#“Look Death. I caught a Mimic”

[radiant-featherball]

(Castlevaina: Dawn Of Sorrow (Double Jump Official Strategy Guide)

[About Crimson Stone and Ebony Stone] 夜の王への野望を持つ者にこれ以上の宝は無い "There are no greater treasures for those who aim to be King of the Night"

"Mathias goes into hiding in foreign lands and continues to curse God for eternity. Eventually, he names himself Lord of the Vampires, King of the Night."

行方をくらましたマティアスは　人知れぬ地で永遠に神を呪い続けるが　ある事件をきっかけに　自らを悪魔と名乗り　魔王と呼ばれる存在となる "Mathias disappeared and in unknown lands continues to curse God for eternity. However due to an incident he names himself the devil and becomes an existence called the Dark Lord." (LoI credits)

"He used Leon, Rinaldo, Sara, and even Walter and his monsters, and using the Crimson Stone and a vampire's soul, he was reborn. Later, he named himself Dracula from "dracul" a word meaning dragon and devil." (LoI:Perfect Guide)

“Dracula became a vampire after the death of his first wife, later he met the human Lisa. He temporary regained his humanity. But because she was executed due to a witch trial, he became a Dark Lord with thirst for vengeance against humans.” (Encyclopedia of Castlevania)

"That master refers to Dracula? Or the swirling chaos underneath thin ice?” “The same… Dracula’s name has no individual. A person that can shoulder the call of chaos is appropriate to continue Dracula’s name--- The one that inherits his name and power as the lord of this entire castle, will forever be my master.” (Olrox and Death, Kabuchi no Tsuisoukyoku)

"It all starts with my father calling himself Dracula, the Dark King, and committing genocide in and around Wallachia." (Grimoire of Souls)

"…事の発端は、父が魔王ドラキュラを名乗り、領地のワラキアで始めた人間の大虐殺だ。" (JP translation of the line just for fun)

~~~

According to EoC and LoI credits (JP) Dracula becomes Dark Lord in response to Lisa's death, rest of the quotes is more vague other than anytime after LoI.

Crimson stone and Ebony stone were talked about together, so I would assume Ebony also can change the owner into the Dark Lord. Though Death is said to serve whoever has the Crimson stone and no mention of the Ebony stone, but he also serve whoever is the Dark Lord. So maybe Crimson is special in that regard.

Funny. Some of the phrasings sounds like Dracula only called himself that after Lisa's death, though when Isaac arrived to the castle Dracula was already known by that name so that obviously not the case.

[unfriendly-aesop]

people were having trouble reading the names + i redid the opportunist's head

DESIGN PROCESS UNDER THE CUT

broken: given the shortest, smallest frame and the smallest wings; he is meant to appear small and delicate. his eyes are sullen but not despairing. his wings are small because he knows he will not fly away. his feathers drape down like a cloak, reminiscent of a priest's robes. he is done in the brightest colours to emulate the tower. his hands are clasped around the blade and held at his chest and throat to display his broken spirit.

hunted: given a scrappy, almost tattered look to give the imagery of a bird who has been caught over, and over again; but never killed. his feathers are dull greens to emulate leaves. there is a second, long feather in his tufts to emulate an ear canal like a rabbit, and he is the only design given none-front facing eyes. he is prey, and he knows it. his hands are covering his heart, protectively.

contrarian: given a rounded, friendly look. his feathers are formed to mimic a jester's cowl and puffy pants. the tufts of white feathers at the tip of his tufts are meant to mimic pompoms. his legs are rounded like a bird's at the ankles to give the impression of jester's shoes. his eyes are large and expressive, and his colours are some of the brightest like his personality. his hands are at his cheeks, almost giddy and giggling.

stubborn: one of the tallest, with squared off and rugged shape language. he has some of the thickest, and longest arms for fighting. his feathers are shaped to mimic a gentleman pugilist. one of his ear tufts is shorter than the other, and the other is tattered. his fists are ready for a fight. he's bulky to mimic the Adversary.

cold: he is small, but not because he is delicate or vulnerable. he has won, and finished his job. he has no wings, nor many visible features; he is very resigned. he mimics the look of plague doctors and ravens the most closely to emulate his association with death. he most closely emulates the Drowned Grey.

paranoid: one of the tallest, and streamlined designs. with white, skeletal patterns to mimic the Nightmare's mask and gloves. his ear tufts are down, and frightened, and his wings are raised to shroud himself away from the world. they are the largest; he wants to flee, and could, easily.

skeptic: his feathers are puffed out, and shaped to be like armour, or an executioner's garb (to parallel the Prisoner); he trusts nothing in the world. his ear tufts are made to mimic the shape of question-marks. his patterns are black-and-white; just like his thoughts on his surroundings. he has several eyes because he has several perspectives.

cheated: his feathers are shaped to be that of a medieval thief. his wings are puffed up and thrown out indignance, along with his hands and expression. his sharp, white feathers are meant to mimic the razor.

smitten: small but with a large personality. his mask is meant to mimic a heart, along with his chest plumage. his colours are some of the warmest, and brightest. his eyes are large and expressive. his ear tufts are meant to mimic the Burning Grey. his wings are large, but not for flight; but for display.

hero: thats you! the baseline

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Troublemakers

masterlist

pairing: regulus black x female reader

warnings: cursing, fluff, mr no nose

summary: you and reggie being the entertainment in voldemorts cult

a/n: this was funnier in my head, i kinda butchered the idea but oh well, hope you enjoy it !

song: mind mischief - tame impala

You and Regulus were at a Death Eater meeting. You sat next to each other, as always.

Your hands were under the table as the two of you played rock, paper, scissors.

Lucius was next to you and he watched you hit your thigh, annoyed when you lost.

Voldemort hits his wand on the table twice, waiting for you two to stop.

Caught up in the game, since you had gotten four ties in a row, you both hadn't heard him.

It wasn't until you felt both your heads being slapped in the back did you realize the Dark Lord was waiting on you two.

"If you two are done with your filthy muggle game, I was just about to mention..."

You and Regulus rested your heads on the table, eyes fluttering shut as you two tune out the boring voice of Voldemort.

You were soon awoken by a bang on the table.

"I hope you two enjoyed your beauty sleep," he glares.

"We did," you and Regulus say in union, then high five each other

You glance around the room and notice that everyone else has already gone.

"You two can be excused from this behavior if you teach me how to play that game, but you two mustn't tell a single soul," Voldemort whispers.

You look at each other, a grin making its way to both your faces. You glance back at Voldemort before nodding your heads.

This was the second meeting this week.

You two had been arguing about random stuff, getting things thrown at the two of you as you ran around shouting at one another.

You were sitting at the meeting, thinking about things that you are better at than Reg.

You suddenly feel a tug on your hair.

"The hell?"

"What?" Regulus shrugs. You turn your head back to the people at the table, but you feel another tug.

"Can you fucking not," you whisper harshly.

"Can you fucking not," he mimics you in a high pitch voice.

You kick his leg with your heel and he lets out a hiss of pain.

Voldemort slaps his hands onto the table, making you both jump.

"Stop this foolishness, now," he orders you two.

"Not until you get a manicure," you roll your eyes and cross your arms.

"I'm sorry?" Voldemort asks as Regulus covers his laugh with his hand.

"A manicure, you know... to fix your nails," you say as you look at the people around the table. Most of them are either scared for you, or just shaking their heads.

You feel another tug on your hair, this time harder.

"Ow! Regulus, what the fuck," you hold your head.

"Enough!" Voldemort shouts.

"He's just mad he has no hair for someone to pull," Reggie whispers in your ear.

"Make one more comment on the topic of my baldness-"

Sat next to Regulus, you two were gossiping about the Death Eaters.

Not everything you were discussing was true, but they were things you heard.

For example, Regulus heard some muggleborn girls laughing about how Lucius looks like something they call a "Barbie".

After you two found out what it was, you couldn't get that picture out of your head.

You two giggling like children while pointing at Lucius and whispering to each other.

"Are you both done laughing at me," Lucius stares at you both with a bored face.

"Whatever do you mean, Lucy."

"First, don't call me that. Second, you know exactly what I mean!"

"We really don't."

"Fine," you huff, "we were just comparing your looks you a Barbie Doll," you explain.

"A what?" Voldemort and Lucius asks.

"Let me show you," you take out your wand and conjure a Barbie.

Regulus takes it and holds it out to them.

To everyone's surprise, Voldemort himself starts laughing.

He points his finger back and for between the doll and Lucius as he laughs.

"You guys are right! He does indeed look like Barbara!"

"Barbie."

"Same thing."

"Not you too, My Lord," Lucious runs a hand over his face.

"Who the fuck did this!"

"Uh, oh," you and Reg sigh. You figured that after the conversation with hair at one of the recent meetings, Voldemort would want some.

But you two decided that was too nice for your liking. So you decided on clown hair.

Voldemort comes rushing into the living room, where everyone was on the couches.

Gasps of horror filled the room as people stared at the bright rainbow hair.

"You two," Voldemort snarls.

"You," you both grin.

"What have you done to my head!"

"We thought you could use some hair," you smile innocently at him.

"You call this rubbish hair?!"

"Hey! We think it suits you!" Regulus exclaims as you nod in agreement.

"Get it off of me, this instant!"

"Hmm-"

"Now!"

"Hmmm…"

He starts speed walking to you, you two tried so hard not to laugh at the sight, that your eyes started watering.

He is almost where you guys are sat when you two stand up and start sprinting out of the room.

"Gotta go!" Reg shouts as you rush out into the hall.

"GET BACK HERE! REGULUS! Y/N!"

[kiwioala]

documents bagi found in the fed lab!

I feel so sick from seeing all these bodies... First our colleagues and now this?? I need to take some time boss, I'll be back later. Maybe...

2 pictures, both from etoiles fight:

diagram regarding mimicubes and mimic octopus:

The bouncing block of slime is capable of copying the equipment of its enemies, the different things they can copy are: weapons (not only applying on hit effects but also enchantments), shields (being able to block projectile weapons like bows and crossbows), and totems to prevent their own death. Their goo is also known to be able to be used to copy a piece of equipment to the last detail regardless of what material or enchantments it has. It's ability seems to be an evolved version of that of a mimic octopus, the mimic octopus would copy the behavior and looks of other animals for both hunting and self defense. But it seems the mimic cube can copy other materials to the very last details, including pieces of equipment.

diagram regarding lobsters:

These little creatures have incredible abilities, including but not limited to being able to smell and taste the water with their "nose" to hunt their prey, their claws are also a unique barb that allows them to hunt for fish.

IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT WE ESCALATE THIS MATTER TO UPPER MANAGEMENT -> They won't stop growing and won't stop molting throughout with their life, it is considered that they could live forever, if it wasn't bc of the energy needed to molt that they eventually (at 100 years,) won't have

They also can come in different colors, depending on amount and distribution of pigments, being able to be other colors, including: orange, blue, yellow, white, black, and some with special names, like the split halloween colored (black and red) red-blue split colored and cotton candy (pinkish white)

diagram regarding cosmaws:

A once believed extinct species, these flying creatures will attack any player that hits it, biting back with its protocesis, it also uses it to hunt its main pray, the cosmic cod, which can be used to tame them.

While they will not protect their owner in a fight, they serve a different purpose to exploration, whenever their owner is about to fall to the void, the cosmaw will run for it and try to catch it so it doesn't fall into said void.

"Cosmic Cod are fish that can be found in the void between end islands. [...] They float through the ether of The End in decently-sized schools. If one fish in the school is attacked; the entire school of fish will attempt to teleport away as soon as possible. [...] Cosmic Cod can also be caught in an empty bucket." -Animal Dictionary

diagram regarding code status and behavior:

book found in drawer:

more code writing:

010 010 00 0100 0101 01001100 1010 00 00 which translates to "HELP"

lab reports:

[REPORT] Given the recent events at the laboratory, including the intrusion, code breaches, injuries, fatalities among our workers, and the peculiar attack by unfamiliar individuals, we have made the decision to relocate. The place isn't the secured area it used to be, we have reasons to think that several factions with different goals have found its location, therefore we need to find a new place to pursue our researches We have to protect our informations and hide our goals, we cannot let anyone see our research. All the content of our research is now way less valuable since it has been seen and might also have been copied. The next laboratory needs to have a way more secured system, cameras, and lockdown system.

[REPORT] All entities have been transported or terminated, the documents should follow.

[REPORT] It seems like the one eyed creature has been correctly relocated.

misc. clipboards:

CLIPBOARD 1: 1: Heyy, are u having a good day?? 2: No. 1: Oh. sorry about that, what's going on?? 2: Work. 1: O.o

CLIPBOARD 2: • Terminate the subject.

CLIPBOARD 3: • Check for vitals • Check for updates • Check for infection • Check for development

CLIPBOARD 4: • No report has been conclusive yet.

CLIPBOARD 5: • Reports still have to be finalized. • Night shift has to be adjusted as the code changed it's rhythm yet again.

CLIPBOARD 6: • Has been calm over the last fourteen hours. • The current frequency can't be read, we need to order new equipment.

[chiikasevennn]

Hi, sir, could you please split me open?

Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader

A/N: I NEED HIM URGRHRHRBRBRBR 😞😞😞😞. This is just very short, like tiny short

Warning(s): suggestive, NOT PROOFREAD, ooc maybe idk (i only write for fun BC WHY DOES THIS MAN HAVE SMALL AMOUNT OF WRITERS)

Your heart throbbed rapidly as you glanced at Jinwoo. His hands occupied your mind incessantly. A flood of excitement embraced you entirely as you studied your boyfriend for no particular reason.

Gods—his knuckles were protruding slightly, adding his well-known character and strength. Whenever he stretched those long fingers out, you couldn't help but deem it gracefully. Those were the hands of Jinwoo, hands that possessed the ability to convey emotions through gestures, from tender caresses to authoritative commands.

But those were also the hands of a man who liked to hold you, that touched you everywhere, which offered reassurance, comfort, and love. His veins meandering beneath the surface, hinting at a life of movement and vitality.

The softness of your gaze caught Jinwoo's attention. You appeared oblivious as he tracked your eyes, which landed on his hands.

Why's she looking at it? He smiled at you looking quite a bit smitten with him.

Ah, you were going to be the death of him.

Jinwoo's smile stretched just a bit. He began to lift his left hand to his eyes—and true to form, your eyes followed his hand's path.

When your eyes finally settled on him, he pulled away his hand and offered you that sweet, serene smile.

You were convinced something brushed against your neck, but you responded with a smile, understanding it as the unavoidable Jinwoo effect taking hold.

"What?" He asked. "You like my hands that much?"

"Your hands are… soft to look at." You remarked. "But nothing will top your hair though."

You got up from the couch and approached to sit beside him. Seeing his attention on you, you grasped his hands and pressed yours onto his.

You smiled softly. Jinwoo swore he'd never seen anything so beautiful, beyond comparison.

He looked at your tender hands pressed into his palm. Yours seemed dainty in comparison to his. Widening your smile, you lined up the tips of your fingers with his and extended them outwards, prompting his fingers to mimic yours.

You chuckled. You couldn't help it.

"This doesn't look like the explicit hands that split me open last night."

Red flooded Jinwoo's cheeks up to his ears as he felt every chill slithering through his body. He groaned and as if instinctively enveloped your hands with his through the gaps between your fingers.

"Don't, before I do that again."

I smiled mischievously. "Why not? I'd like to see at least four of them tear me open."

Jinwoo's entire face went redder.

[toournextadventure]

movie nights iv

Summary: You gather the Woodsboro survivors to go over your suspect list. Maybe you're just trying to impress Tara. That's for you to know and no one else to find out.

Word Count: 6.1K Warnings: swearing, Scream levels of violence Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (pt.i) (pt.ii) (pt.iii) (pt.iv) (pt.v) (pt.vi) (pt.vii) (pt.viii)

The door was open. It was wide open, all that rat bastard had to do was walk right through it so you could kill him yourself. No fire escape, no hideaway, only the door. Why hadn't he walked through the goddamn-

"-You're not listening to me."

You blinked once before looking back over to your Aunt Sherry. By some miracle - it was still unclear if it was a good miracle or not - she had been the paramedic on scene. She hadn't truly questioned you yet, but you knew it was bound to happen. Your family was nothing if not nosy.

"What did you say?" You asked, fighting against the natural slip of an accent that would mimic Aunt Sherry's perfectly.

She gave you a pity-filled look. "Did he get ya anywhere else?"

"No," you instantly replied with a shake of your head. "That's it."

"Then you're all set," she said as she went to pat your shoulder. Thankfully she caught herself in time and patted your back instead. "And you don't want to go to Mercy?"

"Absolutely not," you mumbled as you hopped out of the back of the ambulance. "And don't tell Ma or Pop!"

"It's already on the news, kiddo," she said with a shrug. "If they know, they know."

"You're good for nothing," you shouted as you backpedaled to where Tara and her bunch were still standing. "See ya at mass."

Aunt Sherry waved at you and shook her head, but otherwise let you go. You looked down at the stitches now keeping your bicep together. Only five; it could've been much worse. If that was the bastard you were up against, he wouldn't be much of a challenge. Couldn't even swing a knife properly. Talk about pathetic.

You mouthed a “hey” at Tara when you finally got closer. It was cold now that the adrenaline was wearing off and you were finally feeling the cold autumn air. Would have been nice to have some sort of jacket. Or your shirt that Tara was still wearing. Well, you supposed everyone could enjoy seeing you half-naked. You would just freeze to death, it was fine.

“You okay?” Tara asked quietly, her eyes darting to the stitched up wound.

“Course I am, sweetheart,” you said with a shrug. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was starting to sting like a sonofabitch.

“Are you hurt?” Sam asked, and both you and Tara turned to look at her. If you were cold before, you were frozen under her icy stare.

“I mean… I’ve been worse,” you said as you did your best to avoid her gaze.

“Good,” she said. You didn’t have time to brace yourself before she slapped your uninjured arm. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Ouch!” You complained. “The hell are you getting mad at me for?”

“I told you to stay away from my sister,” Sam continued. “You could have gotten her killed.”

“You think I called your stupid little serial killer?” You asked; you could feel the accent coming back in full force. All it did was make you more frustrated. “Isn’t he supposed to call me?”

“Guys-”

“-Nothing happened until you got Tara alone,” she interrupted Danny. “And that’s just a coincidence?”

You scrunched your face up and shrugged your shoulders. “Yes?” You said. “Why would I want anything to do with your psycho killer?”

“Hey, that’s enough,” Tara said, moving to hold Sam’s arm.

It didn’t stop her. “We were doing just fine until you came along.” Sam jabbed her finger into your chest.

“You really think the two ‘a youse were doin’ fine?” You asked. “You’re trust issues and repressed trauma in human form.”

“Hey,” Tara scolded, her eyes now on you.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I’m right,” you said, holding your hands up in mock surrender. “And you can be suspicious all you want, but why the fuck would I interrupt myself finally gettin’ laid for the first time in months?”

“Oh my god,” Tara whispered to herself as she turned her back to you.

“I have priorities too,” you defended.

“Fine,” Sam said quickly. “If I say I believe you, will you please shut up?”

“Yes,” you said.

You all finally fell silent, Sam still giving you a look that meant she did not believe you, but at least she had stopped arguing. Danny was giving you that stupid “I’m not mad, just disappointed” look, and Tara still wouldn’t face you. What was going on in the world? You were just supposed to get laid, you weren’t supposed to be dealing with… whatever the fuck all of this was.

“So,” you finally said as police continued to mill around you. “What do you guys normally do now?”

“Seriously?” Tara asked, finally turning back to look at you.

“I’m no Ghostface expert,” you said defensively, again. “Do we just… go on as normal?” A chorus of groans followed your question. “Because I still need to go clean up the kitchen.”

“I do too,” Danny said, looking at Sam for a moment before turning back to you.

Unfortunately for him, Tara noticed and she stood up straighter.

“What was my sister doing in your apartment anyway?” She asked him. His mouth flopped open and closed like a fish out of water.

“Oh how the tables have turned,” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest and cocked your hip. “About damn time.”

“I was helping him carry up groceries,” Sam said with a slight shake of her head.

“Oh, so you can go into a stranger’s apartment and I can’t even have someone I know over?” Tara asked.

“Okay, hang on,” you said, somehow turning into the middle man. This whole night was turning into a disaster. You needed a drink. Or five.

“No, she doesn’t get to accuse you when she’s acting suspicious,” Tara said with a shake of her head before looking at Sam and Danny again. “So do you know him or not?”

“Tara-”

“-no, Sam,” she interrupted. “What is he to you?”

You locked eyes with Danny at the same time Tara and Sam locked eyes. Part of you wanted to just break the awkward tension and say Danny was with Sam. It would get Tara off his back and you could all go about the real problem; finally getting you back into a shirt so you wouldn’t freeze your tits off.

Sam sighed. “He and I are… a thing.”

“I knew it,” Tara said softly.

“Tara-”

“-I would’ve been happy for you,” she said. “If you hadn’t accused my partner of being Ghostface.”

“I’m your partner now?” You asked, perking up immediately.

“Shut up,” she said quickly.

“Yes ma’am,” you said, snapping your jaw shut. God you loved when she was mean.

“If I may-”

“-You may not,” Tara said, turning to face Danny. “I don’t want to hear from any of you right now.”

“How about from me?”

All four of you shut your mouths and looked around, finally seeing Detective Bailey walking toward your little group. You sighed and looked around. The last person you wanted to see at the moment was him. Well, okay, the last person you wanted to see was Ghostface, but Detective Bailey was a very close second.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” He asked, clapping you on the shoulder of your hurt arm. Oh fuck it hurt.

“Always a pleasure, Detective,” you said politely through a forced smile.

“You sound just like your old man,” he said.

“Bet I do,” you mumbled as you turned your head away.

“I’m going to need the two of you to come down for a talk,” Bailey said, pointing to you and Tara.

“Not us?” Danny asked.

“I’m coming too,” Sam said without waiting for Bailey to answer.

“You’ll be waiting in a separate room,” Bailey said. You didn’t blame him for not even arguing; if anyone knew Sam, they knew to just roll with the punches. “Come on.”

You followed him, Tara quick behind you. With a glance, you saw Danny and Sam talking for a moment before he backed away toward the apartment. She, on the other hand, caught up in only a few strides and forced herself in between you and Tara. If it hadn’t been for the whole just-nearly-getting-murdered thing, you would’ve teased her about her territorial tendencies.

“Don’t put me back there with her,” you said quietly when Bailey tried to put you in the back of the squad car. Right beside Sam. “She’s not my biggest fan.”

“Neither am I,” he said with a smile before pushing your head down and shoving you into the car. “Get in.”

You practically fell into the car, your knees banging against the front seat. It was still cold as hell and now your arm was strained. A quick glance down showed a few little spots of blood. Great. Now that was split again too. Why couldn’t anyone just let you grab some clothes?

The entire ride to the station you could feel Sam’s gaze on you. No, not a gaze, it was a full-blown glare. If you had died in that apartment, you didn’t think she would’ve been too upset about the fact. And Tara was being diplomatic and keeping her mouth shut, looking out the window as the city passed by. It was smart.

“So,” you started, “did you and Danny have a nice night?”

“Shut up,” Sam mumbled.

“Okay,” you said quickly.

Well, at least no one could say you didn’t try.

It was a short drive to the station, and you felt like you were going to combust under Sam’s eyes. The scrutiny didn’t stop when you pulled into the station, and it certainly didn’t stop when you walked in. If looks could kill? Yeah, it was a real thing. It might not kill, but it definitely made you want to die.

“Hey, Y/N,” Linda at reception said when you walked in.

“Hey, babe,” you said with a wink, walking over to lean on the desk. “How’re the little rascals?”

“They’re good,” she said, leaning forward on her arms. “Found you a girl yet?”

“Think so,” you said, fully putting on the charm. “Right over there,” you gestured your head behind you.

“I’m guessin’ it’s not the one givin’ you the “eat shit and die” look?”

You both turned your head to look at Sam, who had now crossed her arms over her chest. Tara wasn’t even trying to stop her; you didn’t blame her. Samantha Carpenter was a force of nature that no one wanted to fight against. Tara had probably learned that after the first Ghostface attack in Woodsboro.

“Good guess,” you mumbled.

“Keep moving,” Bailey said as he walked past you with Tara and Sam hot on his heels.

“We’ll catch up another time,” you said, sending Linda a wink and smile.

“Countin’ on it,” she replied before blowing a kiss in your direction.

Your brother was going to kill you for flirting with his wife.

It was a familiar walk back to Bailey’s interrogation room. While Sam was directed to a separate room, you walked in ahead of Tara and sat down in the seat that you had secretly designated as your own. At the rate you frequented, you might as well just carve your name into the wood. Just so Bailey would always have a reminder of you whether he wanted it or not.

“Here,” he said when he walked in and threw something at you. You flinched, but caught it. “Put that on.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you pulled the NYPD shirt over your head. You sneezed. “Sorry,” you said when you wiped your nose. “I’m allergic to pigs.”

“Stop,” Tara whispered to you.

“What can you tell me about tonight?” He asked, completely ignoring your comment.

“We were just having dinner and watching a movie,” you said with a shrug. “Bada bing, bada boom, little rat bastard interrupts.”

“Did you find him?” Tara asked. Why was everyone ignoring you? You were the one with the injuries, right? Shouldn’t you have more of a say than anyone else? Maybe you had a lot more to learn about this whole Ghostface thing than you had thought.

“We didn’t find anything,” Bailey said with a shrug. “Got anyone who has it out for you?”

They both turned to look at you after the question had been voiced. You looked between the both of them. Oh for fuck’s sake, now it was just getting insulting. There was no winning for you, was there? First you’re interrupted, then you’re attacked, then interrogated by not only Sam but now Bailey too? Well, fuck you, you guessed.

“Why are the two ‘a youse looking at me?” You asked. “I stay out of trouble.”

They both gave you exasperated looks.

“I mostly stay out of trouble,” you corrected.

“Was your sister accounted for?” Bailey asked.

“She was across the alley with a guy,” Tara answered with a shake of her head.

“Danny,” you filled in. “He didn’t do this.”

“And neither did Sam,” she said.

“Did he target one of you more than the other?” He asked.

“He turned to face Tara,” you said as you recalled the event. Most of it was a blur, but you could pick out one or two pieces. “But he didn’t have enough time to really target anyone.”

“Then you need to stay safe,” he said directly to Tara. “I would guess he’s going after your Woodsboro crew.”

“Typical,” Tara huffed, falling back against her chair.

“What do we do?” You asked, doing the opposite of her and leaning forward on the table. “Twiddle our thumbs until you maybe catch the guy?”

“Are you calling us incompetant?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “I am.”

“You’re going to go home and let us do our jobs,” he said.

“And if you don’t do your jobs?” You asked with a tilt of your head.

“You’re still going to stay out of it.” He wasn’t even looking at Tara anymore. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you answered.

You kept your eyes locked on his. It wasn’t your first stare down with Bailey, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. You knew you were on his permanent shit list, but quite frankly you didn’t care. His group of piss poor detectives had let you all down time and time again, you weren’t going to trust him with your life.

And you certainly weren’t going to trust him with Tara’s.

“You’re both free to go,” he finally said. “We’ll be in touch.”

“I bet you will,” you said, but stood up anyway.

Tara left the room before you, and you sent one more glare at Bailey before following suit. To no one’s surprise, Sam was already waiting. She checked on Tara and gave you a once-over before starting the walk out of the station. You gave Linda a smile and a little wave before walking outside.

Where the news stations were waiting.

It was absolute pandemonium. Too many voices, too many flashing lights, you were amazed the Carpenters weren’t fazed. Well, you were amazed but not surprised. You knew all the shit they had to deal with since Woodsboro. They were probably used to all the commotion that came with being survivors of a brutal series of killings.

“Don’t talk to them,” you said as you quickly got between them and the reporters. “Keep walking, I’ll take care of it.”

You turned around and held your arms behind you to keep a hold of Tara and did what you knew would work. As your godmother had taught you, you started swearing up a storm. Every word you could think of to form the most colourful string of curses you could come up with. The looks of pure agitation and frustration on the reporters’ faces was enough to make you smile.

“That doesn’t work on me, sweetheart.”

Your smile fell when Gale walked into your view.

“Now’s not the time,” you said with a pointed look. “We can talk later.”

“An exclusive?” She asked, following behind you as you pushed Sam and Tara down the sidewalk and away from the station. And the reporters.

“Without your cronie,” you said.

Gale gave you a look of pure exasperation, but only a moment later waved for her cameraman to leave. You waited for him to be out of earshot before you gestured for her to follow you, and she instantly fell into step with you as you both caught up to the Carpenters. They didn’t seem as impressed, but at least they knew her.

“Are you okay?” She asked you. “I heard you got hurt.”

“Just a scratch,” you said with a shrug. “Far less than you lot have gone through.”

“I had wanted to keep you out of all of this,” she said.

“Well,” you sighed. “Seems I’m in it now.”

“What are you doing here, Gale?” Sam asked, turning around quickly and stopping the four of you in your tracks. “I think you know we’re not too happy with you.”

“No one is ever happy with me, sweetheart,” Gale said with her News Smile. “I’m actually here to check up on Y/N.”

“With your cameraman?”

“How do you know Y/N?” Tara and Sam asked at the same time.

Everyone turned to look at you, who was in the process of biting your fingers off. You froze under the scrutiny, your hands slowly falling back down to your side where you shoved them in your pants pockets. It seemed like you were just going to be interrogated for the rest of your life.

“I’m their godmother,” Gale said when it was clear you were a little too frazzled to talk.

“Excuse me?” Tara asked.

“My Pop went to college with her,” you finally managed to say. “Suppose he liked her enough to make her part of the family.”

“And you just failed to mention that little fact?” Tara asked, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. Oops.

“Didn’t think it mattered,” you said with a shrug, “I’m not Woodsboro.”

“Can we focus?” Sam asked. “What do you want, Gale?”

“What happened?” Gale asked. “No recorder, no camera, just tell me.”

The three of you looked at each other and sighed. They might not trust Gale - which was understandable, she had written a book when she said she wouldn’t - but you did. She might not be blood, but she was family. You gave the Carpenters time to stop you before turning to face her and telling her what happened.

You ommitted the little detail that you were mid-lay.

“I’m going to go do some digging,” she said with a dazed nod of her head. “You do the same?”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a shrug. “I’ve got a few things to go over.”

“Good,” she said before looking back at Sam and Tara. “Stay safe.” She looked at you. “All of you.”

All of you nodded and mumbled an agreement before bidding Gale goodbye. You watched and waited for her to be gone before turning back around to face the others. Now that everything had mostly calmed down, you were starting to focus on the real issue at hand again.

“What now?” Tara asked, her eyes flicking between you and Sam.

“We need to meet up with Chad and Mindy,” Sam said. “Fill them in.”

“I’ll head to my apartment,” you said. Tara opened her mouth to protest almost instantly. “I need to go over a few things.”

“We need to stick together,” she said.

“We can all meet up at my apartment tomorrow night,” you said with a gentle voice. “I’ve got some digging of my own to do.”

“No one even knows where you live,” Sam said. She looked at Tara and waited to see if she knew. Thankfully, she didn’t, and Sam let out a barely noticeable sigh of relief.

“I’ll call you from a burner and tell you the address,” you said. Both girls looked at you with raised brows. “Can’t trace a burner, and it guarantees it won’t be mirrored.”

“That’s some sketchy shit,” Tara said. “How do you know this stuff?”

“Got a few tricks up my sleeve,” you shrugged. “Still not Ghostface,” you defended when Sam gave you a judgmental look.

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow,” Sam said. “Come on.”

She turned around to leave, and you stood there watching her go. Tara hesitated, looking between you and Sam. As much as you wanted her to stick around, you knew she needed to be with her gang. No one could understand them the way they understood each other, and one little half-hearted attack didn’t make you one of them. You knew that.

“Go on,” you said softly with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She looked at you for a little too long, long enough to have you shifting your weight from foot to foot. You inhaled deeply, trying your best to calm your racing thoughts and pulse. Tara stepped forward slowly and grabbed the front of your shirt, pulling you down just enough to plant a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Stay safe,” she said. “I mean it.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with another smile.

Tara took that as good enough and turned around, jogging to catch up with Sam. You could see the both of them talking, and Sam’s arm wrapped protectively around Tara’s shoulders. It was sweet. You couldn’t even imagine what all they went through on a regular basis. All the chaos was enough to make anyone insane. They were lucky to have each other.

You shook the thought out of your head and started the long walk back to your apartment. If they were all coming over tomorrow night, you would need to have all your ducks in a row. No way were you inviting veterans into your home only to look like a fool.

—---

By the time everyone showed up at your apartment, you were running on 43 hours of being awake, your seventh espresso, and your 13th RedBull. Were you going insane? Yes. Could you smell colours? Absolutely. In fact, red smelled like black pepper. Or maybe that was the disgusting takeout you had been munching on for the past nine hours.

Damn, you needed to clean. Thank god Garret wouldn’t be back from his parent’s house until next weekend.

The knock on your front door pulled you back to the current situation. Right. You were going to show everyone what you had discovered. Which, not to brag, but it was pretty impressive. You managed to sweep the majority of the trash into a trash bag and put it off to the side before tripping over papers on the way to the door.

“Hey,” you said with a frazzled smile when you threw the door open and saw the entire gang standing there.

“When was the last time you slept?” Anika asked.

“Or showered,” Chad chimed in.

“Just get in here,” you said as you stepped aside. “I’m definitely on to something.”

“Good, because I have my own theories,” Mindy said with a smile. She was the first to enter.

You said hi to every one of them as they came in. Anika gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek and Quinn patted your unhurt arm. When Tara finally walked in, at the very end of the line, she gave you a look that you… couldn’t quite describe. She didn’t look sad. You supposed “worried” was a much better descriptor.

“You didn’t even change out of the shirt,” she said, pulling lightly on the NYPD shirt that you were still sporting.

“Shit,” you mumbled, “you’re right.”

“Go change,” she said, and you nodded before shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Get settled,” you told everyone as you walked into your room. You left the door open as you dug for something to wear. “All ‘a youse stayed safe, right?” You called.

“Safe and sound,” Anika called back.

“Good,” you said, tossing the NYPD shirt onto the bed. You were still trying to orient the new shirt as you walked back into the living room. “I’ve got some information you’re all going to love.”

“Who is that guy staring at us from across the alley?” Chad asked.

“What?” You said as you finally pulled the shirt over your head. You walked over to the window to see who he was talking about. “Oh, that’s Tony.”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“My older brother,” you said, shooting a wave at him. He waved back and smiled. “After the other night, I asked him to keep watch. His bedroom window watches the fire escape outside my room.”

“How many brothers do you even have?” Quinn asked, mostly to herself.

“Five,” you answered anyway, “and two sisters.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Tara asked incredulously.

“What can I say,” you shrugged. “We’re Catholic.”

“And you trust Tony?” Mindy asked. “Like really trust him?”

“With my life,” you said. “Now, everyone sit down, I’ve got a few things to show you.” You looked around. “Where’s Ethan?”

“Econ,” Chad answered.

You looked around for a moment, collecting your thoughts. “Alright then,” you said. “Mindy, would you like to enthrall us with your theories while I get my stuff situated?”

“I would love to,” she said with a smile as she stood up in front of everyone.

You listened to Mindy’s talk about sequels and remakes and upping the budget and yada yada. It was all very flashy, very out there, but you could respect it. If anyone would know what was going on, it would be Mindy. And she managed to fill more than enough time while you finished pulling everything up on your laptop and hooking it up to the projector on the ceiling.

“Now we shall hear your theories,” Mindy said as she practically handed you the floor.

“Not necessarily theories,” you said, “but I dug up some dirt.”

“And how did you manage to do that?” Chad asked as he leaned back against your couch.

“Well, Chadwick,” you said, ignoring the glare he sent you, “I learned from a very reliable source.”

“Gale is their godmother,” Sam explained.

“And my sister Martha is a tech guru,” you said as you pulled up your powerpoint presentation, “so I learned from the best.”

“Did you turn this into a TED Talk?” Quinn asked with a tilt of her head.

“Why yes I did, Quinn, thank you for asking,” you said as you pulled up the first slide.

“How long is this presentation?” Tara asked.

“Long,” you said with a smile, “so buckle up.”

You went over everything you had managed to dig up for the past 18 hours. From all the Reddit conspiracies, to possible motives. You pointed out how all the theories of Sam being the killer had all managed to come from different sock puppet accounts, which all connected to two different real accounts, which shared IP addresses.

“And you learned how to find that out from your sister?” Anika asked as she leaned forward on her thighs.

“Yes I did,” you said, “and she’s never wrong.”

“Who do the two accounts belong to?” Tara asked.

“Now that I don’t know yet,” you sighed. “But we got our two potential Ghostfaces right there.”

“Two?” Sam asked.

“There’s almost always two,” you said. “Except for, uh, what’s his name,” you shuffled through some of the papers on your table. “Ah, that Roman guy.”

Everyone looked at you with a mix of shock, confusion, and amazement. And maybe a little bit of fear.

“I told you I did my research,” you defended. “Unlike you guys, I didn’t grow up with Ghostface as part of my school curriculum.”

“So you did all this just to tell us you still don’t know who it is?” Chad asked.

“I’m not a detective, I’m doing my best,” you huffed. “It’s more than that pig Bailey ever did.” You instantly looked at Quinn. “No offense, doll.”

“None taken,” she said with a shrug.

“But I do think this means he’s going after you, Sam,” you said. “He painted a bullseye on you with the Reddit bullshit. Must’ve pissed someone off.”

“Seems that’s all I ever do,” she said with a huff.

Everyone got to talking, going over what you had managed to find out. You continued shuffling through your papers, seeing if there was anything else you had left out. All the adrenaline and caffeine was starting to wear off and your eyes were fuzzy, but you could focus long enough to read. Mostly.

Your phone vibrated on the table, and you looked down. From the area code, the call was from the Bronx. If anything, one of your siblings got a new phone and was calling you to let you know. It had happened far too many times anyway, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Quit breakin’ your goddamn phone,” you said immediately after answering.

“Hello, Y/N.”

You froze.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “Cat got your tongue?”

Everyone was still talking amongst themselves. You didn't know if you were supposed to tell them about the call or not. No one was looking at you, so you walked over to the window. When Tino looked over, you signed for him to watch.

"You and your buddy showin' up tonight?" You asked. "Or are you both a couple 'a pussies?"

"You're bold," he said. "Have you learned much from your research?"

"A bit," you said. You were eying the streets below. Surely he was somewhere close.

"Then I'll ask you the single most important question," he said. "What's your favourite scary movie?"

“Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure,” you said. “Large Marge will haunt me till I die.”

“You think you’re funny.”

“My Ma told me I’m a natural comedian.” He wasn’t in the alley. Where was he?

“You ever seen Stab?”

“Not really,” you said. You were vaguely aware of the fact that everyone had fallen silent. “I think they're insensitive."

"Insensitive?" He chuckled. "How chivalrous."

"You gonna play your game or not?" You asked, finally turning back around to see everyone staring at you.

Oh no.

"Did you check Garret’s room when you got home last night?"

Your eyes darted to Garret’s closed bedroom door. No. No you hadn’t checked it last night. The phone fell from your hand as you vaulted over the armchair in your way. Someone was calling to you, but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. Without any hesitation or sense of self preservation, you threw the door open.

No one was in there.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Don’t go in there!” Mindy shouted at you from the living room. “Have you never seen a horror movie?”

“Just shut up,” you called back. “Get out,” you said when you grabbed one of the baseball bats you kept in every room of the apartment. “Tony’s apartment number is 413, it’s a four floor walk-up.”

“I’m staying,” Tara said.

“Come on,” Chad said; you hoped he grabbed her and forced her to leave.

This is a stupid idea, you thought as you stalked your way to Garret’s closed closet door. Sure, you had a bat, but you had no idea what you were going to do if that fucker was in there. What, you were going to just bludgeon him to death? Yeah, that would look great on your rap sheet.

“Here goes nothin’,” you mumbled as you turned the doorknob and threw the door open, the bat primed and ready.

No one was in there either.

“What the-”

-screams came from the front door.

Shit. 

You tripped over Garret’s duffel bag that he had left and hit the floor with a hard *thud*. The stitches on your bicep pulled tight. You could hear your pulse racing in your ears as you pushed yourself back up to your feet and ran out of the room.

Just in time to see Ghostface pulling the knife out of Anika’s stomach.

You saw Mindy not too far away holding her bleeding arm, but you couldn’t find anyone else. That was probably a good thing.

Ghostface lifted the knife again.

The wood of the bat rubbed harshly against the skin of your palms as you swung. It hit his head with a hollow *thunk*, and he groaned and fell to the ground. You didn't recall crossing the living room.

“Go,” you shouted as you pushed Anika and Mindy into your room and slammed the door behind the three of you.

Mindy helped Anika onto your bed and pushed against the wound that you could now see went all the way from her sternum to her stomach. Your own stomach twisted at the sight. The muscles in your legs were frozen even as your mind ran rampant.

Something grabbed the doorknob.

You dropped the bat and lunged, slamming into the door right as it opened. Your hands wrapped around the doorknob as it twisted erratically. The metal started to heat up from the friction and you could feel it burning the skin on your palms.

"We're going to die," Anika cried.

"Try to stay positive," Mindy told her even as she was looking around the room for… you didn't know what.

The doorknob twisted again. The door opened slightly, and you slammed your shoulder into it again. Why didn't you fix the fucking lock when you had the chance last week?

"If we get out of this alive, I'm fucking strangling you-"

-The gleam of a knife shut you up and took over everything in your sight.

You followed as it pulled out, leaving a hole in your door right beside your head along with a light smear of blood.

"Get out," you said, your eyes still glued to the blood smear on your door.

"What?" Mindy asked 

"Fire escape leads to Tony's room," you said.

"Tara will kill me if I leave you-"

-the knife drove through the door again. You jumped back but felt a sharp sting in your hip.

The door tried to fly open again. You yelped, but pushed against it harder. Your bare feet dug into the carpet and you could feel the strain in your thighs.

"Give me the chair," you ordered, waving your hand vaguely in the direction of a metal folding chair.

Someone shuffled around the room, and in seconds you felt the chair in your outstretched hand. You placed it underneath the doorknob.

The knife pierced the door again.

And again.

And again.

"Come on," you heard Mindy say to Anika. At least you assumed that was who she was talking to.

Anika groaned, but the sounds meant they were moving. Hopefully to your window. Your pulse was rushing in your ear.

The doorknob jiggled again.

"Grab my hand!" Okay, that was Sam, the window was open.

The knife came into your field of view.

Oh god this was so stupid!

"Y/N, come on!"

Tara?

The doorknob quit moving and the room was enveloped with a deafening silence.

You let go of the doorknob slowly and took a few hesitant steps back. The heel of your foot hit the bat, and you reached down to pick it up without taking your eyes off the door.

"Just get out here!"

The grain of the wood rubbed your palms raw as you tightened your grip on the handle. It hung in the air above your shoulder, ready to swing.

I dare you to try it.

"Tara wait!"

Someone stepped onto the fire escape before climbing into the window. You didn't dare turn from the door. A familiar hand touched your ear. It stung.

"You're bleeding," Tara said softly.

You didn't answer.

There was banging in the living room. You twisted your hands around the bat and planted your feet. So help you god, if Ghostface even so much as sneezed you would-

"-It's Bailey!"

Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe two.

"We have paramedics downstairs," he continued, "open the door."

Your eyes stayed on the door even as you toed the chair, pulling it until it fell to the ground with a *clang*.  Your grip on the bat tightened as you watched the doorknob twist.

Detective Bailey stepped into the room, hands held up in surrender.

You exhaled sharply and felt all the muscles in your body relax.

The bat fell to the ground as your vision went fuzzy. Tara's hand fell and rested on your hip.

You supposed you had just survived attack number two.

[starry-bi-sky]

The fun thing about CFAU danny is that he grew up in crime alley during his early developmental and foundational years, and was only in amity park for four years before his accident. Which means: potential to explore how this affects his personality. How does he act?

If he grows up in crime alley, which is rife with violence and crime and he like everyone else bares witness to it, how will that change who he is compared to canon?

Because he’s not gonna be the exact same as canon, thats not how development works. Something’s gonna change. So is he violent? Is he a thief? A liar? A follower, a leader? A backstabber? How selfish is he? Because selflessness gets you killed.

How willing is he to get shot/stabbed/murdered/trafficked for another person when he’s surrounded by people who take priority over themselves more than others? And is largely not taught otherwise? (And are valid for their self-preservation?)

What’s his kindness look like, is it rough? Tough love all the way through, showing other kids how to bloody up their knuckles to keep their own face safe?

Showing kids how to file down their teeth with the broken glass at their feet, so that when they bite they make it hurt?

Or is it more gentle, but still bloody, showing kids how to keep their head down and out of the way of the bigger, meaner kids barreling their way past? How to blend in, how to hide? How to not get caught?

Is it a third option, and always bloody, always hurting? Does he get in the way, take the hits? Always a shield, never the shielded? His nose having been broken so many times it’s permanently crooked, are his eyes always black? His lip always bleeding? Does he have scars?

Is it a fourth option, a fifth option, a sixth? Is it bloody? It may as well be, Crime Alley is always bloody. Always bleeding. Danny will see death, he will see suffering, he won’t unless he closes his eyes and covers his ears.

Does he have bad habits? Stealing, smoking, drinking, kids mimic the adults and even if his parents try to teach him out of it, it takes a village to raise a child. If the village is violent, then the child will be too. Is he malnourished? Jason was. He will be.

How does Dan change in comparison to canon vs a Danny who grew up in crime alley? Does he change at all? Or is Danny just more horrified by him, because he’s more similar to him than he previously thought?

What are his thoughts on Batman and Robin? Does he like them, think them myth, distrust them? How does his time in Gotham influence his perspective on the people there, on the world around him? His thoughts on Bruce Wayne (beyond the improbable him immediately figuring out Bruce Wayne = Batman)? The Elite? Does he have an accent? What’s his education like?

And CFAU Danny is fun because I get to explore that. He is ultimately still Danny - still kind, and selfless, sarcastic, punny. But how does he show it? What other traits does he have? What has changed, and what has stayed?

[moonit3]

a soulmate au with a yandere who isn’t reader’s soulmate, can you imagine it? the angst, the pain, the sobbing and the eventually bloodlust made the yandere when noticing the universe is separating you away from them? this is peak.

the potential scenarios i have in mind are down below, but first some warnings/notices: yandere, scarring, blood, killings made the yandere, breaking inside reader’s house (the yandere, not me), blood, mentioned kidnapping, identity theft, body modification (such as plastic surgery).

matching tattoos!

the moment they noticed the difference from yours tattoo from them was horrible, the numerous plans they made inside their head to finally approach you were immediately broken down and their smile was gone.

this can’t be real! ITS MUST BE JUST A MISTAKE THE UNIVERSE MADE!!!! you are destined to be with them til your last breath like they always planned, but things don’t always go like planned, so they have to adjust to make things work to their needs.

already knowing how your tattoo looks like, the yandere don’t hesitate to pay a great amount of money to change the tattoo they have. the process hurt a lot, but it was worth it when they finally introduced themselves by showing their new tattoo to you.

the realization in your face when you see the matching tattoo on their arm is truly amazing, eyes sparking when you hugged them and asked them if a date sounds good and who is them to refuse?

the world is grey until meeting the soulmate’s eyes!

the yandere expected you to be responsible to make them seeing the colors of the worlds, but they were caught off the guard when they accidentally looked into someone’s else eyes, someone that isn’t you. and it didn’t took much time for the yandere to get rid of that person themselves, it was really easy actually. that idiot was into the delusion they were in love with each other.

and when they came after to watch you, the yandere finds out that your soulmate has already died a long time ago, making your world becoming grey once again. what a devastating news! (nah, they are smiling inside), but the death of your beloved doesn’t change the fact that you can’t love again.

in fact the yandere tells you that he also lost his soulmate and gains your compassion by the sweet lies they tell you, it’s doesn’t take time to get closer to you and then dating.

you couldn’t be happier to have a relationship with another person after your world turned grey again and the yandere couldn’t be happier to be with his true soulmate, but he can’t forget to feed the other one who lives down on their basement, after all they still need to see the colors on the world to choose the best clothes to fit your eyes.

soulmate share each other names on the wrist!

the name they have on the wrist doesn’t match your and nor does your match their, but that don’t last long after changing their whole identity just to be yours. is that a crime? probably so, specifically after he literally obliterated that stupid person who dared to steal their rightful position…but you don’t need to know about that part and also the part they adapt themselves to become your real soulmate.

the money they spent to resemble someone they weren’t, the time they lost to mimic the voice that stupid loser and the people they had to eliminate to not bring any suspicion are worth. they are doing this for you, to your name and to make sure that anyone else hurts you, but you don’t need to know that!

their face hurts a little every time they smile at you (which is often), but that doesn’t matter. blood comes out of their nose one a while (the surgeon told them to not force themselves after the surgery) and sometimes you notice how their voice keeping failing, is something wrong with your significant other? they assure it’s nothing, but you can’t believe them….

@moonit3 writings

[webslingingslasher]

Oh, Baby.

What happens when you realize your period is late and you may or may not be pregant?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: Fluff/angst

Word Count: 3.1K

Pure terror ran through your body on the way to Peter’s apartment. 

Usually it was a slight anxiety, the shaking of your leg in anticipation to see your boy; or the fingertips you tapped on the subway pole when there was no space to sit so your hands were forced to mimic the beat of the music running through your headphones. 

Usually you had a half grin, love sick look on your face knowing after the 10 minute train ride you would be in Peter’s room, in his bed with him all over you. He would kiss down your face, and you would push him away after he starts to blow raspberries on your neck. 

“Peter,” You would whine, moving your head away while simultaneously pushing lightly at his chest. “Stop, my neck tingles!” It was always the same complaint, the vibration of his lips and warm breath sent chills down your spine while also slightly buzzing a part in your brain that made you squirm far away. Then, Peter would laugh at your reaction like he always does and will give you the same ‘I’m not sorry’ look and say “I’m sorry baby, let me make it up,” and he would pull you into a kiss that left you pushing him off you in a different way. 

You would ask him for help with homework and he would walk you through it, sometimes explaining the same thing 4 times but slightly different each way so he could help you understand it the best way possible. He would kiss the tip on your nose, then your eyebrow and say “That’s it baby!” when he looked over your shoulder and watched you do the practice question he wrote down with no help. 

You would look over at Peter and have that same exploding love feeling that built up so ferociously that you felt like you were seconds from death if you didn't kiss him, or feel his skin on yours in that moment. And you would kiss Peter, and he would eventually lay you back on his bed and slowly both of you would pull each other's clothes off. 

So, usually you couldn’t wait to see him. 

But, today you were stoic. No excited foot taps, no headphones in either, the thoughts in your head were loud enough to block out any surrounding sounds. You didn’t even tell Peter you were coming over, scared you would let the reasoning slip. You hated to surprise him with this but you were too. No, blindsided. You were blindsided. 

“Hi.” Your words sounded timid. You looked at him in the doorway, eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw you behind the door. 

He caught on immediately, “Hi. You okay?” 

He pushed the door open and stepped to the side to have you enter. He noticed your silence in regard to his question. You pulled him into a tight hug, your arms wrapped around his middle and you squeezed, your head fully buried into his stomach, if you tried to get a big breath in your air was trapped in the cotton of his shirt. Peter let out a small ‘oof’ before wrapping his own arms around you. 

“Hi.” You repeated, you closed your eyes against him. You could feel the tears gathering behind your eyelids. 

Peter lent his mouth against the top of your head. He smelled your hair and whispered back, “Hi,” then repeated his question, “Are you alright?” 

You gave him a final squeeze and pulled back. His brown doe eyes looked into yours, his eyes told you he was concerned he looked at your face and saw the frown, your eyes looked red, you looked nervous, scared even. 

You swallowed hard, “Can we talk?” 

Peter let you push him down by his shoulders unto his bed, he kept quiet and gave you his undivided attention. He watched you open your mouth, he could see the frustrated look on your face when you couldn’t form the words you wanted to say. He tilted his head slightly, giving you the ‘It’s okay, it’s just me’ look. 

You looked down, not being able to look him in the eye in shame. 

“I can’t do this.” You mumbled, trying to find the words. 

“Do what?” Peter’s voice had an edge.

“This.” You motioned between the two of you. 

“Use your words.” He sat straighter, bracing himself for the blow you were about to deliver. 

He watched you as you let a few tears drop. You looked away from him, he shouldn’t have to go through this with you. He was a kid, and so were you. But he had more responsibilities than any other kid you could think of at this age, Spider-Man, being top of the class, juggling friends and May between giving you all the time in the world. He shouldn’t have to deal with this, nor should you. It was unfair. 

You shook your head. If you spoke now the dam would break and you wouldn’t be able to say anything. 

“Y/N, If you’re going to break up with me I need you to say it.” Peter spoke with authority and your eyes went wide. 

“No! No! I’m not-” You dropped off, not even wanting to say the words. 

“I’m not- I wouldn’t do that, okay?” 

“I just-” You felt the tears coming, you couldn’t stop them. You broke into a sob, “Please don’t be mad at me.” You felt the air leave your lungs, you couldn’t fucking breathe, the room felt like it was closing in and all you wanted was Peter to hug you and tell you it would be okay. Because that’s what Peter did, he never knew what it was but the first instinct was always to say it would be okay because for the better part it usually would. 

He pulled you down unto his lab by your hand and pushed you into his chest, letting his heartbeat fall into your ear. He ran a hand down your hair, he felt you sob and rack breaths against his shoulder. He was shushing you before you broke into a loop of half crying and half choking repeating the words “please don’t be mad at me,” and ‘i’m sorry,”  over and over.

You noticed it 2 hours ago. It was all because you replaced the toilet paper. 

You had gone into your bathroom cabinet looking for the extra toilet paper rolls you kept stashed underneath and you saw your tampon box. You thought, “Huh, I haven’t had my period yet this month.” And shrugged, it was no biggie, a few days late didn’t matter. You weren't on birth control, Peter used condoms and that was fine. You had a scheduled period without it being scheduled, usually it was around the same week each month, but when you actually thought about it you had to ask, ‘Wait. When was my last period?’ 

The instant panic set in, you looked at your phone calendar. 3 weeks. You were 3 weeks late. It wasn’t a few days, it wasn’t even a week off course. It was a month. You couldn’t be, no way. It happened to people sure, but not you, not Peter. It wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this. 

You paced around your room at first in denial. ‘No, I’m not pre- Stop. Don’t even think about that, you’re fine, it’s okay. I’m not-” You looked at your phone, thumb hovering over Peter’s contact name, you almost called him, but settled for an in person meeting. 

“I’m not mad, baby, tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was soft and smooth. It was caring, endearing even. It wasn’t fair for him. 

“You’re going to hate me.”  

He squeezed you. “Stop.” He always hated negative talk.

“Nothing you’re going to say will make me hate you.”

“This time it will.” 

“Tell me.” He challenged you. 

Your crying settled, you were better now. You were able to form sentences. 

“I’m late.” You held your eyes shut, waiting for the explosion. 

“For what?” He ran a hand up and down your back, he was soothing you while you were about to drop a bomb on him. 

“No, I’m late.” You looked at him in the face. You had to be brave. 

Peter looked confused. 

“My period is late, Peter.” You spoke each word independently scared you would spew the words out so fast he would make you repeat them. 

He took a deep breath in. 

“Okay.” 

“A month late, Peter.” 

He nodded his head. 

“Okay.” 

He had to be strong right now, he might be slightly panicking on the inside but clearly you were the more upset one and it wouldn’t be good for both of you to be freaking out. 

“Do you think you’re pregn-” 

“Stop.” You cut him off. 

“Don’t say it.” 

He closed his mouth and tried to find his way around the question.

“Do you think you might be?” You both were not to say the P word. 

“I don’t know.” Your words broke, the tears were about to start again.

“Did you take a test?” 

You hated how adult Peter was right now, he was making you seem so immature and childish about this. 

“Are you mad at me?” You wondered if that was the reason behind the blank face he wore. 

“What? No. No, not at all. It takes two to make a b-” He tried to calm your fears but you stopped him again, you got louder this time. Not quite a yell but edging that way.

“Stop saying things like that!” You pushed away from him and stood up. 

“Do you even understand this? Do you know what this means? Do you get what I’m saying?” You were upset with yourself but Peter was here to take the heat so right now it was his problem. 

“Baby,” He tried.

“Don’t call me that right now.” Your tone was bitter. The word made you mad.

He sighed, “Okay, sweetheart. I-” He paused to find the right words but couldn’t. He felt defeated right now and he hasn’t felt like this ever. He was the fixer, he solved all your problems and was the one that made you feel better when you were in the dumps. 

But this was a problem he couldn’t solve.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” It was honest. He couldn’t make it better but he wasn’t trying to make it worse. 

“I don’t know!” You exploded on him. He didn’t take it personally, he knew you were in crisis mode. “Just,” You pulled at the roots of your hair, desperate for your boyfriend to do something, make this go away, stop the panic and fear and shame. 

“Just fix it!” You pleaded. 

He stood and held you to him. Tears wet his shirt, he felt his own clouding up his eyes so he shut them. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can fix this one.” His voice made him sound defeated. You broke him. 

“You always fix it.” You reminded him. 

“I know.” He kissed your forehead. 

“Did you take a test?” He sounded more authoritative this time. 

“No.” 

“Okay. I can do that, I can get you one.” He felt a little happy he could do something for you. 

“Okay.” You pulled from him. 

“Okay?” He watched you nod at him. 

“Get the good one. The expensive one, I don’t trust the one dollar ones.” 

“Got it. What else?” He was putting his wallet in his back pocket, he would be going to a bodega not even a block down the street. 

“Nothing.” You couldn’t imagine anything making this more bearable at the moment. 

“Okay.” Peter nodded at you and looked you over, he hoped you would be okay the five minutes he would be gone. “I love you.” The words made you choke up. He still loved you, even now. 

You smiled, he knew you needed to hear that.

“I love you too.” You watched him step out his bedroom door. 

“Wait,” He turned to look at you, waiting for you to finish your thought. 

He watched you grin shyly, “Can you get me a chocolate milk too?”

“Anything for you ba-” He cleared his throat, “darling.”

You nodded and watched him leave. 

Peter returned in record timing pulling the chocolate milk from the bag, (the good expensive stuff too. Peter felt like you deserved the extra $2 splurge) and leaving the test hidden in the opaque plastic, you shouldn’t have to stare at it until you were ready to take it. 

You took the bottle from him and twisted off the cap with a crack of the seal. 

“Gonna have to crack open a cold one for this.” You cheers the empty space in front of you and down a quarter of it and pass it to Peter. He holds his hands out in a passing manner, “No, I’m trying to lay off the hard stuff.” You laughed and insisted he take it, “C’mon I think you deserve a shot after today.” 

He sighed and looked around, “Alright, just one okay? Don’t let my sponsor know about this.” 

You giggled while you watched him drink an equal amount before he handed it back and you replaced the cap. 

“We’re gonna need this for later.” You placed the bottle on his nightstand. 

You lent your head on his shoulder. Your voice is quiet, “We’re gonna be okay, right?” 

“Yeah. We’re going to be just fine.” You nodded against him. You chose to believe him.

You stood and pulled the test from the bag. He got you the nice one like you said, 2 tests inside. It was the digital “Pregnant” or “Not Pregnant” one. No squinting at lines, saying “is that a double line or a single?” 

You let out a heavy breath and looked at your boyfriend. How he is so calm right now is beyond you. You looked at the test again and the trip to the bathroom seemed long and lonely and you didn’t want to be alone. You gave him the sweet eyes that usually got you what you wanted. 

“Can you come with me?” 

He sat up like a spring, walking ahead of you. “Of course.”

You peed on the stick while Peter sat on the side of the tub and talked to you about something because you were pee shy and couldn’t do it in the silence of the room knowing Peter was right next to you.

Laying the test flat on the sink you asked Peter to set the timer for 5 minutes. You didn’t know how long 5 minutes could be until now. 

You sat next to him thigh to thigh on the tub slinking your hand between his. 

“Be honest. Are you freaking out just as much as I am?” You looked at him to see his reaction. 

He laughed, more like a chuckle. “Oh yeah.” 

“You’re better at hiding it than me.” You pushed the curls falling into his eyes away. 

“You didn’t need me to freak out, you needed me to support you. And I do.” He squeezed your hand in his.

You didn’t want to ask but this was the reality of the situation. 

“What happens if it’s positive?” You held your breath.

“I don’t know.” He wishes he could say more. 

“Neither do I.” You were in the same boat. 

If the ship was sinking you'd go down together. 

“I love you. I will always love you no matter what, positive or not I'm in your corner.” He looked at you and let himself be scared. 

“If it’s.. If I’m pregnant,” You almost choked on the word, it was the first time you said it.

“If I’m pregnant, I don’t want to keep it.” You refused to look at his face. This was the shame, the immediate thought crossed your mind the second you started to question it. 

“Okay.” He nodded. He agreed. He accepted. 

“You’re okay with that? Or are you just saying that because it’s what you think I want to hear?” 

“It’s your body, your choice.” He didn’t give his opinion. You noticed that. 

“No. It’s your baby too. You get a say in the matter.” You were not backing down.

He thought of his next words carefully. 

“We’re not bad people for not wanting a baby right now.” 

That was all you needed to hear from him. Conformation. He was in this with you. 

His timer went off. You both looked at eachother, your heart felt like it stopped. You both sat for a moment, you both knew that this was the last moment before your lives changed. Positive would mean a whole new conversation about what was next and negative would mean you both needed to take a step back and reevaluate how you’ve been doing things. 

You stood and shook your hands out. You blew out a breath. 

“I’m gonna look now.” You still haven’t moved. You didn’t want to see the result. 

You sat back down next to Peter. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” 

“Do you want me to look?” 

You nodded, “Please.” 

You watched him stand, walk to the sink and peer at the test. He turned and looked at you. You couldn’t read his face. You held your breath in anticipation. 

“Negative.” 

Both of you smiled at the same time. 

“Oh thank fucking God!” You cheered and fist pumped. 

“I thought my heart was going to fall out of my ass.” Peter breathed out. 

“I’m not pregnant! We’re not pregnant!” You danced around and high 10 Peter. 

He wrapped his arms around you for a hug, you both latched onto each other and held each other in silence. The moment needing no words. 

“I’m getting on birth control ASAP.” You talked into his collar. 

“I didn’t want to suggest it but I think that’s a very good idea.” He kissed your temple. 

You pulled away and looked into his eyes. They were light and warm, you realized how much he internalized his emotions and thoughts so you could freak out. 

“I love you. I love you more than you will ever know. Thank you for being here with me, I would’ve really lost it if you weren't here.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Oh, so that was you keeping it together?” 

“Hey! I think I did pretty good.” You swat at his chest.

“If pretty good is hanging on by a thread, then you did an awesome job.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Hey, I love you too, okay? More than you will ever know. I’m here for you no matter what.” He lent down to give you the first kiss since you arrived. 

When you pulled away you looked at him and said, “You know what would be really good right now?” 

“Hmm?” Peter looked at you like a love sick dope fiend. 

“Celebratory chocolate milk.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 32 (Paul Lahote)

Summary: Rebuilding their relationship is slow, but worth it. They struggle to find their footing as life goes on, sharing what's on their mind and weighing on their hearts.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, GRAPHIC depictions of death and blood

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

It’s been a few days since Paul promised he’d ask Y/N’s permission to host a birthday dinner. Daisy has texted him at least a dozen times by now, demanding details he cannot provide. Some would say he’s afraid to ask, but that’s not the core issue here. The key to this puzzling silence on his behalf lies in the way Y/N is sitting on his lap, running her soft hands over his as she lathers them in sweet-scented hand cream. A soft smile lingers upon her supple lips and her eyes shyly shift to his curious ones so often he’s barely able to keep his composure. All he wants is to taste her again, to feel her responding to his advances the way she once did – hungrily, unapologetically, wildly, and often. There were days he was concerned about how often she initiated sex…he missed those days. And now when they’re rebuilding intimacy brick by fragile brick, Paul isn’t all too happy about it being put at risk because of Daisy and her inability to give others space.

“You’re staring,” she raises her left eyebrow.

“How can I not?”

Biting his bottom lip, Paul suppresses a smile. Seeing it as a challenge, Y/N cups his cheeks. Brushing the tip of her nose against his, she grins as he releases his tortured bottom lip a shade darker, lightly swollen, and kissable…so incredibly inviting.

“Now who’s staring?” Paul teases as his hands grip her hips.

“How can I not?” She mimics. “You’re incredibly beautiful and you’re mine.”

Unable to resist, Paul’s lips spread in a smile she’d been craving. She can see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. When she lost her sparkle and stopped smiling, his faded as well. It’s truly rewarding to make an effort to get better when it reflects so perfectly in Paul.

“I am.”

“Mine?”

“Incredibly beautiful,” he exclaims, evoking a laugh from her he hasn’t heard in a long time. It’s bright and playful and she’s throwing her head back and he can’t help but laugh with her. Y/N’s laugh is Paul’s serenity and a sign she feels safe with him. Oftentimes Paul caught himself wondering if Y/N trusts he can keep her safe as he once promised her. There’s not a single part of him that trusted himself to be able to do as much, but it would kill him if she doubted him too.

Resting her forehead on his, Y/N lets out a soft exhale, her hands sliding lower until her fingertips rest on his jawline.

“Yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been, always will be.”

“Thank you,” Y/N’s voice is weak, as if her soul trembles for reassurance Paul was certain he’s diligently given time and time again. But if she needs to hear it more often, he’ll give it to her.

“Don’t thank me. Why are you thanking me?”

“For not regretting having me as an imprint.”

“I could never regret you,” Paul takes her face in his hands. Can’t she see she’s his entire world? “Look at me,” Paul orders but she squeezes her eyes shut. “Hey, hey,” he says firmly. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, she does as told. Her lips part slightly in anticipation.

“Every day I get to spend with you is another day I cherish life, love, and destiny. I didn’t believe in that shit!” Chuckling, Paul shakes his head. “Don’t you see? You made me believe in love and destiny and actually speak that into existence! There’s no one else on this planet that I would let hear me being this sappy.”

“It is a little sappy,” she jokes and he chuckles heartily.

“Well, you’re gonna pay for that.”

Raising her eyebrows, she smirks. “And how exactly are you going to make me?”

Pursing his lips, Paul pulls up his legs, his knees coming up right from behind her back enough to push her firmly into his chest.

“Crushing me? That’s your perfect plan?”

Giving her thighs a squeeze, he nods. “In a way.”

Before she had a moment to think, Y/N yelps as she lands on the soft mattress, Paul on top of her. His body weight presses her into the bed, genuinely crushing her to death. So why does it feel so good? Her nightgown moved aside, revealing a part of her right breast and Paul’s licking his lips as he cracked a smile unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her chest. He wants nothing more than to possess Y/N again, to feel her writhe beneath him as she comes undone. Lost in his soul’s desire, his mouth comes down hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them. Restraint crumbles beneath the weight of pent-up longing, and his lips mold to hers with an urgency that borders on primal. The kiss, though almost brutal in its intensity, is an act of reclamation, a fervent assertion of belonging.

He loses himself in the warmth of her breath, in the softness of her lips yielding beneath the onslaught of his need. The world outside this stolen embrace ceases to exist. His hands find refuge in the tousled strands of her hair, fingers tangling and releasing in a rhythm dictated by their synchronized heartbeats.

An inkling of common sense washes over him, pushing himself off her instantly. Laying on his back, beside Y/N, Paul covers his face. He allowed himself to lose control long enough to forget about her boundaries, about her wishes. It was a game that turned into so much more far too quickly and he lost himself long enough to act like a predator catching up with the prey.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows thickly, unable to look at her as a cold wave of regret washes up at the shores of his conscience. What started as a game, a dance on the precipice of shared longing he’s allowed to spiral into something he never intended. In this vulnerable moment, Paul grapples not only with the awful breach of invisible boundaries he feels were drawn since their almost wedding, but with the fear of disappointing her, of shattering the trust carefully woven between them.

Y/N doesn’t respond, but the weight on the mattress shifts and then it’s on top of him. Looking at her through his fingers, Paul can’t believe the sight. She’s entirely bare before him, her breasts on display, and her hands are pulling down his boxers faster than he can comprehend.

“What are you doing?” Paul’s voice is laced with curiosity and caution.

“What you’re scared of doing,” she remarks. Her movements are deliberate, determined to bridge the emotional chasm she feels separated them as they finally made some progress.

Grabbing her hands tightly, he sits up with a frown etched upon his forehead. “Stop that and talk to me.” His words sound like a tender echo in the room.

Chuckling dryly, she shakes her head. She meets his gaze unclouded by shame or disappointment. Instead, it holds a quiet reassurance. “That’s the point, Paul. I don’t want to talk, or think, I just want you.” His face is set in a firm, serious expression as she rolls her eyes at him. “I want you inside of me;” she clarifies, as her hands reach for his, intertwining in a gentle grasp.

“If that’s what you want,” he nods.

“Do you?”

“More than you could ever know.”

She pulls him to her, seeking his mouth. He laughs at her grasping hands, teasing her, but there’s no ridicule in his chocolate eyes. There’s only the wish to prolong their pleasure. A sparkle comes alive in her eyes, and Paul knows she will have the last laugh. Her hands move downward. When she finds what she wants, there is no more laughter in his eyes. They are black with passion as he pushes her down beside him.

It isn’t long before their pleasure reaches its high and they’re both released from their sweet torment. Y/N feels drained, her bones weak as Paul moves partially aside, though his leg is still across her calf, his arm across her breasts.

“That was -” Paul begins.

“Long overdue,” she exclaims. “I don’t think we’ve ever done it this quickly!”

“As long as we both finish,” he notes happily.

“How are you so sure I did?”

Paul smirks. “Oh, I know.”

Brushing his hair back, she sighs. “I love you.”

“Even with the beard?”

Giggling, she nods. “Even with the beard!”

“Good, good. Guess I’m going to throw away the shaving cream I bought this morning.”

Pecking his shoulder, Y/N places a hand over Paul’s chest. “Definitely. You’re not shaving until we see how well that beard works for me in other places when we take things more slowly next time.”

His chest quakes under her fingertips as his laughter fills the room. The birthday dinner can certainly wait until morning because there’s nothing in this world worth endangering the sweetness of this moment.

The problem is, the sweetness of that moment repeated often throughout the morning and then it lasted the entire day. Like catching up on lost time, Y/N and Paul spent the next day wrapped up in each other until they physically couldn’t move anymore.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll send out a search party for us,” Y/N snickers as Paul swipes away all the unread messages on his screen.

“If it was urgent, someone would be at the door by now.” Burying his head in her neck, Paul inhales her deeply only to realize she almost entirely smells like him. Playfully biting at her soft skin right above the collarbone, he licks the teeth marks left behind.

“I’m not even gonna say anything,” she snorts before checking her phone as well. “Well, they’re definitely relentless.”

“Mhmm,” Paul murmurs between feather-light kisses he’s leaving across her chest.

“What dinner are they talking about in the group chat?”

Pausing, Paul looks at her through his lashes. “Fuck. I forgot.”

“Well, now that you remember, fill me in.”

“They want a dinner party for your birthday. I promised them I’d ask you, but then –“

“I screwed your brains out?”

“Something like that,” he grins, “wait, that’s exactly what you did.”

Running her fingers through his hair, she sighs contently. “I think I’d be up for a dinner. Nothing glamorous, no gifts necessary. Just a dinner with friends.”

“I don’t think gifts are optional.”

Chewing on her bottom lip, she inhales deeply. “Fine. Fine. I can handle some gifts. Just promise me you’ll get me out of there if my social battery runs out.”

Pressing his lips in a thin line, Paul furrows his eyebrows.

“We’re hosting it, aren’t we?” She grimaces with realization.

“I think so.”

Staring at the ceiling, her fingers coil around the ends of Paul’s dark hair. “Tell them it’s a go, but you definitely owe me five more orgasms to be okay with hosting.”

Chuckling, he pecks her chin. “It will be my pleasure.”

When the day came, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by noon. She sent Paul to the store at least five times, constantly finding something new she could make for the pack on her phone to the point he confiscated it.

“Maybe I can make the mac n’cheese?” Paul suggests.

Pausing, with her hand on her hip, Y/N snorts. “Sure. We have time for the fire department to show up for dinner too. Might have to make a little extra. Would be rude not to invite them for dinner when they’re already going to be here.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Paul says nothing as he gives her a pointed look. She looks surprisingly put together considering she spent the day cooking. Most times he’d let the comment made go, but this time he was waiting for an apology, one he hoped she’d realize he’s owed.

Tossing the oven mitts on the table, she sighs. “Pasta isn’t your dish, babe. I love you and your cooking, so if you wanna help, pasta is not on the menu. Butttt a potato salad is and I’d really appreciate it if you made it the same way you did last month because I craved it for a week.”

Huffing, he nods. They had ONE incident with pasta and it’s only because he forgot to put the water in the pot before he lost control and shifted. The look on her face when she realized he was a wolf while smoke was bellowing from the kitchen window had him staying away from the kitchen for months on end.

“Sure,” he releases a tired sigh. Instead of turning it into an argument, Paul decided to just keep quiet. This dinner clearly triggered her in a somewhat different way; where he expected depression and doing it all himself with Emily’s tips and tricks, he received an overly anxious perfectionist who was driving him insane. But it’s her birthday…the first one since she lost her dad. It doesn’t matter how old you are when you lose a parent, especially when it’s the last parent you had, there will be a sadness that clings to your heart for a long time after. He remembers losing his mom, and later his dad, and he wasn’t prepared for either death. To this day, Paul wishes he had more time to spend with them, to ask them why.

Why didn’t his mother tell him she was dying of cancer when she decided to send Paul to live with his father? He could have been there with her in the last months of her life, to have used the time she had left better. That’s a luxury they stole from him…the luxury he didn’t have with his dad at all. The only comfort he has is how quick his father’s death was compared to his mother's. Sudden cardiac death takes moments, not excruciatingly painful months as metastatic breast cancer does.

So, yes. Paul has more understanding than Y/N thinks. The first birthday isn’t easy, especially for someone who has a close relationship with their parent. She hasn’t taken a proper breath the whole day, wasting away precious moments they could have spent together.

When he woke up, Paul found their bed empty. He cannot even try to guess how long she’s been up cooking and cleaning, all of the things he planned to do. He wanted to cook for her, for them all. Paul wanted to make this day as easy as possible for her, but he should have known better. Y/N does everything well, but relaxing is not her strongest suit.

“Jacob said he’s bringing a cake,” Y/N breaks the silence. “Apparently, Alice had seen it in her vision and bought it.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah,” she turns to face him. “Is it weird we didn’t invite the Cullens? I kind of feel bad for excluding them.”

Licking his lips, Paul shakes his head. “We’re all perfectly happy to be on friendly terms, but I wouldn’t put a family of vampires in the same room with shapeshifters who’re struggling with old urges right now. You did well.”

“Is it really that bad?” Y/N places the spoon on the counter, approaching Paul with genuine worry reflecting in her eyes. “Are you struggling?”

“Every day,” he admits with a tightlipped smile.

“You never told me,” she realizes. “I really need to do better.”

“It’s fine.”

“I wish it was,” she frowns. “What else do you struggle with?”

Glancing at her, he shrugs meekly. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation now.”

“Why?” Swallowing thickly, Y/N leans on her forearms. When Paul remains silent, she bows her head low. “I’m just gonna ask then. Are you still having those nightmares?”

Noticing his hand stop stirring, Y/N’s eyes widen. Paul’s jaw clenches and her lips part. They’re not out of the woods yet. She’s still marked for death. If anything, her father delayed her death for a little while. There’s not a single part of her that doubts she was the intended victim, but her father managed to protect her the only way he could – by sacrificing his own life.

Flashes of his ripped-open throat have her grabbing onto her stomach as nausea forces bile up her throat. Unable to run to the bathroom, it spills past her mouth into the sink and before she has a chance to take her next breath, Paul’s warm hand is splayed between her shoulder blades and the other is holding her hair back.

“Ugh,” she groans. “Throwing up in the sink is so fucked up,” she tries to laugh only to gag as she senses the smell of stomach acid. Paul lets the water run, running a wet hand across her face and neck. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I throw up thinking about it too.”

Looking up at him, she leans into his chest. “You could have said something.”

“Your dad was killed. It’s not a burden I was looking to share when you were already struggling.”

Inhaling sharply, she wraps her arms around him. “I’m strong enough,” she states. “I promise you can stop treating me like I’ll break if we argue or you have something on your mind. I don’t care how bad it is, I’m here for you.”

“Talking about your death isn’t something I like to do,” Paul pulls back lightly, his scowl playing with her heartstrings. He’s been so strong, but when will he let down his armor again? It can’t be good for him to bottle all this up.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“We’re having people over in two hours,” Paul reminds her.

“And we have made like five dishes already. We can order pizza if they eat everything prepared.”

Paul smiles seeing her relax for the first time that day. This is the Y/N he’s been missing. “The beach?”

“Of course!”

As the sun begins its descent beyond the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, they walk along the shoreline, entwined hands swaying gently like the rhythm of the waves as the ocean breeze plays with their hair. Little is said about the darkness they need to share, deciding to table it for another day. This is meant to be a moment for just the two of them – the couple who fell in love against all odds and chose to love each other every day continuously.

“It’s weird how this was meant to be the place we say our vows in,” she muses.

Pulling her closer, Paul closes his eyes. “Would have been beautiful,” the ache of unrealized dreams carries in his voice.

“I was so ready to call you my husband,” she confesses with a teasing smirk, a glimmer of playful light in her eyes.

Biting his lower lip, his eyes reopen, finding solace in the depth of hers. “I was already calling you my wife that day. It felt right.”

Staring at each other as the sun goes down, they smile longingly as if each glance is a rediscovery of love after the tragedy that stained their happiness.

“Let’s get married,” Y/N declares.

“I’d love to,” Paul places his hands on her hips, lightly pulling her in front of him.

“No, I mean would you like to marry me tonight?”

Caught off guard, Paul coughs as he nearly chokes on his saliva. He grabs her shoulders for support before cupping her cheeks, bending his neck to meet her eyes with furrowed brows. “Are you fucking with me?”

“I’m serious! We can have Sam marry us and then just file the paperwork tomorrow. I mean we have the marriage license; it’s not rocket science.”

Paul, running his tongue across his lips, takes a few bewildered steps to the left. Shaking his head in disbelief, he glances at her repeatedly, searching for any sign of it being a joke. But this isn’t a joke, this is real.

“Okay,” he finally utters, the shock evident in his nod.

“Okay?” Sparked by Paul’s unexpected agreement, a giggle bubbles forth from her, carrying genuine happiness. It’s infectious, dancing through the air, infusing the moment with warmth Paul is certain will linger in his memories.

“Yeah! Let’s get married tonight!”

A/N: Unfortunately Tumblr had been making me suffer regarding the tagging, so I hope these tags work, if not I TRIED. I am also aware it has been a while since I updated, so hope this was good enough of an apology.

@notperfect-justme @sucker4seresin @ahoyyharrington @b-tchymoon @squiddaloo @abbiesxox @kellyashcroft @the-chaotic-cow @xxxjaexxx @captainrogers-19 @bexloxl @adaydreamaway08 @sunsetevergreen @volturiwolf @twihard08 @galacticstxrdust @sorrow-and-bliss @missxmarvelous @locokoca @unstablekay @makhaia @venusdelaroix @avadakadabra93 @tearsforhan @a-marie-a @lendeluxe @seagulls-corner @konigslilslut @rottenstyx @itsmytimetoodream @dreamerwasfound @convolutings @thingfromlove @jennyamanda8 @havecourage-darling @luvr-exe @alittlejudgemental @turningtoclown @emptydoorsandpaintedwindows @marvelmenarebeautiful @bringmethe-world @alitaar @sugasthreedollarkookie @chloe-skywalker @heyheyheyggg @feral-ratatattat-king @fandomrulesall-blog @dcgoddess @lilac-crowns-blog @small-town-wayward-daughter @queenotaku27 @yourqueentp @boreddemigodd @chaosgoblinreblogsthings @felinegrate @lunajay33 @gtfoana @hpboysslut2707 @tpwk-harrystyles @amberpanda99 @let-love-bleeds-red @mo-s-blog @nj01 @myheadsinanotherworld @problematicpastry @witchybabel @llovergirlll @ireadthensuetheauthors @queerrobin @wordacadabra

[slipperyskell]

Man I’m gonna be completely honest: I don’t really care if Monty killed Bonnie or not at this point, but with the evidence we’re given in Ruin (not counting the lil story we get on the gator gondola ride because regardless of what the truth is, that was a [very cute] cover up story for whatever actually happened), there are some things seriously not lining up with Monty being the one to kill him.

First off: Bonnie’s last location was in Gator Golf. How the hell did he end up dying in Bonnie Bowl? Which is what happened, you can see where his head hit the wall + the broken bowling ball around Bonnie’s head, too. And it’s not like he could have been dragged from Gator Golf to Bonnie Bowl - afaik they’re pretty far apart from each other and the cameras would have caught it.

Secondly, and I think this is really important: Monty didn’t get his claws until AFTER Bonnie disappeared. Not to mention that Bonnie had claws to help him play the bass, too. It’s clearly stated that those claws are very good at wrecking shit, but there’s no way something without them could have ripped through Bonnie that easily. That being said, there are very clear claw marks on Bonnie’s chest, with three fingered claws. Personally I don’t think that’s green paint smudged around the injury since paint chipping doesn’t work like that from what I understand, but it might be plastic rub from the casings instead? Or even just dirt tbh - I haven’t played the game myself but looking at pictures/videos of it, it doesn’t really look like that same bright green that Monty or any of the bots are painted with.

Obviously the PeePaw Parts theory doesn’t hold up anymore since none of Bonnie’s Parts are missing, and imo it can be taken either way whether FazEnt actually found Bonnie. They mention him being decommissioned in one of the notes in base game, but that could be a matter of them never finding him and just assuming that’s what happened. It’s implied that ALL of the bots use AI to function, and it’s also implied that Bonnie’s disappearance happened a while before the events of SB, so while I think it’s a little bit of a stretch, it could be that the wet floor bots found him and stayed with him, but being in a hidden room, none of the human employees did.

Despite the Mimic’s prowess, I think it’s very unlikely that it had anything to do with Bonnie’s death as it was pretty clearly stated that it was trapped under the plex for a very long time, before the plex was even built. So unless it he hacked into another animatronic - which is very likely given that’s pretty much the entire plot of SB in the first place - don’t think it had anything to do with it directly (as in it put on Monty’s casings and killed Bonnie as a red herring situation)

Then you have the whole thing with Bonnie’s glowing eyes, which has only really been associated with bots being possessed (and that secret room in SB where you gotta take a picture of all the old cutouts of the gang). Was Bonnie possessed? Did the soul and the AI not merge well and cause him to go mad before taking himself out?

Then we have the whole thing with the MXES security system!!! All that rabbit imagery and the fact that the Glamrocks were a part of that system as well as being under the Mimic’s control, I can’t help but feel like there was some sort of mix-up.

I really don’t know what this all means or where I’m going with this.I think it’s possible that Monty was actually the one who killed him, but only because there really isn’t any evidence (or lack thereof) to say it could have been anyone else. That being said, theres a lot of things not adding up in that story (Bonnie’s last location being gator golf when he’s actually in bonnie bowl + Monty not having his claws installed until AFTER Bonnie’s disappearance being the big ones). If Monty was actually the one to hbe done it, I think it’s possible he may not have done it intentionally/maliciously - I think it’s possible that the mimic had assumed Bonnie was tied to MXES system and killed him through Monty or one of the other animatronics.

It’s really hard to say tbh!!! I’m just more interested in the “why” than the “who” at this point.

[profounddestinyrebel]

Pretty much my ideal dcxdp coexisting world

Danny had all his canon happen before Bruce and the JL started their vigilante careers

Before Bruce was born or Martha and Thomas even got married

Phantom Planet never happened and the world never realized that they were almost dead in the first place (I apologize for mentioning it)

Danny retires after blowing up the portal and designing a new system of gov for the Infinite Realms (why the hell is that a monarchy anyway? Fighting being a way of communicating AND the way of determining a ruler does not make sense so I'll choose the better one)

Danny still visits the Infinite Realms but mostly lives his life

He still has interesting things happen to him but more because he apparently has a curse placed on him than anything else 'may you live in interesting times'

Danny manipulates the curse by getting into situations on purpose and then resolving them without getting attention drawn to his civilian id and normal life

He keeps track of immortals and big names that deal with death magic so as to lower the chances of being summoned

The more powerful the Realm Being the more powerful the summoner has to be to summon them and with how powerful Danny is there aren't many he has to keep an eye on

Ra's has been losing Lazarus water at a steady rate for over a decade but only now has it become a noticeable loss. The day the that he notices is a Very Bad Day for the League of Assassins (the day Danny lets himself get caught satisfies his curse for 2 whole months)

Danny hasn't aged much at all since he left Amity at 17. He's still short but mimics the effects of age with stage makeup and other tools used by actors to look older they actually are. This is how he meets a certain Alfred P. who remains a good friend even though they never really meet in person.

His parents blow themselves up and wipe their house off the map when tinkering with a device designed to lure realm beings to them. Danny isn't really sorry they're gone. He finds out after leaving Amity that he wasn't really their kid and he wasn't even adopted. They made him in their lab while distracted from their obsession with ghosts then completely forgot they had done so when they refocused on ghosts. His growth chamber (terrible name) was coated in ecto which allowed the device to reactivate and allow Danny to finish incubating into a toddler then (suspicious) it mysteriously popped him out before his the fentons noticed the growth chambers success.

His parents never took any notes on the clone experiment out of the house due to it being a (perceived) failure. After going back to their ghost obsession they completely forgot about it so no one knows. Jazz only found after Danny told her and he only found out after growing older and continuing to look less and less like either of his parents.

Danny finds the notes and that's what inspires him to leave Amity, to start looking for his bio parent. The Fenton's had no clue that the clone they grew was Danny. They dismantled the growth chamber when Danny was four (actually two) and never realized that the toddler they adopted was the clone of wonder woman they made. They never said anything to anyone about Danny being adopted so Vlad has no idea that Danny isn't Maddie's child.

Vlad starts to age drastically after the portals are destroyed and Danny figures out that Vlad isn't a halfa after all. He's just a normal ghost who can prey on people like spectra but with an obsession directed at Maddie originally and then Danny. Afterwards Vlad gets shunted off into Walker's prison because of all the toxic and human crimes he's committed among them brainwashing, mind control and mind wiping various wealthy and not so wealthy individuals into giving Vlad their money and companies.

Ellie has to explore the Infinite Realms (literally Infinite though so she's not confined) only because she can't really produce her own ecto. She has to absorb it from her surroundings so she can wander safely all over the Infinite Realms (so long as she calls for help when she gets in over her head) but not the human realms unless she takes a buddy who can produce a steady stream of ecto for her.

Vlad makes Danny his heir so now he's rich enough to travel even after giving all the people Vlad stole from their money back. It turns out that Vlad was good with making more money once he had it.

just Danny being a crptoid for the entire magical community and them being unable to talk about it if they even know of him

while danny runs a NASA and space account where he talks about NASA's recent achievements, newly discovered stars, planets and new alien races that Earth has been in contact with

[midnight-moth]

RainDrop (ofc) - "You'll have to teach me" - Kisses that lead into more then kisses / Soft Kisses becoming heated

Thank you so much for the ask!!! I'm always so happy to write about them.

So I can't write anything short. I knew this, I tried, and I failed. 2321 words of extremely soft Raindrop under the cut.

He sat with his spine curled against the wall, he’d be told he would get back problems doing that. But his head weighed heavy on his neck, he let his posture mimic how he felt. Like he was sinking. 

Rain had only been summoned a few short months ago. And now he was on a bus, 3 weeks deep into the tour. And it all felt like whiplash. There was absolutely no rhythm to be found in this way of life, aside from the one he was meant to provide on stage. And the lack of routine had him at the absolute edge of reason. 

He tried to create little rituals for himself to cope. Having a steaming mug of tea first thing in the morning, going for a walk around the venue for 10 minutes after sound check, polishing his shoes before he put on his uniform, disappearing into the depths of the venue to self soothe with a song on his lips, quietly echoing in an empty dressing room. One of the first pieces of music he’d heard topside that he’d fallen in love with.

And he kept on singing, in a soft baritone barely above a whisper, heedless of the fire ghoul watching from a sliver of space in the door jam. 

Dew was always curious about where he’d disappear to. Not a master in subtlety, he tried asking bluntly. Rain’s only reply was that he just needed a little bit of quiet before the ritual began. The answer being insufficient, he still tried to exercise a modicum of self restraint every time he felt the urge to follow the water ghoul as he slipped away.

He found Rain after all. Not on purpose, he was looking for a washroom as it seemed that the one near the dressing rooms had been locked for a suspiciously long time. Noting the absence of Swiss, Cumulus and Cirrus, he thought maybe he should be offended that he wasn’t invited.

So wandering around in the labyrinth of hallways, he looked for another, but a soft, lilting voice pulled him in another direction. 

Just when you think you've caught her

She glides across the water

She calls for you tonight

To share this moonlight

Dew recognized the song, it was from one of several dozen playlists that Swiss had made and forced them all to listen to. This one from what was apparently post punk new wave. Dew marveled at the way humans managed to micro-organize what seemed like to him, much of the same thing.

You'll flow down her river

She'll ask and you'll give her

He knew he was intruding, but he couldn’t look away. Rain’s eyes were closed, he was sitting on the floor with his back flush against the wall, long legs kicked out in front of him, hands folded in his lap. He kept his voice hushed, giving the song a whispered quality that made Dew feel like it was being sung directly into his ear.

Rain’s eyes were closed, and Dew hoped they’d remain so until the end of the song. He watched his lips form the words, catching small glimpses of his tongue as it pushed past his teeth. His lower lip was shiny, catching the dim light. Probably the lip balm he swiped over his mouth obsessively. Being a water ghoul on dry land was tough, Dew remembered.

Lips like sugar

Sugar kisses

Lips like sugar

Sugar kisses

The words sounded like an invitation. To kiss those pretty pink lips that probably tasted like the strawberry chapstick Dew could smell every time it took a pass across his mouth.It couldn’t have been intentional but Dew nonetheless recalled images of sirens luring with their song and their beauty, and he felt that maybe he was ready to meet his death just for a taste. 

And then Rain’s eyes snapped open as Dew nudged the door and its entrance widened with a creak. 

“Oh, hey, sorry, I - uh - wasn’t spying. I just heard something. And then saw you sitting there, thought maybe - something was wrong.”

“No, I’m -” For some reason, Rain couldn’t bear to lie. Not with the earnest expression on Dew’s face as he waited for an answer.

Dew pushed the door open and decided to be bold, taking a seat across from the water ghoul on the floor. They had never talked, not really. Rain was standoffish and Dew didn’t want to push. 

“You’re what?” Dew asked with uncharacteristic gentleness. 

“I’m just tired. It’s all so overwhelming. And it’s so - lonely.”

“Well, you’re not actually alone. I mean - the way we’re all packed on to that bus, it’s a physical impossibility.”

Rain didn’t have an answer for him. Yes, he was surrounded by ghouls and humans all the time. But he felt like he was separated from all of them by a fogged pane of glass. 

Dew could admit that he wasn’t a wordsmith, and the last thing he wanted to do was make it worse. Dew turned and slid up against the wall, sitting beside the ghoul, he laughed out loud at how nervous he was. No stranger to casual encounters, why was he blushing so ferociously at the thought of just slipping his hand into Rain’s. 

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing, just myself.” Dew huffed, as he reached out and took Rain’s hand in his own, threading their fingers together.

“Why don’t you finish the song? I cut you off.” 

“Oh I - no - I can’t.”

“Sure you can. You were doing just fine before.”

“Yeah, when I was alone.” Rain let his head roll forward, trying to hide in the fabric of his sweater, only in uniform from the waist down.

“I’ll sing with you, come on.” Rain couldn’t know what kind of offer he’d just received. Dew sang in front of no one. He thought his voice was too high, too feminine, not befitting of a Satanic rock band. 

“Ok, you win.”

“Good, you can start where you left off.” Dew squeezed Rain’s hand a little, it had the desired effect, encouraging Rain to continue. 

Lips like sugar

Sugar kisses

Lips like sugar

Sugar kisses

She knows what she knows

I know what she's thinking

Sugar kisses

Sugar kisses

Dew made good on his word, albeit even quieter than Rain, his voice could be heard cutting through the low pitch of Rain’s voice. And it sounded pretty, Rain thought. Not what he’d imagined at all. He found himself lowering his voice just to hear Dew better.

“Hey, not fair. You have to keep singing too.” Dew chided.

“Okay, okay, I will. Just keep going.” Rain could see Dew’s lips curl up at the corners in his peripheral vision. This time he sang just a little bit louder. 

Just when you think she's yours

She's flown to other shores

To laugh at how you break

And melt into this lake

You'll flow down her river

But you'll never give her

Dew found himself not so discreetly craning his neck to watch Rain’s face. Watching his mouth move with the words, as he did from across the room. But now he could see how the inside of his lower lip was a few shades darker, full. The deep cut of the philtrum made his upper lip jut out in a pronounced curve that Dew found he wanted to trace with his tongue. And when Rain’s own slid out from between his teeth, he wanted to trace that too, along the edges, and down the center, and underneath. 

Rain could see Dew watching from the corner of his eye, that he was staring, his eyes sputtering warm light in the dark. He rolled his head to the side, watching Dew’s own pretty mouth form the words. His voice was light and silky. 

Dew’s hand slipped from his, but his voice never wavered. Bringing his thumb to Rain’s lips, he drew it across the lower with a gentle swipe, making Rain slur the words. Dew’s didn’t falter despite how distracted he was.

Lips like sugar

Sugar kisses

Lips like sugar

Sugar kisses

With a secondary swipe, Rain stopped entirely. The room filled with the sound of Dew’s airy voice and his own labored breath. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, an involuntary response to the sensation of something touching them. It grazed against the edge of Dew’s thumb instead. 

He stopped mid-verse with a hushed gasp. Dipping his thumb in a little bit further, Rain opened as Dew slid the pad across the inside of his lower lip. Dew could see Rain’s chest heaving. He jumped when Rain’s hand flew to his wrist.

Some of the fog in his mind cleared as those fingers dug into his skin. “I’m  sorry - I -” His words died in his mouth as Rain’s mouth closed over the rest of his thumb with a gentle suction. Dew froze, wanting to climb into the water ghoul’s lap, but for once completely unsure of where he stood, he stayed glued to the floor.

Rain continued, the look in his eyes equally unsure. So Dew reassured, “Feels so nice.” 

Rain moaned softly as he replaced Dew’s thumb with his middle finger, he let the tip of his tongue drag across the calloused surface. 

Dew’s mouth formed a silent “Oh” as Rain looked down at him, the same nerved expression on his face. 

“You’re so pretty. Your mouth -” Dew found himself shifting awkwardly in his seat as a trail of drool ran down the top of his hand, and Rain released his finger to drag his tongue across it.

“Rain, please - let me kiss you.” Dew knew he sounded desperate, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was pulling that pillowy bottom lip into his mouth to suck on.

“Yeah - okay - I mean - I just” The more Rain stuttered, the more embarrassed he felt. And he already had felt it a little bit, not really sure what he was doing, if it was normal. 

“What’s wrong? We don’t have to.”

“No, I want to - I just - I - don’t. I haven’t. Ever.”

Dew tried to temper the shock in his voice. He knew Rain was young, that he was shy, but that, he did not anticipate. But the shock transformed into something else entirely, knowing he’d be the first one to claim that mouth, and the assumption that there were further conquests to be had.

“It’s okay. Just tell me, this is what you want?”

Rain took another digit into his mouth, whining with a nod. “You’ll have to teach me.” 

Dew slipped his finger out, tracing along Rain’s jaw and leaving behind a thin wet streak of saliva. Almost as tantalizing as his lips, he wanted to know what it would feel like to run his tongue along the bone.

“Just close your eyes.” Dew instructed. Working his way onto his knees, he leaned forward, brushing his lips against Rain’s, before retreating slightly. Rain made an impatient gasp, leaning forward to find them again. First, Dew licked his lips, he wanted to taste that strawberry chapstick.

He raised his mouth to Rain’s once more, this time not pulling away. Rain pressed back, the line of his mouth softening as Dew dotted closed mouth kisses across it, to the corners and back again. 

Rain’s hands found their way inside Dew’s jacket, locking onto his waist, urging him forward. Dew swiped his tongue across Rain’s lower lip, and he let his mouth go slack as Dew licked into his mouth, softly. After a moment of hesitance, Rain pushed his own forward, dipping into the hot space beyond Dew’s teeth. 

Moaning with each pass of Dew’s tongue against his own, he couldn’t stop if he tried, the sound flowed from his throat into Dew’s mouth. Dew’s hands threaded through his hair, scratching softly against his scalp, he wanted more and he wanted closer. 

He broke away with a little choked sound.

“What is it?” Dew huffed, trying to catch his breath.

“Was it - okay?” The way his eyes glistened  in the low light made Dew’s heart ache.

“Oh yes, more than okay. It was perfect. You’re perfect.” Dew knew he was getting carried away but he wasn’t sure if he cared, crushing his lips back against Rain’s, moving as deeply inside his mouth as his jaw could accommodate.

Becoming rushed and messy, until he was dragging his tongue across Rain’s open mouth with a groan. Rain pulling his lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it with slow dregs. Dew doesn’t remember kissing someone like this, maybe ever, not for so long, not with such deliberation. Kissing was always a precursor to something else, but not this time. 

Rain pulled back slightly, yanking on Dew’s shirt. “Want you to come closer.” 

“Yeah, want to be closer.” Dew murmured. He threw one leg over Rain’s lap, sliding forward until they were sternum to sternum. “You taste so good Rainbow.” The pet name made Rain’s lip quiver.

“Your mouth is so warm. Feels so nice. You’re so soft, want to touch you. Just, want you.”

Dew sighed, thinking about all the ways he wanted him right back. “I’m all yours.” 

Dew’s hands wound their way back into his dense waves, Rain’s own drifted back to his waist again, squeezing him tight enough to make him gasp.

“Kiss me, until we have to go.” Rain pleaded.

“I’ll kiss you after too. I’ll kiss you as much as you want. Kiss you all night. When you wake up.”

Rain let out another soft mewl against the side of Dew’s face. “Promise?”

“Yes.” Dew replied. And he meant it. 

Dew kissed  him until his lips were swollen and bitten and bruised. Rain couldn’t stop pressing his fingers to them for the rest of the night. The ghost of Dew’s lips still on his own, he couldn’t wait to add so much of this to his routine.

[saintobio]

LOST WORLD

“when the end approaches, but the apocalypse is long lived.”

pairing. satoru gojou, reader

genre. angst, post apocalypse au

warnings. unedited, gore, death, zombies infectious diseases

Do you remember what life was before Satoru Gojou?

It was sad. Miserable. Pathetic in every sense. The world had no meaning, and existing felt like a punishment rather than a privilege. The things you were doing had no purpose. They were repetitive, soulless, and depressing. Each time you’d find yourself staring outside of the window, the skies were becoming gloomier. The miasma of decay was getting thicker. There was scarcity in food and water. Yet, there was no option to go outside of your abandoned home when an eerie fog with the acrid smell of rotting flesh and blood were everywhere haunting you.

At one point, rather than trying to survive in a world that no longer welcomed you, you believed it would have been easier to just perish. Die at long last just like everyone else you knew. The people who once had a family, a lover, a pet, and a friend—they used to be people like you. Alive and breathing under your warm skin and fully-functioning set of human organs. But now, they were the opposite of what you once knew. They had become ghastly, tottering creatures looking at you with their frenzied, colorless eyes, and their putrid, saliva-filled mouths. In fact, when a couple of them managed to break into your home, staggering to chase you around the house with the rabid eagerness to masticate on your innards, you thought of finally just letting things be. After all, no one was left. You were probably the only living being in an area full of decomposing, white-blanched corpses. With their wretched appearance and fetid smell, the last bits of humor inside of you wanted to go along and mimic their series of raspy growls. You were dying, anyway. Finally.

You knew you were dying. You anticipated how their disease would soon be inching its way into your flesh.

That, with no resistance, you would let yourself be one of them.

That was your plan. That was… until every single zombie in your vicinity was sniped with a shotgun. You could barely move as bits of flesh, blood, and sinew flew all over the place. Their skulls—busted. Their entrails—falling out. You would have screamed in disgust after seeing maggots crawl out of their eyes, but then your eyes caught sight of the hero who saved the poor damsel in distress. His arctic white hair, electric blue eyes, and porcelain skin. There was no sign of a single disease in his body.

Damn. How could one person shoot a shotgun with such precision and accuracy? But more importantly, how much of a cliche was it for him to show up and be your savior at the brink of your death?

“Satoru Gojou,” he’d easily introduced himself, pulling his makeshift mask down while standing tall behind the army of foul-smelling beasts that he just massacred. What a cool man. What a dream. What a… what a… hold on, wasn’t he too good to be true?

“I must be dead,” you even joked at the time despite your struggle to catch your breath, “There’s no way a random guy would just come up here and save me like this.”

One smirk from him was all it took to completely win you over. “You don’t look dead to me.” And then a hand to help you up. “Come on, we gotta leave this place.”

And so you did. You were brought to a safe haven that you never thought existed. You were acquainted with people who had a beating heart and an uninfected brain. You were given the golden ticket to cohabit with them in a secured camp and an acceptable living condition. Everything was rationed, but you had no right to ask for much in a situation like that. All you could offer was your gratefulness, and every time you saw your godly, angel-faced hero, you could not help but think of how much you owe your living life to him.

So much so that you would think about ways to approach him without becoming a bother. He was your typical popular guy, expected by the others to rescue their lives. You were just one of the many. He had the virtue of a soldier, ready for war just to make sure that his people were safe and sound. Maybe he actually was in the army before, which could explain the reason for his expertise in guns and survival. There was no way for you to know when you barely had the chance to talk to him, and sincerely thank him at the very least, for saving your life when you almost lost it.

But then, he must have heard the same thing from the countless women who followed his tail each time he arrived back in the camp. The ladies would scramble on their feet just to make sure that they were tending to his needs; feeding him warm meals, treating his wounds, making him laugh.

You see, crushing on a stranger was a ridiculous idea, especially in the middle of an apocalyptic world. You kept that thought in your head as you stepped through a pile of mud, cursing under your breath while continuing towards the pathway to the bonfire. No, you didn’t make it there. Because someone had smoothly pulled you by the belt loop, dragging you behind the tree before he revealed his most admiring self.

“S-Satoru,” you stammered without a reason. Or maybe you did have a reason. He was good-looking enough that your thoughts were becoming jumbled. A hot mess, truly, with his mop of white hair and his piercing blue eyes. Not to mention his parted, pink lips and his slightly exposed toned chest.

“You’re really out here pretending I don’t exist, huh?” There was that playful tone and that goddamned attractive smirk. With his hand moving to your lower back and his forearm resting on the trunk of the tree, you almost let out a swoon. “I was waiting for you to approach me.”

You turned your face away a little, only to a certain degree so he wouldn’t notice the heat on your cheeks. “That’s funny ‘cause… since that day, I’ve actually been waiting, too.”

“Hmm?” he tilted his head and deepened his gaze.

“I mean, waiting for an opportunity,” you clarified, releasing an awkward chuckle, “to talk to you and thank you. You’re just always surrounded by people, so…”

He straightened his posture as he pulled away and began nodding his head, as if he was connecting the dots in his head. “You can always walk up to me. Anytime,” he assured, “I’d actually love to know you more.”

You knew what everyone else might be thinking; ‘Seriously? You’re having a love affair in this situation?’

Well, if you were going to meet death, anyway, why should you settle being a miserable, lonely woman?

“You’re a miserable, lonely woman,” spoke one of the survivors in your cabin, Meredith, glaring at you with her arms crossed across your bunker. “That, or you just truly lost it.”

While she was laughing and moving her index finger in circles beside her head, the other survivor was decent enough to shush her, telling her to stop throwing insults towards you. “Quit doing that. She needs time to adjust,” said Shoko Ieiri, “It’s traumatizing out there, you know?”

“Yeah, but she still needs to help us with some errands here! We’re not living here for free. We have duties. Ugh… I’m so sick of cleaning the nasty toilets.”

“She’ll come around. Be patient with her.”

“She’s been here for two months! She can’t just stay in her bunker all day and do nothing!”

“Meredith—”

“Hey, lunatic!” her amber eyes bore into you. “Wake the fuck up and get your ass workin’. If you really wanna survive, you need to do your job.”

You took a deep breath and sighed. “Can I… Can I see Satoru first?”

Meredith let out a groan. “Here we go again.”

“Wh-Why?” you asked, frantically. “I just… I wanna talk to him. I wanna thank him for saving me.”

This time, it was Ieiri who sat at the corner of your bed, patting your back in a soothing motion. “Satoru is…” she hesitated. “He’s not here, Y/N. He never was.”

As if lightning struck your entire body. “What do you mean? What do you—? He was here. He was just talking to me last night!”

“I know, I know.” Ieiri sent you a look of sympathy. Sympathy that you didn’t really ask for. “I understand it’s been a difficult time. It’s been a really traumatizing experience, but trust me, everything’s going to be okay.”

You held onto her arms as tears pooled your eyes. All those voices in your head, the pain in your heart… “S-Stop. What are you saying, Ieiri? He was… He was with me.”

“He’s dead,” she said the very words you refused to hear. “He didn’t survive the first wave of zombies that infested our town.”

“But…” You shook your head in hard refusal. “But he was there, he rescued me.”

“It was Suguru who did,” Ieiri confirmed, reaching what appears to be a bottle of Fanapt pills under your pillow. “Satoru’s not with us anymore. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for your loss.”

[xxnghtclls]

Permission

Chapter 18

(Chapter 17; Chapter 19)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

A Curse

You wake up to the soft crackling of the flames in front of you. Sukuna must’ve lit it back on soon after you fell asleep, because otherwise you probably would have frozen to death. It’s not dark anymore. A grey blue colour and fog looms through the woods. It must be early in the morning. You look to your left, where Sukuna sat last night. He’s not there. You get up and take look around. Locking your eyes with a trail of his footsteps in the snow, your eyes wander along, until you see him. You almost didn’t because he put on the upper part of his white kimono, making him almost vanish between the snow and trees.

Sukuna walks slowly in circles, almost looking thoughtful. A lot has happened yesterday. Both of you went through a ton of emotions. At least, you think he did, too. You watch him for a while. The way he moves through the snow and trees seems so graceful. Your heart drops, as you see him being beautiful like that. He hurt you and many others and yet, you don’t stop to be fascinated by him, heart being engulfed by him. The way he let you embrace him last night, it makes you think, if he ever let others do this before. You didn’t even ask him for permission and he let it happen. Did he feel the same as you in that moment? Was the clench of his jaw not a sign of annoyance but of something you don’t know yet? You can’t help but to think that this moment between the both of you was exceptional. Special.

You don’t try to get your hopes up, because you remember, that the kitchen maid once told you, that girls ran away before. However, she didn’t mention him going after them. And yet, he’s still here with you.

Why?

You sigh, before your tummy rumbles audibly. Hunger spreads in your guts.

Remembering the mochi that you put in your cleavage, you pull the fabric back, to see if they’re still intact or smashed into into mush.

Mush.

Must’ve happened when he pinned you down, when he caught you.

Asshole.

You sigh a second time, before you sit down in front of the fire. Gently you start to scratch the remains of the mochi from your skin and nibble the bits and pieces off your finger. While you’re busy with your breakfast, you hear Sukuna’s footsteps approaching.

Stopping right next to you, you try your best to ignore him. Despite your hopeful thoughts earlier, you don’t want to give in to him too soon. He does make it easy for you, though. The way his stare bores into you and possibly your cleavage starts to annoy you. As your eyes meet, he musters you, eyes you up and down with a frown on his face.

“What?“ you ask annoyed, chewing a bit of mochi between your teeth.

“Nothing.” he grumbles, turning around to sit back on the log.

You turn back to your fingers. Licking, nibbling and biting the sticky texture off your skin. You still feel his stare.

Nothing, you mimic him mockingly him in your head, while you can’t suppress the mocking in your face. He keeps staring, not saying anything and it starts to piss you off.

“What?” you raise your voice, looking back to him.

“You look like a homeless kitten, gnawing that stuff off your fingers.” he mumbles, his head resting on one of his hands, leaning on his thigh.

That fucking nickname.

“Well, I am homeless.” you roll your eyes at him, suppressing your anger. He chuckles, not answering, as you keep eating.

“You hungry?” you ask him, without looking at him.

“I am.” he responds. You lick your thumb.

“Well, I guess you had your chance last night.” you say arrogantly, being busy with your fingers.

“Oh yeah? What happened?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. You pause. The last piece of mochi goes down your throat. You put your cleavage back into position, pat it smooth and turn to him.

“Nothing.” you say emotionless. He smirks right back at you.

This fucking smirk.

He knows, that he still has a grip on you and it annoys you, making you regret showing him so much affection last night. However, your cramps didn’t come back. Your plan worked. So you convince yourself that you only used him to get you off for this purpose. And you know that’s a lie.

You still feel blood coming out of your cunt, but not as much as before. It’s probably going to stop soon. However, the need for some personal hygiene grows and grows.

You get up and walk past Sukuna, your feet entering the snow. Pulling back your kimono at the slit, you crouch down, taking a handful of fresh snow and rub it between your hands to get your hands somewhat clean of your saliva. Then you take another handful and rub it against your inner thighs. It stings. Melting against the heat of your skin, painting it red, it washes off the blood that’s been sticking there.

“That’s my clever little kitten.” you hear him purring behind your back.

Hearing it almost makes you furious. You know, he wants to provoke you and it works. His arrogant way of calling you that only reminds you of the time he thought he could do anything to anyone. Not caring about anything or anyone. Break your heart and mind, acting however he pleased. It pisses you off. You shoot back up and walk up to him. Leaning into his personal space, you give him your best angry look.

“I’m not your little kitten anymore.” you glare at him. He smirks at your anger.

“I am pleased to hear that you once was.” he coos.

“You’re so full of yourself, that you probably can’t even remember my name, considering how many cunts you had in your chambers.” you spit back. He clenches his jaw while listening to you.

“Most names are not worth remembering.” he squints his eyes at you.

“Asshole!” your insult only makes his smirk grow.

“Asshole?” he raises his eyebrow at you, before he leans in. “Mhhm I remember yours so well. Sucking in my thumbs and cock. So needy. So willing. Like a bitch in heat.” he purrs. The sudden change of topic sends a blush to your face that makes your blood boiling. “Same goes for your lil’ cunt. Didn’t have such a tight, lecherous woman in a long time.”

Woman.

Your breath hitches as you hear him calling you that. His little speech makes you angry and horny and you hate it.

“Remembering holes, not names. Interesting words, fitting the mouth of the most lecherous man I know.” you spit back. He chuckles.

“Oh yeah?” he bites his bottom lip “Yet you were the one begging.” You huff in response, as you watch him muster your face, before you lean to his ear.

“Let me make you mine, you said” you repeat his words in a whisper. “Sounding so needy yourself.”, you coo arrogantly, before leaning back, to glare into his eyes. His lip twitches, a rumble moves through his chest, before he chuckles deeply.

“You should watch that mouth. That’s not how you talk to your King.” he whispers, his eyes fixated to your lips once again.

“You’re not my King.” you whisper back. He pauses, eyes shooting back up to look into yours.

“Let’s fuck.” he breathes.

His responds mutes you, his arrogant boldness makes you wet immediately. Heart is pounding in your chest and cunt, but you can’t let him win.

“So needy.” you breathe back, as you squint your eyes at him. He cocks his eyebrow at you, as you straighten your back, leaning away from him, as a grin spreads on his lips. With an aching cunt, you turn around, leaving him there sitting on the log. The pool of wetness between your folds smears on your inner thighs, as you walk around a bit to calm your nerves. Knowing he can smell you, makes you ask yourself if you really did win, but in a way, you did. Walking next to the footsteps he printed into the snow earlier, you smile to yourself. Thinking how thick and throbbing his balls must be since last night and how you denied him any satisfaction right now, it makes you so proud.

A crack in the woods interrupts your thoughts. You look up. Something moves between the trees. You can’t hear anything except the movements. Seeing only a shadow that’s moving within he fog.

Is it another one of those beasts?

“Silence” he whispers, before you can voice your question. Sukuna appeared right next to you, bowed down to your level, eyes fixated between the trees.

So fast and silent.

You look at him in confusion, notice that he undressed the upper part of his kimono. Sukuna keeps staring between the trees, when suddenly a hand crawls up on the back of your neck, holding you in position. He nudges his chin forward, motioning you to look into the same direction. Your eyes follow his gaze

“Do you see it?” he whispers, while you feel him leaning into you, stopping only an inch apart from your face. You squint your eyes to see better and in the blink of an eye, you see it.

A stag. Moving gracefully between the trees.

“Yes” you breathe. After a moment you turn your head back to Sukuna, only to catch him staring at you. He chuckles at the look on your face, before he straightens his back, turning his gaze to the stag. Angling his upper body into your direction, he lifts his left arm right in front of him, curls his ring and pinkie finger while he stretches out his thumb, index and middle finger, the inside of his hand facing to his left. The hand on your neck retreats and folds itself in front of his shoulder.

You remember.

The light of a flame lights up your face, as a fire arrow appears at his hands. You muster him, standing so tall next to you, his biceps flexing, his chest slowly falling and rising, his abs tensing. A soft breeze flows through his hair, as his gaze grows more concentrated. So intimidating, yet so majestic.

Shoot.

The flames leave Sukunas hands and with a low swish through the air, it pierces right into the neck of the stag with a dull impact. Your breath hitches at the sight.

Dead.

Without a word, Sukuna walks into the direction of the animal. You stay where you are, watching the predator get its prey. Another cold breeze flows through the air, as you watch the muscles on his back move with every step he takes, walking through the snow. Sukuna crouches down to heave the dead body up on his shoulders. So effortlessly. As soon as he turns around, you do as well, slowly walking back to your spot in front of the fire. Sitting down cross legged, you stare into the flames.

With a loud thump Sukuna drops the dead stag against the log. The sound sends a shiver up your spine. It’s not like you don’t eat meat. It’s the way he killed it without hesitation, that stresses you. He said he’s hungry, yet you didn’t expect him killing the first thing that comes into his sight. Especially since all he eats is human flesh. Women. You still thought his next meal might be you.

“Hand me the dagger, kitten.” you hear him say. It sits right beside you, still buried in the dirt. You don’t comply.

Enough.

An annoyed smack of lips reaches your ears, as you hear him stand up.

“Bitch.” he curses under his breath. You didn’t expect that. Hearing him call you that makes you sad. Thinking he doesn’t remember your name makes you sad. This whole banter with him tires you. You’re not a person that seeks conflict, you rather run from it. But he didn’t let you.

A sting reaches your ears as he pulls the dagger out of the dirt.

You feel caged. Caged in the wilderness of this forest.

Seeing him move the dirty blade through the snow, cleaning it up, you remember that you didn’t drink anything since yesterday.

You feel tired. Dehydrated. Hungry.

The hormones of your period surely put the cherry on top.

Sukuna starts to cut through the fur of the animal, cutting, ripping, tearing. The sounds remind you of the ones six years ago. A metallic, tangy smell crawls up your nose.

The day goes on. You keep sitting in front of the fire, listening to Sukuna’s butchering. Sometimes you even doze off and wake up again, only to hear him still being at it. Crows shout and fly through the trees sometimes, making you remember, that in this wilderness, there is still more living, than just you and him. With the only exception, that they are free and you’re not. Soon it grows dark. That’s how December days are. Short and cold.

In the light of the fire, you peek to Sukuna. The slabs of meat he cut off the stag lay in the snow next to the log, the remains almost being only bones now. He cut it so clean, like someone who does it on a daily basis. Sukuna himself is sitting on the fur of the stag, that he placed upon the log, staring into the flames. Slowly he munches on a tiny piece of meat, holding it on his upper left hand. He doesn’t notice your glance. Or ignores it. His bloody hands resting on his thighs, holding his dagger in his bottom left hand, his bottom right hand fiddling with its blade. In his upper right hand, he holds another piece of meat.

You stare at him until he shortly peeks into your direction, too.

“What?” he mumbles, while he continues munching.

“Nothing.” you say in a raspy voice, not having spoken in hours.

A pause.

“I thought you only eat women.” you add.

“This doesn’t taste as good as you.” he mumbles, not moving his gaze from the flames. A soft huff escapes your nose, finding his answer funny and oppressive at the same time. Feeling empty, you turn your gaze back to the flames, too.

“Maybe you should eat me then.” you whisper. The crackle of the fire between the both of you. A few minutes pass. He doesn’t answer and you take it as a “no”. Your heart grows desperate. You can’t run but can’t stay either. It hurts so much.

“I mean it. Why are you still here with me?” your voice so tired.

“I told you.” he grumbles.

“No, you didn’t. You won’t let me run, but don’t take me back to the shrine either. I feel safe with you, but not at all at the same time. I feel like I’m trapped in a void. Is that your idea of reminding me of my place?” your voice calm.

“It’s your punishment for leaving it.” he turns his gaze to you.

“You made me leave.” you look back up to him. “You fuck and eat however and whoever you please, calling yourself King. So why do you care? It’s not like you’re lonely. It’s not like you have a void in your heart to fill. You have everything you want.” your voice resigns.

His jaw clenches at what you say, eyes fleeing from yours and seek the flames in front of him. Sukuna responds with a huff, but remains silent otherwise.

It‘s no use.

A few minutes pass before he throws a piece of meat into your direction. It lands right next to you. It’s no secret that you must be hungry. Starving in fact. However, you won’t accept his offer. Not yet at least. After a while, he stands up, takes the carcass by the horns and drags it into the darkness.

You grab the chance and take the slap of meat into your hands, eat it raw and hastily. No time to cook it in the fire. The bloody taste hits your tongue, as your teeth cut right through the meat. A familiar feeling, after Sukuna made you eat half of that heart. Some energy and self confidence crawls back into your mind, as you notice your mouth and hands being smeared with blood. However, the thirst knocks on your throat. You need water.

Sukuna didn’t come back yet. It’s been a few minutes. You get up and look around if you see him somewhere, but it’s only darkness. Taking a burning piece of wood out of the fireplace, you start to look for his footsteps in the snow. You see the trail the carcass left in it and you slowly follow it, leaving the fireplace behind you. For a few minutes you walk next to the trail, until you suddenly hear a noise to your left. The sound of water flowing.

A stream maybe?

You hesitate, unsure if you should follow the sound. The trail keeps going straight ahead. He’s gonna be pissed, if he knows you wandered off by yourself.

No. I need water.

You take the turn to your left and carefully walk into the direction of the sound. The ground beneath you grows more rocky, you fight hard not to slip. After a while the light of the moon hits your eyes again, the crowns of the trees open up. In the moonlight, you can see a waterfall rushing down a hill. It lands into a hot spring, like in the shrine, just bigger.

It’s such a beautiful sight for you, calms you. Doesn’t remind you that you’re in a dark forest at all.

You step right onto the edge of water, dipping your fingers in. It’s warm. Laying down the burning wood, you turn around to check if you’re still alone. Cold fingers fiddling with the cords and fabric of your kimono, you undress yourself. Suddenly a crack. You stop, trying to calm your breathing, looking around in the darkness.

Nothing.

Already being naked and nowhere to go anyway, you decide to walk into the warm water. It feels so good. Finally being embraced in warmth, you also feel clean again, washing off the blood, saliva and everything else that’s stuck to your skin. Quietly hopping through the water, until you reach the waterfall. Standing right in front of it, you open your mouth. Droplets of water fall into it, them being colder, than the water you’re standing in. It tickles your tongue and lips and you start to giggle, before you scratch your teeth along them to ease the sensation. You raise your folded hands, to catch some water in them. The rushing waterfall is so loud, you can’t hear anything else. You’re just with yourself and right now, it makes you happy. Drinking the water you caught in your hands, you feel so much better. Makes you feel alive again. Taking a step further, you let the waterfall rush down onto your head and shoulders. It feels heavy and you start to feel more relaxed but it starts to grow cold on you. Hopping out of the waterfall area, you dive into the warmth below you.

Your face tingles from the heat that embraces you and soon you dive up again. Combing your fingers through your hair, you ask yourself, if Sukuna already noticed your absence. Your eyes wander to the burning wood you left at the rim of the spring. It still lights up the place where you left it. Nothing is to be seen elsewhere. You breathe deeply, start to relax more. Being submerged up to your chin, you close your eyes even. Leaning back a bit, resting the back of your head into the water, a melody crawls into your mind. You don’t remember the time you heard it, but the melody itself becomes more clear and clear. Feeling as free as ever, you start to quietly hum it. It’s a beautiful melody, makes your heart feel safe and sound. You hum and hum, feeling your vocal cords vibrate, until after a while, you remember.

Sukuna.

Your eyes rip open, as you remember Sukuna humming the exact same melody when you first followed him into the hot springs. Yanking your head back forward again, your breath hitches, as you stare into the eyes of the person your mind can’t forget. He’s here, right in front of your face. His hair wet, as if he just dived back up, being submerged up to his chin as well.

Your eyes widen, as you realise, that you didn’t hear or notice him at all. His eyes look so soft, not angry, a sight you didn’t see on him in a long time. You recognise the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. Seeing them reminds you of how much you missed them, how much you missed them being meant for you. A sight, that turns your heart soft, as it remembers you of better times. When you felt like being truly his. You stare back into his eyes, the water below your nose gently rippling from your breath hitting its surface. He looks so pretty in the moonlight, his red orbs softly glowing at yours. Small pearls of water dripping off strands of his hair.

“You’re the first one who remembers it correctly.” he whispers.

“It’s beautiful.” you breathe back.

“Beautiful…” he repeats quietly, as if it’s a long forgotten word for him. “Yes.” he concludes, mustering your face. His stare makes you nervous, making your eyes flee from his.

“How long have you known it?” you say as you watch the moonlights reflection in the water.

“A lifetime.” his voice as smooth as silk.

You frown, confused eyes find their way back into his.

“You don’t look like a grandpa to me.” you say as innocent as a child. Sukuna frowns at your answer, before his lips start to curl and a laughter bursts out of his lungs. His loud voice even overpowers the waterfall and you’re startled, crawling closer to him, shushing his lips with your fingers.

“Shhhh” you say panicked, looking around making sure no beasts are coming near you. He chuckles once again, still not over the grandpa thing. After a minute, he calms down.

“Those beasts will come for us.” you whisper.

“Those curses won’t come for us.” he mouths against your fingers. Your breath hitches as you feel his lips move against the sensitive skin. Something clicks in you.

King of Curses.

You remember hearing this title the first time you heard his name. It all makes sense now.

“A curse…” you repeat quietly, as if it’s a long forgotton word for you. “Yes.” you muster his face, as you finally realise that he is one of them. A curse on the outside and inside, a curse in his actions and his mind.

And a curse that took your heart.

King of Curses. The most powerful one.

“You cursed me.” you add quietly. His lips gently push against your fingers, before they grow into a smirk. “That’s why you can’t let me go.” you whisper.

[awoogayanderes]

OUR HEARTS ARE NEVER MEANT TO BE

➪ pairing : unrequited akutagawa x reader, implied relationship with dazai and reader

➪ sypnosis : akutagawa knows the line he’s not supposed to cross, but it’s difficult when you’re so kind

➪ other notes : just imagine being the sweet s/o of the infamous dazai only for his subordinate to look up at you when you’re the first person to show him love, ALSO AKU IS OOC !!! even tho i love this boy he’s so hard to write for

he knows it’s wrong to look at you like this. he knows that that you will never be with him. so why does his heart beat faster when he’s with you ? why does he feel calmer when you’re with him on a mission ? why does he feel like this at all, especially for his mentor’s partner…

maybe it was your sweet temper despite his initial behavior towards you. he wanted to loathe you, he wanted to hate you, why did you have dazai’s approval and he didn’t ? yet part of him knew that he couldn’t just despise you, but why ? he asked himself that question for months when you were always kind to him.

he didn’t know how you ended up in the mafia, wondering how other mafiosos didn’t eat you up like stray dogs and a piece of meat. but he did find out you were a skilled swordsman, quick on your feet as you glided to kill. the battlefield was your playground, now realizing why you were a force to be reckoned with.

you weren’t just kind to him because you pitied him, you were kind to everyone, even giving your enemies a painless death. coincidentally that’s what also caught dazai’s attention. like mentor like subordinate, you could say, not that akutagawa had someone else to take after with mimic behavior.

over several months you got to know akutagawa, familiarizing yourself with the boy. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel bad for everything he’s already gone through. maybe that’s why you took after him when dazai wasn’t around, though you’d never say that out loud.

now both of you were on a small hill watching as the sun slowly set on yokohama. you were sitting on the ground, your knees close to your chest as akutagawa stood behind you leaning next to a tree, coughing into his hand a few times. it was quiet, a comfortable silence that helped both of you bond in an odd way.

“isn’t it beautiful,” you suddenly said, snapping akutagawa out of his thoughts. he shortly hummed, not giving a conclusive answer. “come sit next to me,” you said, patting the spot next to you on the grass, turning around to look at him, softly smiling. he hesitated but softly sighed and sat down next to you.

it was comical how two dangerous mafiosos were now sitting on a hill watching the sunset like old friends. akutagawa sat stiffly, looking ahead as the sky bursts with colors. “ryūnosuke,” you say, akutagawa’s face heating up as you use his first name, something he entrusted to you not long ago.

“why did you join the mafia,” you ask curiously. you knew why, your boyfriend told you but you wanted the perspective of the boy next to you. “to become stronger,” he bluntly said. “even though you’re under someone’s wings?” he stiffens up at that statement, staying silent.

“ryū,” you say, a nickname you gave him the same day he introduced his first name to you. he looks at you, feeling his eyes soften. “you’re going to have to make your own decisions one day, whether you like it or not,” your words have some heft to them despite your voice remaining soft, even softer than usual.

he doesn’t know what to say. instead he just looks at you, soaking in your appearance. “osamu would kill you if he saw this,” you say chuckling and akutagawa can’t help but feel his eye twitch as you say dazai’s first name with such sweetness. but your words start sinking in. he knows you know what he thinks. was he this obvious or were you just very observant ?

“you do know we’re not meant to be right,” you continue the one sided conversation, looking at the boy next to you as he continues to stare at you. “i knew that already, i won’t try anything,” he speaks for the first time in a while. you softly smile at him. with that, the conversation concludes with both of you silently watching as the colors slowly fade away as the moon rises.

this situation is almost comforting to him, knowing that his overthinking was shut down. your gentle rejection spared him humiliation, both of you knowing that you’re never meant to be together. instead, you’ll continue your kindness as he absorbs it like a sponge. such a bittersweet moment, isn’t it ?