#I love drawing hair goddammit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters

~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~

-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.

You are devastated.

You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.

You can’t believe John turned out that way.

Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.

You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.

You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.

Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.

Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.

You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.

“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.

“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”

“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

“No?”

“No. I think you have a mean streak.”

He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.

God, are you really such a fool?

“Doesn't everyone?”

You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound.

“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”

“Like last night? I didn't like that.”

The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?

“Yes you did.”

“Not the last part.”

“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”

In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.

“My fanny.”

He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.

You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.

“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.

How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?

“Why did you leave me, like that?”

You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.

“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.

Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.

“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”

“No.”

“Disobeying you did.”

“Yes.”

“That’s kinda fucked up.”

“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”

“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.

“Yes, you, kitten.”

The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue.

“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?”

“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”

He was a little more than that, you reckoned.

“You want to control me.”

“That’s part of it.”

“Why?”

He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”

You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”

He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.

The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.

You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.

“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”

The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”

Your heart drops to your feet.

“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.

That was in Rome, after all.

What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…

“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”

“I’ve been protecting you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”

You frown at this.

“So…you think I’m stupid?”

“No, of course not.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”

“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”

The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.

For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.

“How do you know about the monsters, John?”

“I just know.”

“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”

He glares at you, which you take as a no.

“Interpol?”

You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.

“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.

“Were you in the mob?”

“Not…specifically.”

Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.

“Bratva, then.”

You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.

“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.

“Not clever enough,” you sigh.

You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.

You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.

Not with John Wick, though.

“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.

He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”

“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.

“Enjoying this?”

“A little.”

“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”

He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.

The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.

Well, fuck.

“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”

“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.

“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”

He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.

“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”

“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.

“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.

You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.

That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.

However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.

“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.

When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.

“Holy fuck.”

“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.

Utterly horrified, you run.

“Y/n, wait!”

You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.

It’s not fast enough.

When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.

Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.

“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”

Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick #john wick fic #congrats you fought john wick and lived!#i love you allllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!

182 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 9 months

Note

I want something to spook witch really bad to the point where Price finds her curled up in a corner and just fucking picks her up and holds her and soothes her. And she just melts into him and has a moment where she feels safe in his arms but then has to deal with the fact that that goes against everything she believes. I love this slow burn, I don’t want them to fuck I just want them to cuddle a little bit, or for price to just cup her face in his big hands and look into her eyes and realize he doesn’t even care about getting tethers in her, he just wants to be near her. I’m so normal about them.

I'm so normal about them and I absolutely haven't read this one hundred times just thinking about Price and Witch being soft with each other. Sorry to the anons that want them to fuck, I want them to be unendingly tender with each other.

I want Price to be so familiar with Witch and her workings that he can pluck out her herbs before she even asks for them. Price sitting at the kitchen table and watching her work because he loves seeing his Witch in her element. I want him to loop an arm around her shoulders without thinking when she sits down next to him. So that Witch never worries if she's being too clingy when she leans against his side and drapes her legs over his lap. I want them to look at each other and know that's their person. Anyway I love you here's some words from further in their relationship:

There aren't many things that scare you. Witchcraft sort of necessitates that you maintain a healthy respect for the things that should make you cry in terror. So when you do get scared, you're never quite sure how to handle it. You know the basics of the responses: fight, flight, freeze, fawn, it's the execution you're never sure of.

You're actually glad you don't have the sight when you feel it walk past you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up at the daunting pressure the creature exudes. Your eyes dart up as if it might be walking by undisguised. You step to the side, to let it pass, your hand flying to grip one of Price's tethers. The man that passes you is only slightly smaller than your first glance, his face covered with what you assume is Mal's work the way your perception slides off of it. You can feel the danger of him, the predatory sweep of his eyes, you feel like a hapless civilian in Jurassic park watching a t-res walk by you.

His head tilts curiously at you, his walk only paused to assess whatever danger your attention might hold. The tether buzzes warm and insistent against your hold, you drop it quickly when the creature's eyes move to see what you'd been gripping so tightly. You think that might have been a mistake, drawing attention to your magic when fae are around is always a mistake.

The teeth on this thing, you hardly need your hagstone to see them. The hungry aggression in its eyes is enough to let you glimpse the dangerous spines that run down its back, to feel the swing of its tail and hear the crack of its claws. You're pulled back against the familiar tobacco scent of Price as a voice asks,

"König? What's wrong?"

Price's arm wraps around your shoulders, and you turn into his grip, not proud of the way you hide from this monster. It doesn't matter, Price doesn't care if you hide, you know that. That's why you can turn your back to such an overpowering threat, and how you know with absolute surety that you're safe in Price's hold.

"So this is where you've been hiding," You can feel the suppressed growl in Price's chest where you press close, the feigned politeness.

"Price," The fae, König you suppose, greets. You don't know if the voice really fits the monster, that helps to soften some of your fear. "I know your shadow is in the city, I should have assumed you would be too."

"Just for business." Price tells him.

"Business," König sounds out the word, like he doesn't believe him, "what business?"

"Are you scaring people again?" The same voice from before, closer now, "Goddammit." The overpowering presence seems to rush out of the air, intimidation melting away to give room for something softer. Now it's Price's turn to tense. You turn your head to peak at the overgrown fae, and the woman chastising him. König seems much less scary when he's got his shoulders scrunched up and his head hung low.

#1fae1 #tf 1fae1 #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #oc: witch #john price x oc #captain price x oc #fae!Price #Witch immediately like: Oh wait I know that woman #This is your boyfriend??? The old god masquerading as a normal fae?#Price isn't scared of you König stop trying

458 notes · View notes

grooviestsadpapaya · 28 days

Note

Hi! Nice to meet you. I adore your story and drawings, but seeing the story of Sheik and everything he went through for being a non-blonde boy who received the blessing of one of the goddesses and the triforce of wisdom, made me wonder what would happen if there was a female Zelda reincarnation of Hylia but looking more Sheikah than Hylian (you know silver hair instead of blonde and eyes that can be red or a mixture of purple instead of blue), suppose it's because her mother is Sheikah and Impa is her grandmother? How would the royal family treat her?Sorry to bother you with that but my brain couldn't help but wonder.

SORRY. IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER THIS IS THINK TUMBLR IS GLITCHED?? It’s tweaking. Like genuinely tweaking. Anyways.

It’s funny because this is kinda lowkey the lore I have for Hilda in Shadow Over Hyrule. Kinda. A little. She’s the illegitimate child of the Hylian Queen after a fling with a Sheikah guy. But I had an excuse to show a character and GODDAMMIT IM GONNA SHOW HER because I think she deserves the world.<3

anyways. To answer your question my friend. I think that the entire prospect changes when you put Impa in the position of grandma because holy shit. So much stuff that happened to sheik would NOT happen to this hypothetical princess. The Queen wouldn’t even try to pull any bleach shit. Because Impa would be IN THERE DUDE. she would not put up with ANYTHING. It’d be OVER. More under the cut

Overall though I think it would change a lot. The reason that Sheik’s hair was bleached is because their hair was black, which, you know, the Royal family has weird connotations with “darkness”. Kinda like zeldatubers. It’s almost like none of the events of Twilight Princess ever happened. “Light is nothing without darkness, they are two sides of the same coin and when isolated everything becomes one-dimensional.” “So dark evil. I understand.” If they had grey hair, I don’t think they would react the same. The red eyes though? Probably a different story. Idk. Anyways sorry for yapping but I love hypotheticals!!

70 notes · View notes

oreosmama · 2 years

Text

He Has a Nightmare About You (Stranger Things Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: started watching this show for momma Steve, stayed for the other, also hot characters. Don’t judge me if a vecna version of this comes out soon👀 Enjoy!

Billy Hargrove:

He dreams of you often, but never quite like this.

You’re in his arms; his lips are on yours, and your hands are in his hair.

When he pulls away, it’s to brush a strand back from your face, pushing it behind your ear while gazing into your eyes. A smile is on his face, inherently small and lopsided, but genuine.

It’s one of those times where he can’t believe how happy you make him, how much he loves you. You turn him into a teenage boy with a puppy crush all over again, but as long as no one else is around, he doesn't mind that one bit. Vulnerability did not come easy to him, but with you, he’d tear down every wall he’d ever put up just to get closer to you. Just to hold onto you that much longer.

“Billy…” you hum, your hands coming up to cover his own along your cheeks. He feels infinitely warmer, more relaxed at your touch, and he leans that much closer to you.

“YN…” Billy drawls back teasingly, blue eyes soft and expectant on yours. Your breath ghosts over his lips, and fuck if he didn’t hate that you made a shiver roll down his spine.

“I hate you.”

His smile falters. “What?”

You tug his hands off your face, leading them to drop to his sides before stepping back. You shake your head. “I hate you, Billy.”

Billy’s body grows cold. His lips part as he searches for words, eyes raking over your face for any hint of jest. “This isn’t funny, YN.” He lets out a breathless laugh, but it’s dull and fake and trying to draw some sort of usual response from you.

“It’s not supposed to be. I’m serious, Billy.”

His nostrils flare, and he wants to be angry. He wants to grab you and pull you back into his chest and make you wish you’d never said those words, make you wish you never hurt him, make you promise that you’d never hurt him like this again.

You said that once, that you’d never hurt him like he has been before. You promised.

He bites into his bottom lip, willing a level of restraint, or rather, indifference.

She promised.

Time moved slowly the second you pulled away from him. Carefully, your arms came up to cross over one another at your chest. Your eyes hardened, not angry or frustrated, but certainly more serious and intentional from when you had said his name earlier.

He’d never seen you so cold—not at him.

“What changed?” The words slipped from his lips, but the second they did, he didn’t bother fighting to take them back. He felt trapped in his own skin, unable to escape the anger, the hatred, the i that coursed through veins. “Why now, I mean, after-” he cut himself off with a scoff, bitterly licking his lips, “-after fucking everything we’ve been through together, you just, what, hate me?”

He hated it, this. He hated you, and he’d never done that before. Even the thought of his betrayal being directed toward you made him feel sick. She promised.

Billy looked away, wrenching a hand through his hair and not bearing to stare at you when he spoke. “You- God,” the corners of his eyes pricked, “you said you loved me. What happened to that?” He glanced at you, hating, hating, hating that you were making him feel this fucking way. Throat tightening, he barked out, “What fucking happened to that?!”

“I don’t love you, Billy,” you muttered, seemingly unaffected by his display of emotions. “I could never.”

And you saw it. He knew you saw it. He knew you saw it because he wiped it away, and your eyes had followed his hand as he had.

He was crying. Goddammit, he was so fucking weak.

Despite it all, despite every single horrible moment in his life, he never knew the feeling of true despair until you were taking your love for him back and saying it wasn’t real.

“Billy, come on.” Your tone was persuasive, placating like you were trying to reason with him. You were talking to him as though you were telling a child that Santa or the Easter Bunny wasn’t real, that they never were, and they never will be.

You used that same soothing, calming tone the first time you tried to convince Billy that you did love him. He remembered your exact words. “I love you, and no matter how much you fight me on it, I won’t let you take that away from me.” You had been caressing a fresh bruise on his cheek, and the kiss you had left there had overpowered the pain of his father’s wound.

“Don’t,” Billy mumbled. “Stop.”

Don’t corrupt that voice, he pleaded, though the words wouldn’t escape him. Don’t take that away from me.

“Billy.” You drew his attention back to you, and, despite the stiffness of his cheeks and lips, he sneered at your pitying gaze. “Be realistic. How could I have ever loved you?”

“Stop.”

“Your father hates you, Billy.” Your voice raised, eyes burning with a new fire into his own watery ones. “Your own mother left you. Do you know what that makes you?”

“Stop.”

“Do you know what that makes you, Billy?” you demanded, teeth bared. “It makes you unloveable.”

“STOP!”

“Billy?”

“STOP!” Billy flinched awake, sweat dripping down his forehead and spine, shivering at the breeze of his bedroom. Chest heaving, his eyes were wild and unfocused as they darted about the dark room, few objects such as his dresser and desk only visible due to the moonlight filtering through his window.

Sighing heavily, Billy dragged his hands down his face, groaning softly and massaging his temples.

“What a fuckin’ nightmare,” he grumbled before peering over at you.

You, still curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully. Your hair splayed out along one of his pillows, one of his shirts wrinkled and twisted around your form, your leg still crooked over his hips.

You were still his. Thank fuck, you were still his.

“YN,” he shook you awake, one hand on your shoulder.

You hummed in your sleep, lips twitching downwards at the disturbance. “Wha…?” you grumbled, not bothering to open your eyes.

“Babe, c’mon, let’s go for a drive. Wake up.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned.

“Yessss.”

“Can I sleep on the drive?”

He raised a brow. “You think you’ll be able to?”

One eye of yours peeked open, focusing on him instantly. You pouted.

Billy’s chest tightened, but for the first time since the dream, he felt like he could breathe. Thank God. He was not going to sleep another wink tonight. Not in that damned house, at least.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. Stop giving me your little puppy dog eyes.” You rolled off the bed, falling onto the floor with a thud before rising to your feet and wrapping a blanket around your head and shoulders like a cloak. “But there are ground rules, mister.” You held up your hand to him. “One, you can’t drive over 30 miles an hour. Two, no loud music- or, wait, no music at all-”

“What?”

“-Three, only for the next hour or so, then we’re going back to my place to go to sleep.” You gave him a pointed look. “Deal?”

His lips sloped into his usual smirk as he rose to his feet, arms instantly moving to wrap around your waist and tug you into his chest, close and tight.

“Deal.”

You. You, you, you. God, he never wanted to think about that nightmare again, and if he never again heard the words “I hate you” fall from your lips, even as a joke, it would be too soon. You were still his, and he knew, he fucking knew, dammit, that you loved him.

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“Don’t ask.”

Steve Harrington:

“Steve,” Robin muttered softly. Her gaze was downcast, and she had one arm around the front of his chest and shoulders, trying to hold him back and redirect him. “Don’t look.”

“What’s going on?” He tried to peer around the others, all of whom either had their backs turned or looked at him mournfully. “Hey, what’s-” he tried to push past Robin, but Dustin rushed forward to help stop him, “-what the hell is going on?! Guys?!”

They all stood in a half circle around… something, he couldn’t see what. The kids and Nancy and Goddamn everyone except-

“YN,” Steve breathed out in realization. His heart was stuck in his throat, and the pounding of his own blood drowned out the quiet whispers of the others. “No. No, no, no, no—NO!” He shoved past the pairs of arms, pushing past a tearful Max and a sobbing Eleven, only to feel his whole body flinch back at the sight.

“YN,” he whispered again, horrified at the sight, not wanting to believe it. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh God.”

Blood was- was everywhere. Steve’s knees wobbled and gave out as he collapsed into the forest floor beside you. His hands hovered over your body, feeling the heat rolling off it in waves from the gushes of hot, crimson liquid seeping from obscured wounds. A pool of it, he realized, dampened the knees of his jeans, cooling against his skin.

“Steve,” you whimpered, “I’m scared. It hurts so bad.” You trembled, hands curled into tight fists as you clenched your eyes shut, tears trailing down into your sweat-soaked hair.

“This isn’t right—you can’t… fuck.” He tore a hand through his brown tufts before springing into action, scraping himself along the damp soil to ease his legs underneath your back, your body lying perpendicular to his so he could lean your head in his lap.

“YN, I…” he trailed off, gasping for air as his wavering hands encompassed your face. “I don’t know what to do,” he choked out helplessly.

And you reached up to grasp his wrist, eyes so innocent and terrified. “Steve, please, I don’t wanna die.”

“This was never supposed to happen,” he rambled indignantly. “No no no because I was supposed to protect you because I always protect you, and now this is going so, so fucking wrong.” He felt the oncoming headache that arrived with fresh tears, the snot dribbling down his nose and onto his upper lip, the cold sweat that covered his body head to toe. He wanted to throw up and sob and hold you close and tight and never, never fucking let you go.

His own heart, as you lay in his arms, was being ripped from his chest. No help was coming, there was no time to heal or press on what was already far too damaged to halt. You were… you were…

“Please,” you wailed, your screams echoing into the forest. He could hear the others shuffling around behind him, their own sobs fading into the mix. “No, please, I don’t wanna die! Steve, please!”

Steve could feel your cheeks getting colder, and he watched as your hands slowly began to unfurl at your sides. “YN, I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me, I can’t-” his own whimper cut himself off.

“Steve,” you gasped for breath, your voice so small, so weak. “You said you would protect me.” The furrow in your brow smoothed itself out, and your chest began to slow its heaving movements.

“I know, I know,” he weeped. “I love you so much, please don’t leave me.”

“You love me?” you whispered back. Your eyes, that had been locked on his for so long, filled with fear and anguish, shifted away, losing themselves in the black sky above. A small smile broke out on your bloodstained lips.

“YN?” Steve questioned fearfully, sniveling as he peeled the hair away from your face.

“I never knew that you loved me, Steve.” A single tear broke loose from your eyelids as you let them droop closed. “I love…” You mouthed the word you before you sighed, your body finally losing all of its tension, its stress—its fear.

Steve let out a quivering breath, his hands cupping your cheeks swiftly. “YN? YN?!”

“Steve.” A hand pressed on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off viciously.

“YN!” He peeled back your eyelids, blanching at the blank look in your irises. “No, no, come on, I was supposed to protect you!” he cried out hysterically.

Steve’s body curled over yours like he was collapsing in on himself, mouth mumbling pleas as he slid a hand over your chest, above your heart.

Nothing.

“Steve!” The hand on his shoulder was more insistent, shaking him back and forth violently.

No. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now, not yet.

“Steve, wake up!”

“What?” Steve’s eyes flew open, and his head straightened up from the back of the couch, causing Dustin to yelp and jump back in shock.

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” the younger boy screeched, leaving Steve wincing and pressing two hands to his ears.

“Goddamn,” he hissed, “You really need to hit puberty faster; these voice cracks of yours are gonna leave me deaf one of these days.”

“Well it’s not my fault you sleep like a bear in hibernation.”

“Ew, what? That's disgusting, Dustin,” Steve grimaced.

Dustin facepalmed. “You’re thinking of ‘heat,’ genius, I said ‘hibernation.’”

Steve faltered, nodding absentmindedly. “Oh.”

“Yeah, anyways,” he rolled his eyes, “you better head home.”

“Movie night over already?” Steve dug his palms against his eyes, trying harshly to wipe away the image of—er, that happening to you—from his mind.

“Uh, yeah,” Dustin deadpanned, “Princess Leia changed out of her bikini about two hours ago, but I’m glad you were paying attention.”

“Well, look, if it makes you feel any better, the dream I just had was terrible,” Steve groaned, rising up from the coach and grabbing his jacket off the coffee table.

“Yeah, I heard. Something about ‘oh no’ and ‘don’t leave’ and ‘YN, YN, YN.’” The tween rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you ask me, I’d say just ask her out already, ‘cause your pining from a distance is getting pretty depressing.”

Steve stared at him with pursed lips and blank, dead eyes.

Then he fondled for his car keys in his jacket pocket and huffed. “Yep, I’m gonna go. See ya around, Henderson.”

“I’m serious, Steve!” Dustin called after him. “It’s getting creepy! Why don’t you just tell her that you’re absolutely whipped for-”

Steve slammed the door of his house, trekking towards his car while grumbling under his breath. “Frickin’ Dustin. I’m not whipped. Nobody,” he slid into the seat of his car, staring into the rearview mirror and adjusting it, “nobody has ever had me…” he paused, staring at his bloodshot eyes, at his tear-stained cheeks.

“Fuck.” He glanced back at Dustin’s house, its windows still open and flashing with the action of a movie.

Goddammit, Henderson.

Steve put his car into drive, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, but when he slowed at his usual turn, he slammed the brakes on the car instead and stared at the sign of the intersecting street.

You lived almost two blocks from there—Steve never realized that.

He could—no, no he couldn’t. It was the middle of the night, around eleven o’clock according to his dash, so why in the world did he have the right to wake you up for news like that?

It can wait. His feelings can wait.

He said those exact words ten more times as he drove to your house, clumsily throwing it into park alongside the sidewalk in front of your home. He knew which window corresponded with your room, as aside from being the group babysitter and helicopter mother, he was also the chauffeur.

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. “This is so dumb; this is a terrible idea. One of the worst, actually.”

But he picked up the pebble out of your garden and chucked it at your window anyway, pure adrenaline launching the rock at a high speed and making perfect contact with the middle of the glass.

It also left a sizable crack.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed under his breath, hands flying up to his hair as he saw your light switch on. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The window slid up, and before he knew it, your glare found his form. Your head was leaned outside of the window, hands braced against the sill as you whisper-shouted at him. “Seriously, Steve?! What the fuck?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he jogged closer to your house, questioning scaling the side to climb into your window, but then he noticed your tangled, matted hair and nightshirt. “Yeah, that’s my bad, I, uh,” he chuckled nervously, “sometimes I forget my own strength.” He shrugged lamely.

You gestured angrily at the window. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this?”

This is going so wrong. Dammit, he knew this wouldn’t go well.

“YN,” he called out to you, trying to get your attention as you investigated the crack with a sigh.

“What, genius? Got another grand idea?” you snarked. “Why don’t you go break the locks off my front door too while you're at it-”

“YN, I’m in love with you.”

You choked on your next words, eyes flying open. “What?!”

“I’m just- I’m in love with you, and I really wanted you to know that.”

While he shifts back and forth on his feet, your mouth bobs open and closed.

“Are you serious?” you finally land on.

“Don’t call me Shirley?” he offered back lamely, and you dragged a hand down the front of your face.

Nonetheless, you wore a wide, abashed grin. “You’re a goddamn fool, Steve Harrington.”

Steve shook his head and smiled at that. “Only for you, babe.”

“Now go home and go to sleep so I can kiss you tomorrow, dumbass,” you waved him away.

A stupid, lovesick smirk took over his face, painting him the absolute dope you always pegged him as. “Sounds like a plan, doll.” He spun around, swallowing a large gulp of air and wondering if you could see the way his hands shook as he unlocked his car.

“Steve! Wait!”

He turned back, almost too eager, to see a large blush blooming on your face in the light of your room. “I love you too.”

What a horrible, terrible, shitty-ass, perfectly timed nightmare.

#stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington #billy hargrove #x reader #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #steve harrington headcanons #billy hargrove headcanons #steve harrington x reader angst #billy hargrove x reader angst

1K notes · View notes

nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 5 months

Note

Hhiiiii I hope you're doing well 🥺 I had a pretty depressing day at work so I was really happy to see the fluffy alphabet requests.

Could I get I,K, and M with Zoro please? Thank you!! And take care!! 💕💕

I know depressing days are the worst, at work or otherwise, so ngl I kinda jumped on top of this the second you sent it.

I hope this helps even a little.

And thank you for the request!! 💕

Fluffy Alphabet Masterlist here

I is for I Love You (Who says it first, how long does it take, how does it happen?)

“You—? Oh. Oh. I…I love you too.”

You’re probably going to have to say it first. Not because he doesn’t love you, but because love is still sort of a foreign concept for him.

Love is difficult for Zoro to really grasp. He’s been alone for the vast majority of his life. He really only had one friend prior to joining the Strawhat crew. Seriously, it's a foreign concept.

He knows that you make his heart beat a little faster any time he sees you, that he feels as weightless as if the entire world has been lifted from his shoulders when you kiss him—and that he would protect you with his life without question. He really doesn’t wholly understand what any of that means, it’s not something he’s ever had to deal with before, but he likes it. He likes it a lot.

When you do draw up the resolve to say it, however long it takes, it all just sort of all falls into place for him—love, that’s what this is, right, that makes perfect sense.

Once the shock of realization wears off, he’ll say it right back without any hesitation, with a smile a mile wide and a deep kiss, pulling you to him by your waist.

And he’s not going to waste a single moment to say it again after the first time, just so he can hear you say it back.

K is for Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you/be kissed?)

“Ah—goddammit, come here—”

If you’re just cuddled up together and relaxing, then it’s slow and deep, one of his arms curled around you with his hand rubbing slowly up and down your back, his other hand brushing back through your hair.

If things are a little more heated, then he’ll have you pressed against the wall, hands grasping at your waist and your hips, your lips crushed together hard enough to leave them swollen and bruised.

Feeling your lips trail down throat to his chest while you’re lying across him drives him absolutely wild, and you can expect to be flipped onto your back and have him tugging at your clothes within seconds while he kisses every inch of your skin he can reach.

How he kisses you at any given time depends a great deal on the circumstances—but regardless, he’s been starved of affection for most of his life, physical or otherwise, so he cannot ever get enough of your lips.

M is for Morning (How are your mornings spent together?)

“Oh, come on, I got up first yesterday…”

You’ll almost always wake up first; Zoro’s a deep sleeper, and any excuse to sleep in is a good one as far as he’s concerned.

You also definitely won’t be getting up before he wakes up. Even fast asleep, he’ll have his arm curled around you, and any attempt on your part to rise will just result in him pulling you tighter against him. You’re basically his teddy bear, and you must accept your fate as such.

He’s not really much of a morning person and tends to wake up slowly. Don’t try to convince him to get up before he’s ready to or he’s bound to get grumpy about it.

It’s not really like you want to get up, anyway; there’s a certain serenity to lying there with his arm tucked under your neck while he stretches and rolls his shoulders, while he turns his head to press his lips lightly to yours or brush them against your temple, while you both just lie there as a tangle of limbs and jokingly bicker over who should get up first.

Every morning is a lazy morning.

#zoro #zoro opla #one piece #opla #zoro one piece #headcanons #one piece headcanons #opla headcanons #zoro x reader #fluff

113 notes · View notes

veveisveryuncool · 6 months

Note

TOP 5 FAVORITE KIRBY CHARACTERS

AUGHAHGSBABDH....I LOVE ALL OF THEM SOSOSO MUCH <33 BUT HERE'S SOME OF THE ONES I THINK ARE VERY COOL (plus my thought process when drawing them)

6. cmonn... its kirby. kirby from kirby. he's such a wonderful fellow and so awe inspiring and cute and manifestation of love and friendship. he's a bonus but how could you not love him.

5. pitch!!!!! i love him i love him i love him. og birb with g r e e n colors and squeaky little design. plus he's super fun to use in DL3 :] to me he is a 7 year old kid who wants to be included with the big kids, and tries to act all cool and tough to impress them (but he really just loves his mama). i like drawing him with giant ahoges/head feathers, as well as giving him that long side-beak that i'm pretty sure i got from pato from pocoyo??

4. susie is amazing and wonderful and has a beautifully complex character that more people need to recognize!!! she's a capitalist and constantly has a condescending sales representative demeanor, but at heart she's just a playful girl who loves pink and ice cream and her dad that never got to have a full childhood to experience them. ALSO cyborg susie! i like to think her father let her choose one body modification each year on her birthday, but after the portal incident, she's been giving herself so many alterations that she's barely organic anymore (her voice is very AI sounding to me). uhh i like drawing her with little stars on her cuffs, and as of late i've been making her hair very fluffy (it has the same texture of a barbie doll)

3. RIBBON AAAA!!!!!!!!! i'll admit as a kid i did not like her but god she is a joy. that is a little girl! look at her! i love the idea of her being just a weird little chihuahua girl who performs seances regularly and knows the entire history of weaponry. also her being the crystal knight/guardian of ripple star headcanon!!! 🗣��🗣️ she is 100% the queen's adopted sister prove me wrong. lastly, i try to draw her as heart-shaped as possible— wings, head, hair, bow, eye highlights all vaguely resemble a heart and that is my biggest rule when i draw her. her little coat thing is inspired by @//somethinginworl 's design <33

2. bandana dee is my heart and soul and we tolerate ZERO disrespect for him here. even in canon, he's got one of the most well-defined personalities and backstories for a non-villain character! (in my heart he is the waddle dee from 64 and you can pry this from me with my cold dead hands) he's grown sososo much and i love how hal recognizes his development :]]] he may never amount to the same power as kirby, but goddammit if he doesn't have a heart and will of a true warrior 💜 i don't have a lot of idiosyncratic design choices since he's such a simple character, but his bandana ears must always be HUGE you hear me.

1. um. if you can't tell. i am very normal about adeleine. her moves in SA are super fun to use (and challenging), and oh my goshhhh the angst potential here. i am begging hal to bring her back in future games, especially with the more ancients-focused lore being incorporated recently. at heart though, i just really adore seeing her draw and paint amidst all these magical creatures in her life <3 she's slightly shy but super passionate, and is definitely kirby's big sister with her advice (especially in the storybooks!) and nicknames for him (kir-kun/kirbs in the manga). i caved long ago and gave her curtain bangs, and i really like dressing her up and experimenting with different outfits! *breathes heavily* the happy little artist kid makes me a very happy little artist kid 🫶

thanks for listening to my ramblings! in all honesty all of the kirby characters are my favorites and choosing just 5 is very hard and thought-inducing! :]

#if i could write a book about all my little interpretations and headcanons for these guys i would #you know a series is good when all the characters are your favorites<33 #i deeply apologize for the walls of text aa #i hope the doodle makes up for ittt #i have so many thiughts about them you have no idea #*asks what my favorite kirby characters are* (i will not shut up for the next 3 hours)#kirby series #kirby #ribbon kirby #bandana dee #bandana waddle dee #susie haltmann #susie kirby #adeleine kirby #pitch kirby #pitch the bird #veves ultra cool art #ask

62 notes · View notes

the-cannibal · 1 year

Note

hi!! vincent sinclair, brahms heelshire, and jason voorhees head canons with a gender neutral s/o who likes to wear corsets please? :)

Ooh interesting! I’ve never worn a corset before but they always look so cool!

Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire, and Jason Vorhees head canons for a s/o that likes to wear corsets

Gender neutral reader - they/them and you is used

Vincent Sinclair

He loves to help you pick out which corset you wear! He’s practically a pro at matching them with any outfit you have, and he’s very proud of it.

He most definitely would make so much art of you in your corsets. Wax figures, drawings, paintings, everything! One day he found an old Polaroid camera from a victims car and that started him getting into photography! He only ever takes pictures of you, and maybe Jonesy. He likes to hang up the art of you all around the house, but he keeps more… personal ones at his desk ;)

If you needed help lacing and/or tightening your corset he is happy to help!

He would love to rest his hands on your waist as you did whatever you were doing (like cooking for example)

Corsets can be kind of pricy depending on which one you want, so he totally would take any money from victims to help you save up for new corsets. This can kind of irritate Bo… “Goddammit, Vincent! I need that cash to buy some parts!” ‘But they saw a corset they really liked the other day. I’m gonna surprise them with it!’

Overall Vincent is very supportive of you wearing corsets and absolutely loves it!

Brahms Heelshire

He finds you very elegant! I think his mom probably has some stashed away in a closet from when she was younger, and if you’d like to wear them he would gladly let you!

This man is a pro at lacing and tightening corsets. Like he can do it in 60 seconds. How? You have no idea, but please call him a good boy and give him lots of praises afterwards.

He would also make sure you aren’t tightening them too tight. “It’s very important that you feel comfortable while wearing them, Y/n. They aren’t supposed to cause back pain.” “I know, Brahms. I’ve been wearing them for a while now, but thank you.” “…Kiss?” Please kiss him.

Brahms would love to put his hands around your waist as you sit in front of him and play the piano with him.

Your making him his sandwich? Hands around your waist. Your reading him his bedtime story? He is in your side hugging your waist. You are literally just standing still in the middle of a room. Guess what! He’s hugging your waist!

This man also somehow knows how to make corsets. You have no idea who taught him or where he learned it but hey you aren’t complaining!

So Brahms adores your corsets!

Jason Vorhees

This man some how saw that one picture where it’s saying wearing corsets will crush your organs and ribs and blah blah blah… yeah he freaked out.

So for a while you had Jason rapidly signing at you to please throw all of your corsets away.

And when you refused you just all of a sudden felt someone loosening your corset… and you turned around to see big Jason trying to untie it and take it off from you.

Alright time to sit down with the big hunk and explain to him that wearing corsets are totally fine. He’s still very concerned, it’s going to take some time to warming up to them.

But once he does, gosh he notices just how nice his partner looks in them. And oh my gosh they have different colored ones?! AND IN HIS FAVORITE COLOR?!

He makes sure you aren’t tying them too tight, and also that you aren’t wearing them for too long. And he won’t let you sleep in them.

He won’t say, but he would really like to pick them out with you. So the day you come up to him and ask for his opinion he is so supportive and signing off all the things that he likes about them! ‘I really love the blue, it compliments your eyes and hair very nicely! Oh but I also love the red one on you too, red is most definitely your color!’ “Jay it’s been twenty minutes.” ‘And I wanna make sure I make the right choice! Now hold the blue one up again please…’

So yeah he was a bit concerned at first but he warmed up to them and became very supportive!

#slasher x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #jason vorhees x reader #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #the boy 2016 #request #cannibals writing requests

256 notes · View notes

millerscoffee · 8 months

Note

Congrats on your 500 followers! 🎉

Can I request from the smut prompts “Louder. Let me hear you.” with Santi? 🔥

oh, nonnie. i absolutely can - and thank you!!! ♡

tucked away

706 words | santiago garcia x f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: public sex/exhibitionism, pet names/degrading names (whore, putita, sweetheart), fingering, cum eating, no use of y/n.

A/N: this is part of my 500 followers celebration running until 9/9 ♡

“Santi, here?” your eyes wide, you gasp when he pushes you against the brick of an alleyway, all the way at the end. You’d been teasing him all day: your short skirt, the way your hair brushes over your shoulders – you’re so gorgeous his tolerance runs low around you, and the very second you crouch down to pick something up off of the ground exposing the creases of your ass to him – he loses it, he’s gone.

“Here, right fucking here,” he gruffs, calloused hand takes your pliable thigh to wrap around his waist. “Been teasing me all day.” Santi’s mouth presses against yours in chaste, hands kneading your ass as one traverses to the front of you, slipping your panties off to the side – lips pulling off of your with a knowing smile when he feels the pool of arousal at your sex. “Wow, and you fucking love it. Do you love being my little whore, willing to take it anywhere I can give it to you?”

Your words are all but useless now as your chin lifts to catch his gaze, panting and nodding frantically – the shadows of people passing just at the rim of the alley. And fuck, he was so right, you wanted this with him wherever you could get it. “I love it, Santi,” you bite, breathlessly moaning when his middle and ring finger curl at your entrance – you melt when your arms drape over the slope of his inviting, but tough shoulders. And it’s rough, like he’s playing on your every moan, he works his hand in a ‘come hither’ motion until all you can do is watch and become hypnotised by it. “S-Santi–,” you whisper, doing your best not to draw attention to the pair of you.

“Oh, come on, putita, let me hear it,” thumbs over your clit as it works in unison with the thrusts of his achy wrist and you can feel the outline of Pope’s cock beg for you from the tight fabric of his jeans, the sloshing sounds of your messy cunt just below.

“It’s so good,” your pitiful moans leave your mouth, a high-pitched gasp hitching your throat when he picks up the pace. “Louder, my love. Let everyone know who gets you like this.” and his eyes, goddammit, his eyes are hooded – black with lust for you, the tops of his teeth exposed from his parted mouth and you swear you can see how wet you’re making it. How much he wants to taste you, like an animal and you’re something delicious. It puts you in a trance, your body shaking from standing up as your head presses against the wall behind you, you squeeze your leg tighter around him and it’s like clockwork, the sluttiest sounds coming from you.

“Thaaaat’s it, that’s my fucking girl – y’like that? God, you do. You like that – fuck! You’re so pathetic for it, aren’t you, sweetheart? Come on, come for me like this, let the neighbourhood know Santiago Garcia owns this sloppy pussy.”

What makes matters worse (or better) is how right he is – you love being Santi’s and how his skilled fingers reach parts of you no one else ever could. When his thumb and fingers send you to spill screams out of your mouth, your hips work in overdrive from his words, need way more than his two thick fingers and thumb, but you are so gone for him your orgasm is pulled easily. Your sticky sweetness coats his fingers, your forehead falls over top of his shoulder as he whispers praises in your ear on your comedown. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. Mierda, look at you. So good for me, baby. Here,” you whimper when you feel empty again, but he quickly places his used fingers into your mouth. You suck them clean, standing on both feet, eyes round and wet as they pour into his own.

“Just like that, is it?” the twitch of his narrow smile hits the corner of his lips, “We’re done here, come on.”

And just like that, he tugs you out of the alley into the streets that now know who you belong to.

He’d really have his way with you when you got home.

#santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia smut #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago pope garcia smut #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #triple frontier #500 followers prompt

55 notes · View notes

destinygoldenstar · 12 days

Text

The only thing I focus on is getting into the room assigned to me. I don’t care if anyone is following me. I hope no one is following me. I have to get away.

I catch my running speed with the doorknob. I try to wipe my tears with my sleeve so I can see the lock and open the door with the room key in my pocket. I open the door and charge in, slamming the door shut behind me as quickly as I opened it. I make sure to lock the door behind me so nobody can come in. None of those psychos. None of those people.

Only then I start crying all over again.

I’m already a waterfall of tears, but I don’t care. I slump on the floor with my back up against the door. I can’t stop shaking. I can’t get my hands away from my face to catch the tears. My head is filled with nothing but ugly thoughts.

I’ve been like this before. More than once. More times than healthy. But at least then, it was me being pathetic and stupid and beating myself up about it. I’d cry about how disastrous of a human being I was, but I’d get told over and over again it was false and I was overreacting.

This is real.

This is far more justified, I feel.

This is the end of my life.

It has to be, right? I already broke. I already broke down in front of everybody. I already failed. I already failed the school that teaches its students how to kill each other.

I’m going to die here. I’m going to get killed by someone else. I’m stuck here for the rest of my days, however long I have left. I’ll never go home.

I will never go home.

I’ll die instead. I don’t want to die. I’m not ready to die yet.

If I die, I’ll never…

I’ll never see them again.

My parents. They’re going to be devastated to hear their daughter has been killed. I’ll never apologize to them. I’ll never say goodbye to them.

I never hated my parents. I hated that they signed me up to this program, but I never hated them. They loved me. It’s my fault for not saying no to it.

Maybe they’ll at least get a chance to start over with my brother. I’ll never meet him. I’ll never know his name. He’ll never know me. He won’t have a sister.

And Katie…

Oh gods, Katie.

Even in my flood of tears and my weakened state, I manage to pull out the notebook from inside my jacket. I open it to the first page.

The drawings are still there. The cheesy drawings of hearts and stars. The writing ‘K + S’ is still there. The photograph is still there. The one when we were in high school at the student novel ceremony. Her blonde hair was longer back then, up in a ponytail in the picture. I had my dimmed purple hair down, and was only wearing a plain white blouse. Even back then, she was more fashionable with her gold yellow turtleneck sweater. I’m hugging her tight in the photo. My head is on her chest with a shy expression on the camera she is holding.

I want to hug her like that again. I want her to hold me. I want her to show up out of nowhere, see me crying, and hold me close. She’d shush me and stroke my hair and tell me it’ll all be okay.

I wish she was here. I wish I was back home in Clovis. I wish I was back in my room, my real room, writing away late in the night with my parents blaming me for my exhaustion at school. Then school would mentally beat me, and the people would suck. Then I would come home and see Katie so she’d hear me out and then fill me with hope.

Tears fall on the paper, making scattered wet spots.

“I promised her. I promised her.” I cry silently, my voice gritty. “I promised her I’d come home…”

My voice raises in a raspy cry as I slam the book onto the floor. “Goddammit! I didn’t even want to come here!! I didn’t even want to accept the transfer!!! Why?!?!?!”

My crying and bawling becomes worse and worse by the minute.

There’s no one here to comfort me. There’s no one here to help me.

I’m dead for sure. I can’t kill. I have nothing in me to kill. I’m frail and stupid and sensitive, and I don’t know anything about murder. With the way I freaked out and stormed out like that, I think those people are thinking about targeting me.

Murder frail, whiny, stupid Sara…

I bury my head in my knees.

This is how my fuck ups get me killed.

*Knock Knock*

The shock of the sound and the banging on the door trip me over my feet. Now off the door, I’m on my hands and feet like a crab. I look up to hear a voice.

“Sara? You in here? I’m just here to check on you cause you-”

“Go away!” I shout. I don’t remember whose voice it is, and I don’t care. I don’t want any of these crazy people with murderous thoughts coming near me.

“Huh… that’s not what people usually say when someone knocks on their door…”

What is this person talking about? They act like they never-

“Ah well, the next and probably appropriate thing to do would be to pick the lock and come in anyway!”

What?! No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no! Already?! I’m dead already?!

I said I was gonna die, but this soon?!

“Don’t!!” I scream, my heart beating hard against my chest. With my breathing hitching, I scramble through my pockets, or whatever is on the floor near me I can use to defend myself. “Don’t come in! I have a… a…”

My hand meets one of two pens in my front jacket pocket. I open one and aim it at the door. “A PEN!! And I’m not afraid to use it for stabbing!!”

A pen. I sound pathetic.

“Oh wow. She really has snapped already.”

I stop breathing for a second.

That’s one of those bunny things.

What are they doing with a student-?

“You sure you want to go i-”

“Absolutely.”

I hear a click from the lock, and the door opens. I step back, still keeping my pen out.

It’s Senri Endo. He has a massive grin on his freckled face like this is some happy greeting. Why does he always do that like this is normal?

More importantly, why are all six Monobunnies standing around him?!

“Heyo, Sara.” He greets happily. “I hope you’re not too troubled.”

Dude…

“Good. Good. Good to see you already getting in the right spirit.” He says to my silence and my tear streaked face.

Does he not see I have a pen aimed at his face?! He walks up to me and clasps his hands, smiling like it’s nothing. Am I really that bad at being intimidating?

“So, how do you like your room?” He asks. “You haven’t seen it yet, right?”

“Uh-room?” I didn’t even look. I was busy crying.

Holding KiBunny on his shoulder and petting them, he says, “Oh yes. The Monobunnies put in a lot of effort into each student's room. So we hope you appreciate the space.”

MidoriBunny, standing by Senri’s feet, explains, “Each student's dorm room has the essentials. Bed. Wardrobe. Desk. Floor. Walls. A lock on their door. A private bathroom with a security camera so we can see. But we also included varying colors, decorations, and crannies to suit the student living in it. So you won’t see the other’s rooms look exactly the same.”

I spaced out when they started talking. “...wha-”

“Aw come on, I love a little room arrangement! Especially since we’re staying here for the rest of our lives as classmates!” Senri pulls my arm down. I guess the pen wasn’t threatening in the slightest. How can he be so cheerful about all of this?! “The Monobunnies and I came all this way, you want us to show you?”

“No-”

“Great!” He grabs me by the shoulders and turns my body around. I have to admit I’m too scared to fight against him.

The walls are white. The carpet is a similar purple color to my jacket. That much I know. AkaBunny and MomoBunny have their paws on lavish purple curtains.

“We know purple doesn’t match your hair, but we really wanted to express your love for the color.” MomoBunny says.

My favorite color is cerulean blue. My hair isn’t even that purple… well it is still purple, but it’s still a more dull shade of it.

“And you’ll never guess what’s behind these!” AkaBunny says.

“Window plates?” I quietly guess.

They open them up.

“Window plates!”

Of course. At least there’s curtains so I don’t have to stare at the window plates.

There’s five of these curtain things. The second one to the right has a white roll top desk with a purple swivel chair and a small trash can.

AoBunny is on the chair, depressingly saying, “This is the place where you can write down all your melancholy thoughts. On paper, or on the desk itself, we really don’t care…”

There’s stacks of paper on the desk. Lined and blank sheets. There’s a pencil sharpener and a cup of pencils as well.

AoBunny turns the chair around to hand me a sheet of paper of sorts. Senri takes it and hands it to me. “It’s a letter from the Monobunnies.”

I read the first sentence to myself.

‘We Monobunnies are dedicated to helping students enjoy their stay here-’

I shove the paper in my pocket. No one's gonna read that shit.

KiBunny and AkaBunny are jumping on the bed on the wall to my right. The pillows are a lavender color, and the quilt is white with butterfly patterns of several colors on it. There’s a nightstand with a drawer and a lamp.

MidoriBunny is trying to sit on the edge of the bed, but the jumping is making them wobble on the mattress. “This is what humans call a ‘bed’. From my understanding, you can do a lot of things with it. Sleep on it, jump on it, read on it, do a lot of clean pure and responsible things with it-”

AkaBunny jumps on the bed hard enough that MidoriBunny falls off. Senri catches them in his arms. MidoriBunny groans, “I think I prefer sleeping on dirt.”

“Alright, get off.” Senri politely demands.

“Awwwww…” The Monobunnies whine like little kids.

MonoBunny, getting up on the beds end, explains, “The water is shut off during nighttime. The dorm room bathrooms have locks on them, but the other bathrooms around the campus do not. Please keep that in mind. The flat screen TV on the wall will display any announcements at any time they appear, the channel will automatically switch to that when they happen. This goes for morning and nighttime announcements, class announcements, body discovery announcements, and so on. Otherwise that’s for your entertainment. Don’t break it. That camera on the ceiling, the one over the bed, that’s so we can keep an eye on you twenty four seven, so don’t ever think nobody is watching you. We’re always watching.”

They said that last part in a deep creepy snarl. My breath hitches at it.

“Also, don’t break it. The camera is equipped with a gun, so we can gun rule breakers down any time.” They say that part enthusiastically.

Great. I’m going to sleep with a gun hanging over my head.

“Room keys are designed to be resistant to lock picking, so you don’t have to worry about people picking the locks and coming into your room unannounced!”

I glance at Senri. “Right…”

“Huh? Oh…” Senri notices. “Oh don’t worry, we all checked the students' abilities. The only one who can is me.”

Why is Senri doing it okay but no one else? My head is littered with more questions than answers.

“They’re also hard to replicate.” MonoBunny says, then jumps up to my face to give a snarl, “DON’T. LOSE. YOUR KEY.”

I’m tense and shaking. “P-please don’t get that close…”

They jump down on the floor, obeying.

“Aaaaaaaaannnnndd that’s the basics!” Senri claps with a smile.

I think I feel worse than I did before.

“H-hey Senri-”

“Oh! And you have got to see the best part!” Senri interrupts me. I guess I get no say in any of this. “I know you’re a writer, your talent and all, so we put together a little nook for you to write to your heart's content!”

He grabs my arm to turn my body again, facing the left side of the room.

Indeed, there is a nook. The space is claimed by a white circular carpet with the same pattern as the bed quilt. There’s an end table in the center with a purple lounge chair, and surrounding it is a white book shelf that spirals around half the carpet. There’s already books in it, as well as some fake plants, drawings, and other things. On the side of the bookcase is a mini stairwell to climb to the top of the shelf, where there’s a little space with pillows and blankets. MomoBunny, on the top of the shelf, turns on a little lamp up there to reveal a ceiling lighting of a fake galaxy. They keep clicking on the lamp, and the lighting switches to other environments, like a rainstorm, a crowd of bustling people, the seaside, and a field of whistling birds. It even plays the sound effects.

Is it… beautiful? Why do I like this?!

“Well?” Senri gets in my view with a smile. He’s jumping in place. “You love it?”

“U-uh…” I can’t talk.

The bunnies already start digging into the books and drawings on the shelves before Senri adds, “And the best part? We managed to collect all your private projects from home!”

That gets me to scream an audible, “WHAT?!?!?”

They stole my-?!

“Okay, well, not exactly your private projects from home…” Senri dials back. “We just replicated them exactly into some blank notebooks we had laying around. So while you don’t have your stuff from home exactly, we made exact copies.”

“THAT’S NOT ANY LESS CREEPY!!” I scream. I’m running to the area to try and snatch the books from Monobunnies. They’re digging in them like greedy monsters. This wasn’t how I expected to start crying again, but here we are. “Hey! Stop!! These are private!!”

“Don’t worry, we already read through all of these.” MidoriBunny says casually.

“We’re also judging you silently about them, but we don’t have to say it out loud.” AoBunny adds.

“I didn’t give you permission to-!” I try to snatch a book from AkaBunny, but they jump out of the way. I let out an upset cry.

“The amount of unfinished projects here is just sad…” AoBunny is also crying. “I loved ‘The House of Labels’. When are you making the fifth book?”

“Oh, oh my…” AkaBunny found one. “I wonder if your parents know about this fetish of yours-”

“PUT THAT ONE DOWN!!” I beg, my waterfall of tears coming back. “Please stop!”

“Alright, you heard the lady, put them back, we already read them!” MonoBunny commands, slapping.

The other bunnies obey instantly. Maybe that’s why MonoBunny is the leader among them.

MomoBunny is the only one who doesn’t listen. They find another one, flipping through it curiously. “Ooooooohhh, who’s this girl? She’s such a pretty one. Someone got a crush??”

I whip my head around. Is that my diary of Katie?!

“We’re a thing!” I cry.

MonoBunny, out of nowhere, jumps up to the shelf and kicks MomoBunny in the back with their hind leg. “What did I say?! Back off of the lady’s love life!”

“Kyaaa!” MomoBunny crashes on the floor from the kick. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

They’re aggressive bunnies as well. Now it gives me even more of a headache.

It makes me lose it. “JUST FUCKING STOP IT!!!”

They do from my outburst. I don’t care. I’m worn out from crying. I’m angry. I’m embarrassed. I’m confused as shit.

“I DIDN’T INVITE ANYONE IN HERE! I DIDN’T ASK FOR A ROOM TOUR! I DIDN’T ASK ANYONE TO LOOK AT MY WORKS! IS NOBODY GOING TO EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW CAUSE I AM CONFUSED AS ANY PIECE OF SHIT WOULD IN THIS SITUATION!!”

“Whoa!” Senri puts his hands up. “Whoa whoa whoa, calm down. This isn’t meant to be as confusing as you think it is.”

“ROBOT BUNNIES.”

That spawns the first ounce of emotion from him that isn’t happiness, confusion. “You don’t have those in the real world? Huh… that is news to me.”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!” I direct my outburst towards him. “You’re a student! You’re in the same situation as I am! KILL or BE KILLED! How can you be so CALM about all of this?! To the point where you’re casually hanging out with the bunnies with a smile on your face?!?! HUH?!?! ANSWER ME, SENRI!!”

This guy confuses me so much. I thought he was a little strange at first, but he seemed at least friendly and excitable. But I would assume he’d react with dread on the killing game news like a rational person would. Instead he keeps his attitude. Why?!

Just like that, the confusion is gone and returns to a smile. He says, “Sara, there’s a reason why I wanted to talk to you privately. I think you should sit down.”

Without warning and without waiting for an answer, the bunnies tackle me down on the lounge chair. I crash into it, and only then do they get off me. Senri sits on the end table hugging one of his legs, staring down on me.

I don’t know what to expect, but my heart is racing.

“First off, we need to set a very important rule about this.” Senri is serious now. “Consider it another regulation that applies to you: Everything that we’re gonna talk about here is for your ears only. You cannot tell anybody about what I’m going to tell you. Got it?”

“And…” I’m scared. “And if I do?”

Sneri points at the camera gun.

I’m definitely stuck in place now.

“Okay…”

“You asked me about my behavior regarding the killing game, why I’m not scared or shocked or anything. There’s a reason for that…”

He takes off the eyepatch on his face, revealing his other eye.

I expected a scar, or a glass eye, or something normal.

No. It’s a red eye, similar to the bunnies eyes. The eyelashes are made out of blue crystal.

“...I’m the one running the game.”

I can’t breathe.

Did I hear that right?

Senri is…

“I’m responsible for all of this!” He says with a smile, like it’s something to be proud of. “Me and my Monobunnies took over the program, kidnapped all these Ultimates, and organized the killing game. Now we’re running the entire program as the mastermind behind the cameras! Pretty great, right?”

He’s not a bubbly excitable type like I thought… He’s a sociopath.

“To be honest, it’s kind of disappointing you’re also an Ultimate, if you weren’t I certainly wouldn’t have included you in the mix. But killing those evil Ultimates is an all or nothing deal.”

Evil Ultimates?

“No one else in the world was gonna do it, so I took the heroic mantle. No need to thank me for it.” He says as he picks up and pets MonoBunny, who looks pleased at the gesture.

He thinks this is a good thing?!

I hug myself, trying to manage my shaking. Nothing is working. I’m breathing hard again. Everything is blurry and I still have my glasses on.

This guy is the one running this killing game. He casually admitted it to me.

“Y-you’re the one who-who kidnapped me…”

“Correctamundo.” He gives me a smile and a finger gun. “I do apologize that it had to be so confusing, but I couldn’t get you in any other way.”

That’s the least of my problems right now.

What is going on?

Why is this happening?

What does he want with me?

Is he trying to kill me?

Is this-

“Sara.” He gently touches my shoulder to try to get me to snap out of it. “I’m all for good panic attacks, but I do need you to focus.”

I whimper and grip my heart. A cozy lounge chair can never comfort me.

I hear MonoBunny say to Senri, "Master, with all due respect... her? Really? I get she's the writer, but out of all the students with the brain power, the strength, and, well, the basic sanity and confidence, you choose that one.”

“Just… why…?” I ask softly. “Why would you tell me all of this…?”

Not that I would be able to, but for all he knows, I could use this information against him.

So why risk it?

“The rules.” He says. “The two survivors.”

I look up in confusion. “Wh-what about it?”

“The students kill each other, you catch the killers and they get the chain, keep going till there’s only two left.” Senri gives the basic summary. “It’s a matter of who those two are.”

Does he mean…?

“Obviously one of those slots would be myself.” Senri says proudly. “But there’s also the little factor of another survivor. One that would be a dream come true for me to have as that person…”

He points at me.

“But, I can’t guarantee that.” He says once I get the message. He puts MonoBunny down and spins around the table and adjusts his body so he’s hugging both his legs and his side is facing me. “Not if you’re in the same field as the others here. I have the protection of the Monobunnies to keep me from getting killed, but you don’t. Anyone can get the jump on you at any time and you’re dead.”

I kinda get that.

“So what can we do???” He asks himself, giving a fake gasp of an idea. “We could partner up and be masterminds together!”

“Partner up…? With you…?” I stutter. “Y-you mean like a traitor?”

“Traitor?” He hums. “I was gonna call it ‘Self preservation partnership and friendship with your fellow mastermind’, but sure.”

“W-what do I-?”

“You would help me influence the other students here to kill each other.” Senri offers. “With the classes we train them to be killers, but that might not convince them. I would say I would motivate them through the Monobunnies, but honestly, you know more about people than I do. You know what makes them crack.”

No I don’t. I’m one of the most closed off people I know. If that’s the standard, then he must know literally nothing about people.

“But why me?” I ask softly. “Out of everyone, why me?”

Surely he’d pick a more competent traitor than me. The girl in the dragon mask is already scary. The scientist girl would be a smart option. The environment guy is an actual psychic. Hell, I don’t know much about my next door neighbor, but I’m sure he’d be a better option than me. Senri has options. Why pick me?

“You wrote ‘Despair’, right?”

And there’s the answer.

Not that book…

My whole body fills with dread from the implication.

The mastermind of the killing game is a fan of my book. The book I wrote about privileged people slaughter.

“I have been wanting to meet you for so long!” He expresses. “When we finally met, my whole world opened up! And I mean that literally! So really, for being my inspiration, I owe you… the world! I seriously owe you everything!”

I can’t talk. I feel my face going pale.

He pats my shoulder. He clearly sees this differently than I do. "We would be such a great duo! The author and the audience collaborating in the genocide of the privileged to save the world and overthrow all the evils of hope with the power of love, friendship, and despair!!"

He gasps for air. He’s excited about the idea. “I’m just saying, it’s epic! It would be the world!”

This is it. This is my karma. I thought I had my karma, but no. This is where it starts.

He gets serious, making it clear, "Course, you can say no, I can't force you to join.”

“But?” There’s always a but.

“But if you do say no, then you’re on the same playing field as everyone else. And I can’t guarantee you won’t be killed. And you still can’t tell anyone about this, then I’d have to gun you.”

Simple enough.

I sit there and think about this.

If I join Senri and become a traitor amongst the cast, he can protect me from dying in the game. If I don’t take this deal, I’m on my own risking my life like everyone else.

Of course I’d die if I risked it.

Can I even trust him? He’s running the campus. If I say no, he could gun me down anyway. He could be lying.

“Think about it.” Senri adds. “You work for me as the traitor of the class, and me and my Monobunnies protect you long enough for us to be the two survivors of Class B-3.”

That’s it?

“And one more thing!” He makes another part in the deal. “Accept this, and no harm will ever come to the people you love.”

I let out a muted gasp.

He took over the school. He can go after whoever he wants.

My eyes glance at the notebook on the floor, the one of that picture of me and Katie.

Senri notices and asks, “You care about your girlfriend's well being as much as yours, don't you?”

Of course I do.

Katie. My family.

If Senri doesn’t go after them, I can go home after the killing game. I can go back to my normal life like none of this ever happened.

Will he hurt them if I don’t take the deal? Or worse?

He concludes it by saying, “Choice is yours."

He offers me his hand. “Will you be the traitor?”

I hesitate.

I take the deal, and I’m safe. I won’t have to kill. I won’t be killed. I’ll be safe until the game is over and then I can leave. I’ll be protecting all my loved ones. I can go home, returning to my normal life.

I don’t take the deal, and I’m risking my life in a killing game I’ll never win. I’ll be delaying my own death at the hands of another student here.

I want to go home. I want to survive. This is my one shot.

“You’ll protect me.” I want it clear.

“Yep.”

“You won’t hurt my family.”

“Nope.”

“You won’t kill them.”

“No-well, yes, I won’t.”

I take a deep breath.

I take his hand.

Something hot fuels my hand once the shake is done. I let go to see something red glowing on my palm. Then it vanishes in my veins.

What did he do to me?

“You took the deal.” He states. “There’s no turning back.”

I don’t feel any different. It still scares me.

“YES!!!” He lets out all his enthusiasm and jumps on me, wrapping his arms around me. “She said yes, everyone!! We got her!!”

“Yay!!!!” The Monobunnies cheer. Well, except for the main MonoBunny, who has a neutral expression.

“Aw, I’m so excited!!” He’s not hiding that emotion. “I have a BFF! A friend! And it’s the writer of ‘Despair’! This is…. AAAHH I’m sorry!! This is everything to me!!!”

I’m stuck muffled in his hug.

“I-I never had a ‘friend’ before!” He expresses. I wonder why. “This is so much to me! We’re going to run the killing game together! We’re going to be BFF’s behind the cameras doing everything together! This is gonna be awesome!!”

He parts from the hug, which I did not return, and he takes out his E-Handbook. He keeps one arm around me to position me for a selfie.

“Here, here, say ‘Despair BFF’s’!’” He grins and snaps the picture.

I don’t know what my face looks like in that picture, but I guarantee it is not the same happy expression that he has.

I’m a traitor now…

What am I getting myself into?

~~~~~~~

#danganronpa #danganronpa fangan #danganronpa fangame #preview #fanganronpa #Danganronpa The Privileged Traitor #casting call #voice acting #animation #artists on tumblr

5 notes · View notes