#look in horror as i tag every single one of these characters

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (13)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: My hand was the one you reached for

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Stockholm Syndrome, infidelity, manipulative Aegon, discussion of character death. Smut, fingering, using murder as dirty talk, hand job, public sex.

Aemma's coin has finally flipped, but where will it land? Greatness or madness?

Tag list: @callsignwidow

You aren't sure how or when it happened, but it's as though something inside you snapped, slowly but surely shifted your love and loyalty from your mother to Aegon. All your plans, all the playing pretend melted away until it became your reality. When did that happen? When did you become so pathetic? Was it the abject horror of seeing Aemond loving another woman in Harrenhal? Or were you always this weak?

"You seem deep in thought." Aegon looks down at you, head tilted slightly so that the rubies of the Conqueror's crown glitter in the sunlight.

"I suppose," you respond dully.

He hums in annoyance before looking away abruptly. You aren't sure why he insists on walking with you through the gardens, but it was the one reprieve he allowed after your escape. You're kept under a smothering watch at all times now except for when Aegon fetches you for your daily walk. He never lets you go with guards. It has to be him, and you just don't understand it.

Annoyance rises in you, bitter and dark. "I don't understand!"

"What don't you understand?"

Lots of things. You don't understand lots of things, but you don't want to discuss the complicated relationship between the two of you, so you say, "You told Aemond to seduce the witch. Why? Why would you do that?"

Aegon tosses his head back and laughs. "Is that what the bastard told you? And he says I'm the degenerate one."

"Aegon, this isn't the time for jokes. I want the truth." You turn to him fully and he's struck suddenly by the fire in your eyes. It's been so long since he's seen it he thought you'd given up your spark completely.

But of course not.

Of course your fire is still there because his is still there.

Aegon still burns every second of every day for you. The two of you are the last flickering twin flames of Old Valeyria, meant to merge together and raze down everything standing in its way. He loves you, desires you, needs you more than Aemond possibly could.

"You want the truth, my little dragon?" He steps closer to you, following as you move away from him. "I'll give you the truth, but I want you to remember that it was I to do so... not Aemond."

You suck in a deep breath, overwhelmed by Aegon's presence crowding you against a tree. Rough bark bites into your exposed back and arms. Suddenly, the gauzy dress you chose this morning doesn't feel like it covers enough.

"Aemond would never lie to me," you eventually say.

"I see. Is that why he blamed me? All I told him was to keep the witch loyal to us. I don't give a single fuck about her happiness or comfort... but Aemond does, doesn't he?" Aegon traces his thumb across your bottom lip before continuing.

"Let me guess: he told you not to worry and that she could never compare. I've told Helaena the same about my whores. I suppose, in a round about way, it's the truth. She's kinder than them, more of a proper lady. She deserves better."

You want to strike out at Aegon, your palm itches for it, but you stay still. He pets you so gently, running his hands over your body in a comforting way that brings tears to your eyes. You want to ask him why he doesn't give her better if she deserves it, but you already know the answer.

You.

Aegon has spent years pining over you, spiraling when you were taken away like some sort of toy. He's a spoiled brat. You love him anyway... but you love Aemond as well.

"Is love enough?" Your voice comes out as barely a whisper.

"Enough for what?"

"Anything." For Aemond to be loyal, but you don't say it out loud.

Aegon knows what you want to say, but won't say. He knows you better than anyone. Maybe even better than you know yourself. "Love is enough for us if you'll allow it."

Your lips curl up in a wry smile. "You're being awfully sweet today, Your Majesty."

"Maybe it's because I see where my brother is failing and I decided I need to take this chance."

"Failing on your orders."

"Not my orders. I never told him to fuck her, but we both know that's what he's doing." Aegon presses his lips to yours, hot and persistent. "Don't you want revenge, little dragon?"

Yes.

Yes, you do want revenge.

You want blood and revenge and for this foreign anger inside you to end.

Aegon's lips trail from your lips to the column of your neck, teeth sinking into your skin every so often while his hands grip your waist. He grinds into you and you feel the delicious drag of his hard cock between your thighs. "I have plenty of information from the witch. So much that her life means nothing to me now. You could kill her if you wanted."

Kill her?

"H-have you ever killed anyone?" The idea makes you nervous, but it's hard to concentrate on those nerves when Aegon's hands are slowly bunching your dress around your waist.

"Yes. Would you like to hear about it?" He nips at your ear, chuckling darkly when you yelp. Two of his fingers circle your clit before dipping into your cunt and he moans when he finds you absolutely soaking wet.

You nod, letting out a little whimper. "Yes... please..."

"Mmm, good girl." Aegon pumps his fingers in and out of you at a punishing pace. "It's better than any drunken high, any fuck... it's... ah, fuck, yes..."

Aegon's head falls to your shoulder when your hand slips inside his trousers to stroke his length. You wrap a leg around his waist, silently begging him to go deeper.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes against your skin. "Such a good little whore for me. D'you like this? Like me fucking you in public?"

You do. You really, really do.

"Say it," he demands, wrapping a hand around your throat. "Say how much you like it."

"Aegon... please... I love it."

"Say you love me."

You nod. "I love you!"

Aegon's grin is almost terrifying when he says, "I want to watch you kill Alys Rivers."

The pleasure that had been building in the pit of your stomach crests and washes over the rest of you, leaving you to spasm around Aegon's thick fingers. He kisses you all over as he reaches his own orgasm, spilling into your hand.

"Good girl," Aegon whispers into your hair. "Fuck, you're so good for me. We need to remind Aemond how good you are, yeah?"

That's all you really want, you think to yourself. You just want to be good for the people who love you. That's all you ever wanted.

[b4kuch1n]

crumbs in your bed

transcript

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Would op boys catch you if you fell? Lets find out next time on dragonball- no sorry it just reminded me of that narrator ANYWAYS.

I only did boys because i didnt have much inspi for Nami and Robin so i decided to wait until i do cos I don't wanna half arse stuff.

So anyways I feel like I saw someone do this idea already but it might've been just one character like a law x reader? I'm not sure but I would love to tag them so if you know please tell me ! I will also try to make sure mine is different :p.

Luffy

Depends. Like if he's fighting or eating then probably not but if he thinks you might get hurt then he will 100% attempt to catch you. Key word being attempt. Poor boy probably makes the fall 10x worse, like if you trip on one step you're suddenly falling down the entire flight of stairs with a weight on top of you. He will apologise though so at least there's that.

Zoro

He always catches you. Or prevents the fall in the first place. He tells himself it's so you're not unnecessarily out of commission for a fight but really he's a huge softie. Though he always catches you really ungracefully, llike there’s no princess carrying here, he's holding you upside down by the ankle with one hand fr. He scolds you every time too like- "Why do you never watch where you're going" or "Tie your shoes next time idiot", which you should hear as "I can't stand watching you get hurt". Cutie:(

Sanji

Oh you know he does. He lives for romance and what's more romantic than saving your beloved from certain doom (tripping on a rock). Oh he also does it in the most dramatic way possible, he'd rather throw himself to the ground underneath you then let you hit the floor, he's doing twirls, picking you up with one arm, occasionally will throw you in the air first so he can rearrange what he's holding. Menace tbh, like he's just obsessed with teasing you in any way possible.

Usopp

Another one who tries his best…tries🙁. He's always so dramatic about it too, he literally screams your name like you're in a horror movie and everyone is always like "WHAT'S WRONG?!" and Usopps just "Oh they tripped on a step". He either injures one of you in his attempt to catch you OR you both end up in the most compromising positions just as someone walks past . He goes so red trying to explain the situation while also trying to check if youre okay😭.

Franky

Oh every time and it’s smooth as hell every single time. Says super cheesy lines every time like “OWWWW GUESS YOU FELL FOR ME BABE”, and he gets sparkly eyed every time, he loves romance as a genre and finds it superrrrrrrr(😚) cute when something happens that matches a trope he's read. If he didn't catch you he'd probably panic and constantly apologise but just give him a kiss and he'll forget about it soon enough.

Brook

Catches you every time, really gently and really romantically. Instead of just full on catching you, he'll purposefully slow your momentum to minimise injuries in case his attempt at grabbing you fails because then you'd both fall and he'd rather not. Like if you trip into him then he'll pull you both into a delicate spin type of dancing and you're like huh??? He thinks its a really cute trait to be honest but it also makes him really worried about your safety so he likes to keep one hand on you at all times.

Jinbei

Catches you as often as he can, like he won't sprint across the ship to stop you from falling but as long as you're in his reach you will never hit the ground. And he always catches you really gently like you barely feel the impact so sometimes you won't even notice you've tripped until later when you see the scuff on your shoe or something. He really likes holding your hand to make sure you ‘keep your balance’.

Law

He doesn't want to look soft so he tries to force himself not to catch you for just harmless falls...yeah no that doesn't work. As soon as he sees you losing balance you hear that ever familiar room, shambles and then you're in his arms. If it's later in your relationship then he's a menace, he will use this to tease you, like "Oh. Looks like an angel fell into my arms" with this stupid ass smug smirk. He's just really obsessed with you.

Kidd

Catches you most of the time unless it's gonna be really funny. Also he catches you super awkwardly, like he's so obsessed with you but he never knows where to put his hands because hes not used to giving affection so it's like just in the most ungraceful ways. You are literally being held up by his arm around your thigh or something and you're like what the fuck and he's just stood there 🧍🏻‍♀️.

Killer

Prevents the tripping and catches you if necessary. But if you're too clumsy then he just starts getting huffy and hauls you up into his arms so there's no risk of you falling whatsover...and then you bang your head against the ceiling- He probably feels so bad if you get hurt because of him to be honest, he tries so hard to make you happy yk. Anyways at some point he just starts adding cushion to all the potentially harmful areas on the ship so even if you do fall it doesn't hurt.

[cherubfae]

Hello! I'm not sure if you do single characters or not but What if the reader (who's a big fan of horror) wanted to show Alastor some classic horror movies. Their reasoning? "So you can make fun of it," If you do a collection of characters, then it can be like a movie night for the hotel.

Hiya love!! Yes, I do! In fact I'm currently working on a longer Alastor fic at the moment :)) it's like this request was made for me bc I 100% will force Alastor to watch the Scream franchise with me 😭 it's my fave. I'm a mega horror fan, haha! Maybe I'll have to write for slashers again like I used to! I'll just write Al since he deserves some love for himself!! Pls excuse me bc now I'm gonna be thinking about 1920s GhostFace Alastor 😩😩🩷💕

What's Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Alastor x reader

tags: fluff, gn!reader, Alastor critiquing horror media, plot to the Scream franchise, my horror obsession might be showing lmao

Getting Alastor to have anything to do with post 1930s technology was a task and a half. He might've made a deal with Vaggie not to have anything to do with such frivolous technology, but you weren't Vaggie. You were his sweet, dear partner. And he'd never admit just how tightly wrapped he was around your finger.

He seemed to genuinely enjoy the first few Halloween movies as well as the first Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Alastor took a great of interest with Hannibal Lector from The Silence of Lambs. He was deeply considering watching the television series you told him of. He thinks Freddy Krueger is a piece of shit and wished he could do him in with his own hands.

The next movie, however, seemed more susceptible to being torn to pieces by his ever-watchful eye.

"So the point of this picture show is what... Billy is angry because his mother abandoned him and he doesn't know how to deal with those big feelings at his age?" Alastor gives an indignant snort, looking bemused at the old television screen currently playing a VHS of Wes Craven's 1996 slasher classic Scream. That's as new of tech as Alastor would allow, so you made do.

Snorting out a laugh, you lean against his arm. Alastor's crackling gaze flickers to you his smile softening around the edges. He did very much adore your laugh.

"That about sums it up, yes," you grin, biting down on the corner of your chocolate bar.

Alastor leans his back against the sofa, pulling the blanket wrapped around you two closer. "I don't know how that Macher boy thinks that peer pressure is a justifiable defense for murdering people." He unwraps his own piece of bitter chocolate and pops it into his mouth. "Own up to your choices, for Heaven's sake. And people find these two attractive? Are they not in love with one another? Surely anyone with two good working eyes could see this."

The sixth Scream movie damn near has Alastor foaming at the mouth, each and every movie felt as repetitive as the last with slight twists and changes. He was polite to keep most critiques to himself, eyeing how much you clearly enjoyed showing something so near and dear to your heart. While the plot was rather lackluster, he had to admit he was interested in the severe brutality of the sixth and despite his opposition to new media, felt that it was a decent enough film. With such a repetitive storyline, he didn't really expect that sort of twist.

"There's one more we can watch!" You grin, holding up your copy of Scary Movie. Alastor's eyes look ready to pop out of his skull as if to say 'Oh god, another??' "I don't think you'll guess who the GhostFace is!"

"Is it the man called Doofy?"

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"What the fuck-- how."

[sasaranurude]

Okay. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker today, since the release happened to catch me on a day when all I'd planned to do was write fanfiction. I just finished reading the game story prologue (it was longer than expected!), so here's a review type post. If you're reading this post not having seen a single thing about this game: it's a story-based joseimuke gacha mobile game that just released globally today. It's about a girl who suddenly finds herself attending a magic school and mingling with elite, superhuman students known as ghouls. If you look in the tumblr tag for the game you'll see what appears to be a completely different game from 2019 or so: they retooled it completely midway through development, changing just about everything about it due to "escalating competition within the gaming industry."

I'll talk about how this looks like a blatant twst clone at the end.

Starting with the positive: The story is charming. I enjoyed it thoroughly the entire time and am excited to read more. The mix between visual novel segments and motion comics was really nice--it broke things up and added a lot of oomph to the action or atmospheric scenes that visual novels generally lack. I like the art in the comic parts a lot. the live2d in the visual novel parts is... passable. Tone-wise, I think the story was a little bit all over the place and would like to see more of the horror that it opened on, but I didn't mind the comedic direction it went in either. The translation is completely seamless. The characters so far all have unique voices and are just super fun and cute. Of the ones who've had larger roles in the story so far, there's not a single one I dislike. It's all fully voiced in Japanese and the acting is solid. (I don't recognize any voices, and can't seem to find any seiyuu credits, so it seems they're not big names, but they deliver nonetheless.) Kaito in particular I found I was laughing at his lines a ton, both the voicing and the writing.

He's looking for a girlfriend btw. Spreading the word.

The problem is like. The gameplay is the worst dark-pattern microtransaction-riddled bullshit I've ever seen. Hundred passive timers going at all times. Fifty different item-currencies. Trying to get you to spend absurd amounts of real world money at every turn. There's like five different indicators that take you to various real-money shop items that I don't know how to dismiss the indicator, I guess you just have to spend money, wtaf. Bajillion different interlocking systems mean you have zero sense of relative value of all the different item-currencies. I did over the course of the day get enough diamonds for one ten-pull, which I haven't used yet. Buying enough diamonds for a ten-pull costs a bit under $60 (presumably USD, but there's a chance the interface is automatically making that CAD for me--not gonna spend the money to check lmfao), with an SSR rate of 1%. BULLSHIIIIIT.

There's like a goddamn thousand-word essay explaining the dozen different types of character upgrades and equippables and equippables for the equippables!! Bad! Bad game design! That's just overcomplicating bullshit to trick people into thinking they're doing something other than clicking button to make number go up! That is not gameplay!

In terms of the actual gameplay, there is none. The battle system is full auto. There might be teambuilding, but from what I've seen so far, most of that consists of hoping you pull good cards from gacha and then clicking button to make number go up. There's occasional rhythm segments but there's no original music, it's just remixes of public domain classical music lmao. I'd describe the rhythm gameplay as "at least more engaging than twisted wonderland's," which is not a high bar

At least there's a cat in the rhythm bit.

And like, ok, I gotta remark on how derivative it is. Like I mentioned in my post earlier, this game is unabashedly aping twisted wonderland's setting and aesthetic. (That said, most of the stuff it steals from twst is magic school stuff that twst also basically stole from Harry Potter, so...?) However, it isn't exactly like twst: in this one, the characters say fuck a lot and bleed all over the place and do violence. Basically, the tone is a fair bit more adult than twst's kid-friendly vibe. (Not, like, adult adult, and I probably wouldn't even call it dark--it's still rated Teen lol. Just more adult than twst.)

Rather than just being students at magic school, the ghouls also go out into the mundane world to go on missions where they fight and investigate monsters and cryptids. Honestly, the magic school setting feels pretty tacked-on. The things that are enjoyable about this would've been just as enjoyable in about any other setting--you can tell this whole aspect was a late trend-chasing addition, lmao. So, yeah, it's blatantly copying twst to try to steal some players, but... Eh, I found myself not caring that much. Someone more (or less) into twst than me may find it grating.

Character-wise, eh, sure, yeah, they're a bit derivative in that aspect too, but it's a joseimuke game, the characters are always derivative. Thus far the writing & execution has been solid enough that I didn't care if they were tropey. If I were to compare it to something else, I'd say the relationship between the protagonist and the ghouls feels more like that of the sage and wizards in mahoyaku than anything from twst. There's some mystery in exactly what "ghouls" are and their place in this world that has me intrigued and wanting to know more about this setting and how each of the characters feels about it. I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up for stories that put big ideas on the table and then being disappointed when they don't follow through in a way that lives up to my expectations, though.

So, my final verdict: I kind of just hope someone uploads all the story segments right onto youtube so nobody has to deal with the dogshit predatory game to get the genuinely decent story lol. Give it a play just for the story if you have faith in your ability to resist dark patterns. Avoid at all costs if you know you're vulnerable to gacha, microtransactions, or timesinks.

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 2

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains violence, blood and smut, and some dubcon. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

I watch too many horror movies, so I thought I write a part two for this small story.

I have some more ideas for this, so I might write a few other parts for this.

Have fun! :D

Part 1

........................................................

You raise the glass to your mouth with slow movements, and as you take a sip of the whiskey resting in it, you can barely register how the liquid is burning down your throat. Because it's much more interesting to study the man in front of you, laughing with peaceful glee, who, although exudes the role of the innocent host with every pore, he cannot deceive you anymore.

The more you think about it, the more certain you are that you weren't imagining it when Johnny deviated from the script a few hours ago and whispered something in your ear that he shouldn't have done according to your experiences so far. Although the events of the previous night could have served as a warning sign, you’re now sure that something has changed. Somehow, the thread of the story slowly drifted away from the usual path and began to flow in a direction where you have no idea what will welcome you at the end. But one thing is clear. That you won't let this satanic place screw with you. You will fight and outsmart it, even if you have to try a thousand times over.

"Oh, this house is so beautiful, Johnny! I envy you so much that you managed to buy it!" Pam blabbers excitedly, and the warmth of the alcohol permeates her voice, which makes all her enthusiasm fall out much more loudly from her red lips. If she knew that this man was looking for an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of kilometers from civilization, so that he could indulge in his bloody hobby in peace, she wouldn't be nearly so cheerful.

"The credit is not mine, one of my friends found it." Johnny notes modestly, and a wide smile appears on his mouth, which you know is his only sincere moment during the entire evening. Whoever this friend was, whom he had referred to so many times during dinners, he hadn't paid his respects so far. And you know that in a game like this, every word the characters utter has weight, each one could be a vague hint to another clue. But you haven't been able to figure out the identity of this unknown friend just yet, and it occurs to you that maybe this little detail is what’s missing to make the picture complete. But you don't have time for that now. You have more important things to do.

The key hidden in your pocket almost burns the skin of your thigh, and every single nerve of yours tenses in anticipation, waiting for the story to reach the point where you can finally jump into action and move forward to discover what this little trinket opens. Because you're convinced that if Johnny hadn't distracted you earlier, you wouldn't have died, and would found something vastly valuable. And now you're not going to let anything hold you back before you expose what's behind the door.

Rebecca's phone rings, and she excuses herself with her usual panicked stuttering, only to rush out the door into the embrace of the dark night. And this means good news, because it seems that despite the oddities, everything continues as it should. And for the first time, you're glad that this nerve-wracking, repetitive drama is happening once again, because it gives you a chance to regain control. At least you hope so.

And you fix your eyes on the man silently, who is deep into a lively conversation with Pam, because the alcohol is almost gone from the bottle, and it's time for him to leave. And you follow his every move with unmoving attention, in case you find something that might indicate that he will deviate from the script again. Of course, you know that when he takes on his less likable persona and tries to kill you with one of his many creative methods, he becomes frighteningly unpredictable. But until you get there, he's like a tame lamb. As far as appearances go. 

"What's the time?" Pam suddenly asks, and you snap out of your sinister thoughts to look at her in bewilderement, because this dialogue should happen much later. Normally she decides she had enough of the night's fun only when Johnny has long since retired to his room. "Jesus, it's that late? I better go get some sleep if I don't want to look like a corpse tomorrow morning!" She yawns, after checking the time on her phone's screen, and you've seen every single movement with which she stands up and stretches out her tired muscles a dozen times, but still, as she throws you a last "good night" and sets off towards the path leading upstairs, your chest fills with icy shock.

Because this way something that has never happened before takes place, and after the disappearance of your two companions, you’re left alone with the man, who waves goodbye to the girl, only to turn all his stressful attention to you a second later. And you just stare at the long-empty stairs, frozen in surprise, as if the steps could answer what the hell is going on here.

"What's wrong, Bunny?" He inquires, and you carefully shift your gaze to him, as the dread slowly crawls under your skin to envelope your conciseness. Although the game initially lulled you into a false sense of calm with how slyly it followed the main storyline again, but now everything continues to change yet again. And due to the rampage of the doubts that arise in your head, you're unable to put the broken pieces of your sanity together and figure out what should you do now that you’re stuck with the enemy who you know is just waiting to gut you like the prey you are.

"I…" You stammer nervously, and your tongue rolls in your mouth with such clumsiness, as if the leaden heaviness creeping into you from terror would paralyze it as well. And it's probably the case, because for a few torturous seconds, you only gape at him with the elegance of fish, before your body is able to recollect itself enough to form coherent sentences. "I just thought she would stay a little bit longer." You hesitate, forcing lightness into your tone, and your mind tries to gather the facade of calmness with desperate speed, because when you see that characteristic, almost pitying shadow pass over the man's face, you know you have fallen into a trap.

"The driver needs the rest too." Johnny remarks simply, and although there is still a remnant of the friendly smile at the corner of his mouth, the cold glint moving into his eyes kills all warmth from his expression. And you know that look all too well to realize you have to flee as soon as possible, because it's usually the last thing you see before he takes your life with his own hands.

Your body moves almost instinctively, and you spring up from the festive table so suddenly, that your chair cries out with a loud creak as it slides backward on the floor from your momentum. You grab the plates stacked on the middle of the table with shaking hands, and you concentrate with every fiber of your being so that your behavior does not encourage the man sitting on the other side to do anything rash. But he just cocks his head to the side lazily and watches you with interest, and even though your eyes are strictly trained on the crumpled napkins, which you hastily pile on top of the cutlery, you can feel his penetrating gaze burning the sensitive skin of your face.

"I’ll clear the table." You declare, and you don't give him time to object, because you’re already heading towards the kitchen to get away from him as fast as possible, since every cell of yours can feel that the storm is approaching, which will strike if you stay next to him. "I'll wash these up! You can go to bed!" You throw it back over your shoulder, and you're unable to expel the desperate quaver that settles in your voice, because you know that you fled from him like a chased animal, and you only dare to hope that he doesn't attach more importance to it. Because even though he seems like a very real person, he's just a fictional character and doesn't have enough self-awareness to properly evaluate your behavior. Or that's what you try to calm yourself down with.

And as you step into the embrace of the empty kitchen, with a soft sigh, you blow out the air that has been trapped in your chest, straining painfully against your ribs until now. You stumble to the counter, and it's almost a strange miracle that nothing falls out of your hands, even though you're gripping the goddamn cheap china with such force that your palms start to ache. You quietly slip the plates into the sink and anxiously peer back behind your shoulders as they land clattering on the metal. Because every little misstep can alarm the enemy, and now you need a minute of precious solitude to work out what the hell is going on.

But nothing else comes from the living room except the warm light of the crackling fire in the fireplace and the motionless silence. A few more nerve-racking moments pass, until your paranoid mind finally calms down and you believe that you don't have to be afraid of Johnny coming after you just yet. And when you’re finally able to tear your frightened eyes away from the door, you turn back to the sink, trying to muffle your panicked panting. You feel the nervous breakdown slowly creeping up on you, and wild dizziness moves into your head, as you realize that last night set in motion a series of events that will slowly tear apart the fragile certainty in which you have navigated yourself somewhat confidently until now. Because even though this place is cursed, it has consistently followed its rules so far, and you have been able to progress in it despite the many pain-filled miseries you had to suffer through. But now something went very wrong, and none of the thoughts running through your head can find an answer to what could have been the little mistake that started this avalanche.

Resting your palm on the cold stone of the counter, you try to pull your mind back from the edge of hysteria, and your fingers grip the cool marble with desperate strength, as hovering on the verge of crying, you try to fight the calmness back into your body with a few pitiful breaths. Because even though every single nerve cell of yours screams and strains against consciousness, you cannot allow yourself to panic now. This is exactly what the game wants. For you to get confused, make a mistake, and die, over and over again, until one day you dive so deep into this nightmare that you won't want to leave because you won't even remember what's waiting outside. It may be trying new ways to crush you, but you must not let it win. That would mean your fall and possible eternal torment.

You need time.

You open the faucet quickly, and as the lukewarm water caresses your fingers, you feel that confidence slowly returning to your battered brain. If you pretend to clean up after the party like a helpful guest, you hopefully drag out this ridiculous task just long enough for Johnny to get tired of waiting and leave. You need him to disappear, because as long as he's out there lurking, you have no chance to investigate further. And you must not forget that your number one priority is to find clues. And no mean tactics can dissuade you from this. Not even when despair seeps into your bones like a contagious disease. 

As you slowly get to work, you mechanically start listing the steps you need to take in your head. You have to go back upstairs and get into the room that the lock hides from you. You have to be on the lookout because you're not sure if it was Johnny and Pam's steamy moment or your own attempt to open the lock that invited the masked killer. Maybe the death flag was activated because you weren't fast enough. Every time you take too long to get to the next safe spot, you die because your clumsiness gives one of your attackers enough time to find you. As if the game would punish your failure with this. But even if you're quick, you can't be completely sure that he won't show up again, so you have to be prepared to defend yourself. If you don't manage to open the lock in two tries, you have to hide and see what happens, so that…

Out of nowhere, the distinctive, woody scent hits your nose, breaking you out of your planning in an instant, but you’re unable to react in time, because when you feel the burning heat of the body snuggling up to you, your hand holding the sponge freezes with the distress of a trapped animal. You forget to breathe from the stunned shock creeping into you, as you see huge hands spread out on the counter from the corner of your eye, blocking your way of escape, as if he knew that your first instinctive thought would be to run. But even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to act fast enough, because the moment the man's hard muscles press against your back, you know you have no chance of fleeing, and this painful realization short-circuits your brain.

"My hardworkin" wee Bunny... Ye left so soon." Johnny murmurs, and you feel his deep voice resonating through his chest, because suddenly all your nerves can only focus on the tense proximity with which he presses himself up to you. "Ye didnae just want to run away from me, did ye?"

Anyone would think that it's just kind, friendly interest, but your ears can sense the dangerous edge behind his words, with which he tries to force out the reason you left him alone in the living room so unexpectedly. The soft gurgling of the water echoes in your head like a deafening noise and drums on the metal like an ominous melody, deepening the raw fear moving inside you. What is he doing here anyway? Why didn't he go to sleep already?

"No... I just... " You stutter softly, and even to yourself the whimper that comes out of your mouth seems pathetically weak, but you’re unable to pull yourself together because the panic is awakening with too much force. "I didn't want you to be left with the cleaning after you've already thrown the dinner together." You finally bring yourself to speak, and you hastily swallow the terror rising in your throat, which leads the bitter taste of stomach acid in your mouth.

And you don't like the low, malicious chuckle that sounds next to your ear, because every single hair on your back stands up as you feel the air fanning over your neck in small waves from his amusement. You don’t dare to move, because the danger is too close, and you're afraid that every reckless act will lead to your death in the next moment. And even though you know that you'll get back into the car and start all over again, you can't get rid of the doubt in the back of your head that tells you, from now on you can't be sure about that either…

"It's okay, this will do too." He hums casually, as if giving himself permission to engage in what was born in his twisted mind. And you frown in confusion, because you’re unable to understand what is that he wants to achieve with this. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already, and although he's no stranger to playing with you before the main event, he has never resorted to such tricks before. This is different now, this is some threatening new twist that you’re not prepared for.

"What do you mean?" The instinctive question bursts out of you, because the uneasiness arising in your mind creeps onto your tongue much sooner than you could suppress your curiosity. And for a moment it seems as if he might hesitate, because for a few agonizing seconds, nothing happens. But before you can feel the relief that maybe he’ill stop playing this horrible game, you feel the light touch of his nose caressing the sensitive skin behind your ear, and it makes your heart jump in fear.

"I love yer scent." He breathes, and the moan that escapes from his mouth sounds almost longing, when he buries his face in your neck and takes a deep inhale of your hair. And you can only hope that you imagine the shiver that runs through his body. "So sweet. Full of fear." He grumbles, and goosebumps rise reflexively on your back, as you feel the burning touch of his lips on your skin, which makes you light-headed for a moment, and the world starts spinning with you from confused panic.

"Johnny, what the…" You gasp and try to make eye contact through the glass of the window in front of you, but you regret it soon enough. Because when the gaze of his reflection flashes on you, you see nothing but darkness in them, as if the deepest recesses of hell have moved in those beautiful, vivid eyes. In the yellowish light filtering in from behind, he looks like an inhumane shadow as his strong figure towers over you, and you feel pitifully small in the embrace of his body swelling with strength. He would be able to break all your bones with one light movement, like a twig dried in the summer sun. You know, because he already did. Not just once.

And this is enough for the first wild desire to escape to wake up in your body, and when you try to break away from his suffocating proximity with a frightened step, he only presses himself even closer to you, and you involuntarily hiss as the sharp edge of the kitchen counter bites into your stomach. And the horrified realization strikes you, that the hardness that slowly pushes against your lower back is not the product of your imagination.

"Shh, calm down." He coos, with an almost condescending edge in his voice, as if he would want to soothe a terrified child, but you can see the twist of a cruel smile at the corner of his mouth, which makes him look more like a predator that has found its prey. "We're just playin' a little. Ye need to relax too." He states, and you don't like the way a wolfish grin creeps onto his face, enjoying the way your eyes slowly open wide with terror.

Before would be able to register it, one of his hands begins its lazy exploration, and as his long fingers travel along the bare skin of your arm, you shiver from the feigned tenderness with which he touches you. Like a gentle lover trying to ingrain the fine lines of your body onto his memory, but you know him better than that. You know what kind of bloodlust lurks behind that handsome face, you know what kind of beast nests in his chest, which can burst out at any moment and tear your throat open to paint his teeth crimson with your flesh.

"Stop it..." You finally find your voice, and although the wavers from the fear that crawls into your stomach, it rings just loud enough to draw his attention to the fact that you might have started to defy him. But even this little courage fades away when you feel his large palm slide onto your stomach, and as his fingers teasingly caress the top of your pants, the plate you've been clutching falls out of your hand with a reflexive movement, so you can grab his thick wrist in alarm before he could move forward with whatever he wanted to do. The porcelain breaks into a thousand pieces with a deafening clatter, splitting the deceptive silence of the night in two. And for a moment, time freezes, the rustle of the wind blowing outside falls silent, and the shining of golden light reflected in the window fades. As though the continuity of the game would break for a minute. As if you've disrupted something important with your rejection.

"Stop what?" He tilts his head to the side, and although you see a completely innocent expression appear in the dim reflection for a moment, you can make out the disgusting vileness that shines in his eyes. "I'm not doin' anythin' you wouldn't need, bonnie." He says, as if he honestly wouldn't understand what he did wrong by appearing in this godforsaken kitchen.

You're about to open your mouth to protest further, but his free hand finds your neck with such suddenness that all the fleeting sounds of your defiance boil onto your throat at the warning squeeze of his fingers. And even though he doesn't cause pain, it's just enough of a threat to drive the spark of resistance out of your limbs by forcing them into automatic obedience. Because a whole new kind of worry takes over you when he closes every millimeter of the already miniscule distance between the two of you, as though he would try to merge into one with your paralyzed body, and because of the helpless shock, you allow him to continue with this sick game as he pleases.

His hand, which wanders over your stomach, crawls under your jeans with nerve-wracking sluggishness, and you cringe at the roughness of his palm, which only elicits a lustful growl from him. He smooths his mouth on your neck with a wet kiss, and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding in the window, as if you were just watching a movie, and you wouldn't even experience first-hand how his tongue slowly traces the faint line of the vein running under your skin, in which your desperately racing pulse continues to pump fear into your body. But as you feel his hand suddenly move lower, and his fingers skim along your clit hidden in your underwear, then you tense up with an instinctive shock and try to pull away from him a second later.

He must really enjoy your thrashing, because he thrusts his hips forward with a grunt full of pleasure, and as his cock presses against you, the throaty moans escaping from his mouth burn your skin along with his hot breath. And as his fingers start to write small circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, and he begins to grind himself against you through your clothes with feverish movements, like a fucking, horny dog, then the anger flares up inside you along with the heat that awakens between your thighs. Because this dirty, perverted scumbag isn't going to distract you from getting out of here with this damn stunt. No matter how troubling it is when the first suffocating wave of lust rushes through your treacherous body.

"Stop, you motherfucker!" An angry cry breaks out of you, and your hand finds a piece of the broken plate in the sink, and you grab it with such speed to stab it into the man's arm emerging from your pants like a venomous snake. He lets go with a painful roar, and this gives you just enough opportunity to break free from his arms and back away from him with hasty steps, fixing your eyes sparkling with poison on him.

However, his surprise doesn't last long, because he pulls out the piece of porcelain pierced in his hand amid colorful curses, only to throw it on the floor, shaking off the angry red drops of blood slowly emerging from the tiny cut. The whole ordeal doesn't seem to be more than a passing inconvenience to him, because the next moment he has that godawful smirk on his face again, which makes your stomach shrink to the size of a tennis ball. But you don't give up, you look for the knife, which is lying on the counter in the exact same way as usual, and grabbing it, you raise it in front of you angrily. This is the first time that you try to fight instead of running away, and the adrenaline rushes through your body with a force that you have never experienced before in your life.

"Look at ye, how brave ye have become!" He exclaims amusedly, and as he takes a few slow, menacing steps towards you, like a big cat ready to attack, you hastily move to the other side of the table in the middle of the kitchen, hoping that this is enough of a barrier between the two of you. "You've let me play with ye so willingly so far... But it's okay. I like how fiery ye are!" He continues his rambling, and you can feel the patronizing edge in his voice, as if it would amuse him and fill him with pity at the same time that you think you finally have a chance to hurt him. And your brain is too busy with your escape, slowly dragging you out of the kitchen, to understand what an impossible statement is hidden in his words. Because then you would have to face the fact that he's not as unaware as you thought.

"Shut up." You snap at him with clenched teeth, and you focus on him with every nerve because you're afraid that if you lose sight of him even for a minute, he'll throw himself at you and you'll lose all your chances of survival. Even though the logical side of you knows that it would be easier to let him kill you and start this horror again. But the pulsation of fury is too strong in you to yield to the deceptive lure of the simpler path.

"I wanted to taste yer pussy. But I think I'll have to settle for yer blood for now." He taunts cruelly, and now you know that this whole wicked game was just another tool to torture you. Because he always wants the same thing, no matter what cunning methods he uses. He wants to enjoy the sight of your lifeless body. "Maybe next time." He promises, and he charges towards you so suddenly that you just blindly swing your hand clutching the knife at him, and even you yourself are surprised when you succeed in slicing the strong line of his chin in the heat of the moment.

He hisses as fresh blood gushes out in the wake of your attack, and you gain just enough advantage to start running like a frightened doe, bolting desperately from the kitchen's threshold. You run across the living room, out of breath, and from the stress hormones raging in your body, you almost tear the front door open to stumble into the cool night. In your panic-stricken brain, it occurs to you that this will be a bad idea, but you have no other option, you have to trust that the darkness of the forest will hide you from the madman, whose pounding footsteps can be heard behind you, as you rush forward in the thicket and get swallowed up by the tangled cavalcade of trees.

Your pulse thumping on your eardrums joins in as the background noise for your sprint, and your lungs start to burn slowly, as the cold air gnaws at your trachea in the middle of your rush. The leaves crunch under your sneakers, and you don't even realize how the branches dig into your face and tear at your hair, because you have only one goal in front of your eyes: To get as far away from Johnny as possible.

But your escape attempt is short lived, because two hands reach out from behind one of the trees so swiftly that you don't have time to dodge it. They loop around your waist with a vise-like grip, and your mouth opens to a frightened scream, but when you try to free yourself from the shackles of your attacker, you almost feel your ribs crack, as the strong arms wrap around you tighter, pressing you to a massive body with deadly determination.

You glance back in terror, and when you see the skull-like mask, it's too late. One of his hands lets go of you, and even if you had a momentary chance to get away, it immediately disappears when the hunting knife sinks into your stomach. You let out a startled whimper as the agonizing pressure builds when he slowly twists the blade inside you, and you feel the warm, red liquid bubbling out of the torn flesh.

You fall to the ground like a rag doll as your attacker releases you from his grip, and you sprawle out in the mud coughing up blood as the pain shoots through your every nerve. And through the blur of the ever-increasing blood loss, you only dimly perceive how a familiar figure appears next to the masked man, but even hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, you recognize Johnny's cheerful laugh, with which he pats the other killer on the shoulder.

"I almost got her!"  Johnny laments, and with your weak and foggy brain, you can't comprehend the inscrutable emotion in his voice. "Never mind. Next time, it'll be different!"

And when the darkness envelopes you in its weightless embrace, you have the last fleeting thought that this game is taking more and more fatal turns.

~ ° ~

Gasping in alarm, your eyes open in the back seat of the car, and you smooth away the cold sweat from your forehead with shaking hands, as you realize that you're back at the beginning of the game once again. Surrounded by the chatter of your two companions, you try to overcome your disorientation, because dizziness invades your head in a way you've never experienced before, as if you've brought a little of the horror of your previous death with you when you restarted this misery.

And when the dull pain in your stomach hits you, you pull up the thin material of your T-shirt in fear, and your brain goes blank for a fleeting moment when you see what is waiting for you there. A palm-sized black spot spreads across the soft blanket of healthy skin, and you're pretty sure it's not just your imagination playing tricks on you when you recognize a skull slowly taking shape in it. Like a carving of a cruel reminder, so you don’t forget who ended your life this time.

It doesn't make any sense... you've died twenty-four times, yet this is the first time something strange appears on you, as though the game would try to convey something. As if your killer had marked you with his signature... But why?

But you don't have time to ponder on this any longer, because the car stops, and you pull your shirt down in panic to cover the new sign, before it catches the eyes of the two girls and they start asking questions. You could explain yourself, but at this point, you're not entirely sure if it wouldn't start something with another set of fatal consequences.

The girls hop out of the car in the middle of their excited conversation, but you stay put, trying to overcome hyperventilation and regain some semblance of your composure. You need to be more careful, you made no progress yesterday, and if this continues, you will never get out of here. And you can't allow that. Never.

However, when the door opens and Johnny's cheerful figure appears on the doorstep, you know that nothing is going to be all right. Because behind him, a tall figure, whom you have never seen before, slowly emerges from the house. The light of the autumn sun shines golden on his dark blond hair, and although his face is half covered by a black medical mask, you still recognize the threat in the unfamiliar man. Because as those dark eyes settle on you, as you hesitantly step out of the car, every single fiber in your body screams at the same time: RUN!

But you know you can't run away. You're forced to go further in this hellscape because that is the only way to get out. And whoever this new stranger is, he won't stop you. No matter what happens.

[drowninginredink]

Favorite Albums: choose 9 and then tag 9 people!

For my own sanity, I didn't include musicals because I could fill up a whole other 3x3 grid with them, and comparing musicals to non-musical theater albums is weird.

Those last 4 that you definitely don't recognize are by Old Earth who you should definitely listen to if you want artsy ambient indie folk with really intricate guitar. My absolute favorite artist by far, and also the most obscure artist I listen to by far.

Electric by The Pet Shop Boys — I think this is my favorite album period. I am still pissed off that Tom Scott called it "not that great" in the old Technical Difficulties podcast. Maybe I'm biased because it was my favorite album when I was 14 and because it's where I really fell in love with the Pet Shop Boys. God I love them. So much. I'm way too excited for the new album and I worship geowayne's website where he analyzes all their songs. I probably should have put another PSB album on here, but there isn't another where I'm in love with every track. Plus honestly so many of my favorite tracks of theirs are B sides. They still release B sides with their singles, and this album cycle, the B sides are honestly better than the actual singles. Anyway electric is pure synthy electropop and I adore it in that way you can only love something you first heard at 14.

Pure Heroine by Lorde — I read a quote somewhere where Lorde said she tried to really put all of being a teenager into the album, so much so that once she became an adult, she probably wouldn't understand or like it anymore. I can definitely say that I'm not nearly as attached to it anymore now that I'm an adult, but God, it was my life when I was 13. She really did capture the unique ennui of being a teenager. I wrote a novel in eighth grade, and I wrote at least half of it to tracks from this album. Also, hot take: Royals is my least favorite track by a lot. Buzzcut Season is my favorite.

My Head is an Animal by Of Monsters and Men — God, this one was my life when I was like, 12. I fell in love with folk there, and I'm still in love nearly a decade later. Another album where I still love every track.

Strange Trails by Lord Huron — hey look, an album I actually discovered and came to love as an adult! The fact that I love Lord Huron's brand of folky horror/fantasy/western music that tell stories with characters should not surprise anyone. Also, if I had to describe my experience with schizophrenia in one song, I'd choose Meet Me in the Woods.

The Tragic Treasury by The Gothic Archies — Look. Hear me out. Is it a album based purely on A Series of Unfortunate Events? Yes. But. Is it also an album where I genuinely love every track and have genuinely been known to just throw it on shuffle? Yes. I mean I think of one lyric from this album, like, weekly. I swear it's not just ASOUE brainrot that makes me like it so much. If it'd ever gotten a vinyl release, I'd absolutely own it. I wish it had gotten one.

a low place at The Old Place by Old Earth — honestly this is probably only my favorite Old Earth album because it's the one that I was able to actually get on vinyl and being able to play that vinyl is so lovely. I mean, it's good, but so is everything by Old Earth. Then again, Less Words is my favorite single track by them and it is on this album. Look. All the Old Earth albums I've listed here are, at most, 20 minutes long. If you like ambient artsy indie folk with lyrics that are there more for the way they sound than their meaning, try one.

light shaped by Old Earth — god the lyrics to this one. Normally I don't like Old Earth for the lyrics but. "It gets old/then it's done" and "what if it's just some song that gets you home" and especially "I'm holding your arms/and you're holding my eyes/and I lie like the right thing to do" are all just so great. And so is the middle track with no lyrics.

... until they're called by Old Earth — have you ever heard an album so good that you a) just played the whole thing and danced to it in your basement nonstop for the full 12 minutes, and then b) wrote a poem about the experience? People talk about finding God, but dancing to that album was the moment I found athiesm. The beauty of us all being here for no reason, just feeling things and living and doing our best to make something beautiful out of it.

Two Torches, at a Place Where Three Roads Meet by Old Earth — I'll be honest, I don't have much to say about this one. They're just a really solid three tracks.

... Yeah okay I really like Old Earth. Don't judge me.

Thank you @cygninae and @thehistoryone for tagging me! I'll tag @ven10 (I'm surprised neither of the people who tagged me tagged you), @weirdthoughtsandideas (ditto), @70snasagay (hmmmm i wonder what you'll put), @cat-boy-tom, @thetreetzar, @buncoreclown, @notthatalex, @unfortunate-sapphic-disaster, and @roach-in-the-kitchen. No pressure, obviously!

[maochira]

hey!! i was wondering if you can do some headcanons for a reader who has a massive plushie collection with barou, rin, aryu, hiori, and niko(underrated king i need more content about him). they wouldn’t even guess that reader would be the type of person to collect that sort of stuff until they see that literally every corner of their room is filled with plushies (literally my dream). they can also tell that it must’ve cost a lotttt of money to gather that much. maybe they even recognize some of their favorite characters in the collection

can be platonic or romantic connections with the characters. i don’t mind either way! feel free to remove any character if it’s too much. thank youuuu <33

Adding two more characters cause <3 I love plushies so much (I also collect them)

Characters: Barou, Rin, Aryu, Hiori, Niko, Raichi, Tokimitsu

Requests open! - masterlist

Tags: gn!reader, can be seen as platonic or romantic

The first time Barou walks into your room, he's shocked at the sight of your plushies. Not because he thinks you're weird for collecting them (okay, maybe a little) but because he hates how unorganized they are. Why are some of them all over the floor? Why do they take up an unnecessarily big amount of space on your bed? Before he even says anything, Barou starts tidying up your plushy collection. He's sorting them by franchises and colours and also putting them in places where they look the best. Barou wants you to keep them this neatly because he thinks if they mean so much to you, you should treat your plushies with care like this.

Rin doesn't understand why you have so many plushies. And even less does he understand why you would spend so much money on them. He tries to not say anything judgy, but the look on his face while he observes your room says everything. And the longer Rin stays in your room, the more uncomfortable he gets. He feels watched by the many eyes of your plushies which creeps him out a little. This guy loves horror movies but gets creeped out by cute plushies? Apparently, yes. But you get to have fun teasing him about that. Although, over time he slowly gets used to your plushies. And after a few more weeks, he actually starts liking them.

Aryu absolutely adores every single one of your plushies ever since the first moment he got to see them. He buys a lot of clothes which are actually meant for baby dolls, but dresses your plushies in them instead. Each time he visits you, he's having the time of his life dressing up all the plushies together with you and taking photos of them. For some plushies, he doesn't find any fitting clothing, so Aryu starts sewing some on his own. They may be plushies, but he knows you love them, so they deserve to be stylish. They absolutely need to be stylish.

Seeing your plushies for the first time caught Hiori completely off guard. He didn't expect your room to look like that at all, but he quickly starts loving them. He's not vocal about it, but it's obvious how much he adores every single one of your plushies. His attention constantly drifts off and instead of looking at you, his gaze wanders to the shelf full of plushies right behind you. He hasn't thought about plushies in a very long time, but now he kind of wants to have one for himself. Luckily, before he leaves your place, you put a cute little blue bunny plush into his hands.

Niko doesn't seem to mind your plushies at first. He doesn't think anything of them and mostly ignores the fact that they are even there. But then he spots some plushies of anime characters on your desk. He knows most of the characters, but not all of them. So he obviously gets curious and starts asking questions about which animes they're from. Niko already owns a bunch of anime merch, but for some reason, he hasn't thought about buying plushies of his favourite characters until now when he got the idea because of you. He's already thinking about which ones he wants to get, but he'll probably need your help to decide. Of course your answer will be to buy all of them.

Raichi's first reaction to your plushies should have been predictable. But you're still startled for a moment when he walks over to one of the big plushies and punches it without hesitation. After asking why he did that, Raichi only laughs and says he thinks it's funny. Then he continues doing the same to other plushies, thinking you find it funny as well. Only when he looks back at you he realizes you don't think it's funny at all and you're getting upset instead. Raichi feels embarrassed and quickly apologizes, but he doesn't feel like that's enough, so he goes on and apologizes to every plushie he punched as well.

Tokimitsu treats your plushies extremely gently with a lot of care, almost as if they were real living beings. Every time he touches them he does it very carefully and whenever he pushes one to the side only by a little bit, he apologizes to the plushie. Tokimitsu knows how much every single plushie means to you. That's why he wants to treat them with as much care as he can, because that's how he knows you treat him. And of course, he treats you like that as well. It's always cute to watch whenever he interacts with your plushies and how he talks to them with genuine care.

Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @luvcalico @remy-roll @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @weichspuelertrinker @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @nikokii @slowlyholypeanut @astruosie @gojosorrygeto @rienniey @kalinkavx @blueberrryui @keiidaydreams @sagejin @ririgards @depressed-bitchy-demon @kaiserkisser @chaosinanutshell @mang05 @wheresmysoulidk @rzu @orah-s @thedaisy78

[scaralvr]

young girl a scaramouche x gn!vocaloid!reader (modern au, project sekai/colorful stage au, family issues mainly focused on grades, insecurities, fluff, character death, angst) tag(s): @etherisy

important: i showed myself through this (y/n) and i got carried away. feel free to stop reading if it gets too much. and please don't vent, it makes me overwhelmed.

twelve-year-old scaramouche hates his mother and he's sure of it. in his eyes, she's always nagging at him to study and stay at the top of the leaderboard at all times like her son should be. but that one day in middle school was the day his hope of earning her praises had been distinguished.

it was also the day that you, his rival and ex best friend, conquered him in the exam.

this can't be right, scaramouche could only think as he stared at the list of students' names on the wall in horror. he'd been beaten by a single question.

you were standing next to him, though a bit further to remain distance. you looked at your name with a blank expression. scaramouche clenched his fist and he gritted his teeth in raw anger. in an instant, he turned to face you and grabbed you by the collar, shaking you like a ragdoll with every word he shouted.

students began to gasp and murmur as their interest piqued. some even laughed. "don't you understand how this will impact me!?" scaramouche yelled at you but you didn't utter a single word nor did you show any change in your complexion.

"i hate you! i hate you!" he repeated. one would even say that tears were peeking at the corners of his eyes as his glare was filled with pure loathe and hate. slowly raising his arm, he slapped you across the face, capturing everyone's attention.

you fell to the floor and the moment you looked up, he was already running the other way, his trail of unshed tears following him.

"you slapped them, kunikuzushi!?" ei yelled at her son, her voice becoming strained from the pressure on her throat. scaramouche didn't respond and his eyes were trained on his hands tightly clutching at the hem of his shirt as he sat on the couch in shame.

although his back was beginning to hurt from the slouching position, she continued. "i didn't raise you to be like this; why did you do it!? and even worse, you let them beat you in the monthly exam by dismissing the bonus question! this is unbelievable!" ei added fuel to the fire, his tears uncontrollably cascading down his cheeks.

"i don't know why i did it." scaramouche mumbled through quiet snivels. ei menacingly narrowed her eyes and crumpled up the paper with his score of one hundred. "that is no excuse, kunikuzushi," she said, voice lowering to a normal tone. "i'm disappointed upon the failure of a son i've raised."

the cherry on top was ei throwing the ball of paper to the side and slamming the front door to leave for some fresh air. scaramouche could hardly contain his emotions any longer, for he buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with his loud sobs.

the next day, ei forced him to come along with her to say a formal apology to your parents. "you've messed up enough already, don't continue." she firmly said with her eyes looking elsewhere. scaramouche grinded his jaw.

i know you don't want to look at me. he silently thought to himself and his heart twinged with a pain of knowing his mother hated her only son. and that only son just had to be a disappointment.

ei rang the doorbell and as soon as she pressed it with her fingertip, scaramouche's eyes darted to her nails. well manicured and polished with a thin layer of violet. he fought back a scoff from slipping up. of course she'd want to look formal in front of your parents.

your mother answered the door just a few moments later. "hello... do you have any business here?" she queried with a small voice. scaramouche nearly cringed at her appearance. her eyes were red and puffy, most likely from crying, with gray bags beneath it, from staying up, he would guess.

ei blinked a few times before sighing with a smile. "i'm ei, kunikuzushi's mother. i'm sure you're aware that he... slapped your child yesterday. i-he made it his responsiblity to come apologize in person." she said, kindly offering her hand.

a puzzled expression appeared upon your mother's face. "you mean (y/n)? oh, they..." your mother's bottom lip quivered. "we haven't seen them since dinner last night. the police say that children at this age run away from home for short periods of time but my (y/n) isn't like that." she solemnly said and tears started to fill her eyes.

ei was taken aback, equally so as scaramouche. "th-they did?" she asked, eyes widened in shock. your mother stammered, "i-if they did run away, it's likely because of what i said about them constantly being in second place. i was overjoyed to hear that they finally got first but they suddenly vanish the next morning. i just don't understand..."

ei's grip slightly tightened on scaramouche's shoulder. scaramouche gulped. was he going to get a scolding? was he going to be blamed for your disappearance? pushing those thoughts aside for now, ei frowned. "i'm so sorry to hear that, mrs. (l/n). i hope they return to you soon."

the drive home had an unsettling silence, sometimes replaced with ei's index fingernail slowly tapping against the wheel. scaramouche was sitting in the passenger's seat as he looked out the window, waiting for his mother to speak up. but she never did... until they reached home.

when she pulled into the driveway, scaramouche's immediate instinct was to pull the handle and leave the car, however, ei hadn't unlocked it. he slowly looked over to her and settled back into his seat.

she turned off the engine and exhaled. "you do understand why i tell you to study, hm?" ei asked. scaramouche warily nodded. "because you want me to have a good future." he muttered. ei pursed her lips that were a tainted pink from her previous lipstick.

"after witnessing that poor woman lose her child because of the stress from studying, it suddenly seems like my 'problems' aren't compared to the pain she feels." ei explained. "they'll never compare to the heartbreak she's experiencing." she added with a soft voice.

scaramouche was taken by surprise when ei cupped his face and finally looked into his eyes. tears instantly dripped down his cheeks, "mom..." ei meekly smiled, "will you forgive me, kuniku-" she yelped when he hugged her, crying loudly into her torso.

ei placed a hand on his head, "there, there. i'm sorry, dear." she tutted, all the while stroking his hair. scaramouche hiccuped, "i miss hugging you like this." she laughed, but the tears that fell down her face were a strange mix to her feelings.

"i haven't hugged you in a long time, have i?" ei questioned as she pulled away to wipe his tears. scaramouche rubbed at his eye and he shook his head. ei sadly smiled, "my poor son..." she suggested, "would you like to sleep in my room tonight?"

scaramouche nodded and she planted a kiss on his forehead, "alright. let's go inside now, we'll have your favourite for dinner." that night, in his mother's arms, scaramouche did a lot of thinking.

his mother loves him again... because he slapped you. no, but because you ran away. why did you do what you did? scaramouche wanted to thank you, maybe even become your friend again yet he deemed that as something foolish, becoming your friend once more because he benefited from your disappearance.

even though... it was the least he could do. consider it an indirect way of thanking you for giving him back his mother figure. so he waited. he waited days for your return. days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months.

suddenly, he finds himself in a high school classroom, still awaiting your arrival. your disappearance made its showcase on the news a few weeks after you first went missing and it's your anniversary today. today is the day you vanished when the both of you were twelve.

"yoho!~ scara, do you think you'll be able to come with us to the cafe this time?" his friend, childe, asked with a huge grin. columbina collected her items as she gave the ginger a deadpan expression, "are you serious, childe? he's probably going to go shopping with his mom again."

childe mocked a high-pitch voice that was supposed to be a female's. "ooh, shopping with the girls! can i come, bae?" he made kissy noises and scaramouche smacked him in the back of the head, "you wish." sandrone raised a brow, "so are you coming with us?"

scaramouche shrugged, "i don't see why not. plus, i have no plans today." rosalyne clasped her hands, "perfect! there's some desserts there i'd like to critique." pantalone grumbled and rolled his eyes, "again?" rosalyne snapped, "if you hate it so much, don't come!"

arlecchino pointed out, "he's obviously there for the free food. it's all on your budget, anyways." rosalyne huffed, "right, so stop complaining about it." the bell rang, gaining their attention.

scaramouche slung his bag over his shoulder and childe cheered, "yay, let's go!" arlecchino yelled, "someone put the child on a leash!" pantalone grabbed childe by the ear, "i got him." the six made their way out the classroom and began their venture to the cafe across the street.

sandrone happily chirped, "i heard there's some matcha cakes there now." scaramouche mocked a gagging noise of disgust, "i hate matcha." sandrone furrowed her brows, "oh, shut it, scara! you always eat desserts, i'm honestly surprised you say you hate it without even trying it yet."

pantalone hummed, "what she said. scara's a picky eater anyways, there's no helping it." he teased and scaramouche grumbled, "be quiet!" his phone started vibrating in his pocket and he fished it out.

they all peered at the user displayed on the screen. "your mom, huh? is she going to ask you to get home and help her cook again?" arlecchino joked and scaramouche answered the phone, murmuring a quiet, "not this time, hopefully."

he waved his hand and gestured for them to go ahead. childe put a thumbs up with a happy-go-lucky expression and columbina hissed, "c'mon, you big himbo, we'll wait for him in the cafe."

scaramouche rounded a corner and entered an empty alleyway. "hey, mom." he said with a pleasant smile gracing his features. "what time will you be getting home? i'm cooking dinner right now." ei replied on the other side of the line, holding her phone in between her jawline and shoulder while stirring the food.

"maybe a little after five. me and the rest are going to check out the new desserts the cafe down the street has." scaramouche began to walk deeper into the alley. ei nodded, "alright, stay safe, okay? i'll be waiting for you. oh, shit, it's overboiling-" she muttered, leaning over to look into the pot.

scaramouche sputtered out a chuckle, "you should get to that." ei nodded, "yup. i'll call again later, okay? have fun." and with that, she quickly hung up. scaramouche pulled the phone away from his ear only to find an untitled song file on the screen.

he raised a brow, "what?..." and because his curiosity got the best of him, he played it, but only heard silence. scaramouche tsked as he examined the player, "does this damn thing even work?" suddenly, a white flash engulfed his gaze and he ended up in what seemed like a whole new world.

scaramouche blinked a few times as he regained his vision. he was in the hallway of the middle school he attended with you; the same hallway with the list of students' scores on the wall. he sneered, "is this some type of sick joke?" he ripped the paper down and inspected it.

seeing your name made his stomach twist, the memories flooding back to him. scaramouche crumpled it up and looked left and right. "why the hell am i here of all places?" he sweatdropped.

"it's nice to see you again, scaramouche."

that voice, it couldn't be.

there was a halt to his movements and he slowly turned. you're... "alive!" scaramouche instantly yelled, taking you by surprise as you backed away. he shook his head, "sorry about that but, um, you're alive!" he repeated.

scaramouche marveled at you. you seemed different, but he couldn't tell in what way. sure, the both of you have grown so you looked more mature now with minor changes in your facial features yet there was something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

you laughed, "of course i'm alive. hm, why wouldn't i be?" you asked as if it were the most sensible question in the world as you tilted your head. scaramouche stammered, "w-wait, are you even alright? you went missing, like, six years ago! and why are we here, what?" he turned around once, twice, to completely take in his surroundings.

you gasped, "ahh, we're in your sekai. it's lovely, isn't it? i'm glad the other vocaloids assigned me to show you around." scaramouche's eye twitched, "wh-what?" he widened his eyes, pupils dilating.

he sees it now. the way you slightly fade with some sort of code, your voice that's still the same but sounds like it's synthesized... scaramouche lifted a finger, "you're... what are you!? you can't be (y/n)! can you actually start explaining now!?" he demanded, gritting his teeth.

you frowned, "and i thought i'd have a warmer welcome, from you, of all people. well, i am that (y/n), believe it or not. i simply locked myself away in my sekai to hide from the reality that awaits me outside, specifically, my parents."

scaramouche could hardly comprehend anything you were saying. "okay, hold on. take it from the start. what is a sekai?" he asked with a tone that meant he was clearly irritated by the lack of answers. you added, "a sekai is a world people create from their feelings. these people are people having trouble with understanding themselves. for example, me and you."

you extended your hand to him, "this is your sekai, scaramouche." hesitant, he gulped and held onto your hand. you led him down the hall with a calm expression and continued to explain. "you built this world because you feel that way, no? otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

scaramouche interrupted you, "now, wait just a second. who the fuck said i was having trouble understanding myself? i'm completely fine." he rolled his eyes and you sighed. "see, that, is why you're here. you don't even realize it yet, so i'm here to help you."

he huffed, "why don't you just leave your sekai?... your parents miss-" scaramouche quickly shut up when you gave him a menacing glare. "don't talk about them." you returned to your sweet demeanor just as quick. "i'd appreciate it very much. i've spent many years re-building my walls and i won't allow them to tear it down again."

you hummed a strange tune while leading him down the stairs, "right now, we're going to my sekai, so i can show you how things work before you hang around your own." scaramouche stuttered, "b-but, won't you come back?"

you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him. "no, i won't," you plainly commented, holding up a finger with the hand that wasn't holding his. "the vocaloids, despite them being synthesizers with human-like forms, are what i deem my family and friends now."

"they make me feel like i belong." you said, looking at him with a soft gaze. scaramouche pursed his lips. "why didn't you just stay for a little longer? weren't you happy to have finally beaten me, to make your parents proud?" he asked, clutching at his chest.

you narrowed your eyes, "i wasn't. if anything, i was sad. sad because they'd only love me if i abided by their strict guidelines, sad because they'd only accept me if i studied, sad because..." your form glitched. "i knew some robots would be the only ones there for me."

you let go of his hand and your eyes filled with tears. "what do you know, scaramouche? i recieved my sekai when i was only twelve and i kept it a secret because i used it to escape that wretched household."

"don't ever tell me i should've stayed a little while longer, you know why? because if i did, nothing would've change. i'd continue getting good grades for my parents' acceptance and not for my own happiness. does that seem right to you? and if anything, i most probably would have fallen back to second place and they'd continue nagging at me, telling me i've failed them." you sniveled, your tears sliding down your face.

scaramouche frowned, "you're wrong, (y/n). because i do know. i know how it feels like to be abandoned because of my grades, i know how it feels like to have that gut-churning feeling when i bring my report card home, i know, (y/n). trust me, i know." he said, now holding your face in his lithe hands so he made sure you looked at him.

scaramouche slyly smiled. "i'll tell you what. if i come here everyday to try and understand myself, will you come back?" your lips thinned out into a line, "sounds easy enough. but i'm only giving you one month. if you haven't understood yourself by then, it's farewell to the chances of me returning, okay?"

scaramouche smirked, "alright. well, i'm positive i'll win this little challenge of ours, (n/n)." you scoffed, "(n/n)? you haven't called me that since we were in elementary." he shrugged, "people change."

you smiled, "we can visit my sekai tomorrow. you should be getting back now, no?" scaramouche let go of you and innocently grinned. "that's right. but how exactly do i do that?"

you giggled, "i'll see you soon." a white flash covered his vision again, capturing you along with it as you vanished. scaramouche blinked and he was back in the alleyway. he patted his hands from his head down to his torso, making sure his whole body was intact.

he pinched his temples, "holy shit, that felt like some weird fever dream. wait, how do i know it wasn't?" scaramouche questioned but his thoughts were disrupted by pantalone's yelling. "get your ass over here, scaramouche! we've been waiting for five minutes now!"

scaramouche furrowed his brows together, "five minutes, only?" he wondered aloud. he opened his phone to find out when he ended the call with ei. just now? scaramouche squinted in curiosity but followed pantalone back to the cafe.

"i'm home." scaramouche announced as he kicked his shoes off. he entered the kitchen where he found ei baking dessert. ei turned with a bowl of batter in her arms, "welcome back, kuni. how was school? did you finish your lunch? oh, how's that cafe you went to?" she bombarded him with all sorts of questions.

scaramouche smiled as she pecked him on the forehead. "school was mundane. i ate most of my lunch and it was very nice. you should cook my food more often." a lie. he fed those dreadful, burnt dumplings to childe and sandrone. "the cafe was alright, i guess. the desserts itself are good." he finished, putting his bag aside.

ei nodded with a big smile, "i'd be delighted to cook more for you, kunikuzushi! and i was wondering if you wanted to go with me to get groceries tomorrow after my work, it is a saturday." she said, pouring the batter into a pan. scaramouche only hummed for confirmation.

tomorrow's going to be a saturday, he thought to himself as he prepared the cutlery and bowls on the table. when mom leaves maybe i can... scaramouche's gaze flitted to her.

"thank you for the food."

he picked up the chopsticks and the bowl, putting it closer to his face so he wouldn't get the noodles and broth everywhere. as he ate, he noticed something a little off about ei this particular evening. "is something on your mind?" scaramouche piped up, hoping for an answer.

ei clasped her hands together with a sad smile. "as you know, it's (y/n)'s anniversary today, that poor child. the funeral they held last year had been the worst for their parents, the casket remaining empty." she muttered, gaze moving downwards. scaramouche looked elsewhere.

"the authorities came to a conclusion some days ago that (y/n) really did run away, considering the fact that there's quite literally no trace of them anywhere. i was just notified of this by their mother and i'd also like to stop by their house after we get groceries tomorrow, if that's fine with you?" ei queried and scaramouche nodded. "sure."

the beeping of scaramouche's alarm clock woke him up. beams of sunlight peered through the blinds of his window. still tired, he sat upwards and opened the blinds, squinting from the brightness. suddenly, he was filled with energy.

"(y/n)'s sekai; they wanted to show it to me today!" scaramouche realized, running downstairs to get his phone from his jacket. he looked himself down and noticed. "shit, i'm still in pajamas." after a proper change of clothing, he found the untitled song file on the screen, just like yesterday.

miku exclaimed, "checkmate!" as she knocked over kaito's chess piece. kaito laughed, "miku, that's the third time you've been doing it wrong." miku whined, "eeh? but it's so complicated." luka giggled, "come, let me show you the way again- oh?"

scaramouche idly stood with a nervous face. are these the vocaloids they were talking about? he thought to himself, examining them. one of them was a man, dark blue hair and eyes, wearing a long white jacket with a blue scarf and yellow accents.

the other one seemed a little closer to his and (y/n)'s age; teal hair in pigtails and eyes of the same color, along with a white shirt and tie that paired up with a black skirt. and lastly, was a lady with long pink hair and dark purple eyes that wore a black outfit with hints of golden.

miku jumped up, "ooh, that must be (y/n)'s friend! they said he was going to come visit today, remember?" kaito perked up in realization, "ah, you're right." luka grinned, "it's great to finally meet you properly, scaramouche. we've heard so much about you from (y/n)."

"you should've told me he was here!" you complained as you shook miku by her shoulders. "it's not fair you're always doing things for me!" you added. miku stammered, "d-dizzy..." rin giggled, "slow down, (y/n). she might puke."

scaramouche glanced at your sekai in awe. he remembers this, your bedroom. he used to have so many playdates here. however, it was broken up into large fragments, and the floor was replaced with an ocean of water that you could walk on. behind the fragments, he could see bubbles that held past memories.

len ran through the water, letting droplets of it land on rin as he laughed. rin shouted, "hey, watch it!" she jumped off of your bed and went to chase him. meiko placed a hand on her hip, "well, there they go."

scaramouche glanced at a very specific bubble. the day he casted you aside and claimed he didn't want to be your friend any longer because you would distract him from studying. he frowned upon watching the tears fill the eyes of nine-year-old you.

"scara, what do you think of it?" you asked with a smile, coming out of nowhere from behind him. one of the bubbles landed in the palm of his hand and he chuckled, "it really is something, huh?" you held up a finger, "while we're here, i'll start explaining a little more about all of this."

scaramouche followed you to a specific part of your room. you showed him your phone, "see this?" he looked at the screen. "ah, that's the same thing i have on my phone too!" scaramouche said, pointing to the untitled song file.

you held your device to your chest, "once an actual song links to it, you'll know that you finally understand your true feelings." scaramouche blinked a few times, "so that means... it's been like that for you for six years now?"

you nodded as a response to his question. "have you left your sekai since?" he asked. you shook your head, "i haven't. but recently, i've met more people around our age that also own sekais. they're a very lively group, so you won't have to worry about me feeling isolated." you smiled and scaramouche's frown deepened.

"still, don't you miss the outside world?" he murmured, attempting to keep his voice quiet. you gave him a solemn grin, "i appreciate you trying but it just won't work, scara. i mean, why should i leave this wonderful haven for that?" you turned to face the entirety of your sekai and giggled every now and then from seeing the twins argue.

scaramouche hummed, "i guess so..."

moving forward, he stayed true to his promise. he visited his sekai daily to attempt at understanding himself, even though he couldn't exactly put his finger on what he was trying to understand. you and the other vocaloids were there to help him, of course.

scaramouche got to make new friends out of it; who knew they would be synthesizers? although right now, his top priority is getting you back at all costs.

"hey, scara, want to go spray paint the alleyway with us?" childe asked, almost jumping up and down with excitement. scaramouche, however, seemed to be in a rush. "sorry, i'm busy today." he said with an uncharacteristic smile as he packed up his things.

sandrone raised a brow, "again? there's literally no way." pantalone spun his pencil in between his fingers with a sigh, "don't tell us that. just say you don't want to come." rosalyne nudged him, "but scaramouche isn't like that. if he didn't want to come he would just straight up say so."

scaramouche smirked, "besides, this is going to be over soon. starting tomorrow, i'll join in on our hangouts again." columbina hummed, "tomorrow? so it actually looks like someone's been a busy boy." arlecchino sarcastically laughed, "you don't possibly think he's seeing someone... right?"

scaramouche jokingly added, "you never know." and with that, he left the classroom.

the end of the month finally made its arrival. he was happy to have met your friends and you again, but in all that time executing a plan, it was disrupted when he realized what his true feelings were, and yours.

scaramouche arrived in his sekai, just like always, and searched for you in every single classroom. when he got to his old homeroom, he entered. you were sitting atop the teacher's desk at the front with a book in your hands.

you looked up upon his entrance with a peaceful smile. "good afternoon, scara. today's the day, hm?" you said as you put aside your book and got off the table. "(y/n), i've realized my true feelings." scaramouche instantly declared with a determined gaze.

your brows raised. "is that so?" you queried, your tone appearing more disappointed than it should have. scaramouche narrowed his eyes, "and i also know that,"

"you lied to me."

your pupils dilated. "how so, scaramouche?" you asked as you brushed your fingers across the surface of the desk, approaching him. scaramouche backed away at first but knew better than to run from you.

"you found out a long time ago, didn't you? your feelings." he said. your gaze shifted elsewhere and he couldn't find a single speck of emotion nor regret in your eyes. "that's true, yes." you replied with no remorse for what you did.

scaramouche clenched his fist. "the untitled song file you showed me was a fake. the song you created from realizing your feelings is young girl a. why did you hide it?" his voice was strained as he fought back from breaking down.

"you always handled things alone and you never asked for help. it's not that you don't want to come back. you can't." scaramouche said and tears finally slipped from his eyes. "because you, (y/n) (l/n), are dead."

scaramouche continued, "you always have been dead, ever since you ran away from home when the both of us were twelve, haven't you? you were never given a sekai from your feelings. you made it on your own command."

you looked at him. "so what if i am dead? what should it matter to you? you don't matter to me, and you never have. it's just like you said when we were kids, right? i'm always following you around and asking you for help, so why shouldn't i do everything myself?"

"you're just like my parents. be more like this, (y/n). be more like them, (y/n). you're embarrassing, (y/n). you're a disappointment, (y/n). i don't think you realized, scaramouche, that i chose this path and i can't turn back now. yes, i want to return to the real world. i want to see my parents no matter how much i loathe them. because even though they'll resent me for my grades, they're the only parental figures i ever had."

you smiled, not even aware of the tears spilling down your face. "it's nice to think that they used to be carefree when i was only five. they didn't care about how i was doing in school back then until i reached the first grade."

scaramouche's shoulders raised up and down with every heave of breath he took. he suddenly took your hands, pulling you towards him as he shouted, "so i'll stay here, (y/n)! i'll stay here with you, i'll leave the world if it means i get to be with you again!"

you mumbled, "oh, scara..." you gingerly wrapped your arms around him as he cried into your shoulder. he gripped at your sleeve, "why didn't you ask for help? you were only twelve. you must have been so scared, all alone in the night without warmth."

even now, he could feel how cold you were.

you laughed, "it's passed now. i'll be fine without you. you'll be fine without me." scaramouche's eyes widened. you whispered in his ear, "goodbye, scaramouche." you crushed his phone in your hand. no song file, no way to the sekai.

the white flash covered the whole of his vision and he shook his head, reaching for your figure and he yelled your name. the world felt like it was spinning around scaramouche as he looked left and right for you, but he was back in his bedroom.

he muttered, "no, no, no," grabbing his phone, the screen was completely cracked and seemed impossible to repair. a few weeks after, scaramouche recieved a new phone in hopes of finding the song file. it wasn't there, and it never would be.

(1) new text from cool kids😵😵😹

childe i wonder how scara's doing:(

sandrone he seemed so off lately, i understand why ei let him take a break from school for awhile.

pantalone do you think it has anything to do with why he was so busy lately?

rosalyne i mean, probably. it's impossible he was seeing someone though, he never gets that beat up about exes.

arlecchino true... do you think we should visit him?

columbina no, i think it's best he gets some rest for now.

arlecchino alright. i'll see you guys in class.

closed

scaramouche felt so burnt out. he laid on his bed with a face void of any emotion as he listened to your song through his earpods; young girl a. the meaning of the song didn't help with how he was dealing with things at the moment.

the police never found your body but came to the conclusion that you died from hypothermia or hunger. to think, a twelve-year-old, all alone as they ran from their home. tears pooled his eyes and they fell down the sides of his face. "i'm sorry, (y/n). i'm sorry you think everyone failed you, including me."

"a new vocaloid made their debut?" he heard a young teenage girl ask her friend as scaramouche waited for the walking sign at the scramble crossing. her friend excitedly replied, "yeah! they look so cool, right? their name's (y/n)!" the girl furrowed her brows, "isn't that the name of the child who went missing years ago?" she mumbled.

scaramouche's shoulders tensed up. "speaking about that, rumors have been going around that this vocaloid is like their ghost 'cause it looks just like them too. creepy, right? it's so cool!" her friend giggled. the girl nervously smiled, "right..."

scaramouche looked downwards and he thought to himself for a few moments. you debuted, huh? i guess the only way i can see you is through your music videos now, scaramouche meant to put it off as a joke yet it made his gut churn even more.

your parents finally moved to a new city, not being able to bare living in the same house their child used to run around freely. scaramouche got back into school three months ago after a good month's rest, and his friends were overjoyed to see he was doing better.

he could only wonder what your life was like now as a mere illusion, shown to everyone for entertainment while they don't know the thoughts that remain in your mind. scaramouche knows what his true feelings are and what the song was that was associated with it.

he truly loved you. goodbye, my danish sweetheart - mitski.

"farewell, (y/n). though our time together was short, i enjoyed every single bittersweet second of it. i'll love you, dead or not, a simple synthesizer or not, human or not, i'll always love you."

© scaralvr.

[maliciouslove]

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕡𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤

SFW, characters aged up (21+) 

pairing // Bakugou Katsuki x reader

word count // 1.1k

tags // chaos, descriptions of mental illness, mention of self-harm, depiction of life as a struggle, financial struggle, mention of mental breakdowns, hurt/comfort

AN // I do not listen to Taylor Swift, but the lyrics of Paper Rings inspired this. I just needed comfort.

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night

Life isn’t perfect. It’s an unpredictable tidal wave that can either drown you or take you to some far off shore. It’s a storm that takes you by surprise, a force of nature you cannot control, nor predict. 

Life isn’t always beautiful. It can be ugly, painful; it can leave scars on your soul that still burn, never quite fading. Even the most beautiful rose will hurt you with its thorns. 

And life isn’t a fairy tale story with a happy ending—it’s a never-ending maze of horrors and miracles that you have no idea how to navigate. You wander until your feet bleed, but every once in a while you can stop and admire the flowers that have engulfed the tall walls. 

Life is difficult.

When you don’t come from money, and you’re barely getting by, swamped in work that doesn’t pay but requires a lot, drowning in bills and mental illness that cripples you and holds you hostage in the dark. When your family rejects you, and you have only two friends who (try to) keep you afloat and the orange cat you found by the dumpster behind your workplace during a breakdown. When life is a rollercoaster of unpleasant surprises and punches in the face and you can’t even finish your papers for school because your mind never shuts off, and you’re much, much too tired to deal with it all. 

When you're at your lowest… Life gave you a miracle called Bakugo Katsuki. 

Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright

And he didn’t come from money either. Thrifted clothes and a shitty attitude, misunderstood by the world, pushed aside by everyone because he never bites his tongue. Dark circles under his eyes because he too can’t sleep at night, because the nightmares always, always come back. And he keeps his shaking hands in his pockets, holding his head up high and refusing everyone’s pity. 

He, a stranger at that time, could recognize the telltale signs of you dissociating mid-party, and he took you outside and held you tight when you cried because you were overwhelmed. He gave you his hoodie and walked you home, choosing the streets that were most brightly lit so you wouldn’t be scared of the dark. And when you hide your wrists he chuckles and says If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine and rolls up his sleeves to show off his tattoos covering old scars. Thin familiar lines you can trace with your fingers.

And before you got inside your tiny apartment after thanking him and wishing him goodnight, he lingered a few moments longer, whispering a single It’ll be alright before disappearing. Back then you thought you’d never meet this stranger again, so you clutched his hoodie tight and allowed yourself a happy dream that night.

Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

One fateful day when the bell of the cafe rang, you looked up to the door, just about to end your shift, and it was the sight of a familiar blonde spiky hair that froze you and made your heart leap. Because when he smiled at you, hands still in his pockets, sauntering over to the register, your mind was for the first time in months absolutely clear. 

And he ordered his coffee to go and waited for you outside, talking to you like it was yesterday when he walked you home late into the night. And just like that, he reentered your life and nestled himself deep into your routine, into your heart, making each day just a little better than the one before. 

When the world was pushing you down, he’d wrap his hands around you and push back with you, never letting you cave and fold under the pressure. He’d be there for you. He’d hold your hand until it stopped shaking, and he’d kiss your tears away until his feather-light touches would tickle you and you would laugh again. 

When he’d get sick you’d take care of him, hot mugs of tea and homemade chicken soup, no peas because he hates them. You’d hold his hand and read him books until his fever comes down with gentle forehead kisses and quiet whispers of I’m not going to get sick, let me take care of you. And when he’s angry you would calm him, soothe his pain with hugs and kisses until he isn’t boiling anymore. You know he wouldn’t burn you, not ever. Like a fire that reduces even the densest of forests to ash, spreading fast and consuming all into his blaze—into his pain and anger—he only stops when he is met with your rain, dousing his flames.  

He planted flowers in pots, hung them on your walls, and promised to remind you to water them. Always made you a meal when you were too worn down to do so yourself. And he was okay sleeping with the lights on at night when the darkness felt like too much for you to handle. He stood up for you and stayed up late at night to cram for exams with you; carried you to bed when you would fall asleep on the little dining table. He’d set ten alarms making sure you woke up on time and made it to the exam hall in one piece. And he’d celebrate after each exam with a cake he made himself. 

Since you met him, your chest didn’t feel as tight. Because the burdens you had to carry you no longer shouldered by yourself. Because you had someone who understood and had your back. 

Because he was the one you wanted and have been waiting for your whole life. 

Oh, you're the one I want

And he was there when you graduated and took a bunch of pictures of you in a pretty navy dress holding your diploma and smiling brighter than the sun. He bragged to all his friends about how far you’ve come and the new job you found and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. 

And the first step was moving in with you. Finding a new place you would call your own and filling it with colors and picture frames that reminded you of how you met. Kiss good morning, kiss goodnight, never ever a kiss goodbye. For better or worse, in health and in sickness—you were poor but rich with love. 

And when the final boxes of his things were empty and his toothbrush was next to yours, his clothes folded in the drawer opposite of yours, his slippers kicked aside while yours were neatly placed by the door… you knew you were where you were supposed to be. With the person who was meant to be with you. The person who understood and accepted your pain and loved you for who you are. Scars, trauma, sleepy smiles and all. Just unconditional love.

You sit by the window that night, marvelling in the knowledge that you live together now, sipping beers straight from the bottles and just looking at the city lights outside. He fiddles with his beer and peels the label off, folding it into a little paper ring, smiling to himself as he sets his beer aside and takes your hand in his. 

Slipping the little paper ring onto your ring finger, he looks like the happiest man alive.

“One day I’ll save up get you a real one and ask you to marry me.” He looks into your eyes, hoping you would like that idea. In his mind your future together is playing like a movie, bright and full of color and laughter, so he’s taken by surprise when you suddenly kiss him and hide your face into the crook of his neck, barely whispering the words: “Dummy… I’d marry you with paper rings.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

[monstershowdowns]

WHAT IS THIS? IS THIS THE SOUND OF NIGHTMARES EMERGING?!

Monster enjoyers from all over the world, welcome to the Great Monster Showdown of 2023! 64 monsters, but only ONE can be the winner! Who will win the crown? YOU decide!

Our competitors are organised in 4 teams of 16 monsters each: Team Blood, Team Mystery, Team Flesh, and Team Teeth! As much as I would have enjoyed to make these names actually make sense, they don't! I just threw them in because I color-coded the names for better readability and thought it would look cool.

Also, I didn't use images because this would be way harder to read than it already is.

Below, an image ID of the bracket, along explanations of who came from what and some rules! Ignore that there's two "Slimes" competitors in here, they're from completely different medias. Now:

IMAGE ID:

A 64 character bracket. Below, our competitors:

TEAM BLOOD:

The Beast from Beauty and the Beast vs The Asset from The Shape of Water

Slimes from Slime Rancher vs The Monster from A Monster Calls

Pyramid Head from Silent Hill vs Sniffles from Happy Three Friends

Mothman the cryptid vs Greymon from Digimon

Every single Pokemon vs Medusa from Greek Mythology

Zoe from Monster Prom vs Rem and Ryuk from Death Note

Helen and Michael from TMA vs The Other Mother from Coraline

Slenderman from the internet horror vs Venom from the movie Venom

TEAM MYSTERY:

Mimics from Dragon quest vs Undyne from Undertale

Sirenhead the internet horror vs Galeem from Super Smash Bros Ultimate

Werewolves from folklore vs Dugon from Just Roll With It, Riptide

Clickers from TLoU vs King Crawler from Omori

Preeminent from Ninjago vs Nessie the cryptid

Mitzutsune from Monster Hunter vs Pennywise from It

The Rake from creepypasta vs Bendy from BATIM and BATDR

TEAM FLESH:

Godzilla and Mothra from the movies vs Woodcrawlers from Gemini Home Entertainment

Kraken from folklore and mythology vs Jabberwocky from Alice In Wonderland

The Bear from Anihilation vs SCP-682 from the SCP Foundation

Goliath from Gargoyles vs Barclay from The Adventure Zone: Amnesty

Draculaura and Ghoulia Yelps from Monster High vs King from The Owl House

Damien LaVey from Monster Prom vs Discord from MLP

TEAM TEETH:

Fresno Nightcrawler the cryptid vs The Death Angels from A Quiet Place

Jersey Devil the cryptid vs Slimes from Dragon Quest

Francoeur from A Monster In Paris vs Enderman from Minecraft

Necrodeus from Kirby Mass Attack vs Xenomorph from Alien

Adam Frankenstein from Frankenstein vs Summerween Trickster from Gravity Falls

SCP-999 from the SCP Foundation vs Akanin from Turma da Mônica Jovem/Mônica's Gang Teen

Cthulhu from The Call of Cthulhu vs The Thing from The Thing

END IMAGE ID

Once gain, the team thing means nothing, and it's only there to facilitate navigation and readability. Some things:

Tournamente will begin on the 20th of March, with the polls from Team Blood being released! You will have 3 whole days to vote.

Propaganda is free and should be tagged as #monsterpropaganda. Putting other competitors down to make your own monster look better is not allowed, however.

Happy monster showdown!

[sailoryooons]

100 Drabble Challenge

Welcome to my 100 Drabble Challenge m. list! This year, @gimmethatagustd and I are challenging ourselves to write 100 drabbles together throughout the year. For my challenge, I will be using a random number generator to select from our compiled list of tropes that also have a number assigned to them for my drabbles each week! 

All 100 drabbles will be split as equally as I can for each member, which means roughly each member will have a total (give or take some) of fourteen drabbles each at the end of the year. My goal is to do 2-3 drabbles a week! 

This challenge was inspired by this post about 100 different AUs.

☾ Ask ☾ Main Masterlist ☾ List of Tropes ☾

Note: Drabbles will not use a tag list.

S - Smut | A - Angst | F - Fluff | DD - Dead Dove | H/C - Hurt/Comfort

King of Tides | A | Lovers to Enemies | Pirates | Pirate!Seokjin x Sea Demon!Reader | Completed

COMING SOON...

COMING SOON...

Spider Web | Supernatural | Vampores | Predator/Prey | Smut | Established Relationship | Vampire!Hoseok x Human!Reader | Completed

Playing games with vampires is a bad idea. Playing with Spiders is worse.

The Underneath | Thriller | Horror | Monster!Jimin x reader (gn) | Completed

“Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil OR there is a monster under your bed and you've looked back at it for too long

In Every Life | Reincarnation | Friends to Something | Soulmates | Taehyung x Jimin | Completed

Taehyung has lived thousands of lives. He has recognized his soulmate in every single one of them, a gift of his bloodline. Finally, he has crossed paths with his soulmate once again. 

Bust | Smut | PWP | Heistman!Taehyung x f. reader | Completed

Seeing a beautiful man in the middle of a bank robbery is unusual. Seeing him again afterward is even more unlikely… and yet not unlucky. 

Boyfriend Material | Smut | Angst | FWB | Hockey Player!Jungkook x f. reader | Completed

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material – except when he is. 

Notice: This blog is against using artificial intelligence or any AI platform under any circumstances. You do not have my consent to share my works, words, or any content on this blog with AI under any circumstances.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS members are not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

[jomeimei421]

hi do you have any more fic recs?? ive read everything you already recommended in the last post and i am Terrible at finding fics myself-

why yes indeed i do <(:]) spoilers for all of ORV under the cut! Here is a link to my other fic rec post for those who haven't seen it yet.

Mei's ORV Fic Recs 2: Electric Boogaloo

Looking for Yoo Joonghyuk by Je_te_veux

GEN, written for YJH's birthday. A canon compliant exploration of YJH's search to find the answers to who he is and what he should live for. Takes place during the epilogue. Again, JTV is a Chinese author so you will need to read their fics with material translation, but their writing is remarkable! I'm especially fond of the way they wrote YJH and Anna Croft, and also, I have a soft spot for things where YJH (who has had to carry the enormous burden of the Story for so long) finally gets to do some reading and writing of his own.

Love & Affection Do (Not) a Cat Make by featherx

Sangsoo, with a side of Joongdok. The misadventures of HSY (cat) and YJH (cat???). I have a special spot in my heart for this fic because cat HSY is written so hysterically well it has permanently affected my own characterization of HSY. Funny, charming, cute, but as with all things orv, has a very sweet and sad undertone.

Great Escapes by wyrvel

JDJ. YJH attempts to confess. KDJ does not make things easy for him. The calling card of a great jdj confession fic is a tasteful amount of KDJ brand tomfoolery, just enough to make you want to grab him and shake him like maracas. This fic accomplishes that with flying colors. It's written from YJH's pov, but you can just feel the gears turning and steam puffing out of KDJ's head. Op understands babygirl YJH. As a warning, this is the first part of a three fic series, the other two are NSFW.

Only I know how this show will end! by ineedacatchyname

YHK. Our favorite toxic polycule, now on live tv! A truly tremendous Love Island AU fic. My absolute favorite thing about this fic is that every time a character is introduced, there's a cutaway to their Love Island Love Interest Self Introduction Sexy Beach Montage Reel written in the style of a TV film script and every last one of them had me crying real tears. YSA is also excellent in this fic.

World's End Rhapsody by wakerife

JDJ, with a side of Sangsoo. This was one of the first orv fics I read, before I started bookmarking them; there's a really sweet scene of YJH reading that I couldn't get out of my head so I went on a hunt to find this fic again by searching through every single ORV fic tagged with "post-canon." A collection of KDJ recovery snippets, punctuated by some heartfelt jdj.

At Sea by ksalientian

YHK. The dead return from the sea, including KDJ. He doesn't come back exactly how they remember. Eerie, melancholy, and permeated with slow, enormous loss. There are some horror like elements in this fic, but it's more psychological than something that might make you squeamish. Yoohan are going through it. Fantastic fic!

I don't want to fall asleep just yet by featherx

GEN. Pre-canon. There's a ghost that lives inside of HSY's house. A short character study on the loneliness of a writer.

A New Story Written by pyrrhura

YHK. KDJ worries in the middle of the night about being responsible for a new story, and about being a father. Or, three idiots and baby. I love fics where yhk get their blissfully mundane happy ending, but op doesn't confuse that with forgetting the traumas and hardships of the past. Love the banter in this fic, and the way they just lean on one another without even thinking. As a warning, there are discussions of unplanned pregnancy in this.

Ain't Nobody Solving That Declining Birth Rate by dulcetair

YHK. KDJ is fresh out of a coma (broke) and YJH is a former terrorist (also broke.) The post-scenario government issues a cash incentive for people to get married. Or, the gang commits marriage fraud! Features YJH wearing a apron that says grillmaster on it. I was already a firm believer in YHK getting married for """tax benefits""" because it makes things easier for KDJ who is too embarrassed to admit anything otherwise, but the idea of HSY using Avatars to game the system and buy a three story house just for funsies is also incredibly in character.

What the Living Do by younglegends

GEN. Snapshots of mourning, loving, and longing from various KCom members' points of view. The chronological events of this fic are backwards, which makes for an interesting read. Younglegends hasn't written a lot of ORV stuff yet, but the two fics that they have so far are both downright phenomenal, and some of the best work I've seen in this community. They are also the author of the fic that I refused to spoil in the previous orv fic rec. Also, their YSA characterization is perfect.

That's all for now! Enjoy!

[celticcatgirl2]

God I fucking hate Vegeta so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully smug, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid scrunkly face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking hairline? Who the hell makes a "bad boy" boy friend of the main girl with a hairline like that. His dumb short ass stumpy legs? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking POINTY HAIR STANDING UP IN ONE DIRECTION that no Saiyan has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Vegeta or an Vegeta gif or a shitty goddamn anime clip, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Vegeta the fuckshit monkey fucker, I am the prince of all Saiyans ". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like the grumpy troll from trolls world tour summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking creased forehead and your stupid, empty souless eyes and your over-the-top douchey ass arrogant asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking Shonen anime, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the Prince of all shitfucks is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking scouter. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional alien

[look-how-they-massacred-them]

Preliminary Poll

Susan Pevensie

Submission reason:

So what if she liked makeup, Clive. So what if she was interested in boys? Who cares if she wanted to keep her dress looking neat? You took every single protagonist to weird lion heaven, Clive, but suddenly Susan isn't good enough. Susan did nothing to deserve the sudden turn in characterization, she did nothing to deserve being the only character to be condemned. SOMEbody (lookin' at you, Clive Staples) was just a raging misogynist who wanted girls and women to be really clear on the fact the betraying your siblings nearly to death was forgivable, but being interested in feminine things and taking pride in your appearance was punishable by death. "Lipsticks and nylons and invitations", the fucking horror. Because you were writing a fun fantasy story for us, right Clive? Magic and dragons and animals that talk. But you fucking weren't. You were writing an indoctrination story for us, weren't you? And you needed someone to represent those empty headed young people who turn away from the church's rules. And so you decided that Susan had become too grown up and you massacred her.

Propaganda:

Neil Gaiman's 'The Problem of Susan' (someone tag Neil Gaiman in this one! he has Opinions!)

[sioster]

Close ups & characters grouped up down below. Translations in image descriptions.

Only fandoms tagged are going to be dsmp and tfm cuz I ain't tagging 6 communities in one post.

Mad duo <3 babygirls. If the handwriting is bad, the song is "Be nice to me" by The Front Bottoms.

A bunch of osmpburs, [redacted] with little guys as stand ins for phil, bbh and foosh. Random cats & mice along with DST spider and Verdant skin Wilson.

Rivals <3 drat and d.. dcat? dritten i think. They look awful compared to this pretty Tech. The priettiest little piggy ever.

Armageddon's toll! Wilbur being a cute little bartender mouse :) Elisah the goddes of Transformice waa she's the pretty angel mouse we love her.

Every single possible thing in one place: Dream blobs, my Transformice oc, weird cats, Friend (I think), Pyro TF2 and Moon FNaF. I'm crying. This is how my brain looks like inside.

Random Tfm & Tfm Adventures mice and little Sun FNaF with blobs.

Individual crop for Mousefur since she got cut off </3 look at this absolute Queen.

I'm thrroiwng upp why does Wilson look so bad here please someone kill him, put him out of his misery. Webber DST my precious child, random kitty, obligatory Pogbur, DST Crawling Horror and some kind of Chica. No idea what version this is supposed to be.

Webber napping on Gloomer awwe. Zia-zia my favourite creature. Also little blobs :)