wonder if maybe he’s right. Maybe all of this wasn’t just random. Maybe the goose, as ridiculous as it sounds, was trying to show you both something that you wouldn’t have seen otherwise.

“I think maybe I have too,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Oscar’s eyes light up at your words, and he squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that’s both comforting and intimate. The connection between you is undeniable, and for the first time all day, the world feels like it’s stopped spinning out of control.

“So what now?” You ask, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Well,” Oscar says, a grin spreading across his face, “how about we get out of here? Maybe go somewhere the goose can’t follow us.”

You laugh, nodding in agreement as you both stand up, brushing the grass from your clothes. “I like that idea.”

Oscar doesn’t let go of your hand as you start to walk away from the park, the warmth of his palm against yours sending a thrill through you. As you leave the park behind, you glance back over your shoulder one last time, half-expecting to see the goose watching you, but it’s nowhere to be seen.

Maybe it’s gone for good. Or maybe it’s just done what it needed to do — bringing you and Oscar together in the most bizarre, unexpected way imaginable.

“So,” you say as you walk side by side, your steps in sync, “where do we go from here?”

Oscar looks at you, his smile soft and genuine. “Wherever we want.”

And just like that, the world feels right again.

[diagonal-queen]

Omg you're backkkk<3 I hope uni's going well for you!

Maybe the Hunting Dogs with a s/o who's kind of mean/petty?

Hunting Dogs with a mean S/O

♡ pairing: Fukuchi Ouchi, Jouno Saigiku, Tecchou Suehiro, Teruko Okura (platonic), Tachihara Michizou x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: How are the Hunting Dogs with a mean and petty S/O?

♡ cw: Swearing, u r a BULLY >:((, dw it's pretty chill though, non-graphic NSFW with Jouno, teensy bit of NSFW with Tachihara, mentions of violence, crime and torture

note: ahhh hello yes i'm back! uni's pretty great actually. i love being able to tell people i go to law school lmao, it makes me feel smarter than i am. uhh but i've been swamped and a bit busy, and i'm going back home for a week so i might not be super active over the next couple weeks, i'm so sorry my babies </3 but i'll still be lurking in case you wanna chat! as always, apologies for errors and i hope you enjoy x

Fukuchi:

Mf you think he cares?? He hired Jouno and Tachihara because they committed crimes, and he's more than happy to keep Teruko around. Bro doesn't give a FUCK that you're mean

If you're dating Fukuchi you clearly do give a shit about the welfare of society and world peace, so your individual quirks are just that. Quirks

He will fully let you just be a dickhead sometimes, because...like, why not?

I feel like Fukuchi is obviously often a very intimidating individual who strikes fear and commands respect from everyone else. But you? You just walk all over him

In some ways for him it's probably kind of refreshing to have someone around him who doesn't idolise him at all, or look up to him as a superior. It gets exhausting, for sure. Sometimes he just wants to be humbled and that's so okay Fukuchi, you deserve it actually /mean-spirited and condescending

Don't get me wrong it's not like you're an abusive partner! You're still obviously nice to your partner and you love him, but you definitely don't go out of your way to sugarcoat things or try to avoid any necessary confrontations

And Fukuchi genuinely really respects that about you. He's pretty similar like that, though still definitely goofier than you

I mean he won't want you sitting around with an RBF when he's at formal events and whatnot, because that really wouldn't have the best impression, but he's usually very gung ho about letting you be yourself

You're lucky he loves you man...lmao

Jouno:

He loves it. Full stop.

You two are just sadist central over here. Like he'll be torturing a suspect and you're just watching. Bored. Not a care in the world

(Jouno, I don't think you're legally allowed to invite your partner to watch you do your job- much less one like this, but...eh...)

You two are always just talking shit about people to each other, and like when you're out in public on dates you're just whispering to each other and judging people T-T

Lowkey kinda gets turned on when you guys argue. He thinks it's hot when you get heated and angry. Usually it ends in rough "passionate hugging", and the pillowtalk is when you both actually resolve the issue (dumbasses)

He might even purposefully rile you up sometimes because mf is just THAT much of a horny degenerate. You guys can call him classy and gentlemanly all you want, but we all know he's secretly deranged

Like an angry, horny goblin with a knife...someone stop him

Tbh you should probably bully him a little bit every now and then. I think he needs to be taken down a peg sometimes

Hey, he's more likely to listen to you than Tecchou, isn't he? Besides, it's nothing genuinely malicious. Just couple's banter

Oh, you guys are fucking LEGENDS at the couple's banter. Though you never do it in public, because a lot of the times the things you both tell each other as jokes can come off as really cruel jabs

Nah your senses of humour are just not family-friendly (violent and malicious)

You guys have very strange ways of showing your love and affection. But, hey, it works for you and that's what's important :)

Tecchou:

Ah yes, arguably the least meanie of all of the Hunting Dogs. Yeah uh he doesn't really like you at first

Tecchou doesn't understand being mean just for the sake of it. I mean like, for Teruko, she uses it in her career, and Jouno is sadistic and weird and also uses it in his career. You're just petty because you can be

But the more time you spend together the more he realises that you're really not that bad- you're really just more of the loveable asshole type

An acquired taste, yes, but this is Tecchou we're talking about! That's his thing!

He learns to appreciate the things about you that many others would probably consider flaws. He influences you for the better definitely...

...BUT you also kinda make him worse

He will adopt your 'deal with it bitch' attitude sometimes, but it doesn't hinder his relationships or work so it's fiiiiine

(Jouno isn't a huge fan of it though...but at the same time he kind of respects you)

Tecchou probably won't admit it but he really likes to listen to you rant and bitch about people you don't like. He just likes to listen to you be angry about trivial things, he finds it equal parts endearing and entertaining

If you're mean to someone who deserves it? Well I mean...who is he to stop you?

At the end of the day you're definitely emotionally self-sufficient, so that's one less part of you for him to fret over. All's well that ends well or some shit idk

Teruko (platonic):

You guys are literally the best of friends

She's the loud fiery kind of mean and you are the 'I will straight up meticulously ruin your life' kind of mean

You on some r/nuclearrevenge type shit and she fucking loves that for you

Like she's fully willing to plot and scheme with you and do whatever mean shit you suggest. You two are menaces and she should absolutely not be a military soldier

Teruko WILL smite your enemies. And by smite your enemies I mean she will actively do what she can to ruin the lives of people you don't like, with absolutely no remorse (pretty sure she actually commits crimes to do this)

She LIVES for your cruel one-liners and clever insults. Every time she hears one she absolutely hollers

Teruko enjoys it when you're mean to the other Hunting Dogs (except Fukuchi). They can handle a couple bitchy words so it's not a huge deal, but she's just extra amused by it

For the record you're not *mean* mean, you're just...humbling them (which let's be real they could use from time to time (Jouno, again, looking at you))

Nobody is surprised by your guys' friendship really

You're a dangerous pair. Please stop

Teruko kinda likes that you hold grudges so frequently because she'll never tire of hearing you shittalk the same exact people and events over and over again

She'll shittalk them too

Dia doesn't approve of this friendship

Tachihara:

You guys know that scene in B99 where Jake says that he can't decide if he's scared of Amy or turned on by her and then decides that he's both? Yea, that's Tachihara with you

He is a good person at heart, and outside of his mafia gangster persona he's really not that mean, and as such he does not encourage mean behaviour. But like, when you do it? Mm...

Bro is WHIPPED

Lowkey he probably gets some of his mafia persona ideas from you 💀

His mafia coworkers have no questions about how you two get along, and they generally like you. The other Hunting Dogs have a few more questions

Tachihara isn't some shy, quiet introvert, but he is generally pretty chill and a nice person. They like to playfully tease him about how different the two of you are (though if it gets too far he knows he can count on you to rip them a new one with no issue)

Dw they still like you though! Especially Teruko

He has absolutely no problems with you for being cold and blunt. It's nothing he himself can't handle, and in some ways it actually makes talking to you easier

Again, I'll stress that you're not mean to him, you're just not the most lovey-dovey person out there. But you DO put effort in and that's what Tachihara cares about, even if it isn't in a stereotypical way

If anything else, you're certainly loyal!

Tachihara loves you for all of your different eccentricities, and he's also kinda turned on by them. Win-win? Win-win.

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl, @kokoenjiandco, @pinkiipeachiikeen

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Happy

Villain stumbles through a dark alley. They had barely escaped the police after their fight with Hero. Their ankle hurts. They probably sprained it during the fight. A few of their ribs hurt. Not broken, but certainly bruised. It's a relief that they don't have any deep wounds, but it's still going to be a painful night. There is not much they can do except sleep the injuries off. Damn it. They should've seen the Hero sooner. They might have saved themselves a few bruises.

All of a sudden they hear a sound behind them. They stop in their tracks. If it's one of those annoying ass reporters they're going to throw hands. Why now? Villain hates talking to reporters. They just want to go home. “Don't think I didn't hear you.” Villain says loudly, making sure whoever is behind them can hear them. “I'll give you 10 seconds to run.”

When they don't hear movement they turn around. Even then the stranger doesn't make a move. Villain sighs. If the reporter fainted, they're going to leave them to the rats.

They carefully walk forward to the dumpster the stranger is hiding behind. They peek behind it, expecting a scared reporter.

Only to find a child, maybe ten years old. “What the-?” Villain starts to say but gets interrupted by the child. “Canyoupleasesignmydrawing?” It comes out quickly and very high pitched. “Sorry?” The Villain answers taken aback by the sudden request. The Child takes a deep breath and asks again, now slower. “Can you please sign my drawing?” The Villain blinks a few times trying to process what the Child just said. Never, and they mean never, has someone asked Villain to sign anything. Let alone a child. Signing things was usually the Hero's job, and making fun of it the Villain's. There was so much they wanted to ask but the only word that came out was: “Why?”

“Because I think you're cool. And you helped my sibling.” Now that confused Villain even more.

“I think you have the wrong person. Hero went the other way, kid.” Villain says pointing to the direction Hero ran to. “You're Villain, right?”

“Yes…”

“Then you're the right person.” The Child says offering their drawing and pen again. “I don't know who saved your sibling, but I can assure you, it wasn't me.” This kid knows what a villain is, right?

“No, no. You did,” The child said confidently. “You're the one. I saw your mask on the kitchen table.”

Okay, now Villain is absolutly confused. And a little freaked out. Where did they put their mask on a kitchen table?

“You helped them stop the bleeding! Sibling never let's me in the living room when they come home late, but I know they're always hurt. And you helped them, I am sure!”

Then it hit Villain. Two weeks ago Hero and Villain got into a really bad fight. Villain got a few bad cuts and bruises but Hero was seriously hurt. Against better judgement, Villain went to Hero's house to stitch their nemesis up. They had never noticed the child lurking from the kitchen.

“I think I understand now…” Villain starts slowly. “Yes, I helped your sibling. But we will fight more with each other then we help each other.”

“Oh…” the child's face drops in dissapointment. “They seemed so happy and relaxed when you left.” And Villain was back to confused. “Happy? After I left?” Why would their nemesis be happy after they helped them. “Yes, I haven't seen them like that in months,” The Child answers, a sliver of hope making it back onto the their face. “I was actually going to ask you to come have dinner with us, but if you don't want too that's fine.”

“No, It's alright. I'll come.” Villain had to figure out why their Hero was happy when they left.

Next part

Hi! It's a short one today, but hopefully still enjoyable. (And apperantly i have a thing with naming my snippets with emotions)

My requests are open if you want to ask for a snippet or something else!

[letteredlettered]

Hey! I really enjoyed reading your comments on feedback and fanfic this week and would love to get your input on something similar-ish I’ve been struggling with. I’m recently back on Tumblr (lurking) and writing fanfic (secretly) after quite a few years away from fandom spaces. I’ve never posted my work on AO3 before but I’ve been considering pulling that trigger lately. I’d love to share my writing with anyone else who might enjoy it and admittedly I do dream of finding some community by putting myself out there like that. However, so intimidating to put myself out there like that. Do you have any advice for someone thinking of posting their fics for the first time? Anything you wish you knew before posting yours? Truly any perspective you can share would be very much appreciated :)

I posted my first fanfic probably about 24 years ago, so I don’t know if I’m the best person for these questions, but I’ll address what you’ve asked. At length, it seems.

1. I guess the first thing I’d say is search elsewhere than AO3 to fulfill your dream of finding community. As I said in this post, AO3 was built as an archive for community that already existed, and it doesn’t have robust community-building tools.

2. I’ve tried. I have literally posted fics partly to ask where the discord was, a question I have put in the A/N that was eventually answered but not without numerous follow-ups. I have often posted my tumblr handle in A/Ns, asking people to come scream with me about a fandom. While a flattering number of folks over the years have sent me asks and chats saying they really liked my fic, there have been striking few who have come to scream at me about the canon.

This is my fault, not theirs. I’m bad at starting conversations; I’m of an unsocial, taciturn disposition unwilling to speak unless to say something that will impress the whole room. But I am also a pretty popular writer, and I have made precious few connections this way; I think it should tell you something.

3. To fulfill your dream of finding community, as I said in the above-linked post, I don’t actually have great solutions. Since discord is basically hidden, the only way I know of to actually find community is to start cold-messaging people you vibe with through asks and chat on places like tumblr.

4. Re finding community through writing fic, @reads8hoursperday made an interesting addition to that above-linked post here, pointing out that in the journaling days of fandom, it was very common to write fics in the comments or even on your journal. They didn’t get archived and in that way were effectively ephemeral. While it’s nice to have a permanent archive, they were pointing out that the permanent nature of AO3 contributes to the feeling that there is some kind of status associated with fic.

One way to a) deal with nerves posting fic for the first time, b) shatter the feeling that your first fic must accrue beaucoup stats, would be to post on one of the other platforms first. If you post somewhere like discord, it feels less like a presentation and more just like part of a conversation you want to have: hey, what do you think about this fic? Is it good? Does it need work? Should I post to AO3? The folks there can help encourage and cheerlead you to post somewhere more intimidating, like AO3.

But okay, you also said you wanted to share your fics, and AO3 is an excellent place for that, and imo, the best, so here are some further ideas about how to post fic on AO3 without feeling like you might die of stage fright:

5. Title your fic something you would want to read. Write a summary for your fic that would make you want to click on it. Do not title your fic something you think the most people will click on. Do not write a summary you think will entice the most people. Giving your fic the title and summary that would attract you is setting up the expectation, for yourself, that this fic is for you, and maybe, a little bit, readers like you—instead of for a big audience that will accrue the most stats.

I say this as someone whose fic summaries have been endlessly mocked and derided. I’ve literally had people come into my comments angry at me because my summary wasn’t “eloquent” enough to let them know my fic was “good” and so they “missed out” on reading it for far “too long.” It’s a wild world out there, let me tell you.

But my summaries have also been complimented. They have been what made someone click. In the end I’m putting this out there for someone who likes what I do, and it’s been really liberating to say to myself, “You know what? I would read this. And the people who wouldn’t? Maybe they’re not the readers I’m interested in.”

6. I think setting both hopes and also setting expectations around that kind of audience—an audience who wants to hear what you have to say—rather than stats, is important. Ultimately, if you’re writing to be popular, or to attain a certain number of comments or kudos, you’re going to be disappointed. But if you’re sharing what you’ve written because you want to reach people who like what you have to say, if you don’t get comments and kudos, then the problem is that those people haven’t found you, not that what you have to say is worthless.

And I think bearing that in mind can soothe a lot of the heartache around posting a fic that doesn’t do well.

I posted a fic in a fandom that was new for me two years ago. It was the juggernaut pairing in a megafandom, the kind of fandom where even new authors get over a hundred kudos and a decent number of comments. But my fic was a little darker than what seemed to be the norm for the pairing on AO3; it didn’t have porn, and it didn’t have a very strong plot with an ending.

This fic tanked, stats-wise. But my conclusion is that the people who would’ve liked this fic didn’t see it, or even that the people who would’ve liked this fic aren’t even in the fandom, because they saw how much fluff there was on AO3, or the canon is too light-hearted for them. I didn’t conclude my writing sucked or that it was a bad story. Some people might think that! But what I told myself was I just didn’t find my audience.

You might say it’s easy for me to say that because I am a pretty popular author who does have an audience with most other things I write. I would agree I am a very confident writer, but I do think, even if you don’t have my kind of confidence, going into it knowing that not everyone’s going to love it can really help.

7. Relatedly, I think that loving what you’ve written, working on it and editing it and creating something that you care about and adore, something that is exactly what you want, can help with feeling proud no matter what. You might think that if, then, you don’t get a lot of comments and kudos also adoring it, it can feel demoralizing, and it can. It can definitely feel that way.

But there is something really liberating in creating a thing that makes you happy. And if you honest-to-god wrote something that you love, I guarantee someone else will love it. They might not find you on AO3, which can be really disappointing. But think of how many times you’ve loved something strange or unusual you thought no one had ever even thought about before, and then you read a book or saw a post or a video and realized there was a whole world out there that loved it too. There is a whole world out there, and they’re there for you. You’re sending a signal out there to the world. Maybe it can really touch someone.

8. Since I’m suggesting that the trick is really “finding your audience” some people conclude that what they really need to do is market their fic, really sell it to people, link it every chance they get, beg authors they like to read it, etc. I really recommend against this. People will think it looks gauche, but who gives a fuck what they think. What’s really detrimental about it is that if you go hawking your wares like that and you’re still not getting the attention and validation you’re craving, you’re going to be even more disappointed, and it’s going to feel really bad.

I’m not saying “let the universe do its work,” or anything mystic. Fic does require a certain amount of signal-boosting so people know what’s out there. Certainly, post a link to your fic on tumblr, mention it in discord, tweet it on bluesky, or wherever. My wife even tells me I have to reblog my fic posts on tumblr a few times so people don’t miss it in their feed. All of that is fine. But if you are giving your whole self to “finding your audience” and you don’t find it, it’s going to leave you raw and unwanted.

9. All right, so you’ve written the fic you love and you’ve prepped yourself for the idea that you’re just looking for readers to love what you love—and yet, somehow, you’re still concerned about stats. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Almost everyone is concerned about stats. It’s impossible not to fret over it in this economy environment.

People think I must never be concerned about getting a little kudos because I get a lot. I really think people think there’s some kind of popularity threshold where people must feel they have “arrived,” where they no longer care about being popular. I’m not sure where they are getting this idea. It’s just not true. Everyone wants praise and attention; they don’t stop because they get it.

So yes, I think about stats. I think about them a lot, and you probably do, too. That’s okay. Here are some more things you can do:

10. Set expectations around this too, and set them very, very low. One thing that people don’t understand about expectation-setting is that it requires some real time and imagination. Don’t just tell yourself, “I’m going to get two kudos” and that’s all. Imagine your timeline. Imagine looking at your fic’s stats. And imagine how you’re going to feel when you see that stat.

For instance, if I imagine two kudos is all the attention my fic will ever get, I don’t imagine that one minute after I post, I’ll see it got two kudos. I imagine that a week later, I will be looking at my fic, and I will see that it has two kudos. I check in with myself--how does it feel? A little disappointing, maybe. I thought more people would read it. What will I do next? Maybe I’ll go out for a fun coffee with my wife. Ah, it’s not that bad, really. It’s too bad only two people kudos’ed it—but in the end, it wasn’t the end of the world.

Now, imagine I set my expectations at two and I got three kudos—well, that feels spectacular! And if I get my two kudos, well, okay, maybe it feels a little worse than I imagined, but it’s still not that bad. But imagine if I was expecting five and only got two—I think I would be crushed.

11. I will make this a separate point because I think it’s important—really, imagine how your email will look. There’s a thing we do with our phones, where we get hopeful someone has messaged us, or we get hopeful that there will be something new for us, that someone will have paid attention to us in some way. Then we look at our phone and there’s nothing for us. It’s crushing. The chemicals in your body cause your whole being to plummet. And then the next time you look at your phone they cause you to anticipate, to get tense and stress again, and then when your phone has nothing for you, you’re that much more depleted.

You are putting your body through a roller coaster. Many people’s solution is not to look at their phone, but I don’t actually think this is a great idea for many people, because they will fail. They will fail, be crushed by whatever attention they didn’t receive on their phone, AND they will feel bad that they failed to stay away from their phone.

Meanwhile, if you say to yourself: what am I hoping to see when I look at my phone? What can I realistically expect from my phone at this moment? How will I feel when I see it? What will I do after that? Then you can manage these expectations much more easily.

12. Relatedly, I would suggest you have an activity planned that will start the moment after you post your fic—an activity that takes you away from your computer and, if possible, your phone for four to eight hours. Going to the cinema is a great idea for a few of those hours, because most people are really able to keep their phone off for the duration. I like to go out with friends after I post a fic, but I am not someone who really looks at her phone during social engagements.

I remember once I posted a fic and went directly to an anti-Dobbs protest; the friend who had informed me about the protest and met me there was a fandom friend. She said, “Did you really just post porn and then come to a demonstration about the right of a woman to choose?”

I said yes. This is the best way to do it. So here is my final advice: post on AO3 and then allow people with a uterus the right to choose.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hello!! I just started reading your works recently and I think it's safe to say that I have fallen in love with them <3 the way you write both the cod guys and the reader feels so real and poetic that I just, eat it up everytime. I read your Barbarian! König post and it got me thinking about something.

König and Ghost are kinda opposites when it comes to their darlings. König likes darlings fiesty and snippy but Ghost likes his darlings as more agreeable or soft but not weak, ykwim??

And it got me thinking about Barbarian! Ghost. Whereas König got his darling bc he killed her husband and she was there when it happened, I see Ghost as going to take one girl originally but then the darling steps in front of said girl and says to take her instead, saving the girl and sacrificing herself. Idk but I think he would be very attracted to that, and unlike König who gently picks you up and puts you upon his horse while you kick and bite him, Ghost grabs you and lays you stomach first against his horse harshly, keeping a sturdy hand on your back as he rides away.

Sorry if this is weird or ooc!! But it was just a thought that came to me!

Oh Barbarian!Ghost would be sooo disinterested on the outside. He only saves her ass discreetly, but saves it more than enough times to spark her curiosity.

Why does he come to her rescue and then abandons her to her own devices?

CW: Minor violence (bruises), noncon groping, fear of SA, blood, cuddling & snuggling, Ghost being a complex PTSD weirdo who has a fascination towards bones.

It’s actually she who approaches him first, not the other way around. He allows her to seek protection by staying near him and thus get the others off her back: he might even throw her a piece of roasted lamb as if she were some stray cat, lurking about his campfire. But there’s not much more than that on offer for her: only a few sideways glances that tell her he regards her mostly as a nuisance and a liability, accompanied by a few scrap bones that luckily have some meat and fat still on them.

He shows her how to snap the bigger ones in half to get to the life saving marrow, and that’s when she realizes he regards her a bit dumb, some pretty royal girl who doesn’t know how to survive without a man.

And who’s to blame for all that? Clever men who have forced her to learn poetry and songs, pluck chords and recite philosophers from memory. No one ever even taught her how to ride a horse, the only things she can do is chat about the latest political turns and whether it’s old-fashioned to style your hair Southern style.

Now she’s supposed to strike a conversation with a barbarian who dresses in furs and wool, who collects the knuckles of his fallen enemies and looks at her like she’s the uncivilized one here. He probably plays dice with those bones, and she’s never seen him force a woman under him; she’s never seen him take a woman at all.

He’s probably half dead already, some ghoul raised to ravage this earth. But everytime she gets drooled over or spat upon, groped or squeezed or slapped on the soft flesh of her butt, she makes her way to him and only him. To become one with the shadows too, or to disappear, perhaps.

He gives her his biggest, thickest pelt to wrap around her shoulders, to cover those assets that make these wartorn men so crazy. Or then he doesn’t want to find her frozen to death at dawn... Dark, vast eyes look at her in the early morning fog, up from above from the highest heights, as if asking why she overslept again.

A rabbit is thrown at her feet, but she doesn’t know what to do with it: she knows he wants her to skin it, yes, but how? Even with the knife he provides her, she can only stare at the soft creature helplessly, lick her dry, creaky lips until he sighs and comes to wrench the blade away, taking the hare before it turns too stiff.

She’s almost certain he’s not even interested in women until one day, someone goes a bit too far and grabs a handful of her to squeeze. The spitting, jerking and screaming turn into a whole fistfight until she gets drawn to her knees by her hair. He’s about to rip her scalp off, of that she is sure from how much it burns.

Tears stream down her face from pure pain alone, but this time, the bone marrow man doesn’t only save her. He walks to the scene like a shadow, yanks her gropers head back, and slits his throat right then and there. The others take a few steps back, mist rises from their gaping mouths as he lets go of the bleeding slump, looking at the pulsing, open vein as if he intends to drink from it. But it seems he only wanted to confirm that the dead stay dead because his interest in this man fades as quickly as it was aroused.

She rises to her feet, only to get swept off them as he dives for her hips and raises her to a crude carry, mainly meant for wheat sacks and sheep.

With a wide palm resting on her butt, he hauls her back to his fire, further away from the open field, and she doesn’t dare to utter a word. He doesn’t squeeze her, he doesn’t grope or slap or force her, but he does throw the fur away from her shoulders to check her body for bruises. She stays silent for the whole inspection as he moves her joints and limbs to check if anything’s broken, carefully like she indeed was only a little lamb. Brushes the pads of his fingers across the darkening spots that tell a story of violence, and it makes her shiver.

They’re just bruises, but they’re also evidence that her body is not her own anymore. Still, this clinical inspection feels far more intimate and warm than the rough hands and demanding mouths from before: it’s not just the intention behind the touch, it’s his presence.

You’ve never felt so thoroughly seen.

A low rumble rises in agreement to you taking his probing so well, and you kind of wish he would hold you tonight.

Just… Hold you.

When he withdraws, content with finding you relatively intact after the attempted assault, you grab his wrist. His head snaps back instantly, but he doesn’t pry himself away from your insolent little fingers. If anything, he’s curious.

You don’t know his words, and he doesn’t know yours, so you decide it’s best not to speak at all.

Pulling his palm back, you bring it to your hip, then further up to your waist, trying to make it clear that it’s only closeness and body warmth you seek. You leave it there, and it stays there, out of its own free will. A thumb brushes over your ribs, explorative. His eyes travel, they move down the line of your neck and try to decide what you might want from him, but then you see the fathomless depths he’s been hiding. His eyes come alive, and there’s such darkness there, an unquenchable well of want that shoots fear straight down your stomach.

You were wrong about him, so wrong…

He’s not disinterested, he’s just been holding back a tide as if it’s no big deal to fight back the very gods on his own.

His palm feels like fire, but he doesn’t move, only battles with his demons for a while. You lie there before him, feeling utterly idiotic for thinking he’s different from the rest of the men.

But then… The fur gets drawn over your half naked body. Slowly, deliberately. He’s not reverent: he only knows the consequences of his actions, and this is a path he does not wish to take.

It doesn’t prevent him from laying himself down to sleep next to you, however.

It doesn’t prevent you from slowly reaching an arm around him, the rigid form that slowly, so slowly turns lax. You risk to curl against him: not safe, only warm. A stray royal cat and a ghoul who collects bones, you think, but then the ghoul sighs and turns. You should feel rejected from the way he presents his back to you, but you suspect that it has something to do with him coming alive downstairs.

And you cling to him.

He doesn’t rip you off of him as you slip a hand under his arm and bend against him, like a river otter who just found a fat clam. His solemn breaths lull you to sleep, and he stays still for you: all night until the birds start to sing and the sun warms your face, the whole heap of you two.

Like a big pile of snow, melting on a summer’s day…

[yanderes-galore]

Hello, can I have a blackwatch reaper concept

Sure! It's good for me to separate him and Reaper since I think they act differently.

Yandere! Blackwatch! Gabriel Reyes Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping, Stalking, Jealousy, Love bites, Brief mentions of murder, Forced relationship.

Even Gabriel now was used to the shadows.

While Jack Morrison took control of Overwatch and acted as a hero, Gabriel Reyes was left to do undercover missions in Blackwatch.

Gabriel is said to have been an understandable person with a headstrong nature.

He cares for those under him yet was always cynical when it came to Overwatch.

Supposedly he was jealous of Jack who had all the spotlight.

Regardless, for a little while at least, he accepted his role as assassin and spy.

Under his command he has Cole Cassidy, Genji Shimada, and Moira.

Those were the ones primarily under his care.

I feel Gabriel Reyes is less... intimidating than Reaper.

He's said to be more casual with those he enjoys.

Which makes me think he'd try more to be involved in his obsession's life.

When in reality, he's a killer and you never knew it.

I like to think Blackwatch agents had their own life outside of what they do.

Like to put up a front?

Maybe not all of them did... but I do think Gabriel did.

It might go against canon, but it's a neat idea to think about.

Imagine you met Gabriel one day and befriended him.

He's no doubt more friendly during this time than he is as Reaper later on.

While Reaper as a yandere tends to lurk and stalk like a bad omen...

Gabriel Reyes has a better chance of being part of your life.

He's secretive about his past and line of work.

He'd often make up some lie or bend the truth a bit when you ask.

Despite this, he acts as a friend and soon maybe a potential partner for you.

He's more talkative and casual, making jokes or even playfully flirting.

I like to think Reyes is a charmer before becoming Reaper.

More manipulative, too.

He acts all social and invested in you whenever he's free...

Then goes back to his job of keeping Omnics and political figures in check.

He's living a double life when it comes to you.

While he's a leader and supposed member of 'Overwatch' with you...

He's actually an assassin who has gotten blood on his hands more times than he can count.

Although since he's doing this double life, it means you'll trust him more.

Which means when his obsession gets worse, he can probably get away with stalking you or lingering in the shadows around you.

Yes, he still has that habit even before he's Reaper.

It's just as Reaper, that's his only chance of being close to you.

As Reyes?

Well now he can always be involved.

Gabriel no doubt knows him pursuing you can be dangerous.

He has a dangerous job and is acutely aware of how dangerous his feelings are.

He's used to his violent nature due to his job.

Yet he also notes how he tenses when he sees you with other men.

He knows you should just be friends...

But eventually I can see him asking you out to drinks or something.

Then you start dating purely out of curiosity.

Gabriel has a better chance of actually having you to himself.

While Reaper is forced to shadow you to satiate himself.

Gabriel Reyes is capable of actually being your lover while he gives into darker desires.

You're probably blind to his true nature.

With you he's loving and affectionate, greeting you with kisses and often visiting your apartment.

Yet when you think he's away... He's closer than you think.

Gabriel keeps a close eye on you in between missions.

He only ever pulls his guns on those who need it...

But there's been times he's thought of doing it due to jealousy.

He may also vent his possessive behavior through his actions with you.

He could cuddle you in your apartment, listening to your day.

Yet if you bring up a coworker or something Overwatch related...

His grip tightens.

That or maybe you two are getting a bit... intimate as he kisses you.

You don't even have to mention something sometimes... There's times he'll just feel the need to vent his jealousy...

Which makes him nip your skin a bit harshly, wanting to see it bruise.

There's times his love is intense, yes.

But it's mostly normal in your eyes.

You have no clue that he stalks, spies, and kills people....

No, you don't think Gabriel Reyes is a monster until he rises from the dead.

When the explosion at Overwatch's headquarters occurs, you think your lover died.

As far as you know, your boyfriend is dead...

You never stopped crying.

You end up trying to recover from his death for months.

Yet at some point, Gabriel is around, watching you mourn.

You don't see Gabriel as a monster until he breaks into your home like a wraith, a death mask covering his features.

Even then you're thankful for the mask, as he smells of death as he stalks about your home.

You scream, begging to know who he is.

Only for him to remove the mask...

Making you feel sick.

Normally people would be happy to see their beloved alive again.

Not you.

He looks like a corpse to you...

His voice is now distorted, rotten as he encourages you to embrace him.

He tells you he wants you to come with him, that he's still your Reyes.

But he's not, not to you.

He's a monster, not your boyfriend.

When you refuse... He takes you by force.

He wrangles you into his grasp before sneaking off into the darkness.

When you try to scream... He covers your mouth.

This is no longer Reyes.

This is Reaper.

He's an omen of death that has always kept track of you since Moira revived him.

By this point, manipulation isn't needed.

He already knows he's a monster, one you no longer love.

But you're all he has left now... You're meant to be his...

He won't let anyone else have you, even now.

[topochicoslut]

everybody wants to rule the world: chapter one

fic synopsis: A young woman is sent on what is sure to be a suicide mission to spy on Ryomen Sukuna by a rival curse user who has heard rumors that the infamous King of Curses might have found the secret to true immortality pairing: heian era ryomen sukuna x fem!reader rating: 18+ ONLY!!!! (mature for now) word count: 8.8k+ lmfao fuck me

chapter warnings: some language, reader is kind of sort of a (huge fucking) klepto and doesn't feel bad about it, heavy angst (death of a parent due to illness), the briefest of mentions of someone getting handsy with reader but nothing intense or graphic, ummmm the overall looming threat of Sukuna's presence??? and the death and destruction that follows him wherever he goes??? probably some typos and/or grammatical errors i missed while editing (my bad y'a'll), lol i think that's it for this one a/n: hello, hello, helloooooo. first of all, thanks so much to everyone who read the prologue from a couple of weeks ago! this is the first official full length chapter of this story, and it takes place thirteen years before the prologue. it's mostly world building and exploration of reader's ✨back story/lore✨. sukuna doesn't appear in this one (plz forgive me! he's on his way i promise!!!), but he is mentioned/plays a big off screen role so to speak at the end of this chapter. i thought about breaking it into two parts, but decided to keep it as one so as not to prolong when Sukuna makes his first official appearance a couple of chapters from now : )okay that's all i've got. enjoy! 🖤 divider by sweetmelodygraphics

|masterlist| |ao3|

Hida Province, Japan, 875 AD

The late summer air was thick with the scent of hinoki and sunshine as you basked atop a pillowy bed of grass in the afternoon sun at the edge of your village. You’d come down here as you so often did when you wanted to get away from everyone and everything around you, passing the time by watching the clouds as they floated across the bright, blue sky above you. 

Sadly, there wasn’t much else to do around here.

The village you’d grown up in was not only small, but remote. So small and so remote in fact, that it didn’t even have a name, let alone appear on any maps of the area. Its residents would come and go only as needed, traveling to other villages and towns to barter and trade not only in material goods, but also sometimes dowries and the young men and women that were included in those marriage deals. No one really had any reason to leave its confines besides that. Its isolation wasn’t without its perks however, your home was safely nestled in a small valley surrounded on all sides by lush forest and far enough away from the main road and the numerous wandering bandits that plagued the area. 

But according to the village elders, there were worse things than bandits that lurked out there in the world. Though admittedly you had a hard time believing in that sort of thing. 

As if in a warning to your skeptical thoughts, a particularly strong breeze blew around you, carrying with it the soft twinkling sound of the brass bells that hung all around the forest in a protective perimeter that perfectly encircled the village. The bells had been there since before you were born, a gift given to the village decades ago by someone who claimed to know magic- or jujutsu, as some of the elders referred to it- and had blessed them with their energy to provide protection to the village and all its residents from the evil spirits and monsters that supposedly roamed the land. While everyone else was convinced the bells existed to keep unwanted guests from getting in, sometimes you couldn’t help but think they were actually there to keep people from leaving the village for good. People like you. 

Granted, you were only fourteen, so it wasn’t like you had much of a reason let alone the means to leave. But god you wanted to. Each passing year the urge to run away grew stronger and stronger, to venture out of the valley, past the forest, and to see what the rest of the province really looked liked. To visit  a town, or better yet, an actual city. Surely there was more to life than spending yours hidden away in the smallest corner of the world. But you had responsibilities that kept you tethered here, namely being your mother’s sole companion. 

You had no other family, supposedly a father, but seeing as you had never met him you were almost inclined to believe he didn’t exist. Your mother rarely spoke of him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to press her for more information about him whenever you noticed the tightness of her mouth and eyes whenever he did come up in conversation. All you knew about him was that he had all but disappeared shortly after she had gotten pregnant with you. There were rumors he had run off of course, leaving your mother high and dry as not only a pregnant girl barely past adulthood, but an unwed one at that. 

But then there were the other rumors. The ones that no one dared say after dark when the sun went down. The rumors that something far worse had happened to him. Something evil and sinister, committed by some thing that lurked in the forest past the protective barrier of the brass bells around the village …he wouldn’t’ve be the first person to have gone missing like that. But since the bells had gone up all those years ago, there was simply no longer anyone still alive in the village who had actually seen any of those so-called monsters. But there were enough rumors and wives’ tales that had been passed down through the generations, whispers not only of cursed spirits, but of the men and women who battled and exorcised them. Those stories had left a mark on the village strong enough that even the most skeptical of those who resided in it never tried to tamper with the bells, and that anyone who needed to travel past the barrier always carried one of the spare ones borrowed from the elders for extra protection. 

You had never admitted it out loud to anyone, not even yourself, but sometimes when you were bored and wandering alone around the forest- never crossing the barrier of course- you thought you’d see something move out of the corner of your eye. Or hear some sort of chittering that didn’t sound like any animal you’d heard before. But no matter how quickly you would turn your head, whatever thing that may or may not have been hovering nearby would be gone. For the sake of your own sanity, you decided it was just your imagination running wild. That the elder’s stories had finally gotten under your skin. ‘There is no such thing as monsters,’ you’d tell yourself. ‘There are no such things as curses.’

But despite how many times you would repeat that mantra over and over again, it didn’t stop the hairs from rising on the back of your neck sometimes whenever you were alone…

The sun was no longer at its highest point in the sky, signaling that it was much later in the day than you had realized. Soon it would be dark out, and not even you felt comfortable staying this close to the forest when night fell, bells or no bells. 

With a stretch and a groan you stood up, your hips popping slightly as you rose to your full height. Turning your back to the forest, you began your journey home, the occasional sound of the bells growing fainter and fainter the closer you got to the heart of the village until there was nothing but silence around you.

The sky had faded from a calm blue to a fiery orange by the time you reached the small house you shared with your mother, and when you entered the main room that also served as your kitchen and dining area, you were relieved to see that she was already in the process of preparing dinner for the two of you. You quickly made your way towards her side to help with whatever finishing touches needed to be done before the two of you ate.

“You’re late getting back,” She said. You did your best to keep your mouth from twitching up in annoyance at the barely perceivable tone of accusation in her words. 

“I was down by the river,” You replied, as you stirred the pot of vegetable soup that was bubbling over the hearth. It wasn’t a total lie, you had passed by the river on your way towards the edge of the village. 

“Are you sure that’s the only place you went?” She asked you, this time suspicion heavily laced her question. 

You knew she wasn’t asking about you going towards the forest, for that was the least of her worries when it came to you. Your mother knew that even though you scoffed whenever anyone brought up curses and sorcerers, you didn’t dare tempt fate by being foolish enough to wander too far past the barrier without a bell of your own to protect you. No, she was worried about the other ways you chose to spend your free time.

“I’m not stealing again if that’s what you’re getting at,” You grumbled under your breath. You kept your eyes trained on the contents of the pot in front of you, counting the number of mushrooms floating towards the top of the clear broth, not trusting your gaze to give away the fact that while you hadn’t stolen anything from an unsuspecting villager today, you most definitely were still stealing whatever and whenever the mood struck you. 

Which was often, and had been for years at this point.

Your almost eerie talent for stealing had manifested at a young age, much to your mother’s horror. It had started with you taking dolls from neighborhood girls who had pushed you or bullied you in some way. Then it turned into you taking fishing hooks from some of the men, chopsticks, sandals, scrolls of poetry and other books, and even private letters from time to time, (though in your defense you only took those so you could learn how to read). Important family heirlooms and other priceless trinkets also made their way into your possession, whatever you could get your hands on really. It was all just a game to you. One that you had gotten away with for a shockingly long time until your mother had discovered your secret stash of stolen goods in an old basket in the corner of your home one day.

She made you go through the entire village that afternoon returning the items while she begged for forgiveness, promising with a deep bow that you would be swiftly punished once you returned home. The looks of anger you got from most people should’ve been enough to stop you from ever doing it again, but it was the expressions of shock and even slight fear when you returned certain items that stuck with you. 

Somehow, on more than one occasion, you had managed to find the most prized possessions belonging to your neighbors that had been so well hidden, not even other members of their own household knew they existed. And when you were confronted with how you knew exactly where so and so had hidden an item of particular value, you merely shrugged your little shoulders and said in a bored tone, 

‘I dunno, I just knew where it was.’

Your nonchalant attitude about the whole thing only added to your mother’s shame and embarrassment, and she made you promise to never do it again, but you had your fingers crossed behind your back when you did. You kept at your thieving, but you were a lot less greedy with it. Taking only small things here and there, simple items that could easily have been misplaced by the owners themselves. And you never kept them in the house. Instead you stashed your goods in a hollowed out tree stump behind your house that no one paid any mind to. Your own personal treasure trove filled with broken hair pins, sticks of incense and a few of their ceramic holders, a long forgotten calligraphy set, and other things that you slowly added to your secret stash over the years. Sure you were still greeted with the occasional suspicious glare from a villager here and there, but as long as no one could find your hiding spot, they couldn’t prove there was still a known thief in their midst.

“I wasn’t implying anything of the sort,” your mother huffed, but she kept her gaze focused on spooning heaping mounds of rice into two bowls. The two of you didn’t have much in common, but you both shared the inability of masking your true feelings when it came to your eyes. One look could give away your truest of moods, no matter what expression decorated the rest of your face. It was easier for the two of you to deflect your gaze elsewhere when lying.

Not wanting to pick a fight, you instead turned your attention on portioning out some soup for the two of you, carefully setting the bowl that had more mushrooms in front of your mother knowing they were her favorite. 

“I know you weren’t mama,” You said. “I’m sorry if I came across as being disrespectful.”

You bowed your head, hoping that your show of earnest remorse would be enough to sweep the entire conversation under the rug, and it did. Your mother merely sighed before leaning forward to place a kiss on the top of your head. A gesture you were familiar with that signaled the almost-argument between you two was indeed over and forgotten about. The two of you fell into an easy silence and tucked into your dinner.

“I have to leave after this and won’t be back until much later,” Your mother said suddenly in between bites of rice. 

“Is someone expecting?” You asked with a mouthful of food, ignoring the slightly pained look on your mother’s face at your lack of manners.

Your mother was considered to be the village’s unofficial midwife, a status that offered her enough respect and trust that those who would potentially judge her for being a single mother to a not so reformed delinquent of a daughter would at the very least have the courtesy to do so behind closed doors.

“No, but there’s been a few cases of people coming down with some sort of sickness. The village healer has asked me to help check in on a few of them tonight since he can’t make his rounds to everyone on his own.”

“That sounds serious,” You said with mild alarm. You’d heard a few people coughing over the past couple of days, but assumed it was nothing more than a late summer cold signaling the changing of the seasons. 

“I doubt it is,” She replied as she collected her now empty dishes and set them aside near the bucket you would be tasked with washing them out in once you were finished with your own meal. “It’s probably just a summer cold.”

Your concern melted away at her seemingly carefree dismissal that there was any serious illness potentially ravaging the village. And as you watched her gather her modest medicine pack that was usually filled with various tinctures, tonics, and teas that helped the women in your village navigate their pregnancies however they saw fit, you noticed that her eyes held nothing but sincerity in them at her belief that she was merely being sent out to help treat a summer cold. 

You waved goodbye to her as she left, and told her to be safe. The smile on her face promised that she would, and in that moment you almost believed she was telling the truth. 

It wasn’t just a summer cold.

In the span of a week, nearly a dozen people had fallen ill with whatever illness had found its way to your tiny village. The more superstitious residents were convinced that the bells had failed, and something had snuck past them in the night, cursing anyone it had come in contact with. You knew that was nothing more than the work of paranoid minds, and thankfully most of the other villagers agreed with your sentiments. You knew the most likely reason behind the sickness had to have been from one of the handful of men who had recently come back from trading with one of the neighboring towns in your province. They easily could’ve picked up any sort of illness and brought it back with them. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But it had never been this severe before. And when the first person ended up dying from it, panic began to take hold of everyone. Your mother forbade you from leaving your house, and she spent her days going to and from every corner of the village doing her best to provide everyone with whatever sort of comfort she could pull from her trusted medicine pack. When she returned, it was only to quickly wash herself, change her clothes, refill her bag, and bring a hand to your forehead to make sure you didn’t have a fever. 

You felt more useless than you ever had in your entire life. And for the first time you found yourself feeling ashamed that you had spent so many years focusing on honing your skills as some petty little thief, rather than actually bothering to learn anything about your mother’s craft like a normal, respectable, daughter would’ve done. You could’ve been helping her replenish the herbs she needed, grinding up seeds and plants into medicinal pastes and powders. Instead you stayed home, all but twiddling your thumbs while she worked herself to the bone trying to help your neighbors. So you made yourself as helpful as you could and instead focused your energy on cooking and cleaning and maintaining the house to the best of your abilities in her absence. Hoping it would be a strong enough showing of your unwavering support in her endeavors. 

It took over five weeks for the mysterious illness to work its way through the village, striking down people seemingly at random, and eventually claiming the lives of  nearly forty-five people in the process. The dead were taken out to the forest and past the brass bells, their remains laid to rest as far away from the village as safely possible in an effort to keep any possibility of the sickness from coming back and infecting anyone else.

You knew it was finally over when you woke up one morning and saw your mother’s sleeping figure on the other side of your shared bedroom, the white linen mask she had been wearing over her mouth for the better part of a month discarded next to her medicine pack at the foot of her futon. You crept around her quiet as a mouse, brushing the hair from her face just as she so often did whenever you were asleep and smiled, silently rejoicing that the worst of it was over and things could finally go back to normal. 

Three days later, she started coughing. 

You never believed less in magic than you did in the weeks your mother was ill. How could there be sorcerers, real life sorcerers out there in the world wasting all their crazy infinite powers on fighting invisible spirits, when they could, no- should, be using said powers to heal and help the sick and dying? It just didn’t make any sense to you. 

You did your best to tend to your mother. You made her her favorite mushroom soup, making sure to finely chop the fungi you used in it until it was so tiny, she wouldn’t have to waste her energy on chewing anything. The village healer stopped by every other day to check on her recovery, or lack thereof, and each time he left he said that you just needed to give it more time. But time didn’t seem like it would be enough, and the waiting was eating away at you, just as whatever it was that was ravaging your mother was eating away at her. You never cried though, not even once. You knew that if you did, that would mean that you had accepted that the worst was going to happen, and you refused to give in to those thoughts. 

You thought about stealing one of the extra bells from the elders, it would be so easy after all, it always was, and then you could make a mad dash through the forest, past the barrier that protected the village and seek out a cure. You would steal whatever you had to, from whomever you had to. You would snatch the very moon from the sky if it meant saving her, grind it down into some sort of iridescent powder and make a tea with it, helping her take careful sips until she glowed from within with its healing lunar power, and not the fever that had taken over her body. But that would require sorcery, and you didn’t believe in that. Though a hidden part of you liked to imagine that if you possessed even an ounce of it, that’s how you would be able to fix her.

Above all, you were afraid to leave your mother’s side. The healer’s voice telling you to give it more time echoed in your head, but time didn’t feel like it was on your side.

Even so, there was nothing else you could do but wait. Wait for her to get better. Wait for her to get worse. So you waited, and waited and waited…

It turned out, you didn’t have to wait all that long. 

Your mother’s sickness lasted two full weeks, and when she finally died, it was the most unexpectedly expected moment of your life. Even though you had been preparing for it to happen for what had felt like a century at that point, the sting of coming home to a silent house from doing the laundry down by the river that was a mere ten minute walk to and from your home felt like a punch to the gut.

When you first entered the doorway the house was still, no coughing or hacking came from your mother’s futon in the corner of the room. And the sigh of relief you let out was so deep, all the tension you’d been keeping in your shoulders finally eased out. Setting the basket of clean linens on the ground you padded over to heat up some tea for her.

“Mama,” you whispered as you crept towards her silent figure. “Mama, I’m back.”

Carefully, you kneeled to the ground and reached a hand towards her head to check her temperature, but the feeling of her cold skin caused you to draw back with a sharp hiss, and you fell flat on your backside in shock.

Her fever was gone. And so was she. 

You didn’t know how long you sat there on the ground staring at her. Years later, when you would finally allow yourself to think back to this moment, you realized that you had wanted to spend as much time with her as you could. Studying her features in a desperate bid to immortalize her face in your mind and your heart. It wasn’t until the soft golden light of the late afternoon began to seep into the open doorway that you finally willed yourself off the ground, but not before crawling over to your mother’s body to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Goodbye, mama.”

Her funeral was quick. 

Two men from the village helped you bring her body to the same part of the forest where everyone else who had perished from the illness had been laid to rest. As you watched them perform the funeral rites, you realized through your fog of grief that this was the furthest you’d ever gone from the village. And as you finally made your way back, you realized that this would be the very last time you’d ever set foot in it again. 

You had barely crossed the barrier of bells when you swiped the solitary one from the pocket of the man who had been charged with carrying it when the three of you had set out to bury your mother. They didn’t notice of course, but still you kept it silently hidden in your fist, and tried to ignore that not only was it surprisingly warm, but it almost seemed to radiate the faintest of rhythmic thumps, like it had its own heartbeat. Instead you chose to focus on the  thick twine that it hung from that was wrapped around your hand and wrist so tightly that the coarse fibers dug into your skin. You knew they wouldn’t have given it to you if you had asked them for it. After all, what would a young girl need a protection bell for when she was merely going home?

When you arrived at your house, you knew you had a short window of time to gather what you needed before the men realized the bell was gone and came looking for it.  You grabbed your mother’s medicine pack and took the mostly empty jars from it, only bothering to keep a few whose contents you actually knew. You packed up a few meager belongings you wanted to take with you, mostly items that would help you on the journey you were about to take. The tiny house that you’d called home all these years felt bigger than it had any reason to, and you found yourself eager to leave it behind. Your mother had been the only thing keeping you tethered to the village, and now that she was gone there was no real reason for you to stick around. 

The last thing you grabbed before you left your home for the final time was your mother’s fall outfit from storage. It didn’t quite fit you right, the legs of the pants were too long, and the waist of the top was too short, but it was warm, and smelled like her, and you knew you would need both of those comforts once you were on your way. It dawned on you as you began your trek back towards the forest that you had absolutely no idea what you were doing or where you were going. But there was no fear in your heart as you walked deeper into the lush greenery that surrounded your village. The single brass bell you had triple knotted to the strap of your mother’s medicine pack that was slung over your shoulder chimed with each step you took, and when you crossed the barrier of bells the air filled with a chorus of them ringing even though there hadn’t been even the slightest gusts of wind to disturb them.

That secret part of you, the part that you had kept buried deep within, reached towards the surface of your mind and for once you didn’t fight it. Maybe there was some truth to the bells and their origins, that maybe once upon a time, a sorcerer really had stumbled across a tiny village in the middle of nowhere and decided it deserved to be protected. The hundreds of brass bells that they had enchanted all those years ago granting one of its inhabitants a final farewell in the form of a gentle symphony that overtook the entire forest.

The wave of sound washed over you and it followed you all the way through the rest of the trees until you cleared the forest and stood before a road that stretched for miles and miles in two different directions. The silence was almost deafening, but the bells still echoed in your head as you turned to face left, then right, then left again, trying to decide which way to go. Left meant going south, and you knew enough from the stories of the villagers who made it out this far to do their trading that the south was filled with more villages that were much like your own. Small and remote, but clustered closer together. Right meant going north, and north meant less villages, but there were several towns scattered that way. Including an actual city that was so massive, there were supposedly whole neighborhoods that were bigger than your entire village. 

North also meant the higher possibility of running into bandits, because there were better opportunities for them to rob people that way. Something that also bode well for you, because even though you weren’t one for violently mugging people, you could still survive off of pickpocketing. And who knew what sort of unfathomable treasures you could possibly get your hands on in the process.

The rush you got at the thought of finally being able to fully flex and test your skills as a thief was all you needed to make your decision, and you turned right without a second thought and began your journey north.

You had been on the road for nearly a week, and despite the sharp aching in your feet from all the walking you had done, you were feeling pretty confident in your decision to leave home. You had passed by a handful of people so far on your journey, but apart from a polite nod of acknowledgement you didn’t really interact much with any of them. No one seemed to really bat an eye at a teenage girl walking alone on the main road, or maybe they just didn’t trust that you weren’t bait being used by some bandits looking to rob and kill whoever would be dumb enough to stop and speak with you.

You didn’t mind it all that much, you yourself were always cautious whenever you walked past someone, even a harmless looking cattle farmer perched atop  a wagon that was being pulled by two horned bulls that towered over you. The first time you crossed paths with one of those, you stood slack jawed and frozen in place at the sight of the monstrously large animals. The farmer had been so amused by your reaction, he offered you a ride as far as the next town over on the back of his cattle cart, which you graciously accepted. But you still made sure the knife you had taken with you for protection that was stashed away in the front of your shirt was easily accessible as you clambered up the back of his cart.

You admittedly made one mistake during your journey, and that was when you had foolishly accepted a ride from a lone soldier who rode past you one afternoon on an elegant but battleworn horse. He had seemed harmless enough at the time, but when his hands started roaming across your thighs not even a mile in, you threw a sharp elbow as hard as you could to his nose, and hopped down and ran off into the woods while he was still holding a blood soaked hand to his mangled face. You laughed as he cursed at you, calling you all sorts of names, and when you set up camp that night, you laughed even harder when you helped yourself to the stolen provisions you’d nicked from his saddlebag when he wasn’t looking. 

You figured this talent of yours would be what would keep you alive once you got into the city. You couldn’t think of any other job you would actually want to do. You could be a maid, but that sounded boring. Not to mention your employers might notice that your arrival would undoubtedly coincide with items going missing, and you may be a thief, but you certainly wouldn’t try and pin any of your handiwork on the other help you’d end up sharing a roof with. There was always the option of selling your body, but you didn’t think you had it in you to walk that path. Not to mention you wanted to think you were still too young to do so, being just a girl of fourteen. Though others might not agree with that.

You shuddered at the thought of what sort of man would find a child like you a desirable bedfellow and almost missed the sound of shuffling feet headed your way. It wasn’t until the frame of an old man entered the clearing you were calling home for the night that you let out a shrill scream.

“Shush!” He cried out, while pressing a gnarled finger to his lips. “Please, quiet down. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I noticed your fire and was wondering if I could warm myself.”

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” You snapped at him. He hovered near the edge of the woods as you sized him up. He looked as though he was well into his seventies, and seemed to be more skin and bones than muscle and flesh. Despite that he carried a large sack on his back like it weighed nothing at all. You determined he wasn’t much of a threat, and gave him a quick nod gesturing to him to come sit beside your fire. 

“Thank you,” He groaned as he sat down opposite you. “I’m headed towards the city to do some trading and fell behind schedule. Growing old slows you down more than I would care to admit.”

You merely hummed in response, still eyeing him cautiously across the flames. 

“You’re a brave one for lighting a fire out here,” He said. 

“Brave?” You asked.

“That or very foolish.”

“Listen you old buzzard-” You growled, but he raised his gnarled hands in a silent apology. 

“I only meant that not many people in this area would be willing to risk doing that,” He said. “I’m sure you’ve heard about what roams these lands.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” You said, while lazily waving a dismissive hand towards him. “Monsters, and curses, and sorcerers. And all sorts of other things that go bump in the night. That’s just a bunch of nonsense.”

Sure, you had finally made peace with the idea that the bells that had surrounded your village might’ve been placed there by an actual sorcerer. And yeah, everyday you would absentmindedly reach down to make sure the little brass bell you’d taken with you was still tightly secured to your mother’s pack. But that was still as far as you were willing to go with admitting you believed in anything more than that. You hadn’t seen, heard, or crossed paths with anything weird or unexplainable since you started your journey north. And you had started to think you never would. 

“Is it?” He asked with a grin that was a little too grim for your liking. 

“It is,” You insisted. “Just a bunch of old wive’s tales to keep children in check. They told those stories in my village all the time. But that’s all they are- stories.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

“Oh, really?” You scoffed. “Is that your cryptic way of telling me you’ve crossed paths with that stuff before?” 

“I’ve seen the aftermath of a battle before,” The old man replied, his eyes twinkling with both mischief and the light of the fire reflecting in them. “Even met a few sorcerers in my time. But I’ve never seen a curse, because not everyone has the ability to see them.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. No one in your village had ever once mentioned needing some special type of sight to see curses or spirits. No wonder no one had ever seen anything before, every new detail you learned about this jujutsu nonsense seemed more and more ridiculous.

“Whatever you say, old man.” You yawned. “Feel free to stay the night and keep warm, but I'm getting some sleep. Don’t try anything funny.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it girl,” He chuckled. 

You rolled to your side curling into a tight ball as you heard him groan and creak as he settled into a resting position of his own on his side of the clearing. You tried not to let his words get to you, just as you tried not to stare too hard into the inky darkness ahead of you in the woods. For the first time since your journey began you noticed just how silent the woods were. 

You didn’t fall asleep until just before dawn.

You awoke a few hours later feeling cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. You didn’t bother trying to remember if you’d had any dreams the night before, you never did. Even when you were a child no matter how deeply you slept, you never dreamt. You would listen with envy to the other kids in the village as they talked about how they would fly higher than the mountains, or breathe underwater, or talk to animals, all in their sleep. You ended up tearfully asking your mother once if she had dreams, to which she responded yes, but usually they were quite boring and often involved a singing tea kettle.  She was shocked when you wailed in her arms that you would give anything in the world to dream about a singing tea kettle just once. She gently rocked you to sleep in her arms, telling you that maybe your dreams were just too big for your little head to remember when you woke up, and maybe once you were older and bigger that would all change and you could dream about all the singing tea kettles you could ever want. 

You felt the corners of your eyes prick with tears you still had not shed over her, and you silently told yourself to keep it together, suddenly remembering you had a guest that had spent the night across from you and your fire. A guest who you could see moving out of the corner of your eye.

The old man had seemingly already been awake for about as long as you had been asleep. He sat cross legged in front of your now dead and smoldering fire, helping himself to a breakfast of smoked fish and tea. You were surprised when he handed you a tiny mug of your own, and wordlessly accepted it with a nod. Your first sip was strong and bitter, but its warmth was welcome in the chilly morning air.

“So,” He asked as he stared at you, seemingly taking in just how young you actually were in the light of day. “Where are you headed girl?”

“The same place you are I reckon,” You yawned.

“The city is still three days from here,” He mused, reaching forward to refill your mug that you hadn’t even realized was empty. “Perhaps we can walk the rest of the way there together.”

“Worried you’ll get lost?”

“I’m worried you will,” He said. “It would weigh on me something heavy if I let you continue the journey on your own out here. After all, you’re just a girl.”

“I’m not just a girl,” You hissed. 

He let out a wheezened giggle that only annoyed you further and you chugged the rest of your tea to keep from biting out a cruel retort in his direction. The hot liquid sloshed its way down your throat and into your stomach as you considered his words.

“Maybe…” You started quietly. “We could walk the rest of the way together…might make the rest of the trip go by faster.”

The old man flashed a joyful grin your way. You didn’t even know his name, but his presence though slightly irritating at times, had been a welcome one. And you hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been since you had left the village with no one to really talk to. Your stomach growled, and he handed you the last of his smoked fish. 

After you finished your breakfast, you packed up your belongings, slung your packs over your shoulders, and carried on down the road together. 

The rest of the journey was enjoyable, and you were right- it was passing by a lot quicker with the old man accompanying you. You learned that his name was Genji, he was a widow, and that he spent his remaining days traveling back and forth from his town to the city selling the various ceramics he made himself every other month. For someone who was pushing eighty he was remarkably spry, and as quick witted as a man more than half his age could ever hope to be. 

Every night you lit a fire, and every night he would watch you do so wearily. But the desire to stay warm outweighed what you still considered to be the imagined risks of a superstitious old man. You didn’t want to admit that there were moments during the night where you thought you saw movement in the shadows that had nothing to do with the fire. Quick flashes of light that looked less like crackling embers and more like eyes that glowed. You didn’t want to admit that your hair standing up on the back of your arms and neck had less to do with the chilly night air, and more to do with... Well, you just didn’t want to admit it. 

Genji did not press the issue either, and for that you were thankful. Perhaps he saw the uncertainty in your eyes despite your best efforts to put on a brave face in the night. He never outright asked if you had seen anything, not wanting to start an argument with you by indirectly implying you possessed some sort of totally not real gift, or sight, or whatever the hell it was he had called it the first night you met. Nevertheless, you still managed to awaken each morning in one piece, albeit sore, and cranky from a lack of a good night’s sleep. You would eat smoked fish, drink tea with Genji, and then go back to walking. All in all, it was a very uneventful two days.

That was until the third day.

That morning started off as all the others had. Genji had already brewed tea before you had even woken up in the tiny pale pink tea pot he used every morning. He wordlessly passed you a piece of smoked fish, and you ate it in bleary eyed silence. Knowing you would make it to the city by nightfall made you all the more eager to hit the road again, and you were on your feet quicker than you had been during your previous mornings. Genji was busy quizzing you on all the different neighborhoods that awaited you in the city when you arrived, reminding you which ones would be the best for you to find work in (“The River District is home to plenty of affluent families who are always looking for help. And most Marketplace vendors will pay people to help them set up and tear down their stalls.”). Along with which ones were in your best interest to avoid (“The Red Light District is nothing but trouble, you wouldn’t last a minute there. It’s filled with thieves, unsavory women, criminals, and worse.”). 

He thought you were joking when you said the Red Light District sounded like it would be the perfect home away from home for you, but the serious look on your face when you confirmed that you were in fact planning on checking out that particular neighborhood, and only that one had him scolding you like you were his own grandchild for even thinking such nonsense. The two of you were still bickering loudly with one another as you neared a curve in the road, and you were on the verge of calling Genji a particularly rude name when you rounded the corner and ended up crashing face first into Genji’s pack that was filled with all his ceramic knick knacks.

“What the hell Genji!?” You shouted out as you rubbed your nose. “You can’t just stop walking in front of someone without any warning!” An uneasy silence was all that greeted you, and you were about to yell at him again, but when you peered over his shoulder to see what all the fuss was about, any and all words died on your tongue. 

The road that you had been so diligently traveling on for the past week and some odd days was gone. Or at least part of it was. In front of you there was nothing but a large hole. No, a crater was more like it, one that seemed deep enough to swallow a small lake, but had settled for the crumbling earth around it. In the not so far distance across the sprawling center of it, you could make out the other half of the road that was somehow still partially intact. It seemed impossibly far from where you stood.

The two of you stared speechless taking in the sight before you. The trees that lined the edge of the crater were burnt and turned on their sides, like old long forgotten sticks of incense. The gaping charred earth that lay before you still faintly smelled of smoke, and when a breeze blew past it kicked up bits of dirt and ash that stung your eyes. It was only when you looked down to cough and wipe your eyes with your sleeve that you noticed the bones.

They were human. Blackened and broken, and blasted into bits and pieces by whatever had caused the crater that stood before you. There were animal bones too, and with horror you realized the larger skulls, at least that's what you assumed they were based on their half intact shape, were horses. 

You were standing at the grave site of what appeared to be an army.

But what could have-

“Gods above,” Genji whispered. “He was here.”

“He?” You said hoarsely. “What do you mean he?”

“Come on girl,” Genji said, face paler than death itself. “We have to keep moving.” 

“Moving? Moving where? There’s not a road to move on Genji- Hey!”

But Genji wasn’t listening to you. Instead he was pulling your arm with a strength you didn’t know he had and dragging you with him into the crater. You didn’t have time to pull yourself free as you both slid down the side of it, narrowly avoiding being tripped by the remnants of tree roots, rocks, and god, burnt human remains. You both landed at the bottom of the crater with a soft thump, your feet kicking up plumes of ash. But even then Genji didn’t let go of your wrist, dragging you behind him as he walked as swiftly as he could through the pit with you in tow.

“Genji, I don’t understand. What could’ve done this?” You were alarmed at how scared your voice sounded, and you tried to focus on the comforting sound of the brass bell that clanged shrilly from its home on your pack.

He didn’t answer. Instead he just kept pulling you as he walked across the crater. Not bothering to side step the remains that were in his path, while you tried your best to dodge every last piece of human being you could. It wasn’t until your foot collided with a skull that was half buried in at least half a foot of ash, staring face up toward the alarmingly blue sky in a silent scream, that you finally yanked your arm free from your companion.

“Genji! What the fuck is going on?” You yelled. 

Genji stopped and turned to look at you. His eyes were no longer filled with their usual cheery warmth. Instead they shown with fear. 

No.

Terror. 

“Those things you like to lie to yourself about not being real exist.”

“Okay, but they couldn’t cause this,” You hissed as you flapped your arms in a panic gesturing to the carnage all around you. You didn’t even realize you hadn’t corrected him on how they weren’t real. “Those things just, I don’t know, spirit people away or eat them or whatever grandmother’s tell their grandkids. They don’t punch a goddamn hole through the earth!”

“This wasn’t the work of one of those things,” He replied, looking around like he was worried that something, or someone might hear him. “This was something else, a man.”

“Oh come on, Genji,” You laughed but there was no humor in the sound. “There’s not a man alive who could do something like this.”

“He’s not much of a man anymore if the rumors are true.”

“Oh my god, what rumors? What man? You’re not making any sense right now.”

“Ryomen Sukuna.”

Ryomen.

Sukuna?

It was a name you had never heard before, but the moment it fell from Genji’s lips in that hushed whisper ripe with the same terror that matched his desperate eyes, it felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water on your head. The air itself became still, and you were suddenly, painfully, aware that you were much too far from the sky. Too deep in the earth. Too deep in a grave, a grave that was shattered into existence by a man named-

“Ryomen Sukuna?” You repeated, the name itself filled your mouth with the taste of iron, and for a second you wondered if you’d bitten your tongue and it was your own coppery blood that you were tasting.

“Shush!” Genji hissed at you, much like he did the first night you met. Though this time it was a warning and not a plea. “Don’t say it again.”

“Why? Who is he?”

“He’s a sorcerer. Or he was before. I’m not sure what he’s become over the years to be capable of doing something like this. He’s been running around this entire province for ages now, striking down anyone who so much as dares to look at him a certain way. But he’s never been this far south before, this road was perfectly intact when I was in the city last month.”

“But sorcerers aren’t re-”

Genji didn’t even let you finish the lie you’d been telling yourself since childhood only because you hadn’t seen the truth of it all until this very moment with your own eyes.

“Look around you girl,” Genji scoffed bitterly.  “You still deny that you live in a world where the impossible is possible, that jujutsu is real, and there are those who wield it not for the greater good, but for their own cruel desires and bitter amusement?”

“But all I've ever heard anyone say about sorcerers is that they’re good,” You countered, immediately thinking of the faceless and nameless one who had shown up at your village long before even your own mother had been born, and gifted everyone who lived there the protection of those bells. The bells that you wished were still surrounding you right now.  “They protect people! You’re saying this Ryo- oh for heaven's sake. This guy is not only some crazy powerful sorcerer, but a bad one at that. And he did all of this…What, for fun?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I'm saying.”

The two of you stared the other one down. Genji watched as you silently began the process of realigning everything you had ever believed in before this moment. Finally coming face to face with the truth that while there were no such things as miracles in your world, that didn’t mean there weren’t curses. 

And there really were people out there, actual honest to god sorcerers, who had somehow harnessed the unchecked power of jujutsu that walked among you. Maybe they had never set foot in your village for as long as you had been alive, but they were out here in the real world. Roaming the lands like they owned it, leaving nothing but scorched earth and dust in their wake as proof that they were here. 

And apparently one of them, quite possibly the worst one, had been living in your province this entire time wreaking havoc, and you’d had no idea. Maybe leaving the village had been a bad idea after all. You weren’t even remotely prepared for any of this.

“How do you know for certain it was this Sukuna person?” You finally asked, and you cringed at the way your voice shook as you said his name.

“Because he’s the only one I’ve ever heard of who’s even remotely capable of causing devastation such as this,” Genji answered as he looked up fearfully towards the sky. You followed his gaze. 

“You can’t be serious,” You groaned. “He can fly?”

“Do you really want to stick around and find out?” Genji asked.

You didn’t. So with all the courage you could muster, you gripped your hands tightly around the straps of your pack and gave Genji a curt nod, signaling him to lead the way out of the crater. You both made quick work of it, sprinting your way across the tomb you’d stumbled across as fast as your legs would carry you. When you made it to the other side, the two of you scaled your way towards the top of the crater, desperately clutching any rock and root you could reach as you hoisted yourselves back up to the surface. 

Genji didn’t give you much time to catch your breath or even wipe the dirt and ash from your clothes before he began trudging ahead on the other side of the road that was still intact despite the damage that had been inflicted on a sizable chunk of it. The two of you hoping that it would lead you not only to civilization, but safety.

You allowed yourself one final look over your shoulder at the crater, and did your best to ignore the shudder that ran its way down your spine as you tried and failed to imagine exactly what sort of man this Ryomen Sukuna was to be capable of such wanton destruction. You wondered if there were others like him out there, who were just as violent and deadly, but better at hiding it and themselves from the masses. You silently prayed to whatever god that would listen that if you ever did cross paths with any sorcerers, you would never have to encounter one like Ryomen Sukuna. 

And on the chance that you were ever unfortunate enough to do so, you prayed even harder that perhaps they would be willing to show you mercy. 

tag list: @after-laughter-come-tears @officialholyagua @clp-84

[loomislover]

Puppy dog eyes ✧˖*

ethan Landry x innocent girly fem reader

in which the reader finds herself falling for someone she shouldn’t be .

tw: swearing, smut eventually, death , murder , loss of innocence, chad x reader ( kinda ) , cheating and more ! ( let me know what I forgot ) !! :) 🎀 thank you for reading

I don’t own scream or any characters mentioned! Thank you !! ( this is my first time writing ever please be patient with me !)

part 2 <3

The news of what had happened last night hadn’t completely settled in yet and after hearing what happened to Sam and Tara at the bodega you were only more horrified. “ I mean come on that asshole deserved it . you should of seen him last night “ chad says scoffing . “ still he didn’t have to die chad , he probably had a family who loved him” you say looking down . “ come on y/n your to nice , if that was me I wouldn’t care that Micheal was dead” Anika says shrugging looking over to where you sat between Ethan and Tara at the benches outside of the school . “ Chad and Anika are right y/n he had that coming to him” ethan says in response shrugging when you look at him with wide eyes do to the fact he would normally always take your side . “Alright nerds listen up” Mindy says standing up clapping her hands to draw your attention to her . “ as terrifying as this all is I’m actually glad I have a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time” Mindy says looking down referring to what had happened to them back in woodsboro . “ oh god here she goes “ chad sighs . You ,Ethan , quinn and Anika look at each other than at him confused before mindy continues her speech about how your all in a franchise. “ any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and tara .” Mindy sighs as your eyes immediately dart to the sisters. The thought of losing them makes your heart feel heavy and a unfamiliar fear lurks in your chest. “W-wait any of us ?” Ethan ask tilting his head . “ yeah” mindy says like it’s obvious before Ethan continues “ wait , am I in the friend group ?” Ethan asks raising his eye brows . “Yeah” Mindy reply’s again before Ethan says “ Am I like one of the targets- am I gonna die a virgin?” Your eyes widen at this as you both look at each other at the same time his eyes wide too. You never really thought about it like that . I mean sure it was something you wanted to do eventually but you just figured you’d do it when the time felt right . Who knew you might die before you ever got the chance to. You look to chad thinking of all the times something was about to happen between you two even something small and you just couldn’t do it something just felt wrong. “ that was a weird over share” Mindy says breaking your train of thought before she continued on “ but it brings us to our current suspects” Mindy says before turning to Ethan . “Ethan the shy dorky guy who no one suspects cause he’s so shy and dorky” . your eyes practically bulge out of your head at this . You look at her in shock “ ethan !?” You say in suprise . “Why’s he on the suspect list ? He hasnt done anything wrong” you say gesturing towards him as everyone raises an eyebrow at how defensive your being . “ yeah why am I ? cause I’m randomly chads roommate ?” Ethan says gesturing towards your boyfriend. “Roommate lottery’s can be juked , you could have fixed it to get next to us” Mindy says as ethan rolls his eyes and looks to you shrugging. “y/n !” Mindy continues looking at you now and your eyes widen . “Me!?” You say as she continues “ y/n ,y/n , y/n the sweet innocent girl who always sees the best in everyone… or is that just an act” she says and you can’t believe she would actually think it could even possibly be you . “ I mean Micheal is dead and you were pretty quick to defending ethan.” Mindy shrugs before continuing with the rest of her suspect list .

you sigh before sitting down next to Anika on sams couch . Sam coming in setting down pillows and blankets for you two so you could spend the night before going into the kitchen with chad, tara and Mindy . Everyone was here except Ethan he had left earlier but other than that Sam insisted on safety in numbers so you were all together . “this is all so crazy , the killings and ghost face” Anika says looking at you as you smile “ I know it’s so weird cause I actually used to love the stab movies me and my dad used to watch them“ you say looking down . “Stu was always my favorite” Anika says playfully nudging you and you smile admiring and appreciating your best friend as she was the one who introduced you to the rest of the group in the first place and you would forever be grateful for that . “Billy was mine” you say giggling “ a lot more weird tho when you find out he’s your friends dad” you say trying to make light of the situation . Anika smiles at you “ yeah I suppose it is pretty weird” she laughs and it seems for a moment everything in your life is gonna be fine , your all gonna be ok , but you know thats all to good to be true. And it is cause now You hear a bang come from Quinn’s bedroom door and you both jolt up from the couch and everyone else rushes into the living room it doesn’t feel real. The banging seemingly stops as chad steps in front of tara ,you look at him for a split second before thinking back to what Ethan had said the night before . But It didn’t matter now all that mattered was getting out alive. You push your self in-front of Anika and before she even has time to protest mindy screams “run!”. Quinn’s bedroom door bursts open in a thunderous jolt and Quinn’s body flys out in front of you . Everyone screams and you , Sam , mindy and Anika all stumble back as tara and chad run . “ guys come on” Tara screams as she runs out the door . But it’s to late ghostface is already upon you. “ oh fuck!” Mindy says as ghostface tilts his head tauntingly before running towards her and slashing her shoulder . As she screams out in pain ghostface looks to you and Anika . Everyone’s screaming and Sam is crying out to you to run as Anika crys for mindy . Everything goes fuzzy when ghostface grabs you by the back of your neck and all you can do now is close your eyes and wait for the pain. But it never comes you open your eyes as ghostface throws you aside roughly towards Sam and goes for Anika . You scream in horror and confusion as he grabs Anika throwing her down and wrapping his hands around her neck . “Y/n come on!” Sam says while yanking you up by your wrist . You both run into the kitchen and sam runs for a knife but there isn’t any . Someone took them , someone knew this would happen . You both look to each other in whore before both looking to the living room as Anika screams a blood curdling scream of pain. Sam thinks fast and grabs the wooden block the knifes once were. And all you can do now is put up the best fight you can.

You open you eyes head throbbing and mind foggy as you look around. Your laying on Quinn’s bedroom floor but there’s no more screaming and sunlight is streaming in through the window . You look down to your hands that are covered in blood but you know that it’s not your own . The door burst open and your surrounded but various paramedics and cops one you recognize as Quinn’s father. And that’s when the memories come flooding back. “What happened? Where are my friends? Where’s ghostface?” So many questions come from your mouth as a paramedic leans down to help you up. “ calm down y/n it’s ok just take a deep breath.” He say desperately trying to calm you . “Are you alright” he asks and you nod slowly. “ please just take me to my friends.” You say quietly.

Once you make it outside with the help of some paramedics you insisted you didn’t need you immediately lock eyes with Sam someone you beli d to be her boyfriend standing behind her . You run over and she wraps her arms around you . “Y/n your ok!” She says pulling you closer before letting go as you pull away . “ yeah something like that” you say playfully sniffling. “What happened to me last night ?” You say curious as to why you woke up alone in Quinn’s room. “ when ghostface got into Quinn’s room he pushed you out of the way to get to the window we were climbing out of” she pauses “when he pushed you you must have hit your head and passed out” she says and you don’t understand why he hadn’t killed you. You brush it off figuring there was no point in trying to make sense of it as You look behind her to only see tara, mindy and chad . “W-Where’s Anika” you choke out tears threatening to spill as you lock as with Mindy and the look on her face tells you everything you need to know. “ oh mindy” you say tears rolling down your cheeks as she hugs you before pulling away . “Chad” you hear the voice of Ethan as you turn around to see him walking closer to you . Chad runs over and grabs him roughly by his jacket. “Where were you last night” he yells at ethan . “ I had Econ you now this” ethan says defensively. you run over “chad stop let go of him” you yell pushing chad . “What’s your problem y/n he was the only one not there last night!” Chad says looking at you. “he disappears and Tara and my sister almost get killed” he says breathing heavy. “ dude I was in a study hall with 100 other people as any of them” ethan interrupts . “Fuck man” chad says before walking back to mindy and Tara . You look at Ethan tears still left on your face. Ethan hugs you tightly as he rest his head on your shoulder. “What’s wrong baby” he asks a hand stroking your hair. “Anika she’s dead” you Choke out ignoring his odd actions as another tear Rolls down your cheek and you pull away from him. Ethan walks over to Mindy and you follow “ mindy I’m so sorry” he says “step the fuck back” she Says looking at him like he’s a killer. “what is wrong with you guys ?” You say defending ethan once again “ he had Econ ! he’s done nothing wrong” you say gesturing towards him . “Why do you keep defending him?” Chad asks in response raising an eyebrow. “ he’s my friend!? And he’s yours too” you say to chad disbelief in your tone. “ yeah a friend” chad scoffs rolling his eyes . “More than I can say for you and Tara” you shout and you can’t believe you said it as everyones eyes widen. “ your crazy” chad says shaking his head in disbelief. “Whatever I’ll see you guys later” you say another tear rolling off your cheek as you walk away head hanging low half wishing chad would chase after you. And for a moment you think he does when you feel a hand on your shoulder but when you turn you see Ethan and he begins to walk away with you. “ hey I’m sorry about all that” Ethan says puppy dog eyes looking into your innocent ones pitifully. “Yeah it’s ok” you say looking back down . “Hey maybe you can come back to my dorm with me and I can cheer you up” he says looking at you with that same sweet look he always has but there’s something strange about it this time . Something else lurks behind his brown eyes…

an: I’m so sorry this is so long I was having so much fun writing this fr . thank you for 100 likes on part one and 10 followers I appreciate it ! :) 🎀 lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for the next parts !

tags ✧˖*: @iloveneilperry

[paper-crab]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

summary: letters to your past crushes get out and its a whole mess, based on the movie/book, yadayada

warnings: swearing, cliché, very rushed

wc: 6914

ignore any grammar mistakes it’s too long for me to reread and if it doesn’t flow smoothly i’m so sorry i rushed it so bad

Writing letters was an emotional release; something healthy to pass the time, and look back on later.

That’s why you’d written a series of letters, spanning from 3rd grade to now- senior year. They were intimate letters, ones you wrote to get your mind off of a crush you’d gained, so when you’d looked for the box to add a new letter and couldn’t find it, you freaked out.

Luckily, younger you was only able to get her hands on two addresses.

Unfortunately, those addresses were the two worst ones you could have gotten. Everybody else had either moved, or come out. They were irrelevant.

Who had gotten the letters, however, were not irrelevant: your school's player, and your best friend's boyfriend. You were fully in panic mode now, how are you supposed to recover from that? You can only contemplate your options for so long before anxiety eats at you. Maybe if you skipped a week or so of school it would blow over.

“Yeah, not happening. Rise and shine.”

You groan. “Dad, you don’t understand. This could ruin my life, I might actually die.”

He doesn’t respond, leaving you to grovel and pick up the pieces of your pride.

In order to avoid your friend's boyfriend, you need to avoid her, which means you’re walking around school alone. You know you’ll need to have that awkward conversation, telling him ‘I liked you when you were just my childhood best friend- those feelings have passed’, but you also know that you are going to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. Asserting yourself was never really your strong suit.

You had grown up next door to her boyfriend, and fell out of touch with him in middle school. While he was blossoming as a social butterfly, you lurked in the background, like a moth drawn to his effervescent light. Like the sun, the light was too hot for you to stay in, and you stopped talking until mid junior year when your friend had reintroduced you.

The other letter, the heartthrob, had been a lot kinder in middle school. You’d heard some not-so-kind stories about him recently though, and they were the exact opposite of the kid, Matt, that you knew.

You hadn’t been particularly close or anything, only exchanging a few words in your 7th grade math class, but you were infatuated with him. When you were younger, he hardly talked, but lacrosse had brought him out of his shell; the shell you’d never managed to crack- or rather the cocoon you’d never emerged from.

Matt probably didn’t know your name, even though you’d boldly signed it in your letter, so you were confident he wouldn’t find you. It’d be just another day for him, hopefully.

Your friend's boyfriend, on the other hand, was constantly with you. He lived right next door to you, and you felt like it was impossible to avoid him. You’d try to get through the school day without an encounter, then lock yourself in your room to never be seen again.

The first couple periods you had? Had gone off without a hitch. Then you hit lunch, and even if you tried, you couldn’t run from your friend forever. She found you, her boyfriend trailing behind.

“I missed you this morning!” She tells you, reaching to give you a hug. You don’t do much but nervously laugh, pulling away from her. “Yeah, I came late.” You lied.

“Ugh I wish, I’m going to get lunch, you coming with?” She says, more to her boyfriend than you. He shakes his head, “I’m good.”

“Alright, be back in a minute!”

“Can we ta-”

You cut him off immediately, nervous laughter coming back. “I have a test to study for, so I’m going to the library, sorry. We’ll catch up later. He knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really want to talk about it himself.

After excusing yourself, you make a beeline for the library, seeking a moment of respite. The library turns out not to offer that much solace either, because you see Matt’s two brothers enter, meaning he can’t be far behind. When he rounds the corner, his eyes land on you, lighting up slightly. You see him excuse himself from his brothers, and you immediately stand and run out of there, muttering “Nope, no, no,” under your breath. The sound of you slamming the library door open definitely isn’t quiet.

You can’t help but begin to panic, packing up your things and abruptly running out of the school, through the parking lot, and jumping into your car. If studying wasn’t how you were going to escape the situation, avoiding lunch apparently was. It’s tempting, incredibly so, to skip the rest of your day, but you know you’d be in so much trouble. You can’t handle that right now.

You head back in and continue your day, just praying, wishing, dreaming that you won’t encounter the two people you don’t want to see most- but now you’re seeing them out of the corner of your eye in every passing period; and you can’t even confide in the one person you most want to.

The school day ending feels like your saving grace. You’re exhausted, mentally and physically, from running away from your friend and her boyfriend, and narrowly avoiding Matt didn’t help.

You walk out of the school, into the parking lot towards the direction of your car, ready to be done with the day.

In highschool, you’re never done.

Your friend's boyfriend is leaning against your car, looking around for you, arms crossed. You make a sharp left, in the direction of the lacrosse field and bleachers. You’re not really thinking about it when you do it, it’s just the closest shelter, other than walking back in the hellhole that is the school.

You make your way onto the bleachers mindlessly, trying not to think about the events of today. You set your backpack next to you, not realizing there’s an unexpected guest making his way up to the top of the bleachers where you sat.

“Hi.” You jump, startled by the sudden voice as he sits next to you. You recognize that voice, obviously, so you flinch before turning to him. “Y/n, right?”

You nod, not sure how to continue this. There’s a plethora of things he could say, and you’d rather not hear any of them. Matt taps his fingers on the bleachers, waiting for you to acknowledge that he’s said anything; when you realize you nod.

“Look,” he starts, and that’s never a good sign, “Your letter was really kind and whatever, but I just broke up with my girlfriend. I’m not really ready for anything serious, so if you’re looking for casual-”

“I wrote that in 7th grade.”

“Oh.” He says, scratching his head. “Why’d you send the letter then?” You look to your left, spotting your friend's boyfriend walking towards you, and you panic.

“Kiss me,”

“Okay.” He shrugs, grabbing you. His eyes are closed, but you don’t bother closing yours. You’re a bit busy glancing in the direction of your other victim, and when you watch his face fall as he turns back around, you finally close your eyes. “Not that I’m mad about it, but what just happened?”

“It’s really hard to explain, but you’re not the only one that got a letter. The other person is my best friends boyfriend,”

“Damn. That’s low of you, and I’m not special? My feelings are hurt.” He smiles a little bit, trying to ease your tense expression. “I wrote his before I ever wrote yours, and before they knew each other. I can’t talk to him, though, and if she ever finds out, it'll break her heart.”

“Okay, respect. I gotta get to practice, but I’ll find you tomorrow?”

You want to say no, but you don’t. He did just do you a big favor after all. “Yeah, see you then.”

-

He sticks to his words, finding you in the library the next day. His mouth twists into a grin when he sees you, and he shuffles over holding eye contact with you.

“Hey,” He says, slightly whispering. It might be lunch, but the librarian is still strict. She wants to preserve the quiet atmosphere of the room, in which you can only hear the sound of flipping pages and an occasional murmur. “Mind if I join?” He settles in next to you.

“Uhm.. listen,” You say, launching into a monologue, “about the whole letter thing, It’s, uh, not what it seems. Well it is, but it’s not. I wrote those letters a long time ago, and they don’t reflect my feelings now, and I never meant for them to get out, so, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into it, and I’m sorry you did, get dragged into it, that is.”

“If you didn’t mean for them to get out, why would you send them?” He questions, tilting his head.

“I didn’t send them.”

“Okay, uhm, who did?”

“I don’t know, but I cannot talk to my friend's boyfriend, like ever.”

He nods, a mixture of concern and confusion evident on his face, like he’s really mulling the situation over.

“So, someone sent those letters behind your back? That’s not cool, dude. Messed up, but I think we can help each other out here, take control of the situation.” A wicked grin takes over his face. If you squint hard enough you can imagine a lightbulb over his head, like he’s had an “aha!” moment. “I have an idea,”

“What do you mean, control?”

“Yeah, control. Think about it, we fake date. You need your friend’s boyfriend off your back, and I need my ex to get jealous and come back to me. Win win, and it gives us a chance to control the narrative.”

“Yeah, I mean… it could work, maybe?” You respond, uncertainty in your tone. “How would it even work?

“I don’t see how it couldn’t.”

“Okay, I guess, but I don’t see how it could be that simple.”

“Yeah, it could. Trust me, we play it smart, manipulate the situation, and we get what we want.”

“Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

“You sure about this?” Matt asks, searching your eyes for confirmation.

“Yeah, I mean, you said it best. I can’t talk to him about this, not for a long while, anyways.”

“Sick.”

“So, uhm, what next?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, rules and stuff?”

“You want rules, you make ‘em’” He shrugs. You grab out a notebook, labeling the top ‘Rules’ in neat handwriting. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“No kissing,” you start writing, and Matt groans.

“If we’re not kissing, how do you expect anyone to believe we’re dating?” You squirm a little bit.

“Matt,” you say in a hushed tone. Heat rises to your cheeks. “I don’t really kiss people,”

“Wait,” he chuckles, trying to make a joke, “was I your first kiss?”

When you don’t answer, he gasps. It almost makes him feel bad, but not enough to apologize. “No kissing then,” he confirms, trying to steer the conversation forward. “What else?”

“No couple-y social media shit,”

“Agreed. We keep it low-key.” He nods. “What about spending time together? How often do we go on dates, and are we hanging out all the time?”

“I don’t know, maybe like, once a week? And I don’t wanna be around your friends all the time.”

“You don’t want to be around yours either,” he points out.

“Fair point. Once a week, I hang out with you?”

“Most days, yeah.”

“Also, no meeting the parents. That makes it too real.” You add.

“Off the table. Oh, I’m not calling you babe or any of that gross shit.” He says. You pale at the thought, literally gagging. “Please don’t, I think I’d throw up.”

“That it?” He laughs at you.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

The bell rings. “I’ll walk you to class,”

Your face morphs into confusion. “Why would you do that?”

“To make it seem like we’re really dating..?”

“Oh. Yeah,”

He walks you to class, hugging you when he drops you off. “Meet by the bleachers after school?”

“Yeah,” You say, slightly dazed by his request.

When you walk out of your classroom, you let your mind wander back to his ask, ‘what could he possibly want’ playing through your head. You walk through the front doors, taking a sharp left towards the bleachers; just like yesterday.

You’re not waiting for very long when Matt sneaks up on you, whispering “Boo.” into your ear.

You jump, caught off guard, but that’s besides the point.

“Hey,” he says, putting his hands on your waist.

“What are you doing?”

“People are looking.” He shrugs a little. You’re eager for him to get to the point; the longer you’re away from your bed, the more cozy and inviting it sounds. He clears his throat. “I need your number,”

He’s careful to make it come out as a whisper so surrounding students don’t hear. To them, you’re already a couple.

“And your address, so I can pick you up tomorrow.”

“What?”

“As your boyfriend, I’ll be driving you to school, and home, and I need to pick you up for our date too.”

“Date tomorrow?”

“If you’re free, for the ‘spending time together’ bit,” he says, pulling his hands from your waist and doing air quotes with his fingers.

“I can drive myself,” You tell him, as he grabs his phone out and hands it to you sneakily. You proceed to put your number in, and your address, before handing it back to you.

“You can, but it’s more convincing if we come together.” He murmurs, absorbed in drafting you a message. After a moment, you hear the familiar ping of a notification.

“There,” he grins proudly, showing you the message. “Now it’s official.”

-

The morning sun casts a warm glow on you, making you feel cozy and relaxed, despite the nerves growing. The idea of Matt, and his brothers, coming to pick you up scares you a bit. You fiddle with the strap of your backpack as you wait on your front porch.

When you see a car pull up, you know that’s your cue to start walking down your driveway. Matt hops out, rushing to hug you and open the passenger door for you.

“Doesn’t Chris usually sit there?” You ask quietly, still smiling to keep up the charade. “Yeah, I made him move.” He whispers back before he walks to the driver's seat.

“Good morning,” Nick says, sounding completely done. Chris doesn’t even raise his head, giving you a small wave. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You say softly, not wanting to disturb them. You think them going out of their way to pick you up this morning was disturbing enough.

The car ride was a mixture of awkward silence and small talk. Nick and Chris are both too tired to engage much, but Matt is trying his hardest to keep them involved.

You pull up to the school gates after a short while, Matt parks the car. You get out and he walks over to you, joining your hands while you walk in. He gives you a reassuring smile as you walk in, “Don’t worry, they’re not always like this in the morning. I promise it’s not personal.”

You nod, trying your best to offer a smile that comes out faint. “Yeah, I won’t take it personally. Thanks again for the ride, Matt.”

“Of course,”

The second you get into the school, Nick and Chris part ways with you two. You’re still holding hands, you realize, when the murmurs and glances direct themselves towards you. Matt can feel the anxious energy you radiate because of it, so he leans in to whisper in your ear, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Don’t worry, it’ll blow over soon.”

For all the stories you’d heard about him, you hadn’t expected him to be even half as polite. Maybe it’s because you were faking, you decide.

The rest of the day seems to float by in a blur, but Matt was right; the buzz around your relationship did seem to dissipate the more people saw you together. During lunch, you find yourself next to Matt. You’re doing your best to maintain the facade with his lacrosse friends, Chris among the group.

You can feel the stare of your best friend and her boyfriend though, and it only brings back those feelings of guilt and anxiety. You’re grateful for the distraction of food, though, because it provides you an out from conversations.

You’re not used to basking in the light like this.

As the bell rings, you feel a mixture of relief and apprehension. Matt walks you to your last class, of course, offering you a quick hug before parting ways.

The class passed by slowly as you try to piece together the events of the day. In under a week, you went from a nobody with 3 friends to a somebody dating one of the most popular boys. Fake dating.

When you’re finally dismissed from the shackles of public school, you feel an odd sense of relief. You know it won’t last very long because of your scheduled date tonight, but it’s there nonetheless.

You find Matt waiting outside your classroom, as promised, a smile on his face. He falls into step beside you as you make your way towards his car. The chatter of surrounding students fades into background noise when you’re with him. A cool breeze dances through the air, making you shiver a bit. For a moment, you stayed silent, enjoying the comfort he brought you just by being next to you.

It was reminiscent of middle school; his silence made you comfortable because you weren’t alone.

“Wait, don’t you have lacrosse practice?” You interrupt.

“I take Nick home everyday, I have time to take you too.”

You nod. As you navigate through the sea of juniors and seniors preparing to leave, Matt turns his head towards you. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, concern evident.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, offering a chuckle and a hesitant smile, “Just processing the day, you know? It’s kinda weird.”

He nods understandingly, turning his head back towards the car that Nick is already waiting at. The ride to your home feels significantly shorter when you engage in pleasant conversation with Nick and Matt.

Despite the guilt you feel over keeping up this act, the conversation flows genuinely and you find yourself really enjoying it. He pulls into your driveway, putting the car in park and smiling at you.

“Thank you, and thanks for today.”

“No problem, I’ll see you tonight?”

“You bet,” You say, waving goodbye to Nick. You walk into your house and feel like a puddle of goo, every emotion flooding your body in one go. It’s only the second day of pretending, and you’re feeling like a fly stuck in a web of lies.

Despite your conflicting feelings, you begin to get ready for your date, feeling genuine excitement. Even if it’s just as friends, Matt is really pleasant to be around.

Matt: Movie at 7:30?

You: Perfect, see you then.

The hours tick by as you prepare yourself to hang out with him. You hear a knock on your front door that makes you jump. “Dad, I'm going out!” You yell, rushing out to join Matt.

You weren’t expecting him to hug you when you stepped out. There was no one around to keep it up for, but you decided not to question it. “Hi Matt,”

“Hi.” He grins, pulling away from you. “I didn’t buy tickets yet because I wanted you to choose the movie,”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You tell him, heart filled with gratitude. It was a small gesture, yet it immediately made your middle school crush on him come back.

“I feel like you know a lot about me, so I thought you choosing the movie would help me learn something about you.” He said as you pulled into the movie theater parking lot.

“Yeah, I’ll pick.” You giggle at him, hopping out. When you walk in, you’re overwhelmed by the aggressive scent of buttered popcorn. Matt glanced around, beginning to guide you to the ticket counter. “Shit, that’s my ex.”

“It’s cool, play up the pda to make her more jealous,”

His arm wraps around your waist as he leans into you, pretending to whisper something in your ear. When you walk up to the counter, he unwraps his arm for a mere second to grab his wallet.

“Movie?” He asks. You tell him and he nods. “Two tickets please, he hands his ex his card.

“Hi, Matt.” She says, smiling at him. You immediately get possessive vibes that make you feel uncomfortable, but that means the plan is working. “Oh hey,” He smiles lightly, acting nonchalant.

“Who’s this?” You can literally feel the jealousy she's emitting, and it makes you shift in his grasp. “This is my girlfriend, the tickets?”

“Oh, sorry.” She hands him the tickets, making sure to brush his hand while she glared at you. As you walk towards the next counter to buy popcorn, you start laughing. “I don’t think she liked me much.”

“Good, means the plan is working.” He says, going to fish for his wallet again.

“Nuh-uh. My turn.”

“That’s not really how dates work, but nice try.”

It feels like the hours have crept away from you. The movie comes to an end, despite you willing it to last longer. Matt offers you a hand and pulls you up, making sure to hold your hand when you exit the theater. It almost makes your heart flutter; then you remember why he’s doing it.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” He says, offering you his jacket when you step into the brisk air. You smile, feeling fulfillment while you slide his jacket on. “I liked it, thanks for letting me choose. And, um, thanks for tonight. It was… interesting.”

“No problem,” he says, sounding relaxed. “I liked it too. We make a good fake couple, don’t we?”

You continue chatting while you walk to the car, and while he drops you off. Matt gets out to walk you up to your door, genuinely surprising you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He says, offering you another hug. You slide off his jacket and melt into him before handing it back. “Thanks, Matt.”

“See you tomorrow morning?”

You nod.

You close the door behind you, feeling the weight of the day settle into your skin. You’re beginning to ease into the fake relationship; even as the facade gets increasingly complex. You sink into your bed, shifting off to dreamland.

As the week goes on, your arrangement only gets better. You avoid your friend's boyfriend, and he starts getting desperate texts from his ex. By the end of the week, you’re sure he’s close to breaking it off.

When Matt drops you off at home on Friday afternoon, you’re insanely smiley. You feel on top of the world. The day seemed normal enough, for your new normal anyways, but there was an odd air of tension everywhere you went. You knew something was wrong when your best friend landed on your doorstep mere moments later.

She was your best friend for a reason- you trusted her with almost everything, so she didn’t understand why this week, you’d suddenly gone ghost. You normally talked every second of every hour if you could, but this week, your communication had been limited to fleeting glances across the cafeteria, or in the hallway.

You open your front door to find her standing there, eyes ablaze with anger. “Hey.. what’s up?” You say, prompting her to talk and cut through the thick silence.

“Where have you been all week?”

“At school..?”

“No, I mean, where have you been? You avoided me on Monday, and you started dating Matthew Sturniolo out of nowhere; I didn’t even know you were talking! I’ve barely seen you this week and normally we spend all our time together. Something isn’t right.”

You feel like you’re shrinking under her intense gaze. Stammering out an apology isn’t really working for her, or you, because the weight of your fabricated relationship with Matt pinned your tongue. “It’s not like that..”

“Don’t give me that!” She says, glaring at you. “We tell each other everything. Why are you shutting me out now?”

You wrack your brain for an excuse, trying to think of anything to get her off your back when you remember a conversation you’d had with her about Matt. “Look, I know I’ve been unfair to you… but I know you don’t like Matt, and I really do. I’ve been caught up with him, and I didn’t want to tangle you into it because I know you don’t like him.”

“He’s a dick.” She says to you, bluntly. “I don’t think you should be dating him, much less talking to him and ignoring me for him. Haven’t you heard the shit he’s pulled with other girls?”

“Of course I have but-”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not different. He’s going to leave you in the dust too.”

Her words cut through you, sharp and painful. The truth hovered on the tip of your tongue, but the weight of secrecy still held it down. You didn’t know how to get out of this one. “He’s not like that with me,” you attempt to defend, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “People change, you know?”

“You’re being naïve, and I hate seeing you like this. Ignoring your best friend for a guy who’s going to hurt you in the end.”

You’re feeling shackled, like you’re in the ocean trying to stay above the surface, but there’s a weight tied to your ankle.

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, voice shaking “but I know what I’m doing. We’re happy together. You say, a feigned smile gracing your lips. Her harsh glare softens. “I trust you. Just, be careful. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod, acting like you’re relieved, but the pit in your stomach only deepens as the web of woven lies becomes more intricate. She leaves, and you close the door behind you, sinking down to the floor.

All of this because of some letters.

The sound of a message coming through your phone snaps you out of your contemplation. You glance at it, immediately smiling when you see Matt’s name pop up.

Matt: Hangout tomorrow? Nick and Chris r asking

You: Yeah, what time?

Matt: Noon?

You: I’ll be there

Matt: I’ll pick you up

You heart the message, standing from the floor. When you retire for the night, your friend's warning re-enters your mind. You know she’s right, but the reality of your fake dating thing with Matt tugs you back into its tangled web, as it always does.

Each text from Matt, while making you smile, feels like another string of deceit weaving into a thousand more. It just deepens as time goes on. The lure of his attention and the comfort of the familiarity you feel with him vie against the guilt that gnaws at your conscience.

You’ve realized the gravity of the situation, but the truth remains locked in, barricaded by fear and the entanglements you’ve created. You want to call it off, you’ve wanted to, but you don’t want to risk falling into a chasm of more confrontations- from both your friend, and her boyfriend.

You try to shove it out of your mind so you can sleep though, preparing for your day with Matt tomorrow.

-

When you wake up the next morning, you feel giddy. You put more effort into getting ready than you normally would on a Saturday. Then, there’s a knock on your door and a hug awaiting you. This time, you don’t question if people are around, you just accept it with a grin.

“Nick and Chris wanted to come get you,” He tells you, pulling you down the driveway. Yet again, the front seat is empty for you. The energy of the triplets was infectious, in the best way possible. You immediately found yourself comforted by their presence, the simplicity of just being around them had an inexplicable effect on your already good mood.

The drive feels effortless as you settle into conversation with the group. It reminds you of how uncomfortable you’d been mere days ago, and how much had changed. You kind of frown at the thought, but quickly catch it. Matt’s smile never faltered though, leaving you with an odd sense of melancholy when you’re reminded that it’s all fake.

You can’t help but be surprised by your surroundings when you enter the house. You knew the outside, obviously having known the address, but the inside exceeds all your expectations. Family pictures litter the walls, candles are everywhere. It’s cute.

“Your parents aren’t here, right?” You whisper. “Nope.”

“So, what should we do?” Chris speaks up, cutting through the silence. You shrug in response while Matt and Nick go into deep thought.

“We should bake!”

“Nope.” Matt says at the same time you say “Okay.”

When Matt hears you, he turns in your direction. Seeing your smile at the presented idea, he changes his mind. “Yeah, baking sounds good.”

Nick glances at him skeptically, the switch-up being unusual. When your eyes wander towards Chris, you notice his confusion too.

“Baking it is.” Nick mumbles, leading you to the kitchen.

“Alright, what are we making?” Chris pipes in, pulling out various bowls. “Brownies?” Matt suggests, “I think we have a mix and I don’t wanna run to the store right now.”

“Wait, we’re awful at baking. Why are we baking?” Chris questions, wracking his brain to find the answer.

“It’ll be eventful,” Nick replies.

“If we mess shit up and it gets messy, I’m blaming it on you.”

Nick groans, going to grab the mix and the various ingredients listed on the box. “If you do that, I’m gonna tell mom about that time that you-”

“And that’s enough!” Matt cuts him off, grabbing eggs out of Nick’s hand. He ushers you further into the action of the kitchen, imploring you to get comfortable.

“You bake a lot?” He asks, smiling.

“Not really,” You admit, laughing at the commotion surrounding you. It’s fascinating to you how those around you have become such an integral part of your everyday life in the week you’d known them, despite only being in your circle for under a week.

You know your relationship with Matt is false- how could you not? You remind yourself constantly, but these new relationships you’d forged because of Matt? Some of the realest ones you’d ever experienced.

A crack snaps you out of your thoughts, followed by a millisecond of silence. “Chris!” Nick yells, looking at the fallen egg.

“How is this my fault?!” Matt finds himself laughing with you.

The brownies turn out so horribly burnt you’re not even sure if you can call them brownies anymore, and the mess is colossal, but even when Matt drops you off you only have good things to say about, and to, the group.

“Thank you,”

“Of course. I’ll pick you up on Monday?”

“See you then.” You say, waving to Nick and Chris.

The next couple weeks go by so smoothly, you almost forget you’re acting. They’re relatively the same as the first, save for more interactions with your friend. Being with Matt and his brothers, and even his friends, feels natural. Your weeks become more routine, and the plan is working. Matt’s ex is obviously getting more green as time goes on, and your friend's boyfriend won’t even spare you a passing glance.

By your one-month ‘anniversary’, you’re almost 100% sure you two are in the clear. You’re waiting at home for Matt to pick you up, excited to be with him, but feeling a pit on your stomach nonetheless. When you hear the now-familiar knock on your door, you can’t help but run to answer it.

“Hi Matt,”

“Hi.” He smiles and reaches out to hug you, like normal, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes in the way it usually does. It’s missing its charm. He guides you to the car, sure to open the passenger door for you, but the gesture is missing its usual warmth. He takes you to this cute diner, one that you’ve mentioned in a passing conversation, but the earlier apprehension you felt only grows stronger.

When you sit down, you finally decide you can’t take it anymore. “Is something wrong, Matt?”

“Not wrong, really. My ex wants me back. She texted me the other night,”

“Oh,” Is all you can say, trying to force a smile to your face. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” He says. You’re not sure if you’re grasping at straws, but you feel like he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself too. “Do you think you’re okay to break this off?”

“Uhm, yeah. I think my friend’s boyfriend is leaving me alone.” You nod at him, looking everywhere but his face. “Should we just go?”

He can’t argue with that, so instead of getting that cute little dinner date you were promised, you’re sitting back in Matt’s car in silence as he drives you home. The atmosphere felt heavy. You’re stopped at a red light when you finally glance over at him for the first time this entire ride back. He’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous tic you’d never noticed before, while his eyes are set on the traffic lights.

“I’m sorry,” He finally says, the second the light turns green.

“For what?” You reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“For coming up with this idea. It was stupid and I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t be sorry, Matt. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed. It wasn’t stupid; it did what we wanted it to do.”

He nodded, but your gaze lingered on him. You could see the mixture of guilt and gratitude swirling through his eyes. “At least it’s over, right? We manipulated the situation.” You say, trying to bring up the mood. You’re trying not to make something of nothing, but his mood seems just as melancholic as yours. “At least it’s over.”

When the car reaches your house, Matt can’t find it in himself to move, to walk you to your door. He hears your seatbelt click, signaling that you’re taking your leave.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Matt.”

When you exit the car, a bittersweet realization washes over Matt. This isn’t what he wanted. He grips the steering wheel, hurriedly putting his car into reverse. He can’t linger any longer, or he’ll make a rash decision and run back to you. He wanted his ex back, and now that’s what he’s getting.

The next day, you wake up with absolutely zero pep in your step. You drag yourself out of bed, drag yourself into your car, and drag yourself through the halls in the morning. The entire world seems more quiet without Matt next to you; your steps echo in your ears. You catch glimpses of familiar faces, but today, they seem almost alien. It makes you wish you’d never left your bed. By lunch, everybody knows something is wrong. Your spot by Matt’s side has been reclaimed by his ex girlfriend. You don’t miss the pitying looks his friends give you, especially Nick and Chris.

You never realized how humiliating it’d be when people saw that Matt left you for his ex.

You settle in your old spot, across from your best friend and her boyfriend, trying to make the whole thing feel natural. It doesn’t.

The whispers and glances you’re receiving from others feel like needles pricking at your already unsettled emotions, and your friend’s compassionate eyes don’t make you feel any more comfortable.

“Matt’s a jerk. I hate him.” She tells you, and it hurts your heart a bit.

“I don’t.” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the situation pressing on you. She winces at you defending him, but rebounds. There’s a strong desire to call him every name in the book, but resorts to saying “I can't believe he would do that to you.”

You want to tell her the truth, the lies of the situation having weighed heavy on your mind, but you know that’d defeat the purpose. You thought that when you’d ended the relationship, the entanglement of fibs you’d found yourself in would unravel, but you feel as though they’d only gotten more complicated. “You told me he would.” You say, pushing your school lunch around. She winces again.

“I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.”

When Matt stands next to his ex, who all his friends tell him is a catch, he can’t help but feel empty. His eyes wander away from his table, landing on you. Memories flood back, a mixture of genuine and orchestrated moments swirling within his mind. He’s completely dipped out of the conversation his friends are having, his grip on his new-old girlfriend's waist weakening as he thinks of you.

He catches the slightest glimpse of your eyes, one that you immediately divert; a mixture of confusion and hurt sprinkled within. A pant of guilt hits him, but he tries to forget about it as he turns back to the conversation presented to him.

“What’s gotten into you dude?” Someone asks. Matt shrugs, trying to stay involved. His eyes wander back to you, and then over to Chris, who mouths “Get her back.” at him.

He tries to pretend like he didn’t see that. He has what he wants, his girlfriend, and you have what you want, maybe.

He knows one thing: he doesn’t like the hole your absence has left in his daily routine.

The week comes and goes, Friday night rolling around and the pain of losing each other doesn’t go away. Matt’s battling himself internally to convince himself that both you and him are happier apart; he knows that’s not true. You’re fighting with yourself constantly to not spill your guts to someone, pressure that you had shared with him before the fake, but impossibly real split, weighing on you. It’s past midnight by the time your wandering mind calms enough for you to sleep.

At this point, Matt’s drafted up about 4 text messages to you, and none of them convey what he’s truly wanted to say. He called it off already with his ex-ex girlfriend. The moment she’d started badmouthing you in front his friends put a sour taste in his mouth; that, and he’d realized he was searching for you in every one of their interactions.

He’s restless, consumed by thoughts of longing for your presence. In the silence of the night, he’s grabbing his keys and heading. You think you’re imagining it when you’re awoken by the stall of an engine, but you’re forced to confront the taps on your window.

As you slowly approach the window, pulling back the curtain, you're confronted by Matt’s anxious gaze, illuminated by the faint, cool glow of the moonlight. You rush downstairs, barely stopping to slide a hoodie and some shoes on. The mix of emotions you feel are mirrored in his expression- a blend of nervousness, vulnerability, and longing. With the weight of unspoken words hanging between you, he opens his arms, pulling you in for a warm hug. He’s worried you won’t hear him out, desperate to express what he wanted to tell you in his unsent messages, but his desire to hold you far outweighs his uneasiness.

“I couldn’t keep lying to myself, and you.” He says, face buried in your neck. “I’ve been lost without you, and I can’t pretend I’m happier this way. I miss us, even if it wasn’t real.” His voice contains traces of sincerity, regret, and insecurity, but he feels a sense of strong relief take over at his admission. “I know it was fake- it started out fake- but I’m in love with you now.”

His honesty resonates as his eyebrows unfurrow, his entire body relaxing, and the weight that’s been dragging you to the bottom of the ocean is shed. Rather than sinking, you’re floating peacefully above the soft waves. You pull away from him, your anxieties dissipating like mist under the moonlight. The depth of his words stir an array of emotions within you: astonishment, relief, and a spark of hope. You search his calm eyes, being practically slapped in the face by his sincere and loving expression.

You can’t help but kiss him, seeing the way the moon puts an ethereal glow on his gestures. “I missed us too,” You start, in a soft voice. The air between you is finally cleared. “and I love you too.”

“Can we date, for real this time?” Matt blurts out, going to kiss you again. He feels intoxicated, your second-ever kiss not being a fraction of enough to sate his ever-growing hunger.

You might have started as a fraud, but somewhere along the way, when the tides shifted and your world changed, you emerged from your cocoon, into a glorious and charismatic butterfly.

“If you’ll have me as your girlfriend, for real this time.”

He kisses you again.

[dark-night-hero]

「Thru these tears」 Getou Suguru

↳ In which In the end, you're gonna be alright. But it might take a hundred sleepless nights to make memories of him disappear but right now, you can't see nothing through these tears.

It was one of those days, rare days where he was not by that annoying Gojo Satoru's side. Probably has something to do with him and his love aka your best friend currently walking side by side in front of the two of you and Geto. Nevertheless you could only sigh and roll your eyes, trying not to pay attention to the guy right beside you, looking equally bored as you as you mindlessly follow the leading pair.

"Hey. Wanna stray away from them?" "And leave my bestfriend with that guy?" "Well I can't see why not, they're enjoying." He shrugs acting like the four of you were adults in this Gion Matsuri festival when you were just a bunch of 15 year old teenagers sent on a joint mission with the Tokyo branch to survey the ongoing festival. A mission in which your best friend with his fiance made as their date, catching up with each other as if they have not seen each other for a very long time in which you really doubt.

"Come on, let them be." "But-" "I saw some interesting stalls back there, wanna check them with me?" "..." Looking back and forth between your friend looking safe and side right beside Gojo and his guy right beside you, you sigh. Putting your full attention to him, "What's your name?" You did not fail to notice the way he seems to be taken a back by your question. "Geto, Geto Suguru." "So it's you." "You've heard about me?" "About you and Gojo Satoru over there actually. I'm (Lastname)(First name). It's a pleasure to meet you." You introduce yourself, holding up a hand for a handshake. "I've heard a lot of stories about you too, actually." He replied, taking your hand as the two of you shook hands before letting go, walking on the opposite direction of where the other two was heading. "I hope it's a good news not a bad news." "I could say the same thing about me and Satoru..."

That night was nothing new. The mission came to an end that same night as there was no suspicious person nor special grade curses lurking that night like the report says. Probably because you and your friend have already taken care of things right before the actual joint mission due to your friend wanting to spend more time with Gojo. Looking back of it now, all the stress of that was now gone as you end up experiencing a different thing from what you expected off which is third wheeling from your friend and their fiancee.

"I had fun." You mumble under your breath as the two of you, you and Geto-san is currently waiting at the meet up spot the four of you have agreed to meet upon. Glancing at the man beside you who was quiet, one phone in hand, the other on his pocket. You ended up looking as soon as he glance back at your direction, earning a chuckle. "I had fun today." "Me too." "Though it's quite a shame since there was no curse in sight like the report says" "Ehem. I wonder about what too." "You do?" Once again he looked at you and your eyes end up meeting. Though this time, you end up rolling your eyes at him because he was looking at you like he knows very well why there was no curse in sight. "They're here." You spoke, spotting the couple from distance when you felt a tap on your shoulder. "What's the matter Geto-san?" You asked, looking at him only to find him... quite flustered? "If it's okay with you, can I have your number?"

Your head was throbbing and damn you do not know if it was because of the memories or has something to do with the bandages on your head. It hurts every step you take. Nevertheless that did not stop you from going where you want to go. With a bandage all over your head, dry throat and bleeding hand due to the harsh removal of the IV drop. You navigate your way to see the man you really needed to see right now. Gojo fucking Satoru. The man that could only answer your questions right now, the only one you would listen to right now.

And there after knowing for what is like forever to you walking down this hallway of who knows where. You spotted him, heads down as he dumped into you and damn, never have you ever seen him looking so damn pissed off right now, almost scaring you but you did not dare backdown. "Look where you're goi- oh. It's you." And now by the tone of his voice, the way he was looking at you. He looks more pissed than before yet you did not miss the way those blue iris of his looks at you in embarrassment and pity. Why?

Why do they kept looking at you like that? All while avoiding where in the fucking hell is Suguru was? Despite your throbbing head, you took a hold of Gojo that was about to walk away from you. "Where is Suguru?" You asked, gripping on his wirst. But he did not answer, nor he tried to pull away from your hold. He just stood there, unable to look at you in the face as he if was contemplating to even talk about it. And you are having none of it. "Gojo Satoru. Where is Suguru?" "... know." "What?" "I said I don't know!" With his sudden outburst, you were taken a back, a sudden force between the two of you caused you to let go of him and almost hitting the wall beside if it was not for the person who grabbed you and pull you towards them.

"Satoru!" It was the sound of your best friend, though it was quite different from the last time you have heard of it. "You knew better than to lash out at them!" "Well I'm sorry! They just kept on pissing me off-fuck!" You have never seem him like that. The way the Gojo Saturu looking all distress and angry at the same time. You have never seem him like that causing a bad feeling on your chest. It made you unconsciously cling into your bestfriend's arms that was warped around you giving you some sort of comfort. "Suguru..." You utter your lover's name, looking up to your friend for some sort of answer. "Where is Suguru?"

But just like any other, your friend looked away from you. And if felt like something broke inside you. "Why are you looking away?" Your head is throbbing like shit. "Why can't you- anyone answer me?" Your eyes were bloodshot. "Why won't you say a damn thing?!-" "Because we don't know where he went!" "Do you think that's making any sense-?" You could not helo but to pause for a moment as your head throbbed painfully, awfully painful as some memories came into mind. "Come to think of it..." You look at Gojo, "You're supposed to be dead aren't you? Didn't Toji-? That bastard from zenin clan killed you? Why are you here? How come you're alive?? Also- right, He went after Suguru right? Where is he-?" "That was three years ago, (First name)." What?

"You've been in coma for three years." Your friend explained as gently as they could. "And well... So much have changed all those years ago, (First name)." Your friend then looks away from you and turn to look at Gojo, all you did was to follow your friend's gaze as Gojo looks at them before turning his back at the two of you as if he already leave the explanation in the hands of your friend. And they did, all those things that happened the moment you were in coma, the fall out of the two strongest, the way they started walking into different path. Your condition over the past few years which seems to put more toll not only to your friend but also for your lover. The death of their kohai and lastly. "Last night, it was reported that Geto Suguru killed... murdered 112 villigers and is now a fugitive, someone who is to be kill on sight."

You felt like your entire world was falling apart. It felt like someone ripped ot your lungs from your chest, you could not breathe. Your head could not stop throbbing, it feels like someone kept bashing a hammer in it over and over again. And yet all the words your friend have said was clear. It was so damn clear. "Geto Suguru is now considered as a curse user." Your ears were ringing. You could not help but to gasp, holding on into your head as you curl up forward if it was not for your friend holding you in their arms but you cannot feel it. It hurts. Why? Why why why why why? Why would he do something like that? Why? Just fucking why? Holding on into every bit of sanity you have, you gripped in the arms of your friend and was about to say something when everything went black.

"I know it was out of the blue but I think I like you a lot." Just like he said, it was out of the blue. Very random in the middle of the way you are having right not. Not so far away from you two was the couple who seems to have been spending every bit of time in their life right now. Something you would never understand, yet to understand. Not until the following years. "Quit being silly, Geto-san." You chuckle. Nudging him by his side. It was such a peaceful day, it was also the last day of the joint exercise from both schools. Meaning you would not be meeting again for the mean time.

As soon as you said that, he stopped walking, looking all serious causing your smile to fade away as you too stop walking. "Are you serious?" You asked, dumbfounded. Ever since the joint mission between the four of you, you and Geto have been in contact which each other taking about trivial matters, often talking over the phone with some random stuffs, mostly talking about Gojo and your best friend. Laughing over some matter and openly flirting with each other, something you thought was platonic did really end up having a meaning behind it after denying everything to your bestfriend.

"I like you..." He stated, a meter away from you. "A lot." He added, those black iris of his seems to be searching something from your (eye color) ones. With out mouth opening and closing. "More than Gojo Satoru?" "What?" "What?" Looking dumbfounded at each other, you could not help but to let out a laugh in which he too follows. "What kind of question is that?" He chuckle. "Of course I like you more than Satoru. He's my best friend but you are something else." "That's surprising." You did it again, eyes wide open as you hold up a hand to your lips, ruining the mood but he still laughs at it. "So if it's okay with you, would you like to go out with me?"

"Yeah, sure. Let's date." You replied. And for a moment, as the sunset within the horizon. It's golden like sunlight illuminate his face, causing your eyes to widen as a genuine, by far the happiness smile makes its way on his lips, brushing back his black hair that was still growing like he said he had plan to keep his hair long. He smiles at you and hold up a hand. "I'll make sure you won't regret that." "We'll see about that, Geto-san." You smile back at him, taking his hand. "Call me Suguru." "When I get used to it." "(First name)." It was the first time he called you by your name as it has always been your surname.

You blink, then you look away from him as you felt your cheeks burning. Nevertheless as the two of you continue to walk hand in hand within the same path your bestfriend and their fiance that now seems to have vanished from your sigh was going through, it was peaceful.

"So this is where you've been." You did not look at your friend, who have come by your side as you focused on the cigarette in your hand, right beside you was a countless bottle of beer. You were hoping to get drunk. A few years ago you would not even dare of doing such thing, you were still underage after all and yet here you are. In a blink of an eye you are adult now, very well drinking wishing the next day would never come. There was nothing to look forward into anyway.

Instead of replying to your friend, you just puff out a cloud of smoke before trashing your cigarette on the ground. Reaching out for another on inside the pack only to realize it is now empty. "Fuck." You curse, reaching out for another bottle of beer only to realize there was nothing left but empty bottles for you to throw away. "Fuck." This time you sound even more annoyed than you already are. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles under your eyes, messy hair, clothes you barely manage to put on. "(First name), let's go home."

"I don't understand." You states, brushing your friend suggestion off. "It was just like yesterday... Everything was so fine, we were still students, going on into missions once in while... and now we're adults." "(First name)..." "Everything was fine damn it. I have you, I have Suguru and a huge bright future a head of us. What happened?" "... So much happened..." Your friend replied and you shake your head. "I know that already... I know that already... But for me it was just like yesterday where everything was fine and now..."

Looking around in the same spot where you and Suguru used to go to alot. Hoping, wishing to at least see him in here. But he's not, nor does he ever show any signs of showing up right in front of you, something he had given the chance to Gojo and Shoko.

"Everyone was expecting me to just shrug it off." You chuckle. "They're expecting me to not give a damn about it and trust me, I'm trying." You look down at your shaking hands as your vision starts to get blurry. "But the more I am left off with myself, I kept thinking, why? Why would he do such a thing? I know Suguru, I know he would never do such a thing unless there was a reason behind it." It was just an endless unanswered thoughts of whys. "Why... why would he leave me all alone?" This time, you look at your friend who ended up pulling you in their arms, whispering endless apologies. It was none of their fault anyways.

"It's going to be okay? Alright?" Your best friend caresses your back. "It will be tough, but I'll get you through this- we'll help you through this- okay?" "No... No... You don't understand it. Suguru is the only one I have... Without him... I can't... I just can't." You smile despite the tears rolling down your cheeks. "I don't understand... How did we come into this?" You were late, years too late.

"Stop." "Stop what?" He smiles as you shove your hands on his face. "Stop staring at me like that, I'm embarrassed." "You look like you were enjoying it tho." As you glare at him, you hears a gagging noise right in front of you causing you to roll your eyes at the white haired guy currently playing with the star plasma vessel within the shore. "Don't be like that Satoru, we didn't say a thing whenever you and your fiance kept sucking each other's face right in front of us."

Loving Geto Suguru was fun, a one of a kind love you would never trade for something else. It was the kind of love you never thought you were looking for. He was kind, caring, spoiling you every now and then, and even despite being in the same case of being a special grade sorcerer, he knows how to make you feel protected. With Suguru by your side, you felt sheltered and protected, almost away from the complicated jujutsu world that you live in. Suguru was home.

"Maybe we should go on a trip." "Hmm? All of a sudden? We're still in the middle of this mission you know." You replied to your lover of two years before looking at the still messing around Gojo and Riko within the shore. "Isn't he overworking himself? His infinity is still on." "I know, I was just about to talk to him about it." Suguru sigh causing you to give him a gentle pat in the back. "He has you and me here, there is nothing he should over work himself for. It's quite a shame my bestfriend is currently assigned overseas right now." Strange timing to be honest. "So about that trip you are talking about, what about it?" "Nothing, just you and me on a beach. What do you think? Right after this mission." He asked and of course, with the brightest smile on your face, you agreed.

"Should I cut my hair soon?" As you were about to stand up underneath the huge parasol shielding you and your lover away from the sun, you look back at him, topless and grabbing the end of his hair. "Should you? I think you look good in long hair." "It's quite annoying to maintain it." He huff causing you to laugh and flick his forehead before making your way into the shore where the two troublemakers where still playing at but not before looking back at Suguru before saying, "Hair holds memories you know, it's been two years since your last haircut, but if you do find it annoying. I'll go to the barbers with you."

You cannot sleep. More like you refuse to sleep. You are tired, constantly being sent into missions. Just drowning yourself into endless mission so you would not be having that much time to think about stuffs, to think about him but in the very end he still appears in your dream with memories you long to forget. So here you are, standing still wearing baggy clothes, your feet bringing you into the only place you find some sort of comfort with.

Usually you would stay there for a moment, at least when you finish a pack of cigarette you manage to buy from the nearest convenient store where you have left your car parked when you happened to come across a very familiar looking back. Though the hair that used to be shoulder length tied up in a bun was now let loose, it was not that long, but sure long enough to make you realize it had grown a little long just like how times have passed by while you were in a coma.

"Suguru." His name flowed out of your mouth before you knew it, a name you have not called for so long yet still vivid in your mind. It feels like everything just happened yesterday. And the man upon hearing his name, you saw him flinch, you did not miss the way he does as you took a step towards him but eventually stops. He did not look back nor he did not reply. He just stood there, a couple of steps right in front of you, looking forward into the city light as the two of you would often state at.

"Suguru." Once again you called out his name, this time, sounding a little, perhaps a bit desperate. "Suguru please talk to me." "You aren't supposed to be in here, (First name)." It made you flinch, not because of his words, but by the tone of his voice you are not familiar with. It sounds the same, but you knew it is not the same. "You knew better than to go in here and not expecting to meet me in the process." "That's true... maybe I was ho... I just couldn't go to sleep tonight." "What was that?" There was no reply.

This was not the scene you were expecting when you see him again. Not when the two of you looked quite tired, although his back was turned into you, you could see it by his posture. He was tired. And as much as you want to pull that man into your arms and tell him it was going to be alright. Something side was telling you that this person right in front of you was not the same guy you used to love, that this person right in front of you is someone who is now considered to be one of the most dangerous person within the world or sorcery and curses. But he was still the person you used to love, still love.

As you stand there on your guard, he turn around, causing you to unconsciously took a step back and for a moment, just for a moment you asked yourself if it was the right thing to do as you saw a glint of sadness within those black iris before it vanished like it was never there. "Let's not see each other again, (First name)."

You hate it. You fucking hate him. He was the one who left you with saying a thing, not even a note. So why does he sound like he would never see you again? Why does he sound so fucking sad and hurt when he said that was if he was tying to convince himself when he said that? Glaring at him as he casually walked passed you. You felt your eyes sting as you quickly turn around. "So this is it? Not even hi, hello, goodbye. Just straight up let's not see each other again? Really? Suguru?"

He did not turn around nor did he reply was he just kept walking away from you with in a very calm phase, as if it was intentional, as if he was really showing off the fact that he was walking away from you. "Suguru." He did not stop. "Suguru." This time you sound like you were commanding him. "Suguru." And this time was desperate. "Are you really going to walk away without even explaining yourself to me?" Fuck, fuck these fucking tears that makes your vision all blurry, making you wipe away the tears on your face. Then he spoke, "Nanako and Mimiko often wake up at night, I need to go."

You knew those names from report, the two girls that was causing trouble in that very same village that was murdered by this man right in front of you. You have always thought the two were killed alongside the villagers. And thinking about it now. You could not help but to chuckle despite the tears that was rolling down your cheeks this whole time. It make sense, at the same time it does not make anysense to you why he could easily abandon you over them. Because if he ask you to come with him, you would. You would fucking go with him.

You want to scream, you want to laugh, you want to cry as if you are not already doing that. You felt like you were going inside as you tried to blink away the tears in your eyes. You want to see him, you want to imprint this memory in mind while you can, this memory of him walking away from you in mind as you said your last final words to him. "Walk away and we're done, Geto Suguru." You were so confident when you stated that, so confident that he would, in fact walk away from you and in that, you would finally be able to leave everything about him behind as you finally know the reason why he did such thing.

Except he did not. As soon as you said that, you watch him halt. What the heck? "I said walk away and we're done, Suguru." You look at his back like he was insane as he stay in place. "I said walk away and we're done! What are you doing?!" You are mad, you are starting to go mad. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Are you trying to screw over my feelings? Huh!? Answer me Geto Suguru!" Funny how he chooses them, how he chooses his new ideals over you and when you are finally letting him call it quits. He just could not.

"Fuck!" You screamed, wanting to pull your hair out of frustration and madness as you continue to glare at that back of his. But you knew very well why. He just loved you so much, so much that your accident left a huge scar over him. A guilt of not being there by your side when you almost died. Geto Suguru might have chosen this path but he just could not let you go. And you knew that, you knew that. Those stares you were feeling whenever you went out to finish some dangerous missions. Those anonymous help you kept receiving during critical situations. Just as much as you could not let him go, he could not let you go too. And you hate him for that. You fucking hate him for that.

As tears roll down your cheeks, as painful sobs escape your lips. "I hate you." You sob. "I fucking hate you, Suguru." You knew that he loves you despite of everything. So why does it hurts? "I hate that I love you so fucking much." You do not want to love him anymore. For the sake of both parties, one must step away of you are both doomed. "Goodbye, Suguru."

You hate that at the very end of the way, it was you who decided to walk away. Walking passed his figure, purposely bumping into his shoulder in a very gentle manner. You did not look back, you do not want to look back. For only doing so would make you waiver. Walking back into your car, you started it and never look back, driving away from that place and never to come back. But half way through the drive. You stopped, hitting the breaks before pulling it to the side of the road.

It was clear to you what you both had and who the two of you before and now. But right now, as you curl up in your seat, one hand covering your mouth as you try to cover up your ugly sobs, the other clenching on your chest when your phone rings. But you did not play attention to it because aside from the undescribeable pain you are feeling right now, you cannot see anything else thru these tears. Why does to be in the very end, had to be you who walks away with so much memories between the two of you.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: Might or may not make a part two in Geto's POV cuz why not but also might not because this might end up as a ff book series if I had more time in the future. Inspired by Thru these tears by Lany.

[chuubian]

Kinktober week three:

Guilty Pleasure

Tags Vampire Nikolai x gn reader, age gap, blood, tree sex, no prep, rough sex, no protection, pls try not to fuck strangers in the forest who drink your blood

Summary Ever since you were little, everyone in the village had warned you about what lurked in the woods. You should've listened.

A/N I felt like i should start making them actually Halloween themed, so from now on they'll be a little creepier and about supernatural things hehe. Also this was supposed to come out yesterday but its a little longer so it came out late sorry !!

An abyss of mystery had you completely surrounded. The small, glowing lantern in your hand was the only thing illuminating the way. This was so stupid. How could you possibly have thought this was a good idea? For years, the elders in your village warned you. It has been ingrained in your head that the woods are the one place that needs to be avoided. At all costs. When your cat had run into the trees you didn't even think twice- following behind it frantically. Unfortunately, she had a good sense of direction and you didn't. Knowing her, she was probably back home already, complaining loudly to be let in.

Hours have passed by and you still haven't found the exit. The dense greenery surrounding you started blending together after a while, making every landmark that might help you escape imperceptible and utterly useless. Now, the sun had completely hidden away. Although you had thought to bring your lantern- thank god- the shadows swallowed up the last remaining fragments of illumination shining from your lamp. It's like the forest knew that there was a small bit of warmth and light left inside, and it was trying to put it out as soon as possible.

Of course, at this perfect moment, your stomach started growling- twisting painfully and nagging at you- begging for food. If the wolves didn't know you were here before, they certainly did now- courtesy of your noisy digestive system. Seriously? It just had to happen now of all times? Now more than ever, you're determined to find your way out. Squinting, you try to see what's up ahead but the only thing your eyes can discern is the silhouette of a few trees right in front of you. Everything else is lost to the abyss encircling you. After nearly slamming your face into the rough bark of a few trees, you try to use your other hand to feel the air in front of you. Now, instead of hitting the tree face first, you'll be able to feel your way around it. It doesn't work. It's only taking you deeper into the dense jungle.

Not even the moon aids in your journey- cloaking herself under the veil of obscurity. Is it even worth it to try and get back right now? A few hours of hunger won't kill you, maybe it'd be best to rest for now and try again when the morning arrives. Sleeping on the floor isn't an option, what if an animal comes by and tries to eat you? So with great effort, you manage to climb a relatively small tree nearby. Your white nightshirt had gotten caught in a few branches and ripped near the bottom hem. Why did you think this was a good idea again? Especially in pajamas. Sitting on a wide branch, you contemplate what you'll do next. Maybe you could sleep- though that could be dangerous. 

As you set the lantern down next to you, the candle trapped inside starts flickering vigorously. Oh no. Had you let it burn for too long? It had not failed you this entire time, why did it have to be now? You just put a new candlestick inside the lamp, it's not even halfway burnt and there's no wind. How?? Desperately, you put your arms around the lantern- protecting it from whatever breeze may be trying to put it out. After a few more minutes of you huddling around the fire, it goes out completely. Leaving you alone in the cold night.

Adjusting your eyesight to the darkness proves to be harder than you thought. You can't even see your own hand in front of you.

A gentle current of wind brushes over your skin. Shivering, you put your hands on the still-warm glass covering the candle. Was it always this cold? You hadn't noticed it before, but maybe with the light out, you were forced to feel the true environment around you. The heat radiating off your dim lamp was comforting, soothing your forlorn soul. Leaves rustle and owls coo softly around you. Goosebumps rise all over your arms and legs. The heat warming your fingers, was struggling to thaw the rest of your body- leaving your feet frigid and tingling.

This was so stupid. Thinking that you could possibly survive in the woods was terribly naive. Now, you can't even sit in peace. There's an awful sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your hairs stand on end, pricking you painfully. Sweat forms a thin layer, coating the surface of your skin underneath. Anxiously, your eyes dart around. It's difficult to see when your eyes haven't adjusted to the blackness.

A small giggle cuts through the tense stillness. What was that?? Your muscles seize up, letting go of the lantern and sitting up straight. In your haste, the lamp is pushed off the edge of the branch- falling down to the ground below and shattering into a million pieces.

“Fuck.”

This is just your luck. Not only were you stuck here, now you have no light or warmth, and there's some freak roaming around who probably heard the glass smashing. Your throat tightens, nails digging into the rough bark- you had to hide. There was no other choice. With no chance of escape, what else could you do? At least it sounded far away. It should take a few minutes before they get here, if they even want to. When you try to get down from the branch you are on, a large hand settles over your shoulder.

“Got you!”

Your arm and neck are overcome by an intense pressure, the hand curls, digging its sharp nails into your flesh. A snake feels like it's wrapped itself around your throat- constricting any sound or air that may escape your lungs. Moving your body is a fruitless endeavor. As soon as you try to get out, the grip tightens, stopping any action in its tracks.

“Uh-uh, I didn't say you could move.”

Cold calloused fingers thread themselves through your hair, tugging your head back. How did he even get here so fast? especially without you hearing. Could it be the monster your village had warned you about? As sharp fangs brushed over your exposed throat, your heartbeat speeds up. Oh no. It is him for sure. Your worst fears are realized- the vampire.

If only you had listened. Your cat probably would have been fine by herself anyways. Why did it have to be you? Did god hate you that much? Honestly, you thought the legend about Nikolai Gogol was an urban myth. You had never seen him yourself, and sometimes you would stay near the edge of the forest but nothing would happen. You should've known. Those disappearances were not a coincidence.

You don't get the chance to protest before serrated teeth sink into the soft flesh on your neck. Pain blooms all throughout your larynx, down to the tips of your fingers- painting your skin flowering reds and purples. Nikolai’s tongue laps up the sweet droplets that seep out of your twin wounds. Like it was a five star meal.

His cold solid chest presses against your back, arms caging you in. Your mouth dries, like it's filled with cotton. You blink rapidly, trying to rid your eyes of the tears that started to build up. He- no- It only found it more amusing. Chuckling, it unlatched itself from your neck, leaving behind a wet spot on your neck of saliva and blood. It was sure to stain.

“You're crying? I didn't think you'd be so weak.”

“Go to hell.”

Twisting over to face him, you plant your trembling hands on his torso. When did you become so shaky? Your muscles feel so weak and heavy… how? Ignoring the instability, you shove as hard as you can, but he doesn't budge. Your eyes- now starting to adjust to the low light- can make out his wide grin and glowing iris. He doesn't see you as a threat in the slightest. Without hesitation, he smacks you down against the branch. Like you were nothing more than an annoying bug. Your head bangs against the bark painfully, bouncing up slightly from the sheer force it went down with. A searing ache washes over the back of your head, extending out to the tips of your fingers. Forming proper thoughts is a struggle. Fear paralyzes you, rendering any plan your muddled brain could come up with pointless. Pulling firmly on your hair, he exposes your throat to him again. Your scalp burns but you can't find it in you to move.

“You tasted good before.. I think I need a little more.”

Nikolai's freezing lips make contact with the side of your neck, right by your jugular. A shiver runs down your spine, blood running cold. This is how you die. Would your friends miss you? What would have happened if you stayed home? Your belly would have been full with a nice, hearty, warm stew and you would have already been in bed, resting peacefully. God would not have forsaken you like this. Would not have left you to this monster- this devil. He was an abomination. Your throat spasms under the strain of his needle-like fangs piercing the surface of your skin. But for some reason, this time, it doesn't hurt. A sense of satisfaction sweeps across your body.

Embarrassingly, a small whiney squeal escapes your throat. You can feel his lips stretching wider- enjoying your dilemma. You shouldn't like this. It's wrong. He's a curse, a mistake. A monster who was abandoned by its own god. But the sparks of pleasure dancing down your spine makes it hard to resent him.

“You like this don't you?”

He detaches himself from your throat, slurping up the small drops that dribble out like he was starving. Up until now, you hadn't realized how lightheaded you felt. He definitely drank far too much. Heat flashes over you, your heart never felt so confused. On one hand, you could die at the hands of this man. He's already far too eager to drain you completely. But on the other hand, you couldn't escape anyways and it felt so… good.

Nikolai giggles, running his cold hand down your sternum. His thigh slots itself between your legs, pushing them apart. In this position, you can see his features much easier. He has a weird black and white costume on and a card eyepatch. The scar over his blue eyes is oddly attractive. Unconsciously, your fingers come up to graze over it. The skin is raised and smoother than the rest of his face. A soft shininess is evident on the reddened blemish.

“How did you get that?”

Maybe it was rude to ask, but your curiosity got the better of you.

“A tiny little fight, only a few hundred years ago.”

He says it so comfortably, like it's not absolutely insane.

“… Hundreds..?”

Eye widening, his lips purse into a little ‘o’.

“Oh no, I let it slip!”

The white haired man seems genuinely surprised at this point, almost disappointed in himself. His eyebrows furrowed together- hands pulling at his own hair. After slapping his own forehead a few times, he sits up straight. All distress is washed off his face, replaced with a wicked grin.

“Of course it's hundreds.. Do you humans not go to school? Do you even know what a vampire is? its vampire, vaam-piieee-eeerr.”

Okay that's just insulting. Your face heats up in embarrassment as you nudge his shoulder lightly.

“But you know… I guess that means you think I look young. I guess my 20 step skincare routine came in handy hehehe?”

Nikolai gets up closer, showing you his skin, dragging your fingers over his cheek.

“See? Feel.”

Soft skin makes contact with the tips of your fingers. He's ancient. Your mind drifts back to all those horrible legends. The rumors of him cutting his victims open cruelly, draining them completely, and bathing in their blood. You're not gonna let him think that acting in such a ruthless manner was working for him.

“You could use more moisturizer.”

He laughs sarcastically, face twisting like he's bitten into a lemon. A narrowed eye pierces into your soul. The air around you grows thicker, and it felt like something was pressing down into your chest.

“Ha ha. You shouldn't talk to me that way you know. I'm capable of horrors you couldn't even imagine. So behave. It's for your own good.”

Patting your cheek condescendingly, his lips spread into an ominous smirk. Your hands clench nervously- knuckles brushing against the rough bark underneath you. Was he going to kill you?

“Hehehe! Did I scare you??”

He bursts into boisterous chortles. Leaning in until his nose touches yours, he stares eerily- hot breath fans over your face, sending shivers down your spine.

“You're not funny…”

Grumbling, you turn away, looking at the bushel of branches and leaves beside you and all around. Frigid fingers dig into your cheek sadistically, making you look back at the vampire hovering over you.

“Look at me.”

His leering gaze travels up and down your body, taking in the ripped pajamas and exposed skin. It leaves you feeling dirty. Carefully, he lets go of your cheeks. his big hands go down to rest beside your head- holding his weight up as his body settles itself between your legs.

“… You're kind of pretty for a human.”

Pointed nails catch on your nightshirt- snagging the fabric on his way down your sides. A trail of fire rushes his touch. Your breathing picks up, from this place on your back, you can see the way his pupil dilates, how he keeps licking his lips. Like he wants to devour you whole. Electricity surges between you when he makes eye contact. His fangs are still out, hanging over his bottom lip- a small part of you wishes he would sink his fangs in your neck and drink more.

For a moment, you forget where you are. Time trickles by slowly, weighing down all your movements with its dense pressure. Your heart pounds in your chest, pumping the blood through your veins so vigorously your limbs are wobbling. His eye darts down to your lips before glancing back up again- you don't even notice when he leans closer. 

A muscular arm slides around your waist, pulling your body against his big one. Nikolai does not wait any longer before slanting forward and pressing his lips against yours. His tongue is hot against yours, nibbling on your bottom lip lightly- he deepens the kiss when you gasp, teeth clashing against yours. Your hands travel up his suit, clutching onto the lapels of his jacket and pulling him closer. As the flavor of iron fills your mouth, he lets out a deep groan- pressing his hips against yours.

“Fuck.. I can't hold back any more.”

The white haired man only pulls away for a few seconds before diving right back in. But this time he doesn't go in for a kiss, instead nosing at your windpipe, longing to bury his canines in your flesh. A small whine threatens to escape- your head tilts bare your throat for him. Impatiently, your hands lurch forward, trying to hold him still. You can't let yourself enjoy it. It would ruin you.

“Ah-ah. I didn't say you could touch.”

Nikolai seizes your wrists in his hold, pinning them down against the rough branch under you. They were sure to have colorful bruises and gashes painted across your skin tomorrow. His voice is cold, freezing you in your place. Fierce warmth fills you up. Squirming uncomfortably, you find it hard to breathe. It's hot. Too hot. The nightshirt is suffocating your skin, making you feel itchy. Your body is begging you to rip the stupid fabric off- to obtain at least some level of relief.

“Y-you're too slow.”

His hands are frigid. You can recognize them working on pulling you free of your pajamas, soothing your boiling form beneath him. Your body jerks, frantically helping him. When he finally manages to wretch it off you, he tosses it away, watching as it descends down, fluttering in the gentle wind. Your brain is clouded in pleasure, torso arching into his touch as he presses searing kisses down your sternum. He leaves small nips here and there- enjoying the way your body shivers, the way blood rushes to the surface and stains your skin pretty colors.

“H-hurry I need-”

His nails bite into your sides. He tsks, scolding you.

“Shut up. I know what you need.”

Something in your head buzzes- keening as Nikolai drags his canines over your nipple, refusing to commit, refusing to finally bite. He's being so mean. You squirm, pushing up into him, desperate for more. Icy fingers smooth over your exposed lower tummy, forcing your back against the tree holding you up.

“Poor thing..”

An explosion of electricity tumbles over you when he pierces your nipple with his pointy fangs. You choke on your own breath, staggering as a pitchy wail streams out of your lungs. His tongue eagerly sucks and licks at the little nub. It feels like your nerves are on fire, raw and severed. Dark red stains the corners of his mouth, lips shiny and slick with spit.

A series of kisses are left down your torso. Saliva and blood mark the spots Nikolai embraced. Like a proof of ownership. Claiming you as his. His teeth tug at the edge of your underwear, pulling them off you slowly, hands pushing your legs apart and slipping between them. The air nips at your skin, forming goosebumps up your exposed frame. A violent shudder wracks your body, pelvis twitching down to roll against his.

“Fuck this, i cant wait any more.”

Ridding himself of his pants, he drags his pointy nails up your thigh relentlessly. They’re like knives, cutting you open and watching the sweet liquid rush out. It drips slowly, fighting against gravity pulling it down. Pushing your thigh up against your chest, Nikolai spits into his hand, and wraps his slick fingers around himself. The blood drizzles down onto your chest, leaving small red beads of fluid on your torso.

The blunt head of his cock bumps against your entrance, slowly nudging itself inside. It burns- stretching you open, forcing your body to adjust to him. You moan weakly, hands finding purchase in the muscles on his back. Your veins pulse with want- need. A distressed sob traps itself in your chest, your body spasms in an attempt to keep down the embarrassing sound.

“Nghh.. N-Nikolai…”

Your tongue feels too big in your mouth, stiff and struggling to form the proper shape necessary for speech. Nikolai coos softly, angling his hips until the tip of his cock nudges against your sweet spot. A low mewl bubbles in your throat.

“Shhh… I know I know.”

You're so full, he's hot and throbbing inside of you, pushing in until his pelvis is pressed against your ass. Tears form in the corner of your eyes, blurring your vision of the man above you. As his lips draw back and slam back in, your back is dragged against the rough surface of the tree under you. You cry out weakly, sweat beading down your forehead. His hips roll into you deliciously- punching the air out of your lungs, lighting your veins on fire.

Brain clouded with lust, your arms shakily wrap around his shoulders. He leans down, tongue lapping at the little drops of blood that had gotten on your chest, moaning softly.

“So good.. You taste so good.”

The head of his cock crashes against your sweet spot, scattering violent jolts of static through your body, fogging your thoughts. The brutal pace makes his pelvis strike against the flesh of your ass. Carving out a space for himself inside you.

Your body is overloaded by sensation, body sticky and blistering. The heat sinks from the surface of your skin to your core, pooling and forming a boiling hot spring- threatening to burst out like a geyser. Your ears are numbed. Your legs are trembling, muscles struggling to hold themselves together. Nikolai can feel you clenching around him, sucking him in hungrily, like you'd die if he left your clutches. He groans, nuzzling at the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“I just- hah- want to drain you.”

His needle-like canines scratch over your neck. Hips slam against you brutally, driving his cock into your sensitive spot. Your mind is blissfully empty, focusing only on the pleasure he brings you, submissively baring your throat for him. Unintelligible babbles burst out of your lungs.

“P-please… mmmnng..”

Nikolai’s sharp fangs bury themselves in the junction of your shoulder and neck. White hot pleasure flows through your veins, stealing the breath from your lungs, bursting the knot that was forming in the bottom of your stomach. Waves of satisfaction roll over your body, quenching the burning heat that had engulfed your body for so long. He growls lowly, releasing hot spurts into you. Your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, struggling to hold onto your lucidity. Red liquid drips down your neck as drool pools in the corners of your mouth.

It sounds like white noise is playing inside your eardrums as time moves in slow motion. One second you're staring up at the man above you blankly, and the next you're fully clothed again in a luxurious bed. Where was this? You couldn't even move to look around- your body was so weak and sore from the night before that sitting up was a significant struggle. Your eyes flutter closed, body turning to bury itself further into the soft sheets. The bruises and scratches littering your figure left a painful reminder of what had taken place. Of him. As your body starts to relax and fall into a restful slumber, your brain barely manages to make out the sound of a mischievous giggle from outside the room.

[diacripticcomplex]

Can I request a yandere ayato x yui please? It doesn’t have to be a smut fic but if it is I’m fine either way, thanks (love your writing btw)

Ayato's POV:

I can't think or eat normally, staying away from her might be the only guarantee for her safety. She keeps on trying and trying to get my attention, putting herself in dangerous situations on purpose, she knows that shit pisses me off. All I can think of is her, her deep velvet eyes and the sadness she bears, her creamy skin that I taint with my fangs and her sweet hot blood that quenches my thirst. I know that if this continues I will end up killing her, if she did not mean anything to me I would not give a shit but she means the world to me, I want to slaughter anyone who gets in our way. These bastard Mukami assholes, my brothers, my uncle I dont care..they should all just drop dead, every human ballsack looking guy should die too...she belongs to me, and only me, no one will have her but me. Fuck! Ha, I think I am going insane, I never wanted it to get this bad. I don't want to leave her alone, I want her next to me at all times but I might actually kill her if that is the case..the thought of not being by her side at all times that shit doesn't sit right with me, I don't like the idea of her interacting with anyone but me..

That night, I took a bunch of percs, after thinking it through I decided to slaughter everyone in our path, I started with my lurking Uncle Richter, his presence only made matters worse but killing him was the most challenging, I tore him to pieces limb by limb, then I hurried over to those Mukami bastards, I sniffed 3 lines of cocaine before torturing the those subbreed bastards. Azusa and Kou were easy to kill, I didn't waste my time torturing them, but Ruki's death was to be slow, I wanted to enjoy his agony, cutting out his tongue so I don't have to hear his annoying voice, perhaps I'll cook his tongue and feed it to her..after a few hours of torturing him in front of Yuma I slice his throat and decapitated his head, as well as the other Mukami brothers, I wanted to take their heads and put them on spikes as decorations around the manor, a warning to my brothers, who indeed were next.

After a few more lines of cocaine I was in a frenzy, I decorated the manor gates with their heads. I went back into the manor, she was standing there in horror. "What have you done..!?" she asks in panic and worry, tears in her eyes as she looks away from the sight. I grab her face and make her look at it. "They were in the way, anyone who gets in my way will meet the same fate." I tell her, smiling like a madman probably, she gives me a look of fear, that look does it for me, I kiss her, she resists the kiss, so I pull away and whisper to her "you're not content until they are all gone right? Don't worry, I'll make your wish come true." I told her, my eyes were gleaming into her, that cocaine had me jittery. "No no I dont want anyone else to die.." she makes her pleas, pretending to be this good human and all that crap. "Make no mistake, if I wasn't here these bastards would do as they wish with you, you want that?" I ask her, gripping onto her shoulder blades, she shakes her head then continues to try and defend them I heard enough come from her mouth, I bite her lips, sucking the blood from there until they turn all purple, she passes out after a few moments so I take her into my room and lock her in there, she will wake up to a lovely present.

I took a few more percs, and sniffed the remaining cocaine I had, killing Shu, Reiji and Subaru would be more of a challenge, Laito would expect this and Kanato would be a bitch about it, I'll kill Laito and Kanato quickly, we shared a womb I have to make it a clean and swift death for them. “Ah Ayato, you’ve come to kill me, you’re getting a bit mes-“ Laito began to say but I sliced his head off, Kanato as well, I took their bodies outside and set it a blaze, the fire crackled loudly, this caused Reiji to come out. “Ayato have you lost your mind?!” He went on, I shoved my fingers deep into his eye sockets and tore out his eyeballs, crushing them in my hand, then I pushed Reiji into the fire. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. “..what the fuck have you done..?!” Shu, lazy dull bastard commented, “ha, shu aren’t you scared of fire? I’ll rip your heart out instead” I tell him and yank it out his chest then throw his heart into the fire, his body goes limb and he falls, I burn him too, all that was left was Subaru. He must be hiding.

I began searching the mansion, I made a turn from my room and saw Subaru holding his dagger up to her throat. “Ayato you’ve gone insane, try to kill me and I’ll kill her” he says pressing his dagger to her skin, something in me jolted, I was mad with bloodlust, I did not think, I simply snatched Yui and had her in my grasp now. “She’s mine! Ill fucking kill you, don’t ever touch her again.” I state, I tear off her clothes right in front of Subaru, and start groping her breasts, she tries to cover herself, I grip her wrists so tightly it felt as if her blood circulation would stop, I force my way into her, one hand on her neck, my member deeply in her, she cried and protested the entire time but I wanted Subaru to understand, that I will kill to get what I want, and she is what I want.