#Drabble for the Mannequin

[mannequinentity]

"Guys, women and the gays, and me myself included." He points to himself as if the audience is stupid, or slow minded with their wheels malfunctioning their brain stems. "We all dearly love a good man, a handsome man, a muscle man, a handsome muscle man. Or a beautiful, twink man. Whatever or how much you want their arms to be twig or boulder sized. I don't care. Your life, your choices."

Reiterating his statement before continuing, clearing his throat to wash away the Sahara Desert in there. "What am i trying to say is - if you find your lover in life to be a rat. No, that's an insult to rats. A feral rabbit fucking all the others rabbits in the world. Yes, let's go with that. I insist on getting a sledgehammer."

He pulled one out of his ass. "And what you do is - a solution is to give your husband the best treatment you can afford. What's a jolly life without satisfying your jolly looking fellow? HA HA!"

Anyways...

"Grab a belt, those elastic ones, they cost about sixty dollars I would say? and some sleeping pills to knock the fucker out. If you can't tie a knot, why are you here? You have to tie those tight ends on his limbs anyways. And when you everything's settled, you-"

He lifted the sledgehammer above his head and slammed it against a watermelon in front of him.

"FUCKING SMASH HIS BALLS

OVER *thud*

OVER *thud*

OVER *thud*

AND OVER!" *THUD*

Watermelon was meshed meat with some of the contents sprayed against his face. "So, any questions?"

[patchwork-crow-writes]

86 - A Taste Of Sugar

He's all too eager to please, earnest to an almost off-putting degree. It's like he was designed by committee, to be as sickly-sweet as sweet can be, like the most cloying, creamy white chocolate - an acquired taste, best sampled sparingly.

And yet what scares you about him most is not that he looks uncannily like your idle doodles from your younger years, or the way he stands just a little too close to you when he talks; it's that his seemingly ironclad convictions melt like butterscotch the instant you cross them.

You put him to the test and he fails it with flying colours, striking at his own likeness just because you asked him to. You hug him afterwards, curious to see if he'll let you - it doesn't occur to you until later what kind of lesson he might take from this.

It would be so easy, you realise, to train him upon the trellis of your will, to twist the stem of this delicate flower into any shape you please. Pull upon his strings and watch him obey, wanton power thrilling through your strained nerves. Unadorned adulation oozes from his every pore as he hangs on your words; dewdrops clinging to an overripe apple, eager for the teeth that will break its flesh.

It's a heady concoction, not to your usual taste... but sometimes you catch yourself wondering, and your mouth runs dry. What could one sip hurt, after all? Because that's what everyone wants, isn't it - a chance to be loved, even if as nothing more than a deity...?

But you already know that won't be enough - soon you'd come back for the entire pie, gorging yourself to vomitous ruin again and again, taking and taking until nothing remains...

You never could stop once you started on something, after all...

______________________________

The Dark Menagerie No. 86

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[coff33andb00ks]

vivvvv how about…

11 + 24 with lando 😊

"It's impossible to get rid of me."/"Are you awake or asleep?"

driver + number = drabble <3

maddie babe ily

warnings: disgusting perverted amount of fluff

Lando Norris is, in his own words, a little bitch.

Granted, he said those words when he was drunk and a moth flew too close to his face, but you'll never let him forget that he uttered them.

Nor will you let him forget you have video of him screaming in terror and running straight into the glass door of the balcony to get away from the moth.

It's what your friendship is based on: embarrassing moments that the other finds hilarious but no one else would understand. Like the time you spent three minutes telling a store mannequin what you were looking for, or the time Lando locked himself out of his apartment at four in the morning. He has a tendency of doing that, so much so that when it happens he shows up at your place.

Like he is now, in his joggers and slides, without his wallet or phone, smiling sheepishly at you like it isn't three a.m.

"Don't you have other friends," you grumble, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.

"None that'll answer the door this late," he sighs.

You sigh and step back to let him in, pretending to be unaffected by the scent of him freshly showered. "How'd it happen?"

"Took out the trash and thought I had my key in my pocket." He looks entirely too comfortable in your tiny apartment, shirtless and his hair still damp.

Nodding, you shuffle to your bedroom to collect the spare key to his place. That he'd given to you so casually, like it was a normal thing for him to hand out an extra key, when you knew it wasn't because even Fewtrell didn't have a spare key back when Lando lived in England still.

"C'mon, you know I'll need it. Besides, you're the only one I trust to have it." He dropped the key - attached to a Snoopy keychain that you remember him buying in Vegas - into your purse. "There. Now it's impossible to get rid of me."

As if you'd ever want to.

He follows you into the bedroom and you're painfully aware of your unmade bed and the clothes you'd left on the floor. Which is ridiculous, because it's Lando, he's been in your bedroom before, he's seen your dirty underwear–

Just not at three in the morning...

"Fuck," you mutter, turning your purse upside down to empty it onto the dresser. The essentials of your life spill out, lip gloss and gum and wallet and keys - but not Lando's because that one stays on its Snoopy keychain it's special - and hand sanitizer and notepad and six pens and tissues and the ticket stub from the movie he took you to see two weeks ago and a friendship bracelet and two pads. Everything but his key.

"Don't tell me you've lost it," he says.

You scoff at the idea. You may have lost your mind, your sanity, and sometimes your wallet, but you'd never lose his key. Your sleepy mind scrambles. Two weeks ago you pulled it to give to him and–

"Oh shit it's at my place," he mumbles, clapping a hand over his face.

"Lando!" you groan, sweeping everything back into your purse.

He's sorry, you're annoyed, and after bickering uselessly you tell him to just go to bed, he can get his superintendent to let him in in the morning.

It's not unusual to share a bed with him. Lando's a clingy, touchy feely person, half the time you travel with him he ends up taking you into staying in his room. Ostensibly because he likes to talk but really because he wants to cuddle.

"You awake?" he whispers in the darkness. "Or asleep?"

You don't answer, because you know he's about to say something profoundly sweet or incredibly stupid.

He presses his face into your hair and sighs, much like an exhausted dog finally settling down for a good sleep. "I do it on purpose sometimes," he whispers. "Cuz I sleep better with you than when I'm alone."

As confessions go it's probably your favorite. But you have to pretend you don't hear it. You're smiling though, and you let out a sleepy little hum. And you feel him smile.

[raven-dor]

bucky tries a tiktok trend? - drabble #1

inspired from that one tiktok trend where the girls put a broom through their boyfriends sleeves to test their 'posture' but in reality they just tickle them senseless - 🩵💗 established relationship!! silly goofy behavior, no angst (i know, rare right?) allusion to nsfw word count: 688

"Okay." You giggled, setting up the phone on the windowsill. "Are you ready?"

Bucky nodded, locked in on your video. "Ready when you are, Doll."

His willingness to try anything worked in your favor more often than not, (the mannequin challenge, the time you curled his hair, the time you made him do the dirty dancing move - which he executed flawlessly by the way) but right now you couldn't help but feel bad for tricking him. Still, you decided to go through with it, it was a harmless prank. "Alright, just stand straight."

He stretched his back, and you tried not to stare at the way his muscles fought his t-shirt. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Getting distracted?"

"Never." You shook your head, cheeks hot as you grabbed the broom. Walking back toward the camera, you smiled. "Today, I'm going to be testing my boyfriend's posture."

Bucky stood awkwardly behind you, the camera always made him shy. You kissed his cheek gently, talking to the camera as if he couldn't here you. "What a looker, am I right?"

He rolled his eyes. "I can hear you?"

You feigned surprise, laughing. "Are you sure? You're pretty old, maybe your hearing-" Before you could even react, he expertly wrapped his metal arm around your waist, pulling you in. "Bucky-"

He leaned down, kissing you the way he always did, like it was his last moment on Earth, all consuming and fiery. You felt weak, happy for his hold as you wrapped a hand around his neck, sighing into his lips.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." You grinned, pecking the corner of his mouth quickly. "I love when you kiss me. Makes me feel all mushy and-"

"Loved?" He raised an eyebrow. "I hope you feel loved."

You nodded, kissing his cheek once more. "I always feel loved. And important. You make me feel everything." His cheeks tinged pink, and you smiled, glad you had the same effect on him he had on you. Stepping back, you locked back into character. "I'm going to have to cut all of that out, of course."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "How unfortunate."

"James!" You scolded, shaking your head. "Behave yourself for five seconds, then you can kiss me senseless as much as you want."

"Senseless huh?" He muttered, and you glared. He raised his hands in surrender, laughing. "Sorry, sorry."

You took a deep breath, looking back at the camera. "To see if he has good posture, I'm going to put this broom through his sleeves."

Bucky nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem."

You giggled, nodding with him. "Not a problem at all." Slipping the broom through his sleeves, you smirked, presenting him to the camera. "Fantastic posture, if I do say so myself."

He stood tall, proud, unsuspecting as you prepared yourself to do the unthinkable.

Your mission: tickling the White Wolf.

Reaching your hands out, you grabbed his sides, tickling him senseless. He jumped, shocked at first.

"Jesus, Doll!" He couldn't help but laugh, almost shrieking when your attack didn't let up. He tried to run away, but you followed after him, unrelenting in your assault. "This is elder abuse!"

You cackled, throwing your head back. "I'm sorry, this was all a ruse!"

He reached back, pulling the broom out of his sleeve. "You better run."

"Shit!" You screeched, racing toward the door.

Of course, he caught you. You knew he would, you were counting on it. "Spare me!"

He flung you over his shoulder, marched towards your bed, and tossed you down, caging you in between his beautifully muscular arms. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, the way he was staring at you nearly causing your heart to palpitate. "Bucky-"

"I feel betrayed." He spoke, his voice low. You knew he was kidding, but you pretended, playing into the bit.

"Oh?" Your hands itched to reach out and pull his lips to yours. "And what can I do? To earn your trust again, that is?"

He leaned down whispering in your ear, a chill running down your spine. "I can think of a few things..."

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[pupwashing]

older brother!jimmy x younger sister!reader

warnings: INCEST, NONCON, anal, unprotected sex, blood mention, cigarette burning on skin, lowercase intended

A/N: AT LAST I HAVE TIME TO POST :3 I really liked writing this even though it’s a drabble,, as always I love feedback! comments & rbs are appreciated!

jimmy’s a fucking weirdo.

being his younger sister, you’re the most qualified person to claim this as fact.

ever since you could remember, jimmy’s been the weird kid. the odd one out.

he doesn’t know care about doing things the right way or making people feel uncomfortable, including you.

he’s a terrible older brother, but you didn’t know he was going to get worse.

much, much worse.

jimmy stays in the basement; hasn’t made an effort to move out yet. probably never will.

you prefer him living down in the basement. means you don’t have to see him as much.

when the basement door opens, you think nothing of it. he’s probably coming up for food, like he usually does.

except, he makes a beeline for the living room, where you’re watching some trashy romcom. he hates your taste in films; fake bullshit that uses handsome faces to sell you a pipe dream.

maybe it’s jealousy, or maybe it’s pent up resentment. 

either way, it’s pissed him off, and he’s already having a bad day.

curly keeps trying to drag him everywhere under the sun.

he knows its out of pity, so he declines.

but curly is persistent.

that persistence just adds to his likability. something jimmy lacks, something he craves, deep down.

this anger jimmy feels, all his pent up rage leads him to make a drastic decision.

if he can’t take his frustrations out on the people that cause him, then he can surely use his younger sister as a punching bag.

you should’ve been more aware of your brother’s tendencies. should’ve known he’d snap sooner or later.

you just didn’t realize you’d be the victim when he did.

when you regain consciousness, you realize you aren’t in the living room anymore.

you’re in the basement, on a stained mattress.

attempting to move, you notice that your ankles and wrists are bound with zip-ties.

when you try to speak, you realize that there’s duct tape on your mouth.

you don’t have much time to ponder what’s happened before jimmy comes in.

his appearance is rough; a stained wifebeater and worn black boxers, with a unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

he looks like shit, just like any other day.

he walks over to the mattress, not uttering a word as he flips you to lie on your stomach.

the cogs are beginning to turn in your head, and you don’t like where this is going.

he positions your body as if you were a mannequin; face down, ass up.

jimmy’s silent as he flicks his lighter on, lighting his cigarette.

he makes quick work of your shorts and panties, ignoring your whimpers of protest.

he kneads at your ass, letting the plump flesh fill his palms. 

he gropes you for a while before you feel it: a warm glob of spit on your asshole, trickling down to your pussy.

when it finally clicks what jimmy plans to do, it’s too late.

his cockhead nudges against your puckered entrance, forcing its way into your formerly virgin hole.

you scream, but the tape muffles it. jimmy doesn’t even flinch.

taking a drag of his cigarette, he exhales the smoke as he begins his thrusts.

he’s fucking you deep. feels like he’s messing with your organs.

jimmy presses a palm on the small of your back, forcing you to arch more as he violates you.

he doesn’t utter a word, nor does he grunt or groan. he just smokes his cigarette as he fucks you.

you don’t know how many hours it’s been, but you know he’s been through ten cigs. its easy to count, because he’s been putting them out on you.

your body aches, you feel like he’s ripped you in two, but he hasn’t stopped.

every snap of his hips has you talking to god, praying that he’d end your suffering, one way or another.

your prayers were interrupted by jimmy putting out his cigarette on your hip, rubbing this thumb over the fresh mark.

you don’t even scream this time. you’re too exhausted to even cry. you have no tears left.

jimmy gets up, the mattress creaking under the loss of his weight.

it’s finally over.

he leaves you on the bed in a crumpled heap, cum and blood creating a grotesque river as it slowly drips out of your abused hole.

but you know this isn’t the end of it.

he’s kept you tied up for a reason, he’s just taking a break.

you close your eyes, hoping that somehow, someway, you’ll get your dignity back, after jimmy stole it from you.

you fucking hate your older brother.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 11

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

You feel like a child again. Crammed in the back seat between your sisters. The motion of the car makes you queasy but you’re not so certain it isn’t something else stirring your guts. You’re all silent, as if on your way to another funeral. 

Any other woman might be ecstatic. You can’t feel anything by acidic dread. The weigh on your finger keeps you from forgetting the inevitable. 

Kitty reaches to still you as you twist the oversized band against your chafed finger. You dip your head embarrassed and she holds your hand gently in yours. 

“We will get through it.” Kitty says. 

“We have to,” you say. 

Adrienne hums and jostles you from her side. You must all be thinking of the same thing. This is a day when your mother should be there. One where you miss her deep in your soul. 

The car stops. Barnes’ man opens the door and you get out. You feel like an inmate on some sort of excursion. You have a guard close though you have nowhere to go. You can’t see them but you have shackles around you. 

The dress shop stands in stark contrast to the mood. You enter the ivory lobby and approach the tall counter where a woman stands. She greets you with a smile. There’s a group of women in the cushy chairs nestled between garishly-adorned mannequins. 

You give your name, anxiously swaying. He told you to be here at this time. He ensured you would be by sending the car. 

“Ah, there she is,” a voice rises from the cluster of ladies in the sitting area. “We’ve been waiting.” 

A steely-haired woman rises before the associate behind the counter can confirm your appointment. She approaches with the flock at her back. You face her in surprise, your sisters closing the ranks at your sides. 

“Winnifred Barnes,” the woman introduces herself, “you are the one my son has chosen.” She grabs your hand and shakes it. Her grip is tight. “My daughter, Rebecca,” she lets go of you and gestures to the pretty brunette at her left, “Wanda,” she waves at a blond, “and dear Natasha.” A redhead nods with a stony expression. 

“Oh, hello, ma’am,” you know who she is. Barnes’ own mother; your future in-law. “My sisters--” 

“Adrienne and Kitty,” she addresses them each with a smile and a handshake. “Yes, the three sisters.” She turns her attention back to you, “my regrets your own mother could not be here but when my son told me, I insisted. It isn’t fair of a woman to pick a dress without a maternal shoulder to lean on.” 

“Right,” you agree thinly. “I...appreciate it very much. Thank you for being here.” 

“Did he not tell you?” Rebecca intones from her mother’s shoulder, “typical.” 

“It’s a happy surprise,” Kitty insists. 

Winnifred smiles at her, “entirely correct. We’ve had a bit of a peek around, not going to lie.” 

“Oh, my,” your eyes scan the walls full of ivory, cream, and pearl. “I have to admit, I don’t really know what I’m looking for.” 

“Never worry. You’ve got a dozen other eyes to help you,” Winnifred takes your hand, “they have a room ready for us but we should have a look around first.” She tugs you along as the associate beckons her past the front counter. You let her lead the way. This is all easier if you just let it happen around you. “And your sisters, they will be bridesmaids?” 

“I... yes,” you answer in a hollow tone. You hadn’t even thought of that. It only sinks in at that moment. 

You’re getting married. You’re going to have a full-fledged wedding and you’re going to leave your sisters forever. Your daddy is gone and so is your old life. 

“Why don’t you see what catches your eye?” Winnifred gestures to the wall of fluffy gowns. “We all know the men don’t care what we wear, they’re less concerned with the day and more eager for the night.” 

She cackles and you turn to the hangers of fabric. That’s better than thinking about the implications of the choice. Pick a dress. Whatever one you choose won’t change what comes next. 

“Ladies, you know your mission,” Winnifred claps. She nears you and pulls on puffy piece, “would you look at that? Like a princess.” 

You peek over. It’s too much. The layers and layers, the sequins and lace. Why not one or the other? It’s all too much. You never had to worry about silk or mesh, tulle or chiffon. You wore whatever you had. 

“No, you don’t like it,” she clucks. “A mother always knows.” 

“Sorry,” you murmur and push apart the dresses in front of you. 

You shuffle through, one by one. Too much frill, too sheer, too heavy, too Victorian. You don’t even think you should wear white. It feels like an occasion better suited to black. 

“Pull as many as you like. We have all day. You want options. You never really know what you like until it’s on,” Winnifred advises. 

“Hey,” Kitty calls to you and shows you a dress, “you like this?” 

You look over at your sister as she presents a dress with short sleeves and lacy tiers on the skirt. It’s nice but you’re not sure. 

“I can try it,” you say and turn back. 

You go down the full wall before you find something that gives you pause. There’s nothing special about it. It's plain. Straps, a skirt. No ruffles, no lace, no ribbons or beads. Just a dress. And this is just a wedding. 

You take the hanger and hand it to the associate. She goes to add it to the selection. That’s your choice. You’ll see what the others found. 

You wander but don’t look at anything else. Winnifred has an armful as she nears, “well, think we’ve got a good lot. Let’s go see how it looks.” 

She’s happy. It’s strange. To her, it is a joyful time. Her son is getting married and she’s there to help her soon-to-be daughter-in-law pick a gown. You smile, or try to. 

You are led into a room with velvet chairs and a matching chaise. The women settle in. Your sisters in the chairs, and Winnifred between the three other women on the cushioned bench. The associate takes you to the curtained changing room. 

There’s at least a dozen hangers waiting for you. 

“Do you have a preference of which one to try first?” She asks. 

“This one last,” you point to the one you picked. 

“Okay,” she agrees easily. “Better get started.” 

“Sure,” you say, “it’s going to be a long day.” 

She helps into the first one. A ballgown with flowery lace all over and off-the-shoulder straps. This isn’t for you but you’ll let them see it. You lift the skirts above your feet and go out. 

There’s a few gasps as you get in front of the mirror and face your reflection. You hide your displeasure. It’s just not you. 

“Gorgeous,” Wanda and Rebecca praise. 

“I like the skirt,” Adrienne offers. 

“No, it’s not right,” Kitty hums. 

“It isn’t,” Winnifred agrees. 

You nod and turn to the associate, “next, please.” 

You step away from the mirror and hurry back to the shelter of the curtain. This is torture. If Barnes is so set on owning you, can’t you just sign the papers and be done with it? 

[libraryofolive]

okay but hear me out...

featuring: Takuma Ino x gn!reader

genre: Fluff, crack

word count: 600

synopsis: Making a hear me out cake with your boyfriend is just meaningless fun, right?

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

a/n: i fear the demons cooked with this idea that would not leave my head until I wrote it

“Kuma!” You called out to your boyfriend from the kitchen, mischief lacing your tone.

“Yeah babe?” He asked, appearing in the doorway of your shared kitchen. You had spent all day in there, shooing him out every time he popped his head in to try and find out what exactly you were doing. He found you stood at the kitchen table, spreading buttercream icing onto a freshly made chocolate cake. “Is that what you’ve been doing all day? Are we celebrating something?”

“I need you to go and print some stuff out for me.” You smiled at him.

“We have a printer?”

“Yes, we have a printer. Now go use it.”

“What exactly am I printing out?”

There was a beat of silence before you answered him. “Your hear me outs.” He broke out in a massive grin, eyes lighting up with excitement. Your own smile widened at his puppy-like excitement, glad he was on board with your surprise idea.

“Is that a hear me out cake?”

“Nah, it’s my friend’s birthday cake.”

“Oh..” His shoulders sunk, suddenly lethargic.

“I’m kidding, idiot. We’re absolutely doing hear me out cake. Go get printing, and don’t you dare hold back.” Ino was suddenly full of energy again, rushing off to print off the photos he needed.

“Erm, baby?” He wandered back into the kitchen, sheepish.

“Yeah sweetie?” You looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Where is the printer?”

-

It was 20 minutes later, and you had your phone set in front of the fresh cake, filming the two of you stood behind it. You had both done the majority of your hear me outs, and it was your turn to reveal your last one.

“I’d, erm, say this is a relatively tame one, but I saved it til last just for your reaction.” You bit your lip, nervously looking at your boyfriend.

“Okay, now I’m kinda scared. The last one you said was ‘tame’ was a headless mannequin.”

You slowly spun your kebab stick around, revealing the photo attached to it to your camera, purposefully holding it close to block Ino’s view of it.

“Babe, I can’t see-”

“Nanami!” You squeaked, hurriedly stabbing the stick into the cake.

“That’s my boss!” Ino gaped at you, jaw hanging so low it was basically on the floor.

“Hey, you can’t deny that that man is very much attractive. A gentleman too.”

“No, I really can’t deny it…” As your boyfriend trailed off, he slowly spun his last hear me out around, allowing you to see the subject of it.

“Fuck off!” You exclaimed, a gobsmacked laugh tearing it’s way out of your throat.

“My last hear me out is also Nanami…” He said to the camera, before putting it in the cake next to your photo of the same man.

“Did we use the same photo?” You reeled, admiring your cake through your phone screen.

“It is a sexy photo of him.”

“I’m telling you, it’s the rolled up sleeves. It’s the same as the mannequin-” The two of you spent the next minute admiring your boyfriend’s superior, all on a video that eventually made its way onto your TikTok page.

-

A few days passed, and the two of you had pretty much forgotten about the video you had posted. The cake had been devoured by the two of you over those days, and the many photos that had been stuck in it thrown away, as if the entire thing never happened. Until Ino received a text, that is.

Would you care to explain what a ‘hear me out’ is?

[npookie0]

Killer Pride

Happy Pride Month everyone!

For this occasion I decided to write a quick spend-pride-with-your-serial-killer drabble <3 Each love interest comes with their own sexuality/gender identity representation so here is the list (only Misaki and Ronin's gender identities are truly canon!) - Ronin -> transgender, bi rep <3 - Misaki -> nonbinary, pan rep! - V -> Asexual rep! - Angel -> Demisexual rep (i hc her as a lesbian or at least bi with fem pref but i wanted this reader to be g.n. so demi was the best choice because to me she's a demisexual lesbian)

Happy Pride and enjoy <3

Ronin

You two were getting ready to go out and take part in a Pride parade that was hosted in Elysium. You were very excited about this occasion, it was supposed to be the first pride you'd be taking part in with Ronin and not for work!

You put on the accessories you found and made with your flag's colours and looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt like your very own Pride star, with the accessories and make up and it felt great, you felt proud of yourself.

"You ready yet, darlin'?" You turned around when you heard Ronin's voice behind you and you gasped, then a giggle left your mouth. "Oh god! Are you trying to become a whole pride flag on your own?" You just looked at him in disbelief.

Ronin, still in his edgy-serial-killer-lord-of-the-night clothes had more colour than you've even seen him wear. Staring from the giant trans and bi flags being attached to his belt, going to all the hand made bracelets he was wearing on his wrists, most of these were probably going to end up as a hand out for all the kids who aren't able to be as open with their queerness as he is. Even his beanie managed to get a rainbow chain hanging from one of the horns. You would never admit it out loud but somehow he looked adorable like this and a tiny bit funny.

"What's so funny?" He raised an eyebrow with a cheeky smirk. "Y'know I'd go all out baby, don't act like you didn't." He ruffled your hair.

Angel

You expected your Pride month with Maria de la Rosa to be rather discrete and hidden, she had some LGBTQ+ friendly companies working with her in previous years, but now you're dating and you were expecting her to be cautious of showing of her queerness in front of her fans, worried of their opinions and comments.

But you couldn't be more positively wrong!

Your girlfriend decided to take you on a walk around the city so she could film a video for her channel about Elysium's ways of celebrating Pride and the traditions that she noticed over the years. The biggest shock for you was the fact that she was holding your hand, talking to you how she always did and even decided to keep the shot of you two kissing on camera.

"So, Maria, could you tell us more about the colours you're wearing today?" You asked, sitting next to her on a bench, Angel asked you to do a little interview with her about her queerness.

"I'm wearing the colours of the demisexual flag!" She answered with her signature sweet giggle.

You asked a few more questions and she even gave you an in-depth introduction to demisexuality. You looked the shine in her eyes, the excitement at the idea of educating her fans, especially the youngest of them, about the community she belongs to.

"I'm so proud of you!" You kissed Angel on the cheek and put the strawberry milkshake in front of her.

"Thank you sweetheart, without you it'd be duller and just way worse." She took your hand in hers. "Happy Pride, I love you."

Misaki :

"Misaki my wrist hurts." You groaned.

Your partner was using your arm as a mannequin for their bracelet, which meant that you had to hold out your arm so Misaki could make the jewellery on you.

"Aw, but think about all the gay kids who will wear these later, our wrist can be sacrificed for this!" They said half jokingly and you just scoffed, a beaming smile on your smile.

"Fine, fine, the baby gays are a fair cause here." You replied and looked over at your forearm that was covered by many colorful bracelets, most of them were rainbow and some other were in specific flag colours. Your wrists weren't the only ones full of queer jewellery, Misaki had some bracelets on their own, mostly ones in nonbinary and pansexual flags colours. You could see the passion in Misaki's eyes, how excited she was about making small trinkets for all the people of the community who maybe couldn't be as open as you two wish they could be.

"Do you think we have enough?" You asked when Misaki started to take some of the bracelets off of you. This was the fifth round of making them and Misaki slowly started to lose the beads with how many she used already.

They looked over at the pile and titled their head, thinking about your question. "It's enough," they paused, "for today at least! We have the whole month to go, babe! We'll make even more."

"I'll get you a real mannequin for this, because my wrists are dying."

"Sorry, sorry! i went a little overboard here." They chuckled.

"Pfft, you're lucky I love you, you silly cat." You kissed their cheek and stood up. "Come on now, we should go now if we want to catch a glimpse of any parades."

V :

"Do you really think you're fine with it?" You asked V who sat in the chair in front of you, you were holding an eyeshadow palette and brush in front of his face.

You and your boyfriend were supposed to go to a queer youth charity event, one that V was very eager to sponsor even before Pride month. Since this event was specifically hosted for Pride every guest was asked to represent their own sexuality or gender identity if they felt comfortable with it.

You suggested that you could give V a asexual themed make up and he agreed, yet you were worried that maybe he felt pressured to do so to make you happy.

V opened his eyes and nodded. "Yes, I told you that I'm happy with this, didn't I?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well yes, but..."

"My love, I'm an adult, I know what I agreed to and I still want to do it." He reassured you with that gentle and slightly sweet smile of his.

"Alright, sorry I guess I'm just worried since I never was on a big event like that before." You smiled mischievously. "I hope you won't mind a bit of glitter then mr. Valentin, 'cause I'll make you shine." With the playful threat you started to apply make up on his eyes, starting with white as the base and going through gray to black and then on the other edge you added purple. You weren't kidding when you told him about adding glitter, you really did add a tiny bit of silver glitter over the eye shadow for a better effect.

"What do you think?" You asked, giving him the mirror.

"You did a great job, thank you." He stood up and kissed you sweetly. "Do you think that I should also have a flag with me? They're small, but I bought one for me and another for you." He said and pointed towards the flags that were displayed on the bed, you couldn't believe that you didn't see them before.

"Yeah, I don't see why not, we could have them tied to our bags or belts, that's how many people were them too."

Yay! Happy Pride everyone! I was supposed to post this yesterday but well!!!!

Stay safe, hydrated and be proud of who you are <3

I hope to write more pride related fic for each one of them later this month cause these are just quick drabbles for funnsiesss

Also if someone has the pride month calendar pls send it my way I saw 3 different ones on tik tok and I'm not sure which one to trust ;w;

Nate <3

[ahgasegotarmy116]

BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 3

Summary: Running into someone from your past that you had hoped you'd never see again was not on your to do list today. Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 1.3k~ Warnings: Literally nothing lol enjoy~ Requested by @missmorningglory 💜

After Jungkook begged me over and over and over again I finally concede and brought him to the mall with me, giving him a very clear warning that if he picked up another mannequin or started touching everything again like he did last time I would ground him, leaving him promising me he'll be on his best behavior. 

We compromised after that and decided it would be best if I just let him hold my hand the whole time because he claimed he couldn't control himself. 

He's a literal robot and can be controlled but I'm too lazy to try and reprogram him for something as silly as that.

As we come upon the next aisle and start looking through all the newish electronics I see someone out of the corner of my eye that I regrettably recognize making me duck behind Jungkook, hoping he didn't see me.

"Is everything alright?" he chuckles, turning to face me, still managing to keep me hidden. "Yeah everything is fine. Completely fine. Just, don't move from this spot for a while yeah?" I say, peeking around him to see that the guy I recognized is getting closer. 

"Actually you know what? Why don't we go to the next aisle? I heard there's a new electric toothbrush that you can hook your phone up to and I really wanna check it out" I say, trying to tug him down the aisle but in the process bump into a speaker behind me, making a Sabrina Carpenter song shoot through it on full blast, startling all three of us and bringing the guys attention over to Jungkook and I.

"Y/n?" he asks, recognizing me immediately making me cringe, wishing the world would open up and swallow me whole. "Yeah, um hi...you" I say, not one hundred percent sure of his name making him chuckle. "Jake" he says, reintroducing himself and I snap.

"Jake! I almost forgot, silly me" I say, my awkwardness level up to a billion leaving all three of us standing there and I realize after having a long pause that I should probably introduce Jungkook. 

"Sorry um, this is Jungkook, my boyfriend. Jungkook this is Ja-" "Jake, got it" Jungkook says flatly, sizing him up and trying to figure out who exactly this man might be to me since he's never come up before.

"Nice to meet you" Jake says, holding out his hand to Jungkook and he takes it, making Jake's brows knit together and let go seconds later. "Strong handshake" he chuckles and shakes out his hand. 

"So um...how have you been?" I ask, internally yelling at myself to stop trying to make small talk. "I've been alright. I was wondering where you wandered off to but now I know..." he says, his eyes sizing up Jungkook right back. "Yeah Jungkook and I met a few months ago and we just...hit it off" I chuckle awkwardly.

"So you guys used to date?" Jungkook asks, Jake saying 'yes' while I'm rushing to say 'no' making Jungkook cock a brow at me. "We went out a couple of times bu-" 

'But I bet we'd have really good bed chem' Sabrina sings right on fucking cue, cutting me off preventing any sort of salvaging of this conversation.

The three of us all stood there awkwardly after that, the song as our backing track making me finally press pause, taking my blood pressure down just a bit. Those lyrics alone hinting at what had gone down between Jake and I. "Anyways, we decided it wasn't gonna work out" I explain making Jake chuckle bitterly. 

"We decided?" he echoes making me cringe, obviously not telling the full truth. "I...I decided" I concede making him nod in agreement. "Ghosted me is more like it" he mumbles making me feel bad, not having had to experience an encounter like this before.

"Yeah...sorry bout that" I say, but we all know I'm not sorry. If anything I'm more sorry that I have to go through this as a result. "I'll let you guys get back to shopping then. It was nice meeting you Jungkook...Y/n" he says, looking me up and down once more before leaving the aisle, making me let out a breath of relief. 

"Was tha-" "I don't wanna talk about it" I say holding my hand up to Jungkook's face to stop the conversation before it gets started leaving him chuckling at my expense. "Oh yeah laugh it up, we'll see where that gets you" I huff and walk in the opposite direction that Jake went, leaving Jungkook jogging after me to catch up.

"That guy looked pretty familiar" he says in my ear when we start making our way out and back to the car. "Really? I'm pretty sure I've never shown him to you. I don't even think I have a picture of him" I say thinking about it for a second and Jungkook just shakes his head.

"What?" I ask and he just shrugs his shoulder, "Oh nothing" he says and opens my car door for me. "No tell me!" I whine leaving him placing a kiss on my pouty lips. "I just thought he looked really familiar that's all" he shrugs again making my eyes roll.

"Who does he remind you of then?" I ask and his next answer makes me choke on air. "Me" he chuckles and pats my back to help soothe my coughing fit. "What?" I ask, not remotely expecting that since...let's be honest, Jungkook is a hell of a lot more handsome than Jake...but I'll never tell.

"It's okay to have a type. I just wasn't expecting to see the guy you modeled me after" he taunts, poking my cheek making me pout further. "I did not model you after him" I huff and close the car door on him leaving him laughing and walking around to the passenger seat. 

"Ava is the one that created you remember? I hardly had any part in it" I mumble and put the car into drive, heading straight home since I know I'll be forced to deal with his teasings for the rest of the night. 

"Yeah but you clearly have a type if she's able to make a sex bot for you with a similar vibe" he counters making me groan. "For the last time you are not modeled after him!" and he puts his hands up in defeat. "Whatever you say my love" he addresses me with the motive of taking the edge off. 

The car goes silent for a while until I can tell he's bursting at the seams to ask me another question. 

"So if I asked you to show me your previous boyfriends would you say yes?" he chances. "Absolutely not" I grumble and he laughs, "That's fine, I'm sure I can always as Ava" he smirks, satisfied with his plan.

"He wasn't even my boyfriend...but he wanted to be. And so that's why I ghosted him" I explain and he hums. "Pussy so good you got him whipped after a few tastes?" he says, his vulgar way of putting it catching me off guard.

"Jungkook!" I scold him, my cheeks heating up at that, making his chuckle that fucking cocky chuckle that makes me wanna get on my knees for him. "What? I don't blame the guy. I'd never wanna let you go either" he admits but I sigh, bringing myself back down to reality.

 "You're programmed to be obsessed with me so your words don't hold much weight in this context" I explain but he just shrugs. 

"From the way he was looking at you, clearly still wanting you...and the way he was looking at me, pissed that he wasn't in my place I know my calculations are correct. Call it what you want but you're addictive" he counters making me squirm in place, the compliment with evidence to corroborate it making me nervous.

"Shut up and let me drive" I huff and he stifles back his laughter, having mercy on me...but that mercy is short lived. His need to prove himself evident as soon as we walk in the door, making sure to remind me that no one could ever compare to him.

Drabble Masterlist

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[r0tting-rat]

DCA PROMPTOBER 2024

Attention! This slasher!au belong to the lovely @wyervan, who gave me the okay to write a little drabble about their murderous guys bc I'm simply obsessed with them. I hope I did them justice :>

Day 27 - Stalker

Pairing: Slasher!Sun and Moon x/& GN reader Warning: Blood, violence and gore, choking, drug mention Words: 3800+ Summary: It's Halloween and someone stops by to pay you a visit <3

Whoever said that serial killers are the real monsters of this world has probably never worked a minimum wage job at a diner during Halloween. Teenagers were a fucking pain, there was nothing to say about it. Between stupid pranks and annoying messes, they seemed to try and find every possible way to make your living life hell, like you were some kind of lifeless mannequin and not a waiter.

You often had the closing shift during the weekends, along with a coworker of yours, who was as insufferable and as bothersome as some of the teenagers who’d come in during the day. Jake was a douche, there wasn’t much to say; he was immature and lazy, multiple times he had found ways to shove his workload on you and other people, his cigarette breaks lasted longer than your lunch and he would flirt with every woman under 20 that would cross the threshold of the diner. You and he often worked the closing shift together, which meant you cleaned the kitchen and the tables as Jake called his girlfriend on his flip phone while mindlessly sweeping the floor, only managing to move dust bunnies and used napkins from one place to the other.

You heard his voice loud and clear from the kitchen, complaining about some guy who owed him money, when your ears suddenly picked up something you regretted hearing.

-Stop worrying about it, there’s no risk of him telling the cops, he’d get into a lot more trouble than me,- he laughed, -He’s addicted to that shit, he wouldn’t survive a week without me.-

You had heard from a coworker that Jake sold drugs to highschoolers, but you weren’t the type to believe rumors without any proof, so you had never cared much about it. Your eyes glanced up from the grill you were cleaning to see if Jake had noticed you listening in on his private conversation, but the man was too engrossed into pretending to do his job to notice you. You didn’t want to have anything to do with Jake’s deals, you wanted to keep out of his life as much as you didn’t want him to become a part of yours.

Suddenly, someone began knocking on the glass door of the bar, making it rattle loudly and echo through the small diner. You stopped and waited, until a second, louder knock startled you. Jake wasn’t going to open, was he?

You peeked out of the kitchen, looking for your coworker, but he must have disappeared somewhere in the back because you couldn’t see him anywhere in the dining area. He had left the broom behind, of course. 

Looking outside the diner and into the dark parking lot, you saw a tall man standing right in front of the door with a weird jester costume, waiting for someone to open the door for him. He was wearing red and yellow puffy striped pants, a yellow top with red ruffles, and a weird Halloween mask over his face—a white and golden smiling sun, with a crown of golden rays all around.

As soon as the man saw you he stopped slowly swaying on the spot, freezing, and his head tilted to the side in confusion. You had expected teenagers to come and bother you so late, considering it was the 31st, but a grown ass man wearing such a stupid costume? That was simply ridiculous. You tapped the sign on your side of the glass which read “CLOSED” in bold and red letters, but that seemed to not be enough for the clown.

-We don’t do trick or treating here,- you said, speaking loud enough so he could hear you from outside, -If you want candies how about knocking at the door of a house or something?-

The man’s shoulders shook with laughter, but you didn’t hear any sound coming from him, so you simply sighed and turned back towards the kitchen. You wanted to go home, drink something warm, and do a rewatch of the Scream trilogy, nothing else. Why couldn’t that asshole do the same?

The masked man slammed his hand on the glass, making you jump and turn back around, then he pointed towards the broom laying on the floor a few feet away from you. Something clicked in your head, and you stared at him with your mouth agape.

-Wait, are you here for Jake? Are you one of his friends or something?- you asked, and after a moment of hesitation, the man nodded eagerly. You gave him a better look, noticing exactly how much taller than you he was and his lean build—he didn’t fit the depiction of Jake’s clients. Most of them were highschoolers, as far as you were aware.

-Listen, I can’t let you in, but we’re almost closed, so you just wait a couple of minutes and he’s all yours,- you told the man, who gave you a grateful nod followed by a step back into the parking lot. Despite that, that guy unnerved you deeply, he was weird and creepy, and you didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

You decided you could tell Jake to go home and leave you the rest of the work—which you would have ended up doing even if he stayed there—just so you could get rid of the masked loser outside, but when you called his name, you didn’t hear any answer. You walked in the back of the diner, checking even the kitchen to make sure he wasn’t eating any of the leftover fries, but your coworker had disappeared into thin air. 

During your search you found the staff door wide open, letting in the cold night breeze, and when you tried to close it you found that the handle wasn’t working properly anymore. Every time you pushed it closed, the door would creak open once more.

-What the fuck…?-

A sudden sound made you jump out of your skin and turn around in search of the cause, finding only the silence of the dark diner answering back. You were getting uneasy, on edge, and you couldn’t stop thinking about the weirdo right outside the door. Right as you had begun to wonder if he had found a way to get in, a hand grabbed your shoulder and you screamed.

-Jesus, fuck!- yelled Jake as you flinched away from him, -What the hell is wrong with you?!-

Your heart was beating so loud you could hear it in your chest, hammering against your sternum like a drum, but when you saw your coworker standing right behind you, you sighed and relaxed.

-You scared me!- You shoved the man away, annoyed, and he reacted by looking at you like you had gotten crazy. -Go tell your stupid friend to leave, he’s creeping me out.-

-Who are you talking about?- he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

-Sun dude, with the mask and clown outfit? Doesn’t that ring a bell? He’s waiting for you outside.-

Jake’s brown furrowed in confusion, then he pushed you away to enter back into the dining area, where you had seen the masked guy. He looked outside, walking towards the glass windows that gave a clear view of the parking lot, which revealed to be completely empty. Jake turned around to glare at you like you had set your pants on fire. 

-Did you take something? Some shrooms?- he asked, and you sighed.

-No, he probably just left. That’s his van, I’m sure, it wasn’t there an hour ago.- You pointed at a white van parked not too far from the door in the parking lot. -Do you recognize it?-

Jake shook his head, still visibly confused by your behavior, and from his stance you could tell that he was also growing tense. His hands were fidgeting and his eyes were scanning the parking lot like a police car was about to pull up and arrest him any minute, but in the end he scoffed. 

-Nah. Whatever, I’m going home,- he said, walking away from the window, -I’m not in the mood for this stuff.-

-I’m serious, there was a guy there!- you replied, but the man didn’t listen, -Also, next time close the door behind you after you go out for a smoke.-

-I haven’t smoked in 3 hours,- Jake retorted, -What are you talking about now?-

-So you didn’t open the back door?- you asked after a pause, feeling a sense of chill spread in your guts, creeping up into your lungs and blocking your airway, -But it’s…?-

The door had been broken. From the outside. Someone had gotten in, and you didn’t even hear it, neither of you did. You and Jake seemed to realize the same thing at the same time, but just as you bolted towards your bag and grabbed your phone, which you had left behind the counter, Jake ran for the main door, slamming it open in a rush. 

-Wait, don’t!- you screamed, but the man didn’t listen to you and headed to his car, which was parked in a far corner of the parking lot. Before he could take more than two steps, the white van rumbled to life, pointing its headlights at him and blinding him in the process. 

-Come back inside!- you screamed, and luckily this time Jake seemed to be willing to listen to you, because as soon as he realized he was about to get run over, he threw himself back into the diner. You grabbed him by one of his wrists and dragged him with you in the kitchen, your only safe space for now. 

The kitchen wasn’t that big; the diner you worked at was just a small local business that had just enough seats for the small population of your town, therefore, there weren’t many places to hide. 

-What the fuck is happening?!- screamed Jake in a panic, but you shushed him, beginning to type the police’s number until a humming sound made you freeze on the spot, -Why did you stop?! We need to…-

-Down!- you hissed, ducking behind one of the grills and bringing Jake down with you, right as light steps echoed in the dining area which you had just left. You listened carefully, kneeling on the cold floor of the kitchen with Jake shaking beside you, one of your hands coming up to cover his mouth. 

Your ears picked on a masculine voice singing something reminding you of a lullaby, slow and gentle, melodic and raspy at the same time. The intruder was singing without a care in the world, entering the kitchen just to stop right on the threshold, lingering on the spot. You peeked your head out from the side of the fryer, trying to get a look at the man but only managing to see a pair of black boots and blue puffy pants covered in stars before your eye was caught by the hatchet he was holding in his gloved hand. Old, rusty, and clipped in many places around the edge, the weapon looked decades old, if not more. You saw the man swinging it mindlessly around, like he was playing with it, still humming that low tune with his deep voice. 

-Someone’s hiding,- he sang, mocking, -Someone’s scared!-

Struggling to keep yourself from making a sound, you hid back behind the fryer, hoping to the heavens that Jake wasn’t about to panic and rat you both out. You sent him a warning glare, but the man was too worried about stopping his hands from trembling to even look in your direction. 

-Which little mouse will have its tail chopped off today, mh?- asked the intruder, beginning to walk slowly around the kitchen, -I heard someone has been behaving badly recently. The Sun told me someone was being naughty…-

Pots and pans were knocked down from the counters, making you flinch and cover your own mouth in fear of letting a sound slip out, and with the corner of your eye, you saw Jake begin crying. 

-Isn’t that right, Jake?- the psycho laughed, beginning to move once more, -Did the Sun lie, or are you actually misbehaving?-

You grabbed one of your coworker’s hands and began to crawl away, forcing him to come along, attempting to get on the other side before you could be seen. 

-Come out, come out, Jake, we just wanna play a game with you.- The man faked disappointment, opening any cabinet big enough to contain a human and making a mess of the kitchen around him as an attempt to drive you out of hiding. A metal lid rolled all the way in front of you, stopping right in your tracks, but being too focused on trying to understand how far the intruder was, you didn’t see it, and you hit it with one of your hands, sending it against the wall with a clang.

-Shit!- you said, standing back up, -Run!-

-There you are!- screamed the intruder, immediately running after you and Jake as you scrambled up on your feet and did everything you could to get away. 

You went back into the dining area, attempting an escape through the broken back door, but just as you turned the corner you found the sun-masked man standing in your way with a metal bat in his hands. While trying to step away from him and avoid his first swing directly aimed at your head, you tripped onto Jake, falling on him and causing both of you to ruin on the ground, hitting your head against the wall in the process. Breathing heavily, you managed to back yourself into a corner, unable to see through the heavy cloud of pain blossoming in your skull as warm liquid dripped down your neck, soaking your work uniform and making you dizzy. Your every breath was painful, your throat and mouth burned dry and your heart was beating out of your chest, deafening you entirely to the screams of your coworker being slammed against the wall beside you by the man with the hatchet. You were barely conscious, enough to distinguish the sun mask kneeling in front of you to observe you better as a crunch echoed through the diner, final in the way it made Jake’s protests and cries come to an abrupt stop.

Blood began to pool on the floor next to you, dripping down the wall where the killer’s hatchet had split open his skull, and the metallic scent hit your senses like a punch in the guts. You suddenly awakened, gasping for air like a starving man, and immediately you flinched when the sun mask leaned closer to your face. You couldn’t suppress the tears pushing out of your ducts, streaming down your face in rivers, and you hiccupped when, during your struggle to push yourself back up, you slipped on the blood with your palms and found yourself face-first in it. 

The murderer with the hatchet, who was wearing a moon-themed mask and a costume matching the other maniac, let go of Jake’s body and let it slide down the wall into a sitting position right beside you, making you scream and stumble back into your corner. 

-Please don’t kill me!- you begged, out of your mind with fear, -P-Please, please, I beg you, please d-don’t kill me, I didn’t do anything w-wrong, I didn’t…-

-Oh, we know, sweetie,- cooed the sun mask, his amused voice so sickly sweet it made you want to gag, -We believe you!- 

You couldn’t understand what was happening anymore. Were you in danger? Were they going to kill you as well? Why did they kill Jake in the first place? You were going mad and couldn’t even bring yourself to think, all you wanted to do was go home and huddle yourself into a warm nest of blankets. You wanted to wake up and find that the horrifying reality you were living in was actually nothing more than a horror film-induced nightmare. 

-We believe you, really,- the sun’s voice came down to a docile whisper as one of his gloved hands brushed against your cheek, making you whine and attempt to curl away from his touch. The gloved fingers were cold—so cold. You wanted to puke. -But I’m afraid we can’t let you go away so easily after seeing what happened here.-

His thumb brushed over your parted lips, spreading a drop of blood like it was a gloss, tinting your lips of a deep crimson color, until his finger pressed on the other side of your jaw. You looked up at the man, wide-eyed, as his other huge hand also wrapped around your throat and slowly began to crush your windpipe with his strength. 

-Too bad,- commented the moon-masked man as he began to lean closer. His entire “face”, chest and arms were covered by blood and brain matter, dark and gooey, drenching his white and black top with it, -Would have loved to play a little game with you, just to pass the time, you know? Unfortunately, we still have morals.-

-Yeah,- laughed the sun, -We don’t go for innocent people usually—not unless they give us a reason to dispose of them, of course. Nothing personal, ‘kay? No hard feelings between us?-

You were choking, flailing your hands around while trying to pry his fingers off and scratching yourself in the process, and as your face began to turn red and your vision began to get spotty, your eyes ran from a masked man to the other, hoping at least one of them would have mercy on you.

-Unless,- whispered the moon to his companion, admiring the beautiful way your unconscious body lost all its strength and fell unresponsive on the ground—still far from death, as shown by the slow rise of your chest, -Unless we let this one leave to tell the tale.-

-There’s no tale, Moon,- replied Sun, sending his friend a glare while also parting his hands from your throat. In a few seconds you were probably going to regain consciousness, so he stood up and aimed his bat at your head, -We already talked about this, leaving witnesses is out of the picture. Also, do you mind doing this for me? I already got blood on my gloves, and you know how much I hate finishing them off.-

-But think better about it!- spoke Moon, leaning against the wall, knowing that Sun was not going to give you the final blow himself, -Everyone is town is already aware there’s a pair of fuckers going around killing people, but don’t you think it would make our job much easier if people really started to fear us?-

Sun let go of the bat just to stare at his companion, speechless, like he couldn’t believe the words the other man had said. 

-No, I actually think that would make our job much more difficult,- he said, and Moon scoffed, -People will begin to think we are merciful, which could not be more far from the truth.- 

-I think it would actually show everyone in this city how things work.- Moon put down his hatchet and crossed his arms over his chest, showing Sun that he was actually completely serious. -Innocents will be allowed mercy, while rulebreakers will receive the chop-chop treatment.-

Sun sighed, running one of his gloved hands through his blonde hair in exasperation. 

-First of all, don’t call murdering people “the chop-chop treatment”, that’s weird. Second, you already killed innocents before, so what’s so different now? Third, do you actually believe people will understand?- It was clear, he still didn’t trust Moon’s plan, but Sun never listened to any plan that wasn’t his own, so that didn’t count. 

-They will, if you allow them to live and warn them,- Moon nodded towards your limp body, -Also, the other times it was an accident, okay? Not everything can always go according to plan!-

You were beginning to regain consciousness, groaning on the floor and gasping for air.

-Shit, they’re awake!- Sun said, -Kill them!-

-No, we’re leaving them behind,- insisted Moon, grabbing his friend’s wrist and pulling him away from you, -Trust me just this once, it’ll work out in our favor.- 

Sun was hesitating, looking at you, slowly waking up, then at his companion. He couldn’t figure out the best course of action, so he just groaned and let himself be dragged away. 

-Alright, just this once!- he allowed, -Consider this a treat, Moon, because it won’t happen ever again!-

The duo left through the broken back door, walking into the dark parking lot and looking around for any car or passerby in sight, while you blinked your eyes open on the bloodied floor of the diner where you were mindlessly taking orders and serving customers just a few hours prior. Your whole body was in pain, your arms felt heavy and sore, while your throat felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper both on the inside and on the outside. You finally managed to completely open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, still not believing that you were still alive. What had convinced the two killers to spare you? Which one had mellowed the other into showing mercy? You couldn’t say, there were too many things you couldn’t explain to yourself, but as you turned your head around to look at Jake’s lifeless body next to you, your eyes came to an halt on his chest, where the moon—his killer—had left a plastic bag containing a bunch of colorful pills. For a second you felt dazed, until you understood that the two clowns were leaving a clear message. They didn’t like the idea of people selling drugs to highschoolers, and that was probably the same reason why you were left alive, unscathed except for the blossoming bruises the sun’s hands had left on your neck, red and angry against your skin. They had spared you because you hadn’t hurt anyone;  that explained the words the moon guy had told Jake in the kitchen and why you were still allowed to breathe, but it didn’t excuse the viciousness behind the duo’s actions.

The blood around you was expanding, soaking your hair and work shirt as well, and for some reason your first thought was that it felt incredibly warm, like there was some possibility that Jake was still breathing beside you, like his heart could still be pumping blood in his veins, like you could turn around and see him alive and well. Of course, that wasn’t the case.

You had been graced with life, and that night, on the unswept and bloody floor of a diner, you decided you were going to do everything in your power to keep things that way, in case the astral duo ever changed their minds and came back for you. They had spared you once, and you weren’t going to give them a reason to take that gift back.

[whoopsyeahokay]

Canvas

summary: prompt fill. there's something truly special about the soft moments Wally spends with you in the Art Room. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: fluff. drabble. slice-of-life. being dead isn't so bad.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🎨

Canvas

Sunlight pours through the large windows, music softly playing in the background, the Art Room empty at 7AM in July, apart from you and Wally and the army of Josés—the tabletop mannequins used for anatomical illustration.

Wally's topless, on his stomach across the table in the middle of the room, head pillowed on his arms and his eyes closed. Breaths slow and even. Relaxed even though you're straddling his hips, your weight both calming and exciting.

Every brushstroke sends little tingles shooting under his skin, and he hums or sighs or comments—feels nice—to encourage you to keep going, don't stop, this is the most at peace he's felt since the last time you let him keep you company.

This isn't the first time you've used his body as a canvas, and hopefully won't be the last.

He doesn't know what you're painting. Could be anything. Could be nothing but smears and squiggles. Could be lewd words. Wally doesn't really care much. He simply enjoys spending time with you. Being there for you when you're so deep in your head, you're about to collapse in on yourself and disappear.

Sometimes you have him model for you while you share quiet secrets about your life. Former life. You never have much to say about your death, and Wally respects that. Doesn't pry. You'll tell him eventually. Or maybe you won't, and that's okay too.

He probably shares too much, has a habit of babbling when he's nervous and, the first few times he found you in the Art Room, he couldn't shut himself up. Sat there nattering on while you painted the ocean right on the wall, never saying a word unless Wally stalled. Then you hummed or glanced at him and repeated the last thing he said to coax more of his story from him.

You listened in a way he wasn't used to people doing.

After several intentionally "random" encounters, Wally stopped trying to make it seem like he happened to be there at the right time. Just started showing up when he knew you wanted to purge your latest existential crises with acrylics on whatever surface made itself available.

During crisis six or seven, his arm became that available surface. From wrist to shoulder. A pastel horrorscape with forked-tongued demons in their lacy Lolita best.

Then his leg. His chest. His arm again, both. And both legs. Feet. Hands. Cheeks. Shoulders, neck, eyelids, hair. Now his back.

It soothes something in him, too, if he's being honest. Every sweep of the brush is like the swing of a pendulum, pulling him deeper into a meditative trance. For however long you need him to be still, his mind shuts down and he just...is. Existing without pressure or expectation or a need to react, respond, rebut.

Like a tree, he thinks to himself. Planted and immovable, accepting what comes, growing through the good and the bad, no thoughts, just reaching toward the sun because that's what they're designed to do.

Wally likes being a tree in the soft moments you gift him. He wishes he could be a tree all the time instead of fighting the noise in his brain that otherwise doesn't shut up until it exhausts itself.

Moments like this were sparse for Wally before you joined the afterlife in 2013. Rhonda isn't exactly a calming presence, and Charley's neuroses trigger Wally's more often than they don't. He loves his friends, but they aren't who he seeks out when he needs space to forget he's dead and can't leave school property and everything sucks, he just wants to go to the next block, to the store, to the mall, home—

"Stop twitching," You murmur, face so close to Wally's ear he can feel your breath tickling his skin.

Without looking, he knows you've got your lip between your teeth, eyes narrowed, both hands guiding the tiny brush you use to outline whatever image you've painted on Wally's shoulder.

He doesn't respond. Sinks back into that sweet, easy headspace, half-asleep and comfortable.

When you finish, it takes him several moments to find the energy to lift himself up and check out your work in the nearby bathroom. You follow him, critical of yourself, but, as usual, Wally's impressed. Amazed. Fucking awestruck.

He has no idea what it's supposed to be, but it's layered and deep and colorful, and he loves it. Wishes he could keep it on his skin forever. When he turns around to tell you as much, the words catch in his throat because you've got that look again. Eyes tracing the contours of his chest, and he can see the gears turning in your mind, another idea blooming.

You reach forward, bold, unabashed, and let your fingertips trace an invisible sketch as if trying to calculate the dimensions. Wally swallows when you brush over his nipple, his muscles twitching under your touch.

You purse your lips, consider something, and then, "Come on, I wanna try something else."

Wally nods, breathless, and follows obediently after you as you traipse back to the Art Room. This time he's on his back, hands on your hips, thumbs stroking the skin just under the hem of your shirt while you paint his chest.

He's too relaxed to be turned on by the position; there's time for that later. He just wants to coast on that calm sea and soak in the gentle attention you dote on him when you get like this.

Whatever is on your mind keeps Wally a half-naked evolution of your artistic expression for most of the day. Well until the sun begins to sink below the horizon and you've emptied every tube of blue and purple paint on hand.

When you finally declare that you feel better—"Done," and your smile is soft and a little relieved at the edges—Wally sits up and rolls the stiffness from his shoulders. You stay in his lap, his hands on your hips, thumbs still stroking your skin beneath your shirt.

"Feel better, baby?" He asks, and gazes at you through eyes heavy from dozing.

You nod, lean forward to peck a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Thanks for this." You murmur.

Wally gives you a lazy smile, "Anytime." And, no, really, any. time. because this is always the best he feels.

He looks down at himself, at the forest fantasy you made of his chest and belly. It's beautiful, of course it is, and haunting, and Wally tries to memorize it before it disappears. Either to a reset or—

"Shower?" You ask, your voice low and suggestive, clearly feeling like yourself again.

And as much as Wally loves what you paint on his skin, he loves the idea of having you under a hot spray, paint smearing from his chest to yours, the colors swirling at his feet as he holds you in his arms, against the tile, his lips on yours as he worships your body.

Touches like brushstrokes, kisses like dapples of paint. Making you his own work of art in the way you do to him.

🎨___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

Order Up! MASTERLIST

if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Marshmallow Miles.

fluff. smut lite. Wally needs to get the hell out of Split River. thankfully, he finds the perfect excuse and takes you along for the ride.

[mannequinentity]

👀 from anyone you’d like to yap abt her

Send 👀 and a name, and my muse will share some gossip about that person! | @megitsuneko

He couldn't find himself to lie down and rest away where nights were a coin toss. If he could choose a place dissolved of tribulations, where he wouldn't have to succumb to where dreams felt real, it would be anywhere with the absence of sound itself. Who knows, there's a possibility of seeing his master in dreamland. Some nights offered contentment, while some were nightmarish within his drench of sweat.

It was three o'clock in the morning with the pounding rain outside his apartment window. He's almost in pitch black darkness, except for a lamp on his work table, along with a workbook to learn the intricacies of the human anatomy. Two hours had passed since he started, with five pages worth of notes to remember for later. This was a decent distraction to cleanse his anxieties, where his bed's encouraging him to get some sleep.

Arms crossed on the table before digging his head in them to take a break from taking every information inside the book. If he's not careful, he will fall asleep on the chair. But to make him gossip about Tsuyuko herself, he was not keen on answering this, but not everyone is a lovable angel after all.

Not even himself if he's constantly finding peace of mind to mesh these homicidal thoughts to a standstill.

"I...don't know..." He admitted before closing his eyes to listen to the rain for a few seconds. "When - knowing her, I feel there's something not-" A heavy sigh, attempting to gather his thoughts for once. "There's always that certain feeling you have, when you meet some people and- they're not really there. I can't see her, I don't know how to- describe that."

Some people are made solid, and he can't see behind them, while others he can pass through if he sticks his arm out through their body. He's sure others saw him as a solid or a transparent piece of nothingness. It's just about how they interpret who's real, or who's the masked persona hiding their skinless face.

"But, that just goes with anybody, meeting them and having smiles." He rubs his eyes to ward off this morning fatigue. "I don't know if- I can, see myself either in the mirror."

___

There's many stories untold, all of them true and not in any way false or fabricated at all. Anyone can trust this dirt stained, eye bagged looking cockroach. He has a million sins he can dig through from his collection of memories. Her secrets no less of an abhorrent succubus.

"Well well, you found the perfect person because-" He looks left and right to see if she's spying on him anywhere. "She has done terrible things, horrible, abominable things to people. I saw her once with a gentlemen. Guess what she did?"

He took a deep breath, exhaling a ball of air before the explosion to detonate.

"SHE KILLED THE FUCKER AND WORE HIS HEART LIKE A NECKLACE, LIKE A TROPHY! I TOLD YOU SHE WAS A SUCCUBUS! NO ONE LISTENED TO ME!" He never told anybody other than his inner demons. "Wait, what if she ate him? SHE DID, DIDN'T SHE? I thought for sure there were some stains around her lips. SHE GOBBLED HIM UP GOBBLEGOBLEGOBLEGOBLE!" He mimicked a turkey eating a pair of nothing within the palms of his hands.

Huff huff huff...

"Be careful out there people. She WILL steal your heart."

[moonselune]

Could I please request headcanons or a Drabble for postgame Tailor!Astarion x reader? The worms are eating my brain I can’t stop thinking about him pinning dresses on his s/o with a measuring tape round his neck

The brain worms entered my head as well upon reading this

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tailor!Astarion xf!reader | The Most Beautiful Mannequin

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion worked with a meticulous grace, his hands sure and steady as they roamed over your body, pinning fabric here and there. It was strange, to see him in this domestic light. Gone was the battle-hardened vampire spawn with his daggers and shortswords in hand, now replaced by a man who had found peace in the art of tailoring, his fingers just as deft with needle and thread as they’d been with blades.

The light of the afternoon sun spilled through the window of your shared home, bathing the room in a warm glow. You stood in front of the mirror, dressed in little more than the fabric he’d carefully draped over you, while Astarion worked around you like an artist with his masterpiece.

He was muttering something to himself, eyes narrowed in concentration as he adjusted the hem of the dress. A length of measuring tape hung around his neck, and a handful of pins were tucked between his lips, their metallic gleam catching the light. Every now and then, he’d pluck one from his mouth and secure a fold of fabric, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a shiver up your spine.

“You know,” he said around the pins, his voice slightly muffled but still carrying that familiar, teasing lilt, “this would go much faster if you could stay still for even half a minute.”

“I’m trying,” you protested, though the soft laugh that followed betrayed your amusement. “It’s not easy when you keep poking me with pins.”

“Well, if you didn’t wriggle so much, my dear, I wouldn’t have to poke you,” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he removed the pins from his mouth and placed them on a nearby table. “Honestly, you’d think you’d never been fitted for a dress before.”

“Not by someone like you,” you murmured, letting your eyes linger on him for a moment. He wore a simple linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the pale, smooth skin of his forearms, and there was a casual elegance to him that made your heart skip a beat.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he replied with a smirk, though you could see the faint flush that crept up his neck. “Now, arms up. I need to see how this falls.”

You obliged, lifting your arms as he instructed, and he stepped closer, his body brushing against yours as he adjusted the fabric over your shoulders. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the gentle press of his fingers as they smoothed out a crease. His touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid that one wrong move might tear the delicate material—or perhaps tear you.

He took a step back, scrutinizing his work with a critical eye, before making another adjustment, his fingers brushing against your waist.

“Much better,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “You know, I must say, you do make for quite the lovely mannequin.”

“Mannequin?” you repeated, giving him a mock glare. “I didn’t realize I’d been reduced to nothing more than a glorified coat hanger.”

“Well, if you could refrain from moving every other second, perhaps I could start seeing you as something more,” he teased, his lips quirking into that familiar, devilish grin. “But alas, you’re not making it easy, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable,” he shot back without missing a beat, stepping closer once more.

This time, his hands rested on your hips, his touch lingering, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he leaned in, his breath ghosting against your ear.

“Besides,” he murmured, “it’s not every day I get to play dress-up with the most beautiful person in all the realms.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely.

“You’re incorrigible,” you muttered.

“And yet, you adore me,” he replied smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck before he pulled away to continue his work.

For a while, you stood there in comfortable silence, letting him work his magic. Every so often, you’d catch him stealing glances at you in the mirror, a soft, almost tender expression crossing his face before he quickly masked it with that practiced smirk. It was those moments that made your heart ache with affection, that reminded you just how much he’d changed, how far you’d both come since the days of endless battles and bloodshed.

“There,” he said finally, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “What do you think?”

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, your breath catching in your throat. The dress was exquisite, the fabric hugging your body in all the right places, the cut and stitching flawless. It was a work of art, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it suited you, as if it had been made for you—and in a way, it had.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, turning to face him, your eyes shining with gratitude. “You’re amazing, Astarion.”

He shrugged, though you could see the pride in his eyes, the way his chest puffed out just a little.

“Well, I do try,” he said, though his voice was softer now, more genuine. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” you corrected, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “And I love you.”

He blinked, his eyes widening slightly before he let out a soft laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Always so sentimental,” he teased, though there was no bite to his words, only warmth. “But for once, I suppose I’ll allow it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “For everything.”

He hummed, a pleased sound rumbling in his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Anything for you, darling,” he murmured against your lips, his eyes shining with a love that made your heart feel like it might burst. “Anything at all.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh I actually adore Tailor!Astarion so much, and I hope you guys adore him too! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[yoongikapi]

couples matching || chs || drabbles

fluff

atz masterlist

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

❥ matching sweaters!

the mannequins at the mall displayed a set of matching couple sweaters and he immediately thought of how cute it’d look on you. no heasitation, he buys two of them and rushes home to show you

❥ matching keychains!

he takes you to your favorite store and you show him some keychains you’ve been eyeing. he falls deeper in love with you as you fangirl over how cute they are. he buys them and the two of you help each other put them on your bags

❥ matching lockscreens!

the two of you giggle while taking pictures of each other, you try to hide your face but he takes your hands in his and removes them, quickly taking a picture. he sets it as his lockscreen and you do the same with him

<3

[kaylinlmfao]

i hate you! but oh how i love you

type of piece: imagine, drabble, oneshot, series

type(s) of writing: smut, fluff, angst, dark, suggestive

warning(s): mentions of sexual stuff but no actual smut in this part, teasing,, murder, violence, gore, this is mostly just plot

pairings(s): dark!dom!ethan landry x sub!fem!reader

A/N: here is a special, dark fic for a treat for me and for you guys. keep the requesting coming! I love this request, more like this one please! thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy! this is part 1 (no smut just plot)

if i wrote an ethan x fem fanfiction and kinda combined the elements of my oneshots and put them into an actual book would y'all read it? (on wattpad)

just a couple of different things from the movie in this fic. sam, tara, kirby, and chad all die. so do quinn and bailey. all killed by ethan. ethan survives and we'll see where it goes from there.

"ok, ew. get a room you two." you say to tara and chad, accidentally walking in on them kissing. "how about you get a room? we already have one. this room." tara tells you, laughing. she knows you're excited for her. she's liked chad for as long as you can remember. your smile fades as you look behind her. "TARA MOVE!" you shout as the masked killer drives a knife into tara's back. she lets out a cry of pain as chad begins dodging and fighting the killer. "oh my god, tara." you run over to help her up off the floor. "it's ok. it's ok" you try to reassure yourself. you lift tara off the floor, slinging her arm over your shoulder as you try to get her to the door.

"chad! come on" you shout as he kicks the ghostface hard, then rushing over to help you with tara. you swing open the door. "oh my god!" tara shouts. you scream as you see sam barrel through the door. she looks at the three of you in shock before chad starts rushing us to go. "come on, go go go." he ushers us through the door as i glance back at the figure, struggling to get up from their place on the ground. "it's kirby! she's the killer!" sam exclaims as you all are running through the theater. "no shit!" chad runs over to the door you came in before being stopped. "it's locked. come on." "so we're trapped?" you ask, full of fear. this isn't your first rodeo with ghostface, oh no, but you always feel a huge wave of fear when seeing the mask. whether you see a person wearing the mask on the street, or seeing an actual killer wearing it, it brings back bad memories of your ex girlfriend.,

"kirby made this whole theater a kill box. for us." sam voices. tara spins and points upwards. "hey, what about that? there's an exit door. maybe it leads to the roof or something?" she asks, breathless. "there's only one way to find out. let's go." chad orders, grabbing tara's hand. i grip sam's hand as we turn to run. suddenly, another masked ghostface comes out from behind the curtain, swinging their knife. with an extra hard swing, one of the mannequin heads goes flying. "beheadings!" chad shouts, tackling the killer. "chad!" you shout, pointing to the camera behind him as sam rushes to help tara. "smile for the camera motherfucker" chad exclaims, swinging the camera, the figure on the floor flying back from the force of the blow

you push the movie curtain past you quickly, running through. "over there!' tara points as ghostface comes barreling from somewhere behind you. you take the lead, running down the narrow hallway, just trying to get away. another masked killer appears on the opposite end of the hall. now, you're all blocked in from both sides. before chad turns and throws the camera he's still holding at the pursuer behind you. "get fucked!" he shouts. you run into the room you began in, chad pulling the popcorn machine down in front of the figure rushing after you all. the killer swings his knife at chad, aiming to slice and dice. sam and tara each grab one of it's arms, pulling the person back. you subtlety turn, looking for the metal baseball bat you brought for protection. bingo. you grab it from where you leaned it against the wall while talking to chad and tara.

you take the bat in your hands, shout a loud battle cry, and swing at the masked figure, hard. they go flying to the floor with a loud cry of pain. it's a female. now more proof that it's kirby. tara pulls her foot back, crying out from the strain on her wound, and kicks the masked person on the floor, hard. "holy shit tara. brutal" you say, grabbing her and sam, backing up as chad picks up a glass machine off of the counter. "you hit them with a baseball bat" sam counters as chad fixes to throw the glass on the ghostface writhing in pain on the floor. you chuckle with pride. "i know." you see something behind chad that makes you scream in fear. "chad!" you cry, trying to warn him. you're too late, and you watch as the killer drives their knife into you're best friend's side. "no!" you and tara shout in unison. sam holds tara back, gripping your arm at the same time.

the other killer stands and they begin stabbing chad, over and over. you're on the verge of breaking down, again. deja vu. and your boyfriend ethan and mindy still haven't shown yet. you hope and pray that everyone survives this as you turn, unable to watch the scene in front of you, but knowing that there is nothing you can do to help chad. "run" he mouths to you, smiling sadly, blood flowing freely from his mouth and the other wounds on his torso. his body falls to the floor, and the two masked killers wipe their knifes in one swift motion. you run with tara and sam, vision blinded by tears. you cry out in surprise as another ghostface emerges from behind the curtain. the masked killer from before appears on the other side, shaking and waving their knife at you.

sam reaches down and picks up three bricks, handing one to tara and offering one to you. with a shake of your head, you decline. "i've got this" you say, readying your bat to begin swinging. you, tara, and sam form a triangle, tara and yourself gripping hands, sobbing. "ready?" sam asks as tara lets out a cry. "i need you both to be ready? ready?" she repeats. you nod, reaching for her hand, closing the circle. your holding onto sam and tara's hands for dear life, watching as the two sisters reach for the others hand. "deja vu" you whisper. "look at me" sam orders you and tara. "ready?" you glance at sam, then at tara. you may not be blood, but these are your sisters. "im ready" tara tells her. they both look at you. "ready as ill ever be" you say with a smirk, slinging your bat over your shoulder. "come on motherfucker!" tara screams, baiting the masked figure behind you.

suddenly, a loud gunshot sounds from behind you and you see kirby emerge from behind the movie curtain. "it's ok." she attempts to calm the three of you. "stay the fuck back!" sam shouts. "we know it's you kirby." tara tells her. "no! one of them knocked me out." she says, breathless and panting. "kirby stop! get away from the girls" detective bailey orders, pointing his gun at her. kirby mirrors his motions, pointing her gun at him too. "what are you doing?" kirby questions. "did you kill quinn? did you kill my daughter?!" bailey asks, distraught. "jesus christ! whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him. he's probably the killer." a ghostface appears behind the detective. "behind you!" kirby shouts, trying to warn him. two gunshots are fired and kirby falls to the ground. "holy shit." you say, shocked. "great job" bailey praises the ghostface standing behind him. "oh fuck this fucking shit. you cheap fuck!" you scream, staring at kirby's body in shock.

another ghostface emerges from behind detective bailey. "both of you" "you?" tara asks, still in shock. "yeah, of course me. frankly, i expected more from the two of you after what you did to us." "what do you mean us?" the one on bailey's left pulls her mask off. "quinn?" (i know i changed the order but it fits my idea better) sam asks in shock. "hey roomies. you didn't see that one coming did you?" "yeah, because you died!" "kinda didn't though. it was a good way to get off the suspect list. stab gale weathers, stab mindy on the train, that sort of thing." "yeah, and i just made sure i was first on the scene so i could switch her body out with a fresh one. little fake blood, a prosthetic. you'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with" you jump a little, pumping your fist. "i fucking knew it! i knew it! i told you guys that she wasn't dead, but you didn't believe me! i told you, i said she wasn't dead. the blood on her walls was fake. I FUCKING KNEW IT!" "so who's the other one?" "mindy?" you ask, breath caught in your throat.

the mask was pulled off and your legs buckled at seeing your beloved boyfriend, ethan. you fell to your knees, feeling the rush of emotions that you felt a year ago come back to you. ethan looks at you with a deranged look in his eyes. "mindy was right. it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. all i had to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named chad. fuck, it felt good to kill him!" ethan continued speaking but you tuned him out. you couldn't stand to hear his voice or look at his face. you couldn't do this again. you just couldn't. the emotions were flooding you, the feelings overwhelming. you stared down at the floor, tears dripping onto the floor. feelings of hopelessness, sadness, betrayal all coursed through your veins. but soon they were all covered with a thick blanket of rage. red hot rage.

you stood, reminding yourself to stay strong. staring at the ground, tears still slipping down your cheeks. "i got stu macher's mask. he was my favorite." quinn says. "nice. that's number three, and that's number two." he pulls a ghostface mask from within his jacket. "which leaves, your sister's" he says pointing at you. "who's your sister?" tara whispers. "jill roberts" you whisper, still looking at the floor in shame. "this is what we've been counting down to, y/n. i'm gonna need you to put it on." bailey looks at you, holding the mask out to you. so broken. "fuck you!" you hear sam yell on behalf of you. ethan swings and slices open sam's upper arm. "ok! ok! im taking it, jesus. you psychopath" you glare at the boy you once thought you loved. you take the mask in your hands and stare down ashamed at it. you feel someone slip behind you to come stand in front of you. you know it's ethan. you know. he grips your chin, pulling your chin up to point your gaze at him. "oh princess. there's nothing to be ashamed of." he stares deep into your eyes, noticing how cold they are. you've never looked at him like this before.

but it's ok. he has a plan. and eventually, you'll get over it and understand. and you'll be his, though you have been since the day he saw you for the first time. he backs up to stand next to his father and sister. you were still staring at the mask that you held. suddenly, you heard commotion from behind you and saw the fight begin. but you couldn't. you couldn't fight. you didn't have it in you. quinn and bailey vs sam and tara. it wasn't a fair fight, that's for sure. sam and tara didn't have any weapons. you could help them a little bit but then you needed to find a way out of this stupid theater. you ran over to kirby and saw that she was still conscious, but barely. "i'm gonna need this. ill go get help. i promise" you whisper softly. kirby looks at you hard for a moment, and you share a moment of understanding before she slipped into unconsciousness.

you turn, feeling eyes on you. ethan. he isn't helping his father or sister. it's as though his only focus is you. his stare is scaring you, and though you'd never admit it, causing a heat to rush down to your core. damn him. you hate him. you do. but, oh. how you love him. (see what i did there lol?) you walk towards tara and sam, crying out when you feel someone coming up behind you, grabbing you by your throat and yanking you against their upper body. "fuck you, ethan!" you yell, drawing the attention from both your family and his. "but sweetheart, we already did that. i love to to do it again though." he whispers, kissing your neck softly. you bring your elbow forward and elbowing him hard, taking ethan by surprise and giving you just enough to to slip out of his grasp. "sam!" you shout, getting her attention from quinn advancing on her.

"catch" you bring your hand back and throw kirby's gun. for a split second, you think she won't catch it. it will slip from her grasp and everything will go downhill from there. and so it does. the gun slips and falls down to the ground, where you try to grab it. but a tall, 6'2 figure stands in your way. you're on your knees and he's standing in front of you. you're eye level with his bulge. you remember this position all too well. and judging by the smirk on ethan's face, he remembers it pretty well too. he opens his mouth to speak, probably to say something that will infuriate you further. "oh just shut up! oh my god, you bent, twisted motherfucker!" you yell, standing quickly.

your breath catches in your throat as you realize how close you are to ethan. the height difference between the two of you was causing you to be eye level with his chest. you could see his muscles in his chest as he took a deep breath. you feel his fingers lifting your chin, so gentle, like you were glass and ethan was afraid to put the slightest crack on you. your eyes meet ethan's and you almost whimper. ethan's gaze on you is nothing like he's ever looked at you like before. full of lust, looking at you like he was going to devour you. "ethan" you breathe, so quiet, so soft. you quickly snapped out of the trance he had you in and dove, grabbing the gun off the ground and pointing it at ethan.

ethan began slowly walking towards you. "put the gun down princess." he says it as he normally would, but you feel mocked and teased. "you better back the fuck up unless you want a bullet in between your eyes, princess." you mock him, quickly walking backwards until your back is met with a hard surface. ethan continues walking towards you until there is only a enough space to put the gun against his chest in between the two of you. he glances down at it and then back at you as he speaks. "oh? don't talk like that. we both know you wouldn't be able to pull the trigger, sweet girl" you blush at the nickname and you know he sees.

"go ahead, pull the trigger." you freeze up as he move closer to the point where you have to move the gun, the butt pressing painfully against your chest. you hear the commotion going on in the background, but with the way ethan is standing above you with a bloody hands, it's making you dizzy and you feel like you're gonna pass out. you feel your head empty just as he somehow always caused it to do. it takes an extreme amount effort to get your head straight, telling yourself that this isn't ethan. it isn't the ethan you fell in love with, at least.

you swallow. "fuck you." you whisper, feeling the burning tension between the both of you. ethan chuckles as his expression turns to one of even deeper lust. you feel his hot breath on your face as you get angrier at the slick forming in your panties. "fuck you." "i hate you so much. i hate you for doing this to me and for breaking my fucking heart. i wish–" you stop at as ethan begins to speak. "what do you want, sweetheart? keep fucking talking, slut. keep trying to convince me you hate me." his gaze drifts to your lips. "i hate you" you sob. you're interrupted by the feeling of your mouths crashing together in a rough, lustfilled kiss. and, to your own surprise, you don't fight it. you can't bring yourself to shove him away. the sexual tension between the two of you had gone to the point of being unbearable, and the harsh way his lips move against yours and the way his tongue probes into your mouth makes you light headed.

ethan pulls away and looks at your lust filled, scared expression. "that's what i thought. you still want me, even i killed all your friends." you shake your head with a whimper, tears running down your cheeks. "i don't want you." you whisper. "oh my pretty girl. so confused, aren't you? don't you remember you cockdrunk and sobbing after i fucked you just last night?" he brings his lips to your ears, whispering. "when you couldn't say anything at all? all you could do was cry and beg me to stop touching your sensitive cunt and your puffy little clit? and i know you want to do it again. dirty little whore. my dirty little whore."

'i don't want you" you say, more trying to convince yourself than trying to convince ethan. he laughs, glancing down at your tear streaked face and big doe eyes. "ok, little one. ok" you wiped your tears quickly and shoved him off of you, turning and running down the nearest hallway. "you don't have to run, you know. I'm gonna catch you no matter how fast you are." you hear. ethan’s voice is cold and irritated as he stalks towards the hallway you just turned into. you're distracted as you trip over a gap in the hardwood floor and come crashing to the floor, and then, the sound of his steps hurrying up to meet you fill your heart with even more fear. your heart is already racing from the adrenaline of trying to escape the psychopath that you once called your boyfriend. The bloody tip of his knife rounds the corner before he does, and it's enough to fuel your desire to get up and stumble around the nearest corner, into a bathroom.

you slam the door behind you with the force of your body against it, and attempt to fumble with the lock for a split second before running to grab the nearest object, a marble vase to try and buy you a few seconds. It's not even seconds until he's turning the knob, trying to get in. the door rattling the entire room suddenly and your heart hitting the floor as he speaks. "open the door, my love. i won't hurt you as long as you behave." you're not allowed even a second opportunity to look for a way out, to even consider the option of jumping out the second story window on to the concrete below, or just hide and pray for mercy. Because three loud, earth-shattering crashes of his shoulder meeting the hardwood door splinters it almost immediately after the third hit, and you're so close to the door that one of those shards flies and slices open the heel of your hand–and now, instead of using those few precious moments to come up with a plan to get away, you're crying and grabbing your wrist in pain, blood gushing from the wound and splattering all over the white tile floor.

the pain derails your whole train of thought, your vision blurring with tears as you fall back and shake with shock, leaving a trail of crimson blood on the tile behind that leads straight to you. one more crash of ethan's shoulder against the door does the trick, and ethan has successfully crushed a hole in the bathroom door, his arm reaching through to unlock it so it only takes a quick kick to open. "man, you made me break the door. this is probably pretty valuable" his eyes turn to you, bright and brown and angry. "and you cut your wrist." ethan reaches out for you, and doesn't stop when you flinch away from him. you have nowhere else to go, no way out, what are you gonna do? you're aren't a threat to anyone but yourself. you're a helpless little thing, and when ethan does grab you, he's gripping your wrists so hard you're already begging him to stop and let go. "why don't you beg me not to kill you, princess?" he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face, behind your ear to whisper it directly into your ear–his voice makes you shiver, like it's a cold breeze in the across your neck. "i'm kinda considering it. you're pissing me off. you won't stop running away from me"

"what now? why are you looking at me like that?" he moves away from you to meet your eyes, but the fear is clear in yours–you watched him help murder your best friends, your family. what does he think you are? happy? no, you're petrified. "i'm so scared…" "scared? I'm scaring you?" You nod your head in the most pathetic fashion, with a quivering lip to top it off. ethan isn't just scary. A horror movie is scary, a bump in the night is scary. ethan, he's utterly terrifying.

"Then why are you soaking wet?" His question stops your mind in it's tracks, confusion etched on your face, but your stuttering and stammering stops short when you feel his big hand brush your thigh. you jerk away from him on instinct, but his harsh grip on your hurt arm keeps you flush against him, and you're forced to stand and shiver as his fingers fly under your skirt and they come to cup your pussy over your panties. he rubs a teasing thumb into what should be a random spot, but he knows where your clit is from past experience and knows how to press so firmly and hard to make you squeal. even your body is betraying you right now, and that strip of soft fabric between your legs is completely soaked for him to enjoy to the fullest. "you want this. you want me, huh? so bad that you're soaked" you shake your head no violently, too wound up to open your mouth because you know the words won't come out the way you want them to.

"yeah, that's it. you want me to fuck your brains out. you just want my attention. that's why you're running from me. you want me to catch you." "No!" you sob, trying to push him away again. ethan ignores your outburst and the shove you try to give him to get him off, ethan yanks you harder against him for you to feel how hard he is beneath the ghostface costume he's wearing, and for his fingers to prod you even rougher as he blindly searches for a way into your panties. "I don't want you ethan!" "You do!" He barks back, the growl of his voice sending an unwanted cold shiver up your spine. now he's found a way in, his fingertips brushing your folds before losing any gentle or tenderness they might have had and pushing their way inside. He's big, brutal, fingers working in to spread you out and shucking all that wet slick into his palm. his lips meet your cheek, hot and soft, and he has you hooked. nothing but him

you feel his breath hot and shaky on your ear. He doesn't seem to care you're up on your tiptoes, gasps of pain and pleasure dying in your throat, because he's got his fingers so fucking deep. ethan is preoccupied, you know as much by the absent strokes against your clit with his thumb, moving in no specific direction. "so pretty like this. blood on your face, crying for me." ethan pulls away suddenly, cheek still sticky with blood you wish was fake. it's on you too, smeared down your jaw like a smudge of scarlet paint, and his hands are covered in it too, that he's rubbing it into you for his own pride and sick pleasure. while he looks you in the eyes, he doesn't move his fingers from inside you, nor shows any expression aside from a deep, dark lust over his brown eyes that betrays the terror that a true psychopath could bestow.

"Your body is mine. this pretty pussy is mine. You're all mine." He mutters below his breath, spreading his fingers inside you to watch you gasp and your eyelids flutter as they fill with tears. you let out a loud cry as you coat ethan's fingers with your cum. as you come down from your high, you think about how wrong this is. your friends, they would want you to get out. they would want you to get to the hospital and tell mindy and gale before ethan got there first. "get away from me" you say, shoving ethan away hard. "but i don't want to. i want you to ride me and milk my cock until you're crying" he says it so innocently, it infuriates you to no end. "shut the fuck up!" he opens his mouth again to probably say something even dirtier, but you don't let him. maybe it's time to take a different approach. "you really want my pussy to clench around you? to milk you dry while i cry and scream your name? you want me to jump on your fucking dick until i can't think?" you ask him in a sultry tone.

he groans loudly. "fuck yeah, princess. i do. and i fucking will every single thing you just said right here, in every damn room in this fucking theater. you'll be so fucked out and overstimulated you'll be begging me to stop." "oh?" you tilt your head, looking at him. this is it. he moves towards you slowly, away from the destroyed door. "well ethan. let's do it then." you feel his big hand on the back of your neck as he slams your lips onto his. you quickly bring your knee straight up, nailing him in the dick. "well, you can't do any of those things if i cut your fucking dick off, can you?" your mood changed so fast you couldn't even regulate it. it was like you had an alternate, darker personality. just like ethan. you look at him, a deranged and feral look in your eyes. ethan wasn't scared. he was turned on. and now, he was pissed as fuck and in pain. he wanted to pound you until you cried, remind you who could make you feel so small so quickly. you stomp hard on ethan's foot as he cried out in pain. "you wanna know my secret? it wasn't sam who sliced up your brother. it was me. after he fucking groomed my girlfriend." that part was not true either. it was also not true when people said you were just like your sister. but he doesn't need to know that. ethan almost came in his pants. you were so hot when you were feral, though it was acting and he knew it.

you turned and ran out the door while he was distracted. you needed to get help. some of your friends could be alive. "man, i should get an oscar. that was some amazing acting if i do say so myself" but before you could find an exit, someone pulled you back. it wasn't ethan, it was kirby. she was still on the floor, barely conscious. she grabbed your ankle and you leaned down slowly. "im going to get help. it's ok." you attempt to reassure her. "get out of here. there is an exit behind the back hallway. there's a room behind there. it's soundproof, it's what they used for filming and editing. there is door that leads outside. go" she struggled to finish speaking before she passed out again. you followed her instructions, turning past chad and bolting towards the door. you're running fast, and you speed around a corner. next thing you know, you run into a hard chest and you're sprawled out on your back. sharp curses leave your mouth as you stare up at ethan. "fuck me" you curse. ethan smirks. "that's the plan, princess."

send in requests I beg

[tht0nesimp]

indulgent Drabble…

Idea: so have any of you guys seen those AU things where it’s like being a Yandere is a normal thing, so if you’ve seen season four you know about the wrong timeline things so like what if they ended up in one of those or this was one or something, this is probably not very well written…

tw: spoilers but not like specific instances just like information,Yandere bcs…it’s my blog, kidnapping, non consensual…everything?, normalized stuff idefk , Five is inspired by a Yandere five fic I read once I won’t even lie

thinking of them all having their little darlings and how they treat them >.<

Luther’s darling is getting it probably some of the best, he pays, and he really wants them to love him! Really! He just…don’t get mad when he breaks all your stuff, he knows that you had an ex and that the object was important, but you can’t be mad! People see you two and are probably a little off put because likely you are dwarfed by him unless your a body builder or something, he doesn’t mind, just please don’t make him do anything….:(

Diego and a little spitfire, they’re likely someone Hellbent on fighting it, clawing and biting. Hair frazzled, likely to have a hole or tear in they're clothes—he doesn’t really mind, even when he has to drag you into the mansion, the others having some level of understanding of what he’s going through because…they’ve all done it, to varying degrees of lengths and extremities. He never felt healthy love before and it’s damn sure his dad don’t love ‘em so he truly doesn’t understand why you can’t just accept love?

Allison who makes sure her precious little mannequin is well known as hers, people envy you, an amazing actor with enough money to last a lifetime?! You might be able to run off and find a closet to huddle up in at home, but she won’t be patient with misbehavior in front of the media, you will find yourself on the wrong side of a chain if you try anything. Probably not a big fan of introducing you to people personally, she loves the flashy couples stuff; at least 2 dozen roses might make up for it? Right?

Klaus is barely making it, his other siblings likely pay for and/or babysit for him. He doesn’t snap very often like his siblings, he sees you as an angel! But, not a person. Truly, I think not only would the being forced to be around a very active addict but he won’t let you do anything outside of a hobby or two! He rarely leaves you alone, and to be honest he probably uses a chain or restraints all the time because even if he can come back, he’s not physically the strongest guy—but past that, he’s always eager to help you with bathing or eating or baking or drawing or writing or drinking or meditating or relaxing or sleeping or making the bed or cleaning up or driving or going outside(ofc with him, can’t have his little martyr running around! What if someone recognizes you as his and and and the debt collectors collect you!?) or any possible task, he’ll learn to cook or bake so you don’t have to! Just ignore the small white grains on his credit card….please! He won’t get angry commonly, if ever, but in the very rare chance he gets angry it’s best to just shut up and try not to make the voice begging him to tie you back up any louder.

Five and the little doll he carries around, always looking lost and glazed over, or maybe a girl who is eerily like him, either way, he’s dressing them up in whatever he wants. He likely drugs them pretty consistently, it makes him feel good to have someone who will thank him when he takes care of them, even if they don’t know what’s going on whatsoever. His siblings are surprised at the ice cream dates and picnics he sets up, people smile at him when he goes to get you a milkshake, the guy behind the bar laughing when five pours a little packet of powder into your drink and stirs it—happily accepting the man’s offer to top up your whipped cream, so you don’t get distressed about it—all in all, atleast his darling will never have to do anything for themselves…ever again

Viktor happily plays instruments for you, learning your favorites so he can serenade and impress you. He tries to be as accommodating as possible, so patient and okay with your panic that he succeeds in comforting you. He’ll even let you help him at the bar once you get settled in, people find it adorable when you and him work together you don’t really do anything

They probably don’t have playdates very often, but the most to least well behaved would probably go

Viktors darling—Viktors humanity pays off, and his darling likely comes to terms pretty quickly, asking him nicely for things and even letting him touch them willingly!

Luther’s darling—All in all, they probably don’t have all too much to complain about. They’re awkward, but the darling isn’t clawing at him or anything

Allison’s darling—no cameras? Her darling is probably playing a Nintendo switch on a couch somewhere in the mansion, avoiding the wackos

fives darling—He’s trying, and so are they, but they’re a little out of it most of the time. I won’t give them credit for behaving because they don’t even know they’re doing something good by clinging to torso they wake up on every morning or by not biting the hand that feeds them dinner every night

Klaus Darling—Trying to run like all hell, but klaus just pulls them into whatever room has been set up for the meetup and wraps a friendly arm around them for the rest of the event

Diego’s darling—Biting at him, breaking things, all hell will break loose and he will be chuckling at his siblings as his darling tries to stab him with a fork

—

Maybe I should write more in depth personal series about it??? Who would yall wanna see first??? All of them?? SEASON 4 IS STUPID AND I HATE IT >:(