#yandere alex summers

[satrryeys4eva]

These crushes are different from the others.....

#bran stark #Damon Salvatore #norman bates motel #alex summers #five hargreeves #ben florian #Miguel Diaz #Tony stark #thor odinson #yandere gotham bruce

[coryosbaby]

Sweet Serial Killer *ੈ✩‧ Young! Gf! Nick Goode x reader (1)

“𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓻

𝓓𝓸 𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱,

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱! “

Summary: Murders are happening around Camp Nightwing, and you’ll do anything for your best friend Nick.

Warning: mentions of murder & violence, dubious consent, yandere! Nick, possessiveness, obsessive behavior, mentions of pedophilia (NOT by nick), pictures without consent, toxic relationship asf, god complex, male masturbation, oral (m & f recieving), p n v, breeding kink, dumbification, size kink, daddy kink, missionary, riding, the reader is very dependable on Nick, loss of virginity, creampie, marking, squirting, dom! Nick, sub! Reader

Nick isn’t an inherently violent person.

But when he meets you in the summer of ‘76, all of that is thrown out the window.

You’re a camper. And no, you aren’t a child; you’re eighteen years old. Nick is twenty, beginning as his first year as a counselor. At Camp Nightwing, it’s taboo for a counselor and camper to become romantically involved. But Jesus, Nick just can’t help but be so in love when he looks at you. Your cabin is right next to his, and he sees your sweet ass everyday, watches you strut around with him on his off days and have fun. You’ve both grown incredibly close. And if anyone messes with you, they have to deal with him.

And waves of intense rage aren’t new to him. But right now, he has still never been so incredibly angry.

He watches as a camper, some guy named Alex and around your age, torments you; pulls your hair, calls you names, makes fun of your makeup. And it makes his blood boil. You’re so precious, so much of an angel. No one needs to treat you this way. He approaches, quickly breaking it up. On the outside, his demeanor is calm, is safe.

To you, Nick will always be safe.

Alex scurries away quickly when Nick starts murmuring threats through clenched teeth. Tears are running down your face, and Nick brings his arm around your shoulder and guides you to his empty cabin. You bury his face in his neck when you’re both finally alone on his bed. He pulls you away and begins to stroke your tearful face soothingly.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “I know. It’s okay, honey. That fuckin’ asshole..” he looks at you with slight concern for a moment. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You sniffle, and shake your head. “He p-pulled my hair, a little bit. But I’m fine.”

If Nick had any previous guilt about his plans for tonight, they’re all gone now.

“Okay..” he smiles, a small laugh leaving his lips as he runs his hands over the outer corners of your eyes.

“You ruined your makeup.”

You frown, worried. “Do I look bad?”

“What? No, not at all.” How could you ever think you look bad? “You look.. you look really pretty, y/n.”

“Oh.” your face flushes, and you smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies. And then,after that, you lay down on his bed and he reads you your favorite book while you curl up on his left side. It’s one of the things he does to help you feel better, to make you feel even more protected and safe with him.

And then later that night, the first murder at Camp Nightwing takes place.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The next day the talk is all around camp. Alex, the boy that had harassed you the day before, is dead.

You’re in shock. No one has ever died at the camp before; it’s full of teenagers and kids doing arts and crafts, after all. In a situation like this, they should close down the camp. But the death itself was confirmed to be an accident; he had somehow slipped off of a cliff beside the lake that campers weren’t allowed to approach, and had hit his head on the rocky floor below. A counselor had found him that day, and there were rumors that it was incredibly brutal; his head was completely smashed to pieces.

Some people, however, believe it wasn’t an accident. There were rumors that a few campers saw someone in a black robe and a weird mask that resembled that of a ghost. But those were just rumors, for now.

You shove the thought that Alex deserved what he got down into your gut, and decide to feel bad for him.

“I just don’t get it,” you explain to Nick the next day, in the empty art room. “Why would you even go over there? It’s like, the most dangerous spot.”

Nick shrugs as you refer to Alex, as he knots a new bracelet for the third time that day.

“Dunno,” he replies. “Like I said, he was an idiot.”

His tone and the use of the word ‘was’ makes bile rise in your throat, but you change the topic to the task at hand.

If anyone knows you, you’re just a little… dumb. So, Nick helps you with your crafts in your art activities everyday, always teaches you new things because you’re interested and don’t know how. It’s not just in this field, where you depend on him; he helps you with practically everything, even feeds you from time to time. He knows how to take care of you, how to keep you satisfied and happy.

He watches as you struggle to tie a knot in the bracelet that you’re creating, watches as you slam it down onto the table and make a sound of frustration. He chuckles, amused.

“Having fun?”

“Fuck off, Nick.” You snap . You immediately begin to apologize, not meaning to have sounded so rude.

“Im so sorry!”

“Don’t apologize, y/n. It’s okay, I promise.”

He hates when you feel as if you’ve said something wrong around him. You could never anger him.

“It’s just…” you rub your eyes, careful not to destroy your glittery makeup. “I can’t.. I can’t make the bracelet. It’s not working.”

“That’s okay,” Nick assures. “I can teach you. It’s okay, here-“

His fingers move to grab the strings from you, maneuvering the plastic stand it’s attached to so he can gain better access. He looks down at the instructions.

“Yeah, this knot is complicated,” it’s not, but you don’t need to know that. “All you’re doing wrong is not looping it around. If you just..”

He smiles as he grabs your cherry red nails into his larger set of hands. He brings them down and shows you the proper way to tie the bracelet, and you squeal in victory when you’re finally done. It’s a little jagged along a section, but it isn’t too bad.

“See! I knew you could do it. You’re such a quick learner.” Nick praises. You flush.

“Thank you.”

He watches as you tie the ends. And then, you’re nervously looking towards him.

“I want you to have it.. i-if that’s okay!”

Nick beams, happily snatching the bracelet from your hands and slipping it onto his wrist.

“Thank you, angel. I love it.”

He picks up one of the bracelets he made and insists that you wear it too. He ties the ends for you, and slips it around your wrist. You smile. And then, with ease, he brings his lips down to your wrist and places a kiss to it. The nervous lip bite you give him makes his cock harden in his pants, but he chooses to ignore it for now. You smell so sweet, the perfume on your wrists making his eyes practically roll back. It’s so you, and he can’t get enough of it.

“Do you want to go back to my cabin?”

The words make you stutter, knowing that the cabin is empty and that everyone is away at another camping activity at the lake. But alas, you utter a quick ‘yes’. When you get inside he guides you to sit down at the head of his bed so he can read to you again. But once he gets through a couple paragraphs of The Great Gatsby, you’re already leaning onto his shoulder sleepily.

“Tired?” He asks.

“Mhm.”

“C’mere.”

He grabs one of your arms and slings it over his chest. You sigh happily, shoving your face into his shirt as he moves down to lay flat on the bed.

“Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner.”

“Okay, Nicky. Thank you.”

Oh, how precious.

Your soft snores fill the room as you sleep. Time ticks by, but Nick can’t seem to keep still as much as he wants to. So, gently, he removes himself from underneath you and pulls his blanket over your shoulders as you turn over in your sleep. He watches as your tits seem to practically spill out of your tank top. His breath catches in his throat. It’s not that noticeable because it’s on your lower side, but your nipple has seemed to slip out of the fabric.

The thing he does next is probably incredibly wrong. But who can blame him, with you looking like that?

His hands go down to palm the bulge in his pants. He breathes heavily, lip getting caught in his teeth as he watches your slow moving breath and beautiful face. He brings his hands into his pants and begins to stroke himself with vigor.

He knows it’s incredibly risky. You’re his best friend, and if he gets caught doing this you might not be anymore. But precum spills over his fist and he thrusts into his own palm mercilessly. He starts to imagine scenarios with you in them: taking your tits into his mouth, sucking on those pert little nipples that he loves to see peeking through your shirt. Fucking that tight little pussy he knows you have, while you’re on all fours and your ass is bouncing back against his abs. And then, lastly, watching your little cunt get stretched beyond its boundaries as he impales you, your virgin blood coating his cock and leaving your creamy spend on him. This makes him keen, and then he’s stuffing his fist into his mouth as he cums all over the inside of his briefs. You begin to stir, not quite waking up, but it makes Nick’s mouth water even more at the thought of you catching him. You don’t wake up, however. You’re always such a deep sleeper.

Nick sighs, moving into the bathroom to wash off his hands and then change into a new pair of underwear.

And then, when he’s next to his dress, he catches sight of his camera.

It’s a Polaroid camera, a dark brown that he keeps with him whenever he wants to take picture of the camp’s scenery.

But maybe it can be used for other sights.

He remembers to turn the flash off, and then he snaps a picture of your sleeping form. And then, another. And another. And another. All at different angles, some far away, some so close that it’s a surprise that you don’t hear the click of the device and wake up. When he’s done he gathers up all of the pictures that have been printed and shoves them into his drawer full of shirts, next to another set of pictures. Ones that consist of a boy in water, with his head missing.

He checks on the clock on the wall. It’s dinner time, now.

He goes over and lightly shakes you. It takes a few minutes of this before your eyes finally crack open.

“C’mon, sweets, you gotta wake up,” he murmurs. “It’s time for dinner.”

You blink, wiping the sleep away from your eyes and smearing your makeup in the process again. But when you get up and look in the mirror, you choose not to acknowledge it.

You don’t even notice the anxious look Nick gives you when you ask for some of his clothes and reach into his t-shirt drawer. He’s so thankful that he hid the photos in the very back, because you don’t find them.

He makes a mental note to move them to a place where no one would think to look.

 ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The next day Tommy Slater teaches you archery.

You’ve see the boy around, not really ever talking, but he’s sweet, with nice hair and a pretty smile. He holds your arms in the right position as he helps you pull back the strings of the bow. When you pull it back, it’s the first time ever that you hit the target. You pull him into a hug, and his hands go down to your waist as he asks if he can buy you a cherry coke from the vending machines.

Nick watches the whole thing with displeasure when you say yes.

No one really notices, but Nick just always seems to be around you, even though there’s a whole other side of camp to be taught. It’s a surprise, really, that the boy can keep his job. If it wasn’t for the extra class he teaches everyday and his father being the sheriff, he’d probably be fired.

Nick really hasn’t had that much of a problem with Tommy before. He’s a nice guy, and they get along well whenever they work together. Hell, Tommy was even his bunkmate for a while before he decided to switch and room with his brother, Will.

But he’s talking to you. And he’s being a little too nice, too touchy to see you as a regular camper or friend.

And Nick can’t have that, can he?

So a week later, after you had started to grow close with the boy, Tommy Slater is found with a noose around his neck. A suicide, of course. It’s incredibly unfortunate for you; you cry about it, not leaving your cabin all day over the death of your new friend when you find out the news.

Of course, Nick is there to comfort you. He doesn’t leave your side, and stays with you for the entirety of the day while you sleep on top of his shirtless, warm body.

He’s such a good friend.

You sigh as you roll yourself out of your bed. You’re exhausted, mentally. Nick had begged you to come to dinner with him, but to no avail after many minutes of struggling. You figure right about now that the best thing to do is your makeup. Something that sounds incredibly stupid, but it helps you relieve a lot of stress. You bring yourself back over to your bed with your makeup bag and begin to apply a full face.

You jump, almost smearing your eyeliner, when Nick opens the door. Although you shouldn’t get excited at a time like this, you smile when you see an ice cream cone in one of his hands.

“Finally getting up?” He teases. You nod.

“I guess so. No use getting hung up, right? We..” you’re trying to seem positive, but the image of Tommy’s body hanging from the ceiling brings bile to your throat. You swallow it down as you apply a layer of blush and grab the ice cream cone from Nick. “Me and Tommy weren’t even that close.”

Nick shrugs, sitting down beside you and resting his head on your shoulder to watch you apply your mascara.

“He’s in a better place now, y/n.” The boy assures.

You nod in agreement, but you’re still a bit upset. You shake the thoughts out of your head and lick at the ice cream cone. Nick watches some it drip down your chin, and he imagines what it would be like to stuff your mouth full.

“So,” He starts. His eyes never leave your mouth. “Are you going on the camping trip tonight?”

Every Saturday, campers go deeper into the woods and camp out. You know Nick enjoys it, but the thought of sleeping in a tent with no air conditioner tonight does not sound like fun.

“Probably not.” You reply.

“That’s okay.” Nick assures. He can tell by the look on your face that you feel bad for ditching him. “On second thought, how about I stay here with you tonight? I know you don’t like to be in the dark alone.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not scared of the dark, I’m scared of what’s in the dark! But also, won’t you get in trouble?”

“Whatever you say, sweetness.” Nick replies. “But I’m staying. I’ll just say I’m sick. ”

“That’s…good. I want you here.” And it’s true, as you utter the words. Nick smiles, and watches as you get up to throw away the ice cream cone (one of your weird quirks that Nick has picked up is that you only like the ice cream itself, and not the cone). When you bend down to drop it into the trash can, your shorts ride up and the soft globes of your ass are exposed. Nick exhales sharply.

You hear him, and turn around to look at him in concern. “Are you okay?”

Nick coughs, eyes averting from you as his cheeks glaze over into a dusty pink. “Yeah! It’s just a little stuffy in here, that’s all.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Do you want to go to your cabin instead? You have a better air conditioner, anyway.” And then your eyes light up. “And you have a radio! We can listen to music tonight!”

Nick chuckles at your excitement. He knows you enjoy music. “Yeah, honey.”

“Yay!”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

It’s not long before almost everyone in camp is away, and you and Nick are alone. Although the trip is optional, very few people decide to stay behind. Will had left, his eyes lingering on you a bit too long as he tells Nick to ‘have fun’. Nick’s eyes had narrowed at his tone, and he had put a possessive grip on you as he guided you to his radio so he could teach you how to use it.

And that night, Nick introduces you to weed.

It’s not something you’re opposed to, you’ve just never got around to it. And when Nick pulls out a small bag of the skunk smelling drug, you’re happy to get high with him.

You giggle as Nick runs his fingers over your legs in a teasing manner. He knows your ticklish behind your knees, and of course he isn’t going to ignore the chance of getting to touch you. His radio plays ‘Fear The Reaper’ in a blaring tone, and the both of your eyes are red rimmed and watery. You move away from his hands and off to bed to explore the things in his room, dazed.

And then you catch sight of his camera.

You pick it up, and feel the plastic device with your fingertips.

“I’ve never seen you with this,” you say. “Is it new?”

Nick lifts his body up off of the bed to look at you.

“No, I’ve had it for a while.” He replies.

“Oh.” and then, your hands begin to flimsily play with the buttons.

Nick grins. “Do you want me to take pictures of you?”

The question catches you off guard, but the look on his face, begging, can’t make you say no.

“If you want.”

“That’s great,” Nick pauses, hesitant. “Can you get on the bed for me?”

“Yes sir.”

You don’t mean to say it, really, but you just want to follow his directions. You think he’s going to be freaked out, but all he does is give you a sweet smile.

“Good girl.”

Your face flushes, and your twiddle your fingers as you begin to climb onto the bed. You move your hair so it rests behind your shoulders, and smile. Nick snaps it, the perfect view of you on your knees for him. You move to another position, sideways, and tilt your head back.

So cute, Nick thinks. And all mine.

By the third or fourth, you’re comfortable enough to not be shy.

“Is this good?” You ask. You’re leaning forward now, on your knees once again. Nick can see your cleavage at this angle, and he thinks you’re the most sexiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Perfect.” And then, another pause before he speaks. “You’re so beautiful.”

You blanch, as if that’s the first time he’s ever said it. You look up at him with a look he can’t quite place.

“Do you really think so?”

“I think you’re perfect.”

Dazed and Confused by Led Zepplin is playing on the radio now. The tension in the room grows intensely, in this moment, as Nick utters the words. It’s as if it’s never been experienced before. It has, many times, but usually there was someone or something to interrupt that tension.

So now, all that Nick can think to do is throw the camera onto the bed, move over to you, lean down, and press his lips to yours.

It’s probably a dumb idea, but if it goes the opposite of the way Nick wants then he can just blame it on the mary jane in his system.

But you kiss back. The boy suspects you’ve never been kissed before, because your lips move awkwardly against his. It’s endearing to him, and he moves to press himself closer to you. You moan against him when he begins to climb on top of you. He pulls away, his thighs caging your hips down. He grabs your hands and moves them above your head.

“You’ve never done this before , have you?”

You look away shyly, shaking your head as you do so to signal the word ‘no’. He grabs your face with his strong hands and guides you too gaze at him again.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, y/n. Yes.. or no?”

Your lip gets caught in between your teeth as he looks down at you hungrily.

“No.” You utter softly.

He tuts, bring his hand down to your hip and rubbing the soft skin there.

“So no one’s ever touched you here? Hm?”

You shake your head.

“Poor baby.” His hand moves down further. He’s ghosting his fingers over the crotch of your shorts. You squirm, a small squeak leaving your mouth when he presses on your clit through the fabric. “What about here, baby? Anyone ever played with this little clit before?”

“N-Nick, c’mon-“

“Who? Are you lying to me? Has someone touched you here?” His tone is demanding, now, angry. You look up at him with wide eyes. He’s always been so gentle with you, and his attitude now shock you.

“No..” and then, softly, “no sir. I promise.”

He calms, a small smirk beginning to play on his lips. He rubs, gentle and slow, on your clit. You mewl, hands going up to his hair for leverage as he teases you.

“Such good manners. Being such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you. You whine in protest, beginning to grab his hand and put it back where it was, but he pushes your grip away. He chuckles.

“No, no. You’re going to do something for me first.”

Your face goes red, when he grabs your hand and presses it against his girth.

“You feel that, baby?” He’s taunting, watching as your mouth opens on instinct and your soft wet tongue lolls out. “Feel what you did?”

“Yes. Yes, daddy, I-“

The word that leaves your mouth isn’t intentional, but when it does it has Nick groaning, thrusting his hips up into your hand.

“God, that’s it. You want me to be your daddy, baby? Wanna be my little girl?”

You nod, eagerly, and you begin to move to unbuckle his jeans. He makes a noise of disapproval, though.

“No. Stay right here.”

And then he’s moving off the bed and to the foot of it, beginning to unbuckle his belt. He beckons you over, but stops you when you begin to get off the bed.

“No,” His hand goes down into his pants, and he breathes shakily.

“Crawl.”

Your pussy is practically drenched at this point. A small moan sounds in the back of your throat, and you get on your hands and knees. The look Nick gives you as you move towards him is so dark that you aren’t sure it’s even him anymore. But fuck, he looks so handsome, so beautiful. You can’t help but do what he says.

You’ll do anything for him.

He grabs you by your shoulders and pulls you up on your knees at the edge of the bed. His shirt has ridden up, exposing a sliver of his tanned and toned skin.

“What do you want me to do now, daddy?” The words you’re saying sound so unlike yourself, but it’s like something different has taken over you. All you can think or feel is NickNickNickNickNick. Over and over, your pussy throbbing and spilling wet juices all over the inside of your panties.

“Take your shirt off, sweetheart.”

The demand is one you follow instantly, and when you slip the shirt over your head your nipples are puffy and swollen. He grins, moving down to flick one of your nipples.

“These are so pretty. We should get them pierced, don’t you think?”

The thought of needles going through your tits make you wince. Nick laughs.

“I was just joking, angel.”

“We have to have those nice and ready for our baby, don’t we?”

Your eyes widen, and he laughs again, as if pregnancy is some kind of game.

“Joking, again. God, you’re so gullible, you know that?”

You really don’t think you’d mind carrying his baby, but you don’t mention that right now. Instead, you bring your hands to the bulge in his pants. He groans in surprise, and looks down at you.

“You little minx. Get to work, then. Since you want to be so impatient.”

You hesitate, not really knowing what to do.

“Can you teach me, sir?”

He presses your mouth to his clothed cock, and you gasp at the sudden movement. You drool all over the fabric of his jeans, the confines of the zipper making his incredibly large cock press against the denim.

“Gotta taste it first, don’t you?” He teases. He yanks you away from his dick and pulls your head back so you’ll look up at him.

“Give me a kiss.”

You do, reaching up desperately to kiss him on his soft, sweet lips. He strokes your face, gentle unlike the past few minutes.

“Do you feel safe with me?”

You nod, and he nods his head in understanding at the confirmation.

He begins to unzip his fly. And then, you watch as he pulls out his thick length. You gawk at how pretty and large he is, his tip shining with precum and his balls drawn up tight.

“Do you trust me?”

His voice is rougher now. He strokes his cock, and you ache for it to feel the deep canal of your throat.

“Yes, daddy. You’re the only person in the world I’ll ever trust.”

“Good. You only need me.”

And then he’s rubbing the tip over your lips, and you’re eagerly suckling the soft skin and licking the precum off. He tastes so good, so salty and bitter but so perfectly divine. He growls low in his throat, holding back as much as he can so he doesn’t destroy your perfect little mouth.

“Yeah, just like that. Didn’t even have to tell you where to put that slutty mouth. You think about this a lot, don’t you?”

You nod, as much as you can with your mouth full.

“Run your tongue along the vein.” He directs, watching as you pull off and ask him what to do next. “You see, right there?”

You follow his directions perfectly, following the trail and then moving to kitten lick underneath his head. His eyes roll back, and he shallowly thrusts into your throat. You become desperate, then, and before he realizes what’s happening your downing his whole aching prick in one singular stroke.

“Oh, fuck, you bitch!” He’s loud, and his resolve breaks. He grabs your head with both of his hands and begins to fuck your throat with vigor. You choke, your eyes watering, but you don’t want him to let up. Looking up at him through watery lashes, you see that his had is tilted back and his mouth is open in shock and pleasure.

“I can feel the back of your goddamn throat, Jesus fuck..”

He slows, just a bit, when he sees you struggling to breathe.

“Remember to breathe through your nose, sweetness.”

His advice helps you, and soon you’re relaxed as he uses your throat. Your hands grip his thighs, and on a particularly deep thrust your nose hits the curly black hair at his base. It’s amazing, how much you can take.

Not that Nick has been with many girls, but he’s been with a few. And all of them could hardly take his cock inside their cunt, much less their throat. Nick giggles at the irony, then, sadistically. Of course you can take it. You’re made for him. And he’s your god, a life force that you’re devoted to, that you can’t ever escape.

“Yeah, you’re a pro at this,” Nick says roughly. “ My good little cocksucker.”

That sets you off, and your fingers begin to go down and rub your clit. It doesn’t take long before Nick is pulling you off and pushing you back down on the bed. He grabs you by your thighs and begins to unbuttons your shorts aggressively. When he gets down to your underwear he’s pulling them off with a quickness and shoving them into his back pocket.

You really should be shy right now, but you aren’t. It’s just that way with Nick. You can do anything, show him anything, and you’ll still feel like the most free person to ever exist. He spreads your legs wide, and he doesn’t hesitate to go down and get a taste of you.

He licks a stripe up the expanse of your drenched pussy, makes sure to add a little bit of tongue when he gets to your clit. He thumbs the swollen button, plays with it like it’s a toy. Your back arches, his touch setting flames off on your skin and inside of you.

“Nicky, please..”

Your voice is raw from getting so harshly throat fucked, your eyes droopy and already fucked out from all the foreplay. He says nothing, instead choosing to gather up some of the precum from his cock and use two now lubed fingers to shove inside of you. Your hips soar off the mattress, the sudden stretch burning intensely, but not as much as you would’ve originally thought. You’re so wet that you’re really up for anything, at this point. You flush with embarrassment when you hear your wetness gushing around Nick’s fingers. But he looks pleased, intensely so, and bends down to press a little kiss to your clit.

“Aww, look at that,” he coos. “You’re so wet, aren’t you? Did daddy make you this wet?”

“Yesyesyesyes-“ you practically scream when he rubs your inner walls a certain way, and it makes your legs shake and makes tears stream down your cheeks. “please keep doing that, daddy. Oh my God!

You can feel your orgasm approaching, and it’s embarrassing that you’re cumming this soon. But you’re a virgin, after all. You can’t help it. And so, with a sharp intake of breath and a moan, you cum all over Nick’s fingers. He watches as your juices coat his entire hand and shirt as your legs start to convulse in pleasure. He smiles, satisfied. You just squirted all over him.

“There you go.. just like that. Good girl. Give me all of that, baby.”

When you come down it’s like you’re wiped of energy. Nick notices. His hand goes up to stroke your face.

“You have to give me one more, okay? Just one.”

You shake your head, eyes going closed, but he slaps your cheek lightly to keep you awake.

“Still need fuck you, honey. I want you to be awake when I do it. Want you to remember.”

You bite your lip, hesitant, but then you nod. He smiles, and your heart flutters as you look down at him in between your legs.

“That’s my girl.”

He adjusts your thighs, pulling your spent body towards him. His cock nudges against your entrance. It’s different from what you’ve just experienced, much more intimate and warm. So he guides himself into you, gently. It hurts, and you let out a noise of displeasure. You start to cry again, but out of pain.

“Daddy- c-can’t, ‘s too much..”

“I know you can take it, sweet girl. Don’t you want to make daddy proud?”

You hiccup, tears flowing freely down your cheeks, and you whisper a small, “yes sir.”

He pushes into you for what seems like forever, and when you finally feel his pelvis pressing against your clit you jump from the stimulation. It causes you to clench down on him, and you cry out at the feeling of him losing control and thrusting into your open canal. He groans, lifting himself up with his hands to keep himself still.

“Don’t do that baby, ‘s gonna hurt you. Fuck, you’re so tiny. My cock is splitting you in two.”

Yeah, you wanted to say, like I warned you it would.

But you don’t say that, and soon his cock just feels like a lot of pressure. So when you tell Nick to move, he tries his hardest to be slow. He’s shaking, the fact of being in control of himself a new phenomenon. But when he drags himself out, slow, and then pushes himself back in, you begin to feel different. He hits that special spot again, just right, and your hips move back on him at their own accord.

“Daddy.. please. Fuck me! want it hard…”

The words spill out of your mouth quickly, your brain going haywire. Nick’s hands become bruising in their grip, and he shoves your hands over your head again and begins to pound you vigorously. Your wetness leaves a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and you look absolutely gorgeous, letting him use you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful little girl.. love having this pussy fucked, don’t you? Making daddy so proud..”

You moan loudly, his praises making more wetness drip out of you.

“Love you, daddy, love you so much!”

Nick’s hips stutter at that, and although it should be a very large milestone to cross, it feels perfectly natural, perfectly true to say, and it makes his head spin. His perfect little girl, worshipping him and his cock. You’re a dream come true.

“Holy fuck.. I love you too, sweetheart.” Your heart aches, so deeply. He loves you. Nick, the boy you’ve been completely devoted to and have worshipped the entire summer, loves you.

You can feel his thrusts speeding up, his hands bruising on your skin. ‘M gonna cum, shit-“

He twitches, flooding your sticky walls with his cum. Your hips shake, your pussy milking him dry.

“Love your cum, sir, feels s’good.” You slur. The fact that you’ve gotten riled up and haven’t came again is in the very back of your mind. Nick’s cock, his body, his devoted time and attention to you, is enough to satiate your needs. When he pulls out of you he makes sure to watch his cum drip out of your needy hole, and then rubs your clit in gentle strokes.

“just give me one more, baby. Cum for daddy one more time.”

And who are you to resist? Shaking, your brain turns to mush. Your tummy tightens and then you’re spilling again, watching as Nick looks down at you with adoration.

When you slow, his hands move up to swipe some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. You smile bashfully, watching as he lays down beside you and beckons you over to him once more. It’s peaceful, resting now in the darkness of his room. The radio is still playing, soft just as before. And when you sleep, you dream of sweet nothings.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

And then two days later, you’re being harassed by the camp’s janitor.

His name is Lloyd, and he’s older, much more so. He’s noticed you around, he says. He wants to get to know you more.

You’re uncomfortable by his offer. He’s a grown man, for christ’s sakes! And not an attractive one, at that, so why would you even attempt such a thing with him?

Of course, Nick isn’t too far behind when Lloyd starts spewing harsh words when you reject him. He pulls you behind him protectively, and begins suggesting that he call his father and tell on him. Lloyd instantly backs off, but his narrowed eyes never leave yours as he walks away.

Later that night, there’s a camp bonfire. You smile as you conversate with Nick while a bag of marshmallows between the two of you. You shove one into your mouth as you discuss Carry by Stephen King, and he agrees that it’s one of the best. Your head rests on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around you. Although campers and counselors technically can’t be together, no one around really cares at the moment; they’re all too busy with their own friends to notice. You grab Nick’s hand and suggest that he take you to get more snacks from the cafeteria. He trails behind you, watching your ass bounce in the tiny skirt you’re wearing. It isn’t long before you’re buying a coke and Nick is using every excuse in the book to guide you behind the deserted building and up against the wall.

His lips press gently into your neck in a sloppy, wet kiss. Your coke is forgotten, the soft drink’s bottle sitting on the concrete beside the both of you. You fall into Nick more when he bites down softly on the spot below your ear; he’s only fucked you once, but he knows your body like the back of his hand.

You sigh, your hand grabbing his and discreetly guiding it to that warm spot in between your legs. He huffs out a laugh, watches your face contort into carnal pleasure when he rubs your clit softly.

“Needy, baby?”

“Want you..” you whine, hands gripping his shirt. “Fuck me here. Wan’ everyone to see…”

“Jesus,” he moans, your hand going down to palm his aching shaft. “Only fucked you once and I’ve already turned you into a little cockslut, huh?”

You nod as his thumb brushes over your lips in a playful manner. You bring the digit into your mouth, making sure that it hits the very back of your throat. Nick groans at that, bringing his thumb out and crashing his lips into yours. You taste like cherry coke, and from the past few days of the constant making out you guys have been doing, Nick can infer that this is just how you taste. It’s so perfect, so incredibly sweet and precious. He grabs your arms and turns you around so he can press your body against the wall behind you. His hands undo his belt, and then he’s lifting up your skirt to see your pretty cunt.

“No panties, sweetheart?”

“Just wanted to be ready for you, daddy.”

The way you say it, so giving and dedicated, makes Nick’s cock jump. When he pulls it out he presses it flush against your bare mound and slaps your lips playfully with his tip. You squirm, little pussy red and swollen.

“Love this little pussy so much, baby,” Nick coos. He rubs your clit with his length, and it makes you tremble. “Need you to beg for daddy. C’mon, be a good girl.”

You don’t even hesitate, your voice shaky and desperate. “Please! Need you so bad, daddy. Please fuck me!”

He doesn’t hesitate to shove himself inside you, then. And although the stretch still hurts, it feels better than last time and it makes you mewl as he begins to harshly pound into you. He yanks you back by your hair, your body pressed flush against him, and he uses his other hand to yank your top down and expose your tits to the night air. They scrape against the brick wall, and it the sting makes you clench around him.

“Good little bitch.. such a tight little pussy…”

And then his tone becomes darker, and he begins to put a bruising grip on your hip.

“Tommy could’ve never fucked you like this, y’know.”

The sentence catches you off guard, your body slowing its movements. But only slightly; because as fucked up as it is, Nick still turns you on. You stutter, your eyes rolling back when Nick’s cock grazes your insides perfectly.

“W-What?”

And although it seems like Nick should be ashamed or feel caught saying the thing he just said, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers reach down to rub you clit, as he chuckles darkly.

“You heard me. That little fucker. You were going to leave me for him, weren’t you?”

Your eyes furrow in confusion, tears beginning to form at the stress of his interrogation and his harsh thrusts. Nick slaps your ass harshly, watching it jiggle and move against him more.

“Answer me!”

“No! No, I only ever wanted you! I- I didn’t-“

“Good.”

His fingers slap your pussy, and then he’s rubbing your clit in harsh circles again. You practically scream, your wetness gushing down his dick.

“Now fucking cum for me.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You ignore Nick as he walks you back to his cabin.

You don’t know what else to do. How else are you supposed to react when your best friend slash lover decides to talk about a dead friend in bed?

It should upset you more than it does.

You’re freaked out, a little bit, of course. But the guilt, that pit in your stomach, isn’t as prominent as you thought it would be. And when Nick pulls you into a hug and softly asks, “stay, please?”, you can’t resist him. Will is out, you assume. Probably with a random girl or still at the bonfire.

None of that matters, right now. You turn your head when Nick tries to kiss you. He frowns, hands coming up to your hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why’d you say that stuff earlier, Nick?” You ask quietly. Your nervously bounce on the balls of your feet. “That was really mean.”

He sighs, looking regretful as he takes your face into his hands.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I shouldn’t of said that. I got carried away..“

His lips land on yours, gentle. You’re extremely tired, your limbs weak and your pussy aching from Nick’s harsh fucking. You don’t know how to feel, but the softness of Nick’s lips makes your eyes flutter shut.

“I won’t do it again,” he murmurs, as he pulls away. His thumb goes to wipe away stray mascara that had smeared on your face. “I promise. Just stay with me?”

You know it isn’t right. You know that what he said was messed up, was something you should leave him for. But you don’t. You just nod your head obediently, and join him on his bed. And when you’re trying to sleep and his length rubs up against your thigh, he asks if you want him. You say yes, and It’s true.

And when he brings himself up to your lips, you lick his cock clean, and show him your devotion.

@itsthatonegirl

#nick goode #Nick goode x reader #Nick goode x fem! reader #nick goode smut #Ghostface! Nick goode #fear streat scream au #scream #fear street #fear street 1994 #fear street 1978 #fear street 1666 #fear street trilogy #fear street fanfiction #young! Nick goode #dom! Nick goode #sub! reader

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 2

chapter 1

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; . . i am not the boy you knew and you are dead to me you watch someone you know grow into static company - boy (alex g)

2.

your chest ached.

with changing seasons, countless birthdays, the broadening of your consciousness brought an expansion of your body. growing in places that made you walk with a slouch and had your hands tugging at the front of your shirt. the shorts you'd wear during summer turned into your shame whenever your parent(s) would ask you to go and change for something more. . 'appropriate'.

ridiculous, you thought. how could they be inappropriate? they were your favorite pair.

or they used to be.

a man old enough to be your father leered at you while you were out riding your bike. you took them off as soon as you got home. you're sure they sit at the bottom of your closet to this day.

your hands got bigger. your fingers stretched. you got taller. people often told you you looked like your parent(s). you didn't see it.

despite the passage of time, mark was still there.

your parent(s) had long received the grayson's blessing to allow him refuge in your home: playdates whenever he wasn't preoccupied with baseball and important school work. but as the pages of the calendars turned, your parent(s) worried your little playdates had gone on for too long.

however, much like the dilemma your teachers had, no one had the heart - nor the energy - to separate you two. the two of you were entering the age where interest in romance grew and your parent(s) worried. it was cute, at first. when a 6 year old mark would follow you home and your parent(s) would have to contact the graysons, lest they turn the world upside down searching for their one son. or the time in which he'd brought ring-pops and claimed you'd gotten married.

but the fact of the matter was that mark had changed, too. you didn't see it at first. didn't even imagine it could've ever been that way.

mark was a growing boy.

there was evidence of that etched in markings on the wall next to your bedroom door: comparisons of height done in pencil. one with your initial. the other in his. you'd always be surprised when he kept surpassing you inch by inch. and you'd make a face whenever you'd - yet again - failed to keep up. and after your parent(s) wearily watched the two of you engage in hand size comparisons, the door to your bedroom was to remain open at all times.

but the truth of the matter was that there was simply no need.

mark was hardly ever in your bedroom those days. and much to your disappointment - well, why were you? it's not like you didn't see it coming - he'd gotten friends of his own. friends who grew with him in height and mannerism. who'd say big, nasty words and who's eyes would follow girls down the hallway. who he'd sit and rough house with until teachers had enough and sat him next to the most 'well behaved student' - you - despite his huffing. friends who wouldn't spare you a glance even though you were walking with mark. who'd talk directly to mark as if you weren't even there and steal him away with excuses of baseball practice. or simply because they could.

and mark would go.

and once, you felt your face going hot when one of them scoffed, "sorry, are we stealing you away from your girlfriend?"

mark returned the laugh - you didn't know if he knew you heard or not. you also didn't wanna know - and said, "ew."

laughter.

and if you were anyone else you would've thought about throwing his own baseball bat against his back. but all it did was make you sad. it made you angry. it made you embarrassed. and you didn't know why.

mark was a growing boy.

you were growing, too.

but you wanted to stay little for as long as you could. and the dread that came with buying newer clothes each passing year left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

you obsessed over magazines. the pretty girls on social media who's hair looked perfect. who's teeth were whiter. who's skin looked painted on. you're sure

the others in school shared your sentiment.

soon, you had to preoccupy yourself with shaving your arms or your legs or drinking large amounts of water in order to feel something in your tummy.

but mark. .mark never had to worry about that. he was a growing boy. he didn't have to worry about clothes or skincare. he didn't have to watch what he ate.

he was a growing boy.

who cared if he ate half a dozen donuts in one sitting? he was a growing boy.

who cared if all he did was run a few steps in baseball and eat like a chipmunk all the while remaining the same? he was a growing boy!

who cared if he could burp and sneeze loudly, sit like he'd bought the planet, and go outside at night?

.. certainly not you.

but sometimes you wish -

"it's so fucking hot." mark mumbled, hanging off your bed, voice muffled around his - seventh? - donut.

you stared down at the bowl of cotton candy grapes on your lap.

your teeth ached with need.

- . . you were a. . it was easier.

"yeah." you said, squeezing one of the grapes between your index and thumb until the flesh oozed out, shiny and sticky. "i know."

"you almost done?" he asked, turning onto his stomach and wiping the icing off his hands onto your bedding.

the homework sheets in front of you were nearly done. but you'd need a lot more time to finish homework for the both of you. you wonder if your parents knew that mark coming over to do homework just consisted of him distracting you while you did the work.

and maybe they did.

they were always so forgiving to people who weren't you.

in their eyes, you'd ask for advice if he was really taking advantage of you. and none of that whiny complaining of him being too rough, either.

you should've known what you were getting yourself into when you befriended a boy.

boys will be boys. right?

then, he doesn't know his own strength when you were mad at him when one of his playful shoves sent you staggering in front of his friends.

or, he was trying to be funny! lighten up. when he'd grabbed you and groped at your fleshy sides - also in front of his friends.

and most importantly, the two of you had been best friends for so long, there was no reason why something as innocent as you doing a couple of favors for him could cause such turmoil.

you should be nicer to him. i mean, how many other friends do you have?

and that's what the excuses were about.

your parent(s) felt indebted to him. after all, they didn't have the energy to deal with the tides of your mental state: the complex emotions, highs and lows, that only seemed to become that much more apparent as you entered your teenage years.

you imagined how they must’ve thought of you.

it couldn't be that much different than how everyone else did.

mark is so patient, so good at babysitting poor, socially inept you.

but as long as they didn't have to do the heavy lifting, they figured letting mark keep you was their safest bet. it did you good. mark didn't seem burdened. if anything, he seemed happy. he enjoyed taking care of you. and you knew he did. in fact, when he wasn't around his friends. . he was the mark you grew up with.

kind of.

he was still into the same stuff: comics and superhero movies. as long as it was just the two of you. . it wasn't that bad. he cared for you. and he'd show he wasn't all gone when he'd warned you about boys - who, ironically, seemed to perfectly describe his friend group. 

don't date them, he'd say, and it reminded you of when you'd gotten that ring pop and he told you you were his.

his protective demeanor wasn't a problem when he had the strength of a six year old. but mark wasn't six anymore. the jealous fits weren't as endearing. he was rowdier. moodier. and he'd grown into his body. . meaning he had the mass to back his words up.

but you weren't cowed by him. not much, anyway.

which caused you to push away the pile of homework and snap, "why don't you do your own fucking homework? it's too much."

you knew the most mark would do was sulk and pout. that's all he ever did when you'd be preoccupied with other things. . or grouped with the opposite sex. but there'd be moments in which you'd caught the flicker of darkness in his eyes whenever the two of you had a disagreement.

when you said no.

"i'm tired after baseball." he said, slowly, like it's something you were supposed to know.

"yeah, well, i'm tired, too!" you huffed.

"yeah? of doing what?"

"of thinking for the both of us."

"you calling me dumb?"

"you said it." you muttered under your breath, doodling onto the page to distract you from the annoyance bubbling inside you.

you didn't notice him getting up. he'd have a habit of sneaking up on you. maybe he was just quiet. or you were just too absent minded to notice. but either way, before you knew it, you were lifted off the floor from around your waist.

you don't even get a chance to react before he pinned you to your bed. the shock causing your face to grow hot before you begin to thrash beneath him, spitting out insults and trying to hit him in any soft spot you could.

but he was faster, stronger.

repeating, "i'm stupid?" while fighting you off like it was nothing.

he'd always had better stamina, and soon, you're tired and pinned beneath him.

and then he. .

just froze above you.

mark's world had gone still. he could sense everything. the air shifted around him and all his attention landed on you. he could feel weak throbbing beneath the palm of his hands as he held your wrists in a two handed grip above your head.

he could smell your perfumed skin. hear the blood soaring through your veins. the heat from your face warmed him like a furnace. and the realization slammed into him like a freight train.

he'd gotten his powers.

you'd brought them out of him.

“um. can I get up now?” you'd whispered from beneath him, flustered. your eyes narrowed towards your door, the one your parent(s) demanded you to keep open at all times.

mark blinked.

then, shuffled off of you with burning cheeks.

you watched him hastily sling his school bag over his shoulder and waddle out of the room. confused, you called after him - you had a test to study for for christ's sake! - but he didn't stop.

you scrambled after him.

but like years before, you couldn't keep up.

he was gone before you even made it out into the hallway.

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible x reader #yandere mark grayson #yandere mark grayson x reader #WEE WOO WEE WOO #alex g brainrot

[blueparadis]

꒰ WHEN WE COLLIDED ꒱ ⋮ RAN HITANI.

───❪ SYNOPSIS ❫ ⋮ A decision always changes the course of one's life but mainly it affects just one person, the one who takes the decision. However, an accident doesn't, it affects more than one person. Ran seems to believe he can have both in his favor if he plays his cards at the right time.

───❪ TAGS ❫ ⋮ MDNI, 18+ & M RATING.

(sub!)ran haitani x (switch!)fem!reader, one sided pinning, manipulation, death via accident ( MCD ), fruity!ran agenda, yandere themes, mention of implied cheating, domestic violence ( not by ran ), bad marriage,slow burn, eventual smut.

───❪ PLAYLIST ❫ ⋮ stay by stephan, too close by sir chloe, million dollar man by lana del rey, i am the dog by sir chloe, me and my husband by mitski, movement by hozier, don't you know by james young, do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, stuck on a puzzle alex turner, cherry waves by deftones, the witch by Rosenfeld & khemis.

part one. ┊summary: The monotony in the life of Ran Haitani has a flicker of excitement. It turns up for a second and then goes out. But, for a hungry animal to denounce the prey, even if it is a slice is nothing but a mockery of the ways of nature. word count —2,5k┊

The tiny fancy bell hanging just above the entrance of the restaurant seems to be swinging more than usual tonight. The sound echoes through the long quiet corridor that takes a left turn towards a diverging compound full of people, gossip, sophisticated drinks, and food. Ran takes a glance as the glass door opens and then retracts to his phone again. The door closer does its job as the footsteps of the customer steadily make it toward one of the two-seater tables. Even with all the hubbub, Ran could perfectly hear the sound of boots, the greetings, the laughs, the food orders — the only mixture of sounds that does not seem to irritate him, and it should not, certainly for any restaurant owner like him. One should be happy if none of the chairs go empty for a long while. Ran is, but it has now become more of a dull luxury than a happy Friday evening that seemed to be well-spent. There is a certain monotony in everything, even at the oddest of surreality, like a speck of ink over a silky dress. Harmless but annoying once it is spotted. Ran knows that. He is more aware than anyone who is present here to spend a lively evening than other treacherous ones; just to be scooped out of this monotonous life, even if it is just for a few hours.

There is an elderly couple sitting by the giant glass window on a table of two. Next to them sits a family of eight, two young couples and the parents, perhaps. A toddler has lost her way while roaming in between the cubicles of the diner, while her mother is worriedly running behind her. Ran smiles at that, thinking adults often fail to keep up with children, even their own. There are people everywhere he sets his eyes, some are eating, some are busy talking, and some are waiting all by themselves, some are meeting for the first hello while some are meeting for the last goodbye. 

All these remind him of himself, in bits and pieces, that he abandoned long ago in his sprouting youth when his parents died. As per the local news, it was an accident and made it to the headlines the next day. Ran still remembers how he let Rindou sleep on his bed in the dorm room while he was awake the whole night thinking about why he felt such a weight on his shoulders. They were immediately sent home; to be taken care of since such a merciless strike of tragedy tainted their fates. But of course, he remembers nothing about it now, nothing too vivid to be haunted by it and also, nothing too positively significant to look forward to making a family. He remembers how he used to come to this very building holding his father’s hand during every summer break while Rindou would stay at home. It was not a restaurant back then. He remembers how his mother always asked the maids to handle Rindou. He remembers how his father sent Rindou and him to boarding school just to enjoy his sparkling youth with their mother. Nubile hearts are far too young to tend to their brand-new hearts except for each other. 

A year later tragedy befell. At such a young age, one could barely understand what was happening let alone feel it. But Ran remembers it all. It is like a set of scenes flashing at the back of his mind whenever he catches a glimpse of familial activities. Sometimes he feels guilty about not grieving for them enough but then again, there was not much time, he spent with his Oka-sama and Otou-sama, whenever he looked back on the days of his childhood. Before Rindou, he had two years; two years of holding his dad’s hand whenever he was off to work, and roaming inside the giant mansion in the name of exploring while he was slowly eaten away by loneliness, agony, and vexation until Rindou came into his life. 

Ran was not alone, not anymore. He could barely wait for Rindou to walk all by himself. He would spend hours sitting by his crib and playing with Rindou’s toys. And, when Rindou learned to walk, Ran had so many things to share, so many hide-outs, so many discoveries, so much to catch up on. He loves his brother immensely but a tiny part of him was always envious of him. Well, it had nothing to do with the affection and attention Rindou used to get from Oka-sama and Otou-sama but those two years. . . those two years of wandering inside the mansion, seeing things that he was not supposed to see, hearing things that he was not supposed to hear, not for a boy of his age, never left him. The howling silence followed him since then. 

Even now he hates giant empty spaces, especially checking out new penthouses or apartments in other lively parts of Roppongi; that is solely handled by Rindou along with practicing in his law firm. Ran loves having a room full of people yet does not understand the process of starting a family, courting someone, falling in love, or to put it simply being too fond of them over others, marrying them, taking vows, and so on. It never ends. It is too demanding and risky for someone who never had a family in the first place. It makes his skin crawl, and stomach turn so much that whenever he looks in the mirror he sees nothing but an empty can waiting to be crushed and discarded. But everything fades when he enters a room full of people, all the anguish and anger. So, he clearly does not understand this theory called ‘family’ yet every friday, Ran Haitani comes to his restaurant situated at the cream of Roppongi just to know what family is, just to know what is holding him back from having one.

Truth be told, he has now got the hang of it. Coming here, watching all these people bask in neon lights, monitor the staff sometimes, and if his mood permits he might hit the bar section to indulge himself in something less turbulent than family, responsibilities, and relationships; ‘to live a little’, as put by Rindou. But tonight he is more invested in something else entirely. He has no intention of drowning himself in desires. 

There is a couple sitting by the entrance of this giant diner. From his position, he can only see the face of the guy and the back of the girl. Even though he is seated diagonally at that table, he can barely make the crescent of her face, even the reflection of her face on the glass is blurred. Ran tilts his head and rests it on his hand: index finger at his temple and the others at his cheek creating a dip. The loose strands of his hair graze his forehead. There are people coming and going in the range of his vision but he is not moving, not his eyes, not his mind, only steady intake of breaths and exhaling deeply occasionally. From the looks of it, they seem to be on their first date. Awkward. None of them is talking. While the guy is constantly glancing at the girl every now and then, the girl seems to be busy checking the menu. The guy's face seems familiar. Maybe he could remember his name, or where he has seen him if only he could get a glance of the girl. . . although, Ran is not surprised, not in the least. He is aware of how this restaurant of his has turned into an expensive date spot over the years. Of all the restaurants he owns, he never thought that this place of all places would witness more relationships and heartbreaks than others. Since no one seemed to break the ice, Ran took the liberty of doing it by himself. 

“Waiter,” he waves his right hand. He still has not distorted his posture. “Has table number 34 ordered anything yet?” 

“No sir,” the waiter supplies. Ran still has his hooded eyes lingering over them. He flicks the first two fingers of his right hand beckoning the staff closer to him. “Tell them that they don’t need to worry about the bill. Everything is on the house.” He pauses; and clicks his tongue hearing his phone vibrate. “And—” he declines the call and then switches up his gaze again at the waiter. “Also, tell them how good they look together. Just drop some easy compliments. It’s their first date, after all.”  Ran gives his signature smile to him. 

Before the waiter could bow and take his leave Ran gets another call. This time he picks up and the first thing he says is how he is waiting for the rain to be over, since he forgot to bring an umbrella he would rather wait than book a cab. He disconnects the call and clicks his tongue again. He would have loved to see their reaction, especially hers. Be it a hazy reflection than seeing her through his lavender gaze, at least he will be able to see her smile. Another call and he leaves his seat walking towards the exit.

“Good evening ma’am. Good evening sir—” the waiter begins and Ran rampages out of the hall holding about his phone against his ear, his other hand swinging while walking, just some inches away from her seat. He takes the turn and begins to walk through the lonely corridor. He could easily turn his head, look back, and have a glance at her. But he does not. He has more pressing matters to attend to. Was it tempting? Obviously. In his line of work, he has seen a lot of men and women dress with delicate sophistication but rare is the case where he is tempted to take a second glance. But as a matter of fact, he did not even get one decent look. So, looking back and seeing her face would not count as a second glance, would it now?

“. . .so let me know when you would like to order,” The waiter switches his gaze from you to the man sitting in front of you. “Like I said, everything is on the house. Enjoy your date, Sir.” He glanced at you with an assuring smile and took his leave. It takes longer than usual for you to register what just happened. Did someone just volunteer to pay for the food thinking you came here for a blind date? With this man? You never thought someone would mistake you and your almost ex-husband to be a couple. There were no sparks, no roses. Just thorns and burns in this relationship. A laugh breaks out on your face like a plague but you bite the inner flesh of your lower lip not to show the sheer disgust on your face. Anyone could tell that it was not a happy marriage. The man who had been painstakingly present in your life for the past two years and now that you have finally made up your mind to cut ties with him, someone, someone in this crowd thought that you were set on a new beginning, ready to read a new chapter in your life with him. How fucking funny! You took a sip of water brushing aside these blood-boiling thoughts. There is no point in dwelling on the past, especially when it is bitter and bruised, not healing.

“Y/N, are you listening?” Taiju placed his palm over yours to have your eyes on him. You turn out to be stubborn. Your eyes were still stuck on the plate full of food. You have been playing with your food while he keeps talking about his business. He gave a squeeze to your palm, “You’ve been distracted since the beginning. Is something the matter? Maybe we should meet—

“We should not,” you spoke out of the blue, breaking from your trance. His face contorts, his eyebrows squeeze in and out, his lips become flat and suddenly he feels that something is stuck in his throat. It is hard to breathe. “I mean, I’m willing to give us a chance. Just this once.” A smile smothered his face in an instant while you took in another deep breath. He still has not let go of your hand. He has been meeting you once every week despite his busy schedule, despite having the world at his fingertips. He has decided to give you time when he could have easily dragged you out of your parent’s refuge and taken away your freedom. But he did not; he showed kindness. There must be a reason for that. Your husband, your almost ex-husband, does not do anything without thinking it through, without any ulterior motive. 

“I — I can’t forgive you, for what you did— even if I wanted to. Even if my heart really wants to.” Now that is a lie you have been telling yourself for a week so that you could say it to his face. You stammer— you fail to say in a steady manner because there was this one time when he was not at par with what you were saying and so, he hit you. He hit you because he was not in his senses, he hit you because he was angry at others, he hit you because alcohol was in his body; if he were in his senses he would not have thought of hurting you, not even in his worst nightmares or so he claims. It was just one time, started with a slap on your cheeks amidst a party full of guests and now you two were sitting on a restaurant chair opposite to each other— so close yet light years away from each other. But when you decided to take a break, he let you. When you would finally tell him that you had decided to walk out of this marriage would he let you do that too?

Were you being dramatic? Were you overreacting? Were you being an utter fool to lose all the wealth and status that come with being the wife of an upcoming prominent minister?  if that is the case, then so be it. You have let him spread his wings, and grow his claws so much that it ended up hurting you. No more. Before coming here you have rehearsed what to say and what not to say, still, your heart wavered when you had a chance to flee from his clutches. This was supposed to be the last day, the last meeting with him instead you promised more. Why was that? Just because a random stranger thought you two had the charm of a new couple. You have rehearsed so many times saying, ‘I want a divorce’ but now seeing his earnest eyes, his voluntary kindness; an unknown emotion kept creeping upon your shoulders. Was it fear? 

“It’s okay.” It really isn't. He beams. “Take as much time as you need. I can wait.” Liar.Liar.Liar. Married life with him was like a black blob among the whites of the wedding. And now you had to go back to him, living every day as a pitch-black nightmare. 

part two ┊summary: Ran starts to gather pieces of his puzzle even barely has any piece of it, he could see a glimpse of the final picture. He has never been taught not to play with his food when he was a child and he never did unless the food feels stale and tasteless on his tongue. word count — 2,6k┊

The moment Ran entered the bar, his eyes spotted Hanma sitting on one of the stools near the counter. Hanma sits on that spot every time he has to meet him yet expects Ran to wander around like a lost child amongst those neon lights, perhaps call and ask him, “Where exactly are you?” in a warry distraught tone just so that he can answer with, “In your heart, sweetheart.” But that is only possible if Hanma hears the same music as him. They met at college together. Ran does not really have many friends but Hanma cuts out from the rest. While Rindou was his victim of everything, Hanma was his partner in crime. he was his batchmate. During the graduation ceremony, they had to dance together due to a dare and since then, Hanma never stopped calling Ran ‘Sweetheart’ Heck, he even saved his number with a heart sign right beside: sweetheart ♥️. As for Ran, if he is in high spirits, he would definitely return the favor by calling Hanma, “Shu~” But it is a rare occasion. 

This was no such occasion. Ran tastes the gut-wrenching bitterness of the drink as he takes the seat beside Hanma. “Everything ‘kay? You look …uhm disturbed.” Ran does not answer him. His mind is stuck on that guy who was too much of a show-off for a person who agreed to go on a blind date. He tried to remember him since he was sure he had seen him somewhere. Hanma ducks his head sideways to meet his eye. Ran scoffs but with that handsome face of his, it is not pinnable. “Anything new? Or do I have to listen to some relationship bullshit?” He finally responds. 

“NAH! Not today. But there is an opening in London. We could launch a restaurant together. My agent called me this morning so I wanted to let you know.”

“And, you couldn’t have done that on the phone? Or in text or email?” The annoyance was too prominent to ignore. Hanma took the last sip of his drink and quipped, “Just missed you, sweetheart.” leaving for the dance floor. Ran takes his time playing with the drink, letting all the ice melt and the drink comes at room temperature by taking slow sips. He notices a girl staring at him. He stares back for a while. She did not budge. He turned around and raised his hand. “Give me a napkin please.” He writes a number, waves the napkin at the girl who is now getting her neck bruised by another girl, and tucks it under his empty glass eyeing the waiter. Filtering through the crowd, he walks up to the door and texts his brother. The wave of cold breeze soothes his muscles.

Expect a call soon, dear brother.

He has done this so many times to Rindou yet he falls for it, every damn time. It fazes him how Rindou is doing as a lawyer. He concludes that he must be doing good since he does not have to take care of his ass like he used to do during childhood. Not every weekend he meets Hanma. On such days when he does not meet his Shu, he goes to the bar, drinks a few strong shots, and instead of Rindou’s, he writes his number. But he never takes them to his home. Either Ran goes to their house, or it's just the bathroom of the bar or Hanma’s house. He is now walking towards the main road, scouring through his memories to pick even the littlest of that guy. There is a name at the tip of his tongue so he takes his chances by looking it up online. Bingo. He knows the guy. Taiju Shiba. He scrolls through his feed casually, locks his phone, and slips it inside his slacks, heaving a deep breath and preparing himself for the hardest part of his every single weekend. The walk from the bar back to his restaurant, that is, to his home is full of loneliness. So, he takes a different route to his home. 

There is a black cat at the back door of his restaurant. Sometimes he goes there just to feed it. Sometimes he does not. Even though he tried not to be a regular presence in its life, that stray cat has grown attached to him. After meeting Hanma on most weekends, he takes a detour. He likes the cold and silence of the night. And, just after crossing the back door of his restaurant, he is followed by that same stray cat. He could have named it but he did not want to grow attached to it. It thrills him that the cat has grown attached to him. He takes a puff of tobacco as he finally stands on the front side of his restaurant at the other end near the lamp post. He could have gone straight home from the bar without taking the detour but he does not since Ran has nothing much to do as he reaches his home. No one to see, no one to talk to. So, he takes the detour, to kill some time. 

He spots you, your blue dress peeking from under the winter wear. You were waving at the guy before he left you all alone. What an asshole! He does not get much time to see your face properly, to weigh your beauty since as soon as your almost ex-husband left in the car you stumbled upon your heels. Somehow you managed to balance yourself but the opposite side of the road started to become blurred. One blink and the man smoking on the opposite side of the road became almost invisible. The second blink and the man was walking towards you, perhaps with the intention of helping you. Was your weakness that spottable? You jerked your head roughly sideways in hopes of getting a clear view. And it did come to you: a clear view of the man who was tugging at your elbows to keep you steady. “Are you okay?” Ran asked, barely holding you. He really does not want to touch you, he really does not but with your unstable stance he was left with no other choice. You might be getting a panic attack or your blood pressure might be dropping. He does not know which it is, or which one he should take precautions for.

“Hey. Hey. Focus on me. Focus on my voice.” He repeats, unable to balance you properly. Finally, he gives up. Ran sees your mouth wide open, gasping for air and one of his arms clung by your waist while the other cups your face firmly. He quickly takes out one of the toffees from his pocket that he bought from a slum boy while walking back to his restaurant and slips it into your mouth. Your hands desperately clutch onto the collar of his trenchcoat as you feel something sweet and fruity melting at the center of your tongue. You hold on to that: his collar and that sugar rush in your bloodstream and the strong musky cologne mixed with the aroma of tobacco. Your nostrils did not fail to pick up the mint-flavored breath as he spoke. It makes your senses more awake than the candy.“Are you okay now? Can you go home al—”

Ran Haitani did not get the chance to finish his sentence since you pushed him rushing to the nearest lamp post and finally threw up. You have not had any food, not even a bite, and no wine either. It was just bile you threw up and a red colored button which must be the toffee that the stranger gave you. Right, the stranger who saved you from falling. The moment you turned your head you noticed a white handkerchief in front of your face. Your gaze shot up trying to see the face of this stranger. Hair slicked back with a side particularly bleached with purple streaks in bits, hooded attentive eyes, thin lips. When you did not take the handkerchief, busy gauging his behavior, he crouched down, coming to your level. Now you two were looking eye to eye. Your pupils flared up as the handkerchief was slowly starting to move toward your jaw. Taking the handkerchief in a snatch you stood upright, walking in the opposite direction to him. He should not have saved you, he should have let you rot at the corner of the footpath. He is such a genuinely kind person. He would get hurt if he gets involved with you. That is what happened to every man who came near you after you moved out from your husband's house. So, it is best if you just brush it off. . .

“You should eat something before going home.” Shit! He noticed. You started to walk again hoping he would not follow you or bother you, thinking ignoring might be the best option and you were right. However, his bulky voice turned up again, louder this time. “I’d like my handkerchief back, girl.” Your ears heated up as you turned around. Ran has not moved from the lamp post, not one bit. He still had his hands shoved inside his slacks with his eyes transfixed on you. The aftertaste of the vomit was still lingering at the back of your throat. All you wanted to do was to go home, hit the bed, and wallow in sadness for the grave mistake you committed today; if only this man left you alone. . . Sighing heavily you finally broke your silence. “I’m really sorry. I just had a really bad day today. And instead of thanking you for your help, here I am. Ignoring you. I’ll return your handkerchief after cleaning it. So, would it be okay if I ask for your address?” When you waved your hand out of the wool serape to get a hold of your purse, your heart stopped doing its work. You rushed towards the same restaurant again, ran through that lonely corridor, and entered the dining lounge with an abrupt swing of the glass door. Seeing your purse intact on the table, the cogs of your heart were alive again. Had it been not there, your world would have surely capsized. Your oh-so-small, little world that was devoid of any trace of him. 

As you turned on your heel, you came face to face with that man again. He walked towards you steadily and paused when you backed away. His lips went flat. “Please. Have something before you go. I'm. . . just worried about you.” You nod and look around for a seat only to find most of them being empty, just the staff doing the closing chores. Ran walked past you dragging a chair from the nearest table. “What do you have in mind?” He asks as you sit, adjusting the frills of your dress. Stunned by his display of dominance you blurt out, “But isn't it the closing hours?” Ran licks his bottom lip, holding his laugh. He thinks it would be really rude to let it out. His hand is on the back of the chair, inches away from your bare back. He could touch you, just to assure you that it's okay, it's gonna be fine but he really does not want you to know that he is the one who owns the restaurant, that he is the one who is the anonymous buyer of the meal you had with that handsome guy. You do not need to know. The less you know about him, the safer you are. 

“Oh yeah?” He looks around as if he is just another customer, not the owner. “Then, I'll go talk to them. Meanwhile, why don't you go and freshen up a bit? I'm sure they will help you.” Though unconvinced you hit the washroom. The cold water on your skin felt refreshing. Just when you were about to wipe your face with a napkin, your eyes landed on his handkerchief. R.Haitani was stitched in a cursive form. The back of the stitch was a little loose to call it professional. Either it was done by an elderly person or gifted by his mother, which might also be the reason why he asked back for it. There is no chance of this being a handiwork of young hands. You clicked your tongue to think in that direction. So, what if he has someone who could give him this? It does not change the fact that you were still an insect in the web of your husband begging for his mercy.

Ran was sitting, talking to the phone as you walked towards him. There was a glass of strawberry shake, and two chocolate cupcakes each garnished with chocolate ice cream. They looked delicious. Your flabbergasted glance fell on him. His teeth-flashing smile washed all your misery in an instant. “Eat. Eat slowly, please,” he remarked leaning into the table keeping his elbows on the table to balance his face on his palm. With enthusiasm and hunger sparkling in your eyes you enquired, “How did you even make them agree to this, Mr. Haitani?” Ah! If only she knew. . .

“Ran. Just call me Ran.” He added watching you eat. He is not at all surprised that you noticed his last name on his handkerchief. It is expected from a girl like you, from a wife of an upcoming minister, witty and curious. Whatever little free time he got after meeting Hanma at a nearby cafe, he kept thinking about why the face of the guy from his restaurant seemed so familiar. When a name popped up in his head, it was not hard to find out more about you. Just a few taps at most of his recent photos in the tagged section were only about you. He did not take any interest in other things like bio, posts, or photos that did not include you. His only interest was you, like a spotlight on a stage for a solo performer.

While your eyes were on him, his eyes were occasionally meeting yours. “I just asked what sweets they can serve at this hour. And since I paid for them in advance they seemed to agree easily. Plus, they have a lot of chores to do so . . .” He is so persuasive and involuntarily kind. Not only did he make you eat but also managed to convince the staff to work during closing hours. You finally smiled at him. “So, Ran . . . do you mind sharing your number? I would pay the bill for my meal as well as return your handkerchief.” Bingo. Just what he calculated. Even though Ran wanted to ask about your date, tell you about his anonymous help, and see your reaction, something held him back from doing so, a hope, a good deed. He did not have to since you were going to meet him soon, and this time he will be careful not to be so casual, this time he will be prepared.

“Ah. Okay.” He replies keeping up his neutral tone and being careful to hide his excitement just like tucking a child in bed. While saving his number on your phone you received a message from your husband, Taiju. “Did you reach home? It's been an hour. You should have been home. Where are you?” There is no point in lying. He is going to find out about this one way or another yet you did. You lied.

Yeah. Just freshened up. Going to bed. Your phone vibrates again. It is him, again. 

“Anything bad?” Ran asks, seeing your face go pale in an instant. 

“Nope. nothing bad.” You shoot him a smile, keeping your phone away and concentrating on the food. 

The message read: Let me know when we can meet again. . . or you can move in again. If you'd like. You can respond to him later. Right now, you need to eat so that you can go home before anyone spots you and endangers both of your lives.

part three ┊summary: Ran's heart starts to unwind, starts to overlook all the possibilities of obstacles he might face to have you. With his heart in a bind, he starts to seek ways to connect, ways to have you, see you, taste you, feel you. word count — 1,6k┊

“If you’d like.”  If you’d like. It has already been Friday and you did not reply back to your husband. Tomorrow morning, you would have to be ready by 11 o’clock in the morning to be present at the party hosted by the current minister, the current family head, Shiba Taiju’s father. You would have bailed on it, but along with numerous prominent guests from his political circle, your parents are gonna be present there too. It is for the sake of your parents that prevented you from seeking a divorce from that hypocritical bastard. With a divorce, you would surely gain your freedom but would definitely lose your parents either by death or by them disowning you. The former was more plausible than the latter. And, inviting your parents is nothing but a masking agent for the deadly chemical reaction that could happen if any of you managed to cross the boundaries set by your husband, Taiju. Moreover, your husband was making sure that you do not get a chance to bail from this party and embarrass his family in front of the press and all these prying eyes that are waiting for an opportunity to stain his reputation of a few months of service to mankind. Still, when he got busier you excused yourself by conveying that you needed to be somewhere else, a place that would soothe your nerves yet would not have his skeptical eyes on you as you leave. Perhaps, a doctor’s visit. 

The moment you reached the lower next floor you heaved a sigh of relief. Any place would be better than by your husband’s side. This floor was occupied by less number of people but they were clustered in batches, here and there. It was an art exhibition. Maybe all the wheels of fortune were not against you after all. It surely would not hurt if you spent a few minutes before going home. The doctor’s prescription can easily be obtained. With brimming tension in your mind, you walked into the hall full of paintings and sculptures. You walked around the hall looking at the paintings, trying to understand as much of them as you could get. But there were myriads of unspoken lines that touched you and you made a hollow attempt to seek comfort. 

There was a sculpture in the middle of the hall. A girl and a wolf. The wolf is laying its head on her lap while she is patting it— at least that is what it looked like. She is crying but then again she is not. The wolf seems to be sleeping but then again, it is not. The whole sculpture was of pure white with such fine ridges and grooves. The one thing that surprised you the most was that one of her legs had a chain that was tied to a pillar. Somehow it defies the laws of nature— it is the beast who needs to be chained, not the master. For it can cast his beastly shadow upon others. But, a beast is never a beast until we, the mortals or humans, label it as such. Humans have always been afraid of things they can not control and thereby ended up chaining those creatures that did not fit the shallow realm of reason. But to think a beast would empathize with humans when they were punished, chained, or banished is nothing but a mirage.

Your phone rings. . .

You let out a short-lived gasp as you fidget with your bag to find the phone. Was it him? Your husband? Scratch that; people were already starting to stare. And of course, why would they not? Only a moron would forget to keep their phone on silent before entering here. Ran almost felt bad seeing you like this, clueless and messy— like a creature being hunted, but the hope of hearing your voice seemed to overpower his thoughts; before they could bundle into something that he would regret later—like hanging up the phone and leaving without saying Hi you received the call.

“Hello,”

“Hi, this is Ran Haitani. I’m sorry to disturb you but I would— uhmm like my handkerchief back if — like maybe you can make some time — tomorrow perhaps?” Great. Just Great. He really did not ask you to meet out of the blue and that too for such a trifle reason. Truth be told, Ran just missed you. He knows he is incapable of love, or any sort of heavy emotional attachment. But it really boggled his senses when you kept lingering in his mind. He was missing you. And this blabber just proved it.

You get out of the hall away from those glares. And that was when it all began: the fireworks of emotions. There were so many colors that you could barely recognize. Not even an artist could. Not because of the blending but because of the pace. Any sane mind would be jumbled up with all the adrenalin rush through your veins. Ran Haitani was standing at the door leaning against the wall, holding his phone by his ear fidgeting with the ring on his index finger with his thumb.

“Well, this is awkward.” He turns, slipping his phone into his slacks. So did you. Awkward? More like a prayer. Ran thinks about how he can explain his situation. It is not like he was following you but silence can weave more lies than truths. He was aware of that more than anyone. “I’m just here for the —

“The handkerchief?”

“Ugh. no-no. I mean yes.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, scrunching it a little, and licks his lips. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, it's important to me.”

“How much?” You asked, seeing his face turn pale. He did not expect that. Could it have been you lost it? It is really annoying how Ran feels his blood boil for a mere piece of cloth but not for the dear ones in his life. Are they important? Sure. but then why is he so attached to the things that had not mattered to anyone else, had not mattered to you? “How much was the bill?” You prompt again.

Ran raises his eyebrow. Slightly; barely visible. Tilting his face barely trying to hold his remorse within himself for misunderstanding you. He clicks his tongue. “I told you. It’s fine. You don’t need to pay.” followed by a heart-warming smile.

“Please. Let me. It would bother me later. And I’ll meet you tomorrow — with the handkerchief. I’ll text you the address.” You insisted on going through the contact list, ready to leave this place before you cause trouble. Seeing your earnest plea, he caved in but not in the straight route that you wanted it to be.

“How about a walk in the art gallery? That would square it.” Ran exclaims as his eyes meet yours momentarily. Your eyebrows grew closer due to confusion. “The bill.” He supplied with a quirky smile pushing your cloud of confusion. It would not hurt in any manner. You did not have much to do when you go home. So, spending some time with him would not hurt, really.

Ran walked by your side as you two walked past the paintings. It did not feel familiar like you expected. You have already walked through these panels of colorful thoughts before but all seemed so unfamiliar. Perhaps it was because of Ran talking. He is quite distracting. He told you that he is here with his brother. His brother was invited as one of the chief guests. He also mentioned that he is going out of town for the next few days which is why he was in a hurry to get that damned handkerchief back. Even though you had a chance of getting caught you did not feel any danger lingering around you. Yeah, him. It is definitely him who keeps you distracted enough not to feel unsafe.

You were just about to ask him where he would be going. But Ran stopped walking, abruptly. He was now looking at a seven to eight-foot-tall acrylic knife painting. It was an erotic painting. The girl was standing, with her head arched and hands gripping the edge of some sort of table, and the guy was seated at her knees with his hands clamped around her thighs. He had a knife in his pocket. There is a door at the corner of the painting and a feeble shadow can be visible. Even with that, you could tell that shadow belonged to a girl. It is a pretty basic painting you think except for the colors used in it. You think it is the color that makes this painting so catchy. The signature was K.Hajime in a beautiful cursive style. When you turn to look at Ran, he is already looking at you with amethyst eagle eyes. “What—”

Ran sways his head forward and starts to walk again. He says he knows the artist which is why he was a little shocked to see that his friend was capable of drawing something like that. Erotism was never his niche. He said. What he did not tell you is how much the girl in the painting has a resemblance to you. How could you not see that? It is a good thing that your mind was heavy with other things to see through him. For a moment, Ran almost thought that you knew this friend of his but if he really did, Ran had greater chances of running into you. He would have liked that, perhaps. 

After you left for home, he thought of buying the painting. It would hurt him but connecting to an old friend would put a lid on the jar full of scars. It already hurts unable to fathom why he is so drawn to you, why is it that he cannot mask his true self around you? He is slipping through the cracks and maybe he cannot fix it, not anymore. He has been wanting to set free for a while now. Maybe it is time.

part four. ┊summary: There is a jinx that Ran heard when he was eight years old, from his nanny. "You lose the people with whom you share your handkerchief." Now, he is not much of a superstitious person but when he saw his favorite handkerchief in the fist of his father who was intimately clung by his mother in the newspaper picture, he started to believe; he started to experiment word count —1,1k┊

Another week. Another futile attempt to get rid of his gnawing paws off you, another day full of dread, devoid of hope and warmth. You were checking your phone every ten minutes. You neither messaged nor called Taiju; you could not— something else was occupying your mind. Maybe it would be different if he got a second chance, maybe you could have a happy married life if you could make him repent by making him wait and ticking off his patience. How long a tortoise lives till it begs for death? The sudden whiff of strong spicy cologne brought you back to reality from your reverie of thoughts. 

“I — Ran dragged his chair swiftly while his other hand went to his coat to unbutton it. He looks at you, blessing you with his signature warm smile. It is perfect— not too much, not too little. He flicks his vest coat before taking a seat. “— apologize for being late. I met someone on my way here.” He, infact, did and he did not . 

You checked your phone again. Thirty minutes left before Taiju comes. “I hope. . .” he pauses, seeing you rub your palms and drink water again. He has been watching you from the window of the building in the opposite wing. It is funny to him how you asked him to meet him in one of his restaurants. Maybe he has a connection with you, or an effect of connection or a result of an action. He does not know which it is. “I hope your health is okay now. Did you see a doctor?” He throws a question to divert your attention.

“A doctor? Ah! Yes.”  You respond but he does not seem too convinced by your answer. You slide a small paper bag that has an envelope and his handkerchief. He bites the inner flesh of his bottom lip thinking how precise and neat you are about everything. The dress you are wearing has a floral pattern with a long overcoat and a matching hat. The hat is tucked on the backrest of the chair over your long overcoat. There is not much jewelry on you except a simple gold nose pin. You look like an angel with your hair flowing down to your waist. Part of him wants to believe that you dressed up just for him, but another part knows that this is your style: minimal and elegant . And now that he is here, he knows why are you so dressed up. Why are you so anxious? It must be the other man, the one he saw on that lazy evening dining with you where he first spotted you.

“Ah. thank you for giving this back.” He chimes as he takes out the handkerchief out of the bag. “I don’t need the envelope.” He looks up at you while your eyes are set on the opposite side of the street,in the pavement where you spot your husband walking with a bunch of Chanel and Gucci shopping bags. Your throat dries as you try to speak up. “Umh. . . I would have loved to spend some time with you but I'm meeting someone. So, please excuse me.” You leave your seat but do not forget about taking the coat and the hat in such a tense, hurried, and horrid situation. Something tells him that you are accustomed to it or just very nitpicky about time or perhaps too eager to meet this man but that is clearly not the case here. You stroll out of the restaurant meeting your husband at the doorstep. 

“Woah, woah slow down babe. Where are you going?” Taiju asks, gripping your arm. You are still in the maze of guilt for walking out on Ran like that. He does not deserve such kind of rudeness, whatever the bind you are in. You gulp thinking if he has spotted you with him while crossing the street but judging his soft hold on you, his tender voice, and hopeful smile he is not aware of Ran, not yet.

“You’re early.” Your voice is barely a whisper. He smiles thinking you must be surprised but you are not. It is the fear that makes you whisper. “I think I was waiting at the wrong restaurant.” You swallow your fear feeling nauseous due to his long-lasting grip on your arms. “That’s why I was hurrying to the restaurant we were supposed to meet.” His hand caresses your face. He seems to be satisfied with your explanation. His hand slides from your face to your palm as he takes you to the supposed restaurant. 

The meeting went well. He seemed like a different person. He had no clue what was happening around him as you remained seated in front of Taiju, all dolled up and pretty. If he had, he would have gauged out Ran’s eyes. Even though your eyes were fixed on your husband, you could feel Ran’s intact stare on you. You were surprised when he walked into the same restaurant and sat diagonally to you two tables away from yours. Maybe he was meeting someone too, a friend or someone dearer than a friend but nothing really happened. He sat and enjoyed his whiskey. Whenever you sneaked glances towards him you would find him checking his tablet but as soon as your eyes were back on your husband, Ran’s amethyst eyes were back on you. You could feel it. You were sure of it. His constant attention was bugging you so much that you excused yourself for a bathroom break. Whatever happened next not only turned your life upside down but created all sorts of chain reactions in your soul: guilt, betrayal, sadness, longing, and anger. 

Guilt because of your betrayal towards yourself, lying to yourself to keep up the smile on the faces of your dear ones around you at the cost of yours.

Sadness because Ran looked at you with so much pity, with so much empathy it made you long for him, for yourself that you were trying so hard to suppress just to get along with the man you took vows with. It felt wrong in so many ways when he kept staring at you with such earnest eyes as if it would spill any moment. And if it did, it would be all because of you .

Anger because even if you craved to be saved, even if you could ask him. . .Ran is not the kind of man who likes to play the hero for a damsel in distress, let alone do it for someone who already has ties with another man. He is the type to watch, observe, and serve, to be the least mobile pawn in a board game of chess waiting to pounce on the queen when everyone has already died fighting for jewels and other silly stakes. What other choice does the queen have to survive than to surrender, to be freed from pretense? It is a pity, really.

part five. ┊ summary: It has been almost half of another month since his last encounter with you. Ran has thought of his second encounter with you way too many times that it lies heavy on his eyelids, on his fingertips, creating goosebumps on his skin. It tingles his soul. He replays that particular memory in a loop until he gets drunk on it, until he gets what he is promised. word count —0.7k┊

“I knew you would follow me here,” you stated, closing the tap, and dabbing your hands with your handkerchief. Ran stood at the common corridor that parts at the end into two washrooms. His eyes scanned you from head to toe and then toe to your head — but it got stuck on your palms, on your fingers. They looked soft and lonely. You did not know what his deal was, what he wanted to say, why he was here, and why he followed you up here. You tug on your wedding ring as he parted his lips for something to say. He didn't really look you in the eye. He never does; he just looks somewhere else in your face, always. Ran does not remember seeing a ring on your finger when he first met you. He does not remember when he met you at his restaurant this morning, not even when he met you at the art exhibition. He does not remember seeing those posts on your husband’s social media. It does not take him much to do the math. He is a clever man.

Panic attack. Regular meetings. Expensive gifts. Fear and silence. Secrets and Sympathies. A sorry attempt for reconciliation with your husband . Most men would back away from you being in his position, especially knowing what kind of man your husband is and more importantly, who he is.

You tuck your hair behind your ear giving him a proper glimpse of your ring. Yeah, that should do the trick, that should make him run away from you and he would be safe. He does not deserve the cloud of ill-fate that you carry with you. It is yours, only yours to carry.

Ran walks towards you closing the gap. You think he is going to walk past you into the washroom unable to process all of these at once. You think you have scared and hurt him enough for a stranger. His expressions are not hard to miss. Was he really hoping for something? Why is that? “what’re you doing?” he coaxed, standing close to you looking you in the eye with his hands hanging outside his pockets. There is so much sincerity in his sadness that it almost makes you cry, you want to but you do not know why you would cry for him. 

“What do you mean?” Your voice was like a prayer to him. Ran takes a few steps forward towards you but you step back. He pauses as you back away. His eyes are so full of questions. Hence, he pursues those. He keeps taking steps one after another until he has your back on the wall. 

“What are you doing to me?”He uttered, keeping his hand against your ears, on the wall. You suck in a breath and do not release it. You can not. You can not since he seems too fragile even to withstand your breath. Ran clings towards you as you keep your palm over his chest. While you remember the night you met him, he takes the liberty to lean his head towards the crook of your shoulder. You close your eyes, unable to keep up with his proximity. You hear him opening his mouth, and the ‘pop’ sound of his lips seems too loud as if he has been silent for way too long. 

“I’m doing my best to keep myself safe,” you whisper feeling his lips graze your neck or was it your imagination? You could not tell. Ran chuckles at that tickling you. You curl your head; ‘And you.’ you think. You feel him retreat since the strong spicy aroma wears off. When you open your eyes you find no one, not a single soul on the end of the corridor. You rushed into the washroom again, tears washed over your eye-banks and a prayer escaped your pitiful curved lips. 

Now he goes to his restaurant where he first met you every weekend, waiting for another chance to get a glimpse of you. “I’m doing my best to keep myself safe.” He uttered to himself scanning the next customer who walked into his restaurant. It rings in his ears. There is a promise in the way you said it.

part six. ┊ summary ~ to be updated soon.

───❪ NOTES❫ ⋮ read on ao3.

blog navigation.

dividers by @benkeibear. banner art by me. for better quality you need to view the image seperately.

This is for my beloved dawnie. @lalunanymph . ( kindly check her rules if you wish to read her works. )

Dawn baby, I have read your works when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm angry, and whenever I missed you. I have kept coming back to read your works, again and again, especially during my exam season. And one day I reaslized that you and your writing has become an integral part of my Tumblr. Not only that, it has also shaped my writing and reading experience. Needless to say dawnie baby that I admire you a lot. So, this is a little gift from me to you for creating such a brilliantly bright trajectory in my writing journey. Tokyo Revengers has always been my staple fandom. Even being a multifandom blog it is the tokyo revengers’ masterlists which is most stacked. At first I thought I should write on Kakucho for you but didn't feel confident about it so I went with Ran Haitani. This is probably the third long fic on him and second series work. I don't generally write on my favs because I don't know what to write and how to write. It is always a struggle but I hope this scratches the right parts of your brain. Take your time, read it in a one fine afternoon all of a sudden or somewhere in next million years. I'm not in rush :’))

Love you,

paradis.

#ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x you #tokrev x reader #tokrev x y/n #tokrev x you #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers angst #ran x reader #ran x you #ran x y/n #ran angst #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers fic #ran haitani #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev x you #tokyorev smut #tokyo rev smut #cw yandere #yandere ran haitani #yandere romance

[simpingforthemm]

request guidelines

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the fandoms I write for :

orange is the new black !

harry potter (next gen, marauders, golden trio)

marvel

anne with an e

the summer I turned pretty (maybe)

shadow and bone

the craft

heartstopper

cobra kai

sex education

gossip girl

emily in paris

shameless

everything now

one piece (netflix live action version bc I haven't watched the anime yet)

my life with the walter boys (isaac, alex, lee, jackie, danny, no cole)

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what I will write / not write :

I won't write smut

I won't write themes that are too dark

I won't write reader with male pronouns

I won't write yandere

I won't write any NSFW themes

I will barely or won't write character x character

I will write angst

I will write fluff

I will write polyamory (a lot probably)

I will write LGBTQ+ (obviously)

I will write character x reader

I will write reader with fem or gn pronouns

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

collages / moodboards :

If you want to request a collage / moodboard, give me the character, a colour, another person

if you want the collage to be about a ship, give me a faceclaim or another character, I will not be doing crossovers of fandoms for example harry potter and marvel so you couldn't request peter parker x harry potter but something like harry potter x neville longbottom would be possible

If you want a ship with a "new character / faceclaim", tell me more about the relationship character x new character have, maybe how they show love towards each other and ofc the name of the actor for the faceclaim

I hope this makes sense

you could also give me a scenario, like what would it be like to go to the cinema with this character, what would a date with them look likefor that, you can also give me an extra faceclaim or another character that they're doing those things with!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

headcanons / one shots :

if you request, ofc tell me what the headcanon / oneshot is about and with which character which pronouns does reader have

which trope ( angst, fluff, poly, etc. )for a oneshot I will need kind of a more detailed idea / plot

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

don't feel shy to request!!

#request rules #request guidelines

[thatonepersonwhocantwrite]

A little about me

I’m 19 and an animal lover. I mostly write comfort ficus

My rules

This is my list of Fandoms I will write for and things I WILL and WON'T write for

Things I really write

Angst

Enemies to lovers

Fluff/ comfort

Yandere ( I'm bad at it though and don't condone this behavior in real life)

Female x Female

Male x male ( again not to good at it but I try)

Male x female

Male x Gender neutral

Female x Gender neutral

Poly

Things I won't write

Age gaps over 5+ years

Pregnancy ( not good at it and it makes me uncomfortable)

Abuse

Suicide ( I will write the reader or any other character dying just not by Suicide)

Self harm ( it's triggering to me and others)

Eating disorders

NSFW

Harry potter characters I will write

Neville longbottom

Luna Lovegood

Hermione Granger

Fred weasley

George weasley

Sirius Black

Remus lupin

The great Harry Potter himself

The owl house

Luz

Amity

Willow

Gus

Hunter

Eda

King ( platonic only)

Raine ( can someone tell me if spelled their name right?)

Avatar the last Airbender (NOT the live action version but the animated version)

Aang

Toph

Suki (she's the only exception where I'll do Live or animated)

Sokka

Katara

Zuko

Haru

Ninjago

Cole

Jay

Kai

Nya

Lloyd

Zane

Starwars

Anakin

Obi-Wan

Padme

Luke Skywalker

Leia skywalker

Percy jackson/ Heroes of olympus

Charles beckendorf

Silena beauregard

Annabeth chase (book version only)

Percy jackson ( book version only)

Will solace

Tyson ( platonic only)

Jason grace

Piper mclean

Thalia grace

Leo valdez

Nico di angelo ( again platonic only unless you're a guy then I will do romantic since he's gay)

Bianca di angelo

Hazel Levesque

Frank Zhang

Legend of Korra

Bolin

Korra

Asami

Avatar Wan ( my personal favorite)

Marvel

Steve Rogers

Sam wilson

Peter parker ( Toby, Andrew and Tom versions)

Vision (platonic only)

Wanda

T'Challa

Shuri

Pietro

Natasha

Jean Grey

Scott summers

Dc

Barry allen

Cisco Ramon

Kara Danvers

Alex Danvers

Clark kent

Lois lane

Oliver queen

Top gun

Nick bradshaw

Naven Hollywood idk if I spelled his first name right

Leonard Wolfe Wolfman

Blood of Zeus

Heron

Electra

Alexia

Hermes

Zeus

Apollo

Ares

Hera

I think that's all the fandoms I can think of for now please send in request

#tumblr trash #x reader #yn #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #weasley family #percy jackson #aang gang #George weasley x reader #yandere george weasley #yandere fred weasley #Fred weasley x reader #the owl house #Raine x reader owl house #hunter x reader #Willow x reader #luz x reader #Amity x reader #amity x luz #luz x amity #gus the owl house #steve rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #sam wilson #Sam x reader #jean grey #jean grey x reader

[fromforeigntofamiliarity]

Marvel Cinematic Universe/X-Men Universe Masterlist

Tony Stark

Angst prompt[a]

Steve Rogers

T'Challa

Shuri

Natasha Romanoff

Bruce Banner

Sam Wilson

James Bucanan 'Bucky' Barnes

Thor Odinson

Erik Stevens

Peter Quill

Steven Strange

Nebula

Carol Danvers

Wanda Maximoff

Monica Rambo

Pietro Maximoff

James Rhodes

Vision

Loki Laufeyson

Hela

Peter Parker

Is It Too Late[a]

Clint Barton

Ultron

Charles Xavier

Scott Summers

Jean Grey

Alex Summers

Anna Marie/ Rouge

Sean Cassidy

Ororo Munroe

Piotr Rasputin

Darwin

Kurt Wagner

Bobby Drake

John Allerdyce

Platinic Or Non-Romantic Relationship

Cosmic Cameo

#marvel cinematic universe #marvel imagine #xmen imagine #mcu #iron man imagine #captain america #falcon #steve rogers #avengers imagine #kurt wagner #tony stark imagine #yandere #masterlist #prompt list #open requests #alex summers

[112-darling]

My obsessive House Mates are dead?!

Yandere Ghost DSMP x Reader

1/??

TW: unnerving content, mentions of death, just overall Spook!

You lived alone. In your Great Grand parents Home. Basically a very very Victorian style house. 

Did I tell you your GrandParents where killers? :/ yeah uh. That’s kinda important. You inherited the house because it was in both wills that YOU specifically get the house, and when you where younger you and your Grandparents made a code.

You hummed at your desk trying to read said code, it was music notes, the house was absolutely cleaned out. So no hints there even if they where carved into the walls. Everything was patched, and cleaned, and basically brand new.

You shoved the desk away and got up and started making some food. You hissed at the sudden cold and checked the AC. It was running fine, and a hot day in summer so maybe just chills from the floors? You sighed and finished some basic leftovers from a burger place. 

I shuffled down back into the office and groaned looking at the paper. You looked again and gasped. 

“Look under the Stairs.” 

I got up and ran to the stairs and grabbed the old note in HUMAN WRITING THIS TIME! I recognized Grandpa’s Writing. 

“Knock 3 times on the basement, the door will unlock.” 

I walked to the locked basement, not even the police could get in here. I knocked three times and the door slid open. I walked down the stairs, and called the Chief’s Number to tell ask for a clean up and search. 

I turned on the light and froze. I heard the cops and ran up the stairs and the door slammed shut. I looked back at the translucent male with glowing Brownish eyes with a phantom Green glow. 

He was clearly British, with curly brown hair and charming glasses. Light passed through him as his corpse sat there rotting. The police knocked 3 times as he let go of my leg and vanished into the vase. 

The steps came down as the police gently helped me up. “I unscrambled the note, and it lead me to the rotten smell down there. My grandparents wanted me to find his body. Which makes me wonder if there’s more.” You said at the table, your Lawyer nodded. 

“Their Body cam shows that their telling the truth officer Jorden.” I perked, “you guys where recording me?!” The officer sighed, “yes Y/n. We had to to get more out of the house, it’s been live streaming, our guys already took out the cameras but please report anymore hidden bodies.” 

You sighed and sat back down. You nodded as your Lawyer drove you home after the lengthy Interview, you looked out the window. “Y/n be safe please?” You laughed “of course Alex. You too.” You walked inside and was tackled. 

The Ghostly Brit held you to the wall, a dark look on his face. “You. You, why didn’t you report me? Just my body? How did you find me! Your related to them why did they kill me!” He hissed slamming you back into the wall making your head spin. 

“Uhhhgggh.” You groaned as he let you go apologizing. “Your quite bi-polar, and I have no clue for any of those questions. I’m- I’ve gotta lay down.” You mumbled as he followed. 

You tried slamming the door on him go change but he melted through and looked at you with puppy eyes. You waved him away as he just snarled suddenly. “Fine I don’t wanna hang out with you either.” He vanished and your light flickered. 

“I’M CHANGING YOU IDIOT!” You yelled and hoped he heard you as you changed.

He appeared again as you slipped on your shirt and hugged you. “I’m wilbur! Wilbur Soot! You must be Y/n L/n! Oh your Grandma spoke about you so much after I died you sounded wonderful and nothing like them! I’ve been alone for a looooong time.” 

He nuzzled into your side as you sighed and laid down. You felt him get bigger? Lankier? And hugged you from behind and spooned you. 

You huffed and tossed the blankets over yourself lazily and fell asleep. You can deal with your Ghostly Roomate later. Right? Not like there’s anymore. . Right?

TAGGIESSSS WEHEHEHEHE ask to be tagged these guys just like my writing I think :/

@nightmare-sam @kasumi-prenami @i-tradio @aike-dbunny

#yandere wilbur soot #x reader #Ghost Wilbur #Not ghostbur #My obsessive housemates are dead?! #TBC #112 makes content

[angrelysimpping]

wow :( all this angst is hurting my heart. how about the main love interests reacting to pc giving them a gift?

Forgive me for how ridiculously long Whitney’s became, they’re a complicated bitch

＞︿＜

(Edit: forgot any warnings! Relationships typical of DoL, yandere, non/dubcon depending on how you wanna read Whitney) 

Alex

Flustered at first. You’re giving them something? For only them? Alex isn’t used to having things just for them, they always had to share growing up. Alex almost doesn't know what to do, being given a gift that's exclusively for them. Even more so if it’s store-bought or brand new. A good majority of Alex’s gifts growing up were pre-owned things from their siblings.  

They will try to immediately put the gift to use: putting it on if it's wearable, regardless if it doesn’t match the season; tasting it if it's edible, even if it's something they’ve never had before and weary of trying; placing a decorative gift in a place of prominence in the cottage. 

Low Dominance

Won’t initiate anything sexual but will pull you into a hug or kiss. Alex will keep thanking you for the gift.

High Dominance

Absolutely trying to push the situation into a sexual direction. You’re so sweet, giving them an unexpected gift! Let Alex give you one in return! Afterward, they will put the gift to use. 

Avery

A little thrown when you present them with a gift, Avery is the one who's supposed to spoil people in this relationship, after all. 

Considers themself a person of refined taste and will expect any gift they receive to reflect that. Be it their favorite wine or an elegant rose, they only expect the best. 

Would prefer you to give them gifts in private, just in case you somehow screw up gift-giving. 

Low Rage/Refined Gift

What’s the occasion? No reason? Oh, you certainly are being sweet! Avery will thank you for the gift and immediately put the gift to use if they can. Will be more affectionate for the rest of the day.

High Rage/Refined Gift

Avery assumes at first you’re just trying to placate them. You will have to convince Avery that you’re just trying to give them a gift, not trying to manipulate their feelings. Avery will accept the gift but they still want you to be more submissive to them. 

Low Rage/Poor Gift

Tries to hide any disappointment but there’s a tightening around the eyes that always gives away Avery’s true feelings. Might be a bit bitter with you for the rest of the night but won’t take it further. 

High Rage/Poor Gift

You better hope you gave that gift in private because otherwise, you’re in trouble. Regardless if you gave it in public or not, Avery is fuming. Do you really think so poorly of them? Will seethe about it for days.

Eden

Eden will thank you for the gift, might try to take things in a sexual direction to give you a gift of their own. 

Low Love Eden isn’t going to have much more of a reaction.

High Love Eden is going to try to downplay how much they absolutely adore the fact that you’ve given them something but it's really easy to tell that Eden loves it.

Wearable gift (clothes, accessories)

Eden is wearing it at all times. Will only stop wearing it if it's out of season (ex: they won’t wear a scarf during the summer) or it's in danger of being damaged. 

Doesn’t want to ask you to repair it because then it would give away how much they love it. They don’t ask you to repair their other clothes, after all. Also feels a bit guilty about letting it get damaged. If it does get destroyed, Eden is hiding it from you but keeping the pieces of the clothing.

Decorative for the Cabin (art, non-utilitarian decor)

It's getting placed somewhere in the cabin where it's easy to be seen and unlikely to be damaged. 

Food

Food is probably Eden's biggest love language, living in the woods has made food very important to them. Eden is wary of trying new things, of the potential of wasting food. Make something they like and they won't shut up about it, asking when you can make it again.

Kylar

The odds of Kylar crying are high and they are keeping whatever you give them, forever. Even if it's something that’s not going to last forever (flowers, food), Kylar is going to hold onto it for as long as they can.  

Split on if they want to wear any clothes you give them, especially if they’re something you used to own. You’re giving Kylar your jacket? They don’t know if they want to wear it to show off to everyone that you’ve given them something or try to preserve it so it never loses your scent. 

All gifts will be given a special place in their shrine room.

Low Suspicion

Will carefully put the gift away until they can put it safely in their room. WIll thank you profusely, their stutter kicking up a few notches in their excitement. 

High Suspicion 

Oh, you've got them a gift? Of course you did, you guys are in love after all! Kylar immediately uses the gift. It's a blanket? Wraps it around them, it doesn't matter if it's the middle of summer and you're hanging out in the park. A jacket? Kylar's taking off their own jacket to put it on. A decorative gift? Holding it the whole time, showing it off to anyone who gets within earshot.  Food? Barely even tastes it before telling you how delicious it is, begging you to bring them more. 

Robin

Similar to Alex in being flustered at getting something that they won't be expected to share. Robin isn’t used to getting things just for themselves, especially if it’s new or made just for them. Everything at the orphanage is pre-used, including gifts. 

Overwhelmed, a chance that they’re going to tear up. Will thank you and feel bad if they don’t have anything to give you in return. You'll probably receive a gift in return in a few days.

 Robin will try to put the gift to use right away.

Low Confidence

If you give them food, they are offering to share it with you. They’ll go into their room to try on clothes and, if it’s not too risque, come out and show you how they look in your gift. Decorative gifts are going where they can see them while they play video games. 

High Confidence

The main difference is that Robin is pulling you into their room to help them use the gift. If the gift is clothes, they’re giving you a bit of a private show. You'll help them decide where a decorative gift will go. Food gifts will be shared while cuddling. 

Whitney

Whitney’s reaction to receiving a gift is based on a combination of their love levels, the gift itself, and if you're in public or private.

note: Sentimental = flowers, chocolates, plushies, anything traditionally considered 'romantic.' Useful = alcohol, cigarettes, money, anything Whitney might consider 'cool.'

Low Love/Sentimental Gift/Public 

That gift is getting tossed and you're getting mocked. There's, like, a 70% chance Whitney is going to push you to your knees so you can give them a 'proper' gift. Hides their confusion at you trying to overtly romance them when they literally bully you. 

High Love/Sentimental Gift/Public

Still going to mock you but they're coming up with an excuse to keep the gift. Will somehow try to embarrass you with the sentimentality of said gift. Teases you for falling for the person who bullies you. 

Low Love/Sentimental Gift/Private 

Open confusion as to why you're giving them something. Thinks you're trying to make fun of them and gets angry. That gift is getting destroyed. If you try to explain to Whitney that, no, you're trying to be nice, Whitney is pushing you to the ground. Show them how nice you can be with your mouth and maybe they'll believe you. 

High Love/Sentimental Gift/Private

One of the rare occasions you can make Whitney blush. Will not come out and admit they like the gift. Either Whitney will leave or make you leave because they don't know how to deal with the situation, nor do they want to. Ties to mock you for giving them a sentimental gift but when you offer to get rid of it for them, they clam up. They are keeping the gift. Yeah, they just called it stupid, and? It's theirs now so, piss off. 

Low Love/Useful Gift/Public 

Taking the gift but still mocking you. What, are you trying to bribe them or something? Are you that much of a pussy? Giving them gifts isn't going to stop them from doing whatever they feel like doing to you at any given moment. 

High Love/Useful Gift/Public

Calls you a good pet, bringing gifts to your owner. They are going to start petting you, though Whitney doesn't limit petting to the head. If you didn't already have a collar on, one is in your near future. 

Low Love/Useful Gift/Private 

Taking the gift but not acknowledging it. You just gave them a gift? Really? Can you prove it? Do you have any witnesses? No? Alright then, now fuck off. 

High Love/Useful Gift/Private 

Oh dude, you're getting laid, congrats! Depending on how useful of a gift Whitney considers it, the more they're going to whisper praise in your ear as they fuck you into next week. Did their slut think they wouldn't get a reward for being so good? You didn't think Whitney was a bad owner, did you? They gotta get that positive reinforcement in, after all. Again, expect a collar in your future if you don't already have one. Or a tattoo. 

#degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity whitney #degrees of lewdity kylar #degrees of lewdity avery #degrees of lewdity alex #degrees of lewdity eden #degrees of lewdity robin #my writing #Avery the Businessperson #Whitney the Bully #Robin the Orphan #Kylar the Loner #Eden the Hunter

[giorno-plays-piano]

Erased Part 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, mentions of death and grave robbery, might get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 3870.

Summary: One night your friend calls to remind you about commemorating your classmate who had drowned many years ago. 

P.S. This was influenced by a Russian VN Opravdanie and some mourning rituals.

_____________________

One more evening. One more wasted day. With a grocery bag in your hand you kept walking the snowy streets of your home town where you spent all your life, never really trying to move somewhere: you had long decided there was no sense in going anywhere else even if your never changing routine was driving you crazy sometimes. Life was all the same in other places, too.

It was boring. Always quiet, always repetitive, always reminding you that it didn’t matter even if you’d forget the whole past year because it was all the same. A boring office job, small but stable salary, meetings with a couple of friends and fellow classmates from time to time, going to the same grocery store every week, returning to an empty apartment, spending your evening watching tv on the couch near a small radiator. Sometimes you would visit your parents or grandmother, listening to their concerns about you not having your own family yet and refusing to meet some son of their friends. Visits to another town close by were even more rare. You had never actually been to another country, and you had no idea what if felt like. Funny, but you didn’t even care.

You were stuck in that small snow-covered town where it had always been cold even when the gloomy summer was coming, and that was how it was supposed to be. You were destined to work somewhere you didn’t even like, one day marry a good for nothing guy and give birth to children who would inherit the same fate. There was nothing that could change - unless some hurricane would come and destroy the town at all. Then you would have to settle in some similar boring place and live the same way there.

Shaking off the snow from your hood, shoulders, and boots, you stepped into your apartment, happy it was much warmer inside - the radiator was working, thank goodness. As you hang your coat inside a hall closet, you brought the bag to the kitchen, lazily opening the fridge and looking at the meat leftovers and some porridge you cooked this morning. Uh-huh, you were too tired to make dinner, really. Some ham sandwiches would do.

Sitting on the coach again and watching some noir movie with a sandwich in your hand, you thought about how stupid your life was. What was you reason to live? Do some work nobody cared about? Making those silly reports nobody was going to read? Pleasing your parents with your mere presence? It was all you could think of, and the thought made you sad.

Suddenly, your phone rang, and you almost dropped the sandwich. Who was that? Your parents were going to bed early, and they didn’t really call you at this hour. Who was that?

Ah, Alex, a former classmate of yours who then studied in the same university as you. He was your good friend, and from time to time you were gathering in a cafe to chat about how things were going or just walked the streets together, complaining about your jobs.

“Don’t forget to commemorate Barnes today.” The message said, and you froze, furrowing your brows. Commemorate who?

That’s what you wrote to him, trying to remember who Alex was talking about.

“Barnes! Our classmate.” The next message said. “Remember when he got transferred to another school when we were 14? I’ve just talked to Anna, she said he drowned in the lake that year. Commemorate him today, it’s the day of his death.”

Oh shit. It’s true, you remembered that funny kid with a smile a mile wide and striking blue eyes all the girls were jealous of. How could you forget James? If you remembered well, you were kind of in love with him, but you were too young to really recognize your feelings and do something about them. Besides, when you thought of it now, you doubted James wouldn’t laugh at you. You two were just 14 years old, for God’s sake.

So, he died? Drowned? He probably wanted to take a shortcut through the lake instead of going through the whole park surrounding it, but that year the ice wasn’t strong enough to carry his weight, and he drowned just like several careless boys before him. Poor James. He was just a kid when it happened.

Suddenly, you realized how stupid of you was to think about your boring life and get upset over something so trivial. James was dead. You’d never chat about him with Alex and hear something about Barnes moving to some other city or getting a good raise or having a kid. He died. He was never going to get a job, marry someone, have children and live happily. You bet he would give anything for the boring life you were having.

Feeling cold, you stood up from the couch and headed over to the kitchen with a phone in your hand, a half-finished sandwich in the other. If it was the day of James’ death, you should really commemorate him: it meant having a drink and remembering something good about the boy, rest his soul. Maybe the next time you saw Alex you should talk about James with him, ask how did it really happen.

Despite you going through all the kitchen counters the only thing you found was some half-empty bottle of vodka probably forgotten by Alex or some of his friends. Shivering in your old knitted sweater, you looked out the window and furrowed your brows: it was too cold and dark to return to the grocery store for a bottle of wine. You’d prefer staying home and having just one shot of vodka, it was more than enough for commemorating someone. Not like James would care, really.

Cutting a few pieces of ham, cheese and some stale bread, you stopped for a second and went to an old wooden cupboard, taking out a few candies in bright-colored wrappings. Deciding it would be enough, you poured vodka into the glass and flinched, taking it closer to your mouth. Ugh, you never really liked strong alcohol, and the smell was kind of disgusting. Alex would laugh at you now, you thought and brought the glass to your mouth again.

I’m sorry it happened to you, James, you said to yourself, and the image of a smiling boy suddenly appeared in your head. You were a good kid. Rest in peace.

Knowing you won’t be able to tolerate the drink in your glass if you kept taking a sip after sip, you downed the shot and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the liquid burning your throat and making you cough. Shit, it was certainly too strong for you, so you quickly took a piece of bread and put some cheese on eat, swallowing it to get the taste of vodka away. Disgusting.

I hope you are in a better place now, James.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly finished your improvised sandwich and took a candy, leaving a wrapping on the table and not even bothering with throwing it in the trash bin. The taste of alcohol was still lingering on your tongue, and it was hard to breathe, making you cough and shut your eyes again. Damn, that was the last time you drank it. From now on nothing but wine!

Thinking water wasn’t enough to keep that irritating taste away, you put a metallic kettle on the stove to make some tea and sat back, watching the snow storm becoming stronger outside. Except the actual snow, everything was pitch black - street lights never worked despite people complaining to the town administration all the time. They only shone bright near the town hall, that’s how thing were in this godforsaken place.

Shit, you had the audacity to think of things like that when you were commemorating James, the boy who died before he even reached adulthood. Who on Earth cared about street lights right now?

Shaking your head, you decided to switch the lights off in the kitchen to have a chance to see the street. Soon you were sitting close to a cracked windowsill and staring at the never ending blackness, finding an odd comfort in it and the sounds of a raging storm. With each passing second it felt like your life wasn’t as bad as you thought.

____________

When you woke up from a loud sound as if someone was hitting the walls with great force, it smelled like something was burning in the kitchen, your throat dry and your head heavy; you felt like you were knocked down and stepped on because your head hurt. What had happened? What was that? That smell?..

The kettle on the stove.

Your body moved on your own when you opened a window, the snow getting in immediately and flying over the kitchen while you struggled to stand, using a chair to get closer to a stove with its surface becoming red, a kettle slowly melting on it. As you switched if off, you turned on the tap and immediately poured water over the kettle, then spraying some water on your face and clothes, realizing you almost caused a fire. Why didn’t the damn alarm work? Oh, this shit was so old you were hardly surprised.

Damn, you were lucky you had an electric, not a gas stove. You’d be dead by now.

As you slowly came back to your senses, you suddenly thought about that odd sound of someone hitting the wall upstairs, eventually waking you up. There was an old man living upstairs, the one who had always been in a cranky mood, but he had never woke you up at night like that. Was it the heat? Did he feel it and woke you up? Was it something else?

Looking at what was left from your beautiful metallic kettle on the stove, you let out a breath nervously and, wearing something like your old autumn jacket - it was hard to tell what you pulled from a hall closet - you quickly left your apartment, running up the stairs. What if the old man was having a stroke?

Feeling a bit dizzy still, you banged his door desperately, not knowing if he was still conscious or not. Was he still alive? Was he alright? If he were, was he going to open the door and yell at you at the top of his voice for almost burning your apartment down? Well, you thought you’d prefer the last option if it meant the man who saved you also stayed alive.

But he wasn’t opening. In fact, you heard no sounds coming from his apartment at all. Shit, he was really having a stroke, and you needed...

“Is everything alright?” Somebody to your left asked, and you jumped, clutching the jacket on your chest. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but you have been banging the door as if your life depends on it.”

It was a tall, beefy man in a black t-shirt with some heavy metal band on it, his dull brown hair quite long for a man living in a town as conservative as yours, eyes strikingly blue. He was living next to the man above you.

“Your neighbor...” You had a hard time pulling yourself together, your throat  parched and scratchy. “He has been hitting the wall... He might be having a stroke.”

The man arched an eyebrow at you, cocking his head to the side. “You sure? He went to see his children a few days ago. I don’t think he came back.”

“No, I’m sure!”

Obviously, the wall banging sounded right above your head, and no one but an old man living above you could do it. Yes, you were close to fainting that moment, but the sound was too clear to just brush it off.

“I need to call an ambulance.”

“Wait, he left me the keys to his apartment in case if the drain bursts again. Give me a second.” The next moments the stranger disappeared inside his own apartment, and for a couple of agonizing seconds you were left all alone on the staircase until the man showed up with a key in his hand, proceeding to open the door.

Getting inside, you started yelling loudly, “Sir! Sir, are you here?”

You ran to the kitchen, almost forgetting about the stranger: the picture of an old man laying on the floor breathless was making your hair stand on end. However, once you got there and put the lights on, you realized there was no one there. The kitchen was completely empty, dust gathering on the top of the counters and in the corners of the room. It looked like no one had been there for at least a couple of days. Were you mistaken? No, it couldn’t be, you heard that sound, it woke you up, for God’s sake!

Immediately proceeding to the other rooms, you saw a blank expression on the face of the stranger wandering the corridor and realized no one was in the apartment at all. How could it be?

“See, he didn’t return yet.” The man said as you turned to him, perplexed and not really understanding what was happening here. “There was no banging, I didn’t hear anything but you, actually.”

“No, it can’t be.” You put a hand on your forehead, deciding whether you had been hallucinating from the heat or the man was simply lying to you. “I... I’m sure I heard something. Could it be the other neighbor?”

“There are no other neighbors. Just the old man and me.”

___________

You tried forgetting about that night, still shivering from the thought you could easily die if you didn’t wake up. The kettle was destroyed along with your stove, and dad sent you some money to get a new one once he heard you crying over the phone. He promised not to tell about this your mom - she would definitely either faint or have a real heart attack.

The old man came back home a few days later just like Bucky, the guy you met that night, told you. He was perfectly alright, still in his snarky mood though. You decided you really heard that knock in your dream, otherwise the only way to explain what had happened was if thieves got inside old man’s apartment, but it was ridiculous. Bucky’s flat was certainly too far for you to hear the sound so clearly, too.

When you told Alex the story, he took the whole other direction, watching you wide-eyed and telling you it was certainly the spirit of James waking you up and saving you from such stupid death. In the end, that time you had been in the middle of commemorating your dead classmate. He certainly didn’t want you to die the same day as him. Maybe he was even grateful to you for remembering him.

Well, whatever. Despite you actually getting nervous because of Alex’s words, you decided it didn’t matter. You were safe. Now you just had to take care and never drink anything alcoholic at all. And never switch off the lights when your stove was on.

The next week you spent trying to forget about this story, working like a horse and taking extra hours just not to return home to your empty apartment. You were going to spend the weekend at your parents’ place for a change, but on Friday the last minute when you already wanted to depart Alex suddenly showed up at your door with a bottle of vodka, pack of ham and some sliced bread in a plastic packet.

“Are you mad?” You raised your eyebrows at him, angry he brought a bottle when you explicitly told him you weren’t drinking anymore. “What is this?”

“That’s not for you.” Your friend brushed it off as if it didn’t matter. “We have to visit Barnes’ grave.”

“Wait, what?”

“We need to visit his grave.” Alex repeated to you angrily, shoving a pack of ham into your arms. “I talked to the priest, and he said we need to go visit boy’s grave. It’s a must!”

You rolled your eyes at him, not even knowing how to react. Clearly, your friend has lost his mind.

Surprisingly, Alex was so pushy you couldn’t get him out of your place until you agreed to go to the graveyard with him and pay your respect to your classmate. Alex was absolutely sure the boy had saved your life, and it was disrespectful towards him to just leave things as they were. You agreed only because your friend had promised to bring you to your parents with his car.

Once you bought a couple of red carnations, the two of you headed to the graveyard, passing a small church and stopping the car right in front of the large iron gates. Nervously looking at them, you wrapped your coat tighter around your body trembling from cold, glancing at Alex in that stupid fur hat of his.

“Come on, it won’t take long.” He said, catching a sight of you. “I know the place. Let’s just go clean the grave, leave flowers and vodka, and then go. It’s the least we can do.”

Huffing and puffing with irritation, you got up from your seat and left his old car, a pack of ham still in your hands along with carnations. It was ridiculous, but, well, cleaning someone’s grave wasn’t a bad thing, really. You wouldn’t be surprised if James’ parents moved to some other place after that terrible incident, and his grave could be deserted after all these years.

Clenching carnations in your hand, you followed Alex into the gloomy graveyard, looking at old rusted crosses and new shining ones, moss-covered gravestones and a couple of monuments made by some rich citizens for their beloved who had passed away. You didn’t like coming to this place - it felt like it had always been cold here even in the hottest day of the year. Now, in the middle of February, it was freezing.

“Just a few more meters!” The man in front of you said, gesturing somewhere to the left where there were much less graves. “It should be here.”

Furrowing your brows, you kept walking, looking at the grey gravestones and looking for a familiar name. Not this one... not that one either... those two weren’t what you needed...

You bumped into Alex all of a sudden as he froze in place, and you snapped at him, “What the hell man? Why are you standing here?”

But he didn’t reply to you, gesturing somewhere to the right side of the path, and you stilled on your spot, too, looking at the destroyed grave with a broken tombstone laying in the snow. A little iron fence around it was torn apart, and it even looked like someone tried digging the grave. As you got a bit closer, you read “James Buchanan Barnes” on the broken stone and clenched Alex’s hand in yours, afraid to make one more step. God, who did that? What monster could destroy a grave, much less the one of a poor boy who died so young?

It looked so horrible there was no reason to attempt cleaning this mess. This place certainly needed a renovation, but you didn’t even know if you were allowed to do it since you weren’t James’ relative. God, why no one tried doing something with it? Did his parents really leave the town?

“That’s not good.” Alex suddenly said, his face getting extremely pale. “Oh shit, this is not good at all.”

“Of course, it isn’t.” You shook your head, still unable to believe your eyes. “What kind of bastard do you have to be to do that? Let’s go ask a supervisor what has happened here.”

When you found the man cleaning the path on the other side of the graveyard, he told the two of you it was a very odd story when somebody destroyed a boy’s grave, going as far as ruining his tombstone and even digging up the coffin. Well, of course, from time to time some vandals would show up to make a mess, but it had never went further than painting a few tombstones. Besides, only James’ grave had been destroyed, all the ones close to him were left in the same state as before. Why? Why targeting a grave of some poor drowned boy? The supervisor thought someone decided that his parents put something very valuable into the grave, provoking a thief to act, but the strangest thing was that the coffin turned out to be completely empty. The corpse had never been found as if it had never been there at all.

Did they bury an empty coffin? If the body had been destroyed or not found at all, there was nothing odd in that, but the supervisor swore the coffin wasn’t empty when he had been helping bury the boy. It had been such a tragedy when it happened, he said, adding he remembered that day well: the town you lived in was small, and the death of a child was a big thing here.

What happened to James’ body? The supervisor didn’t know. By the end of the story he was talking in a hushed voice. On the other hand, Alex was so pale as if he saw a ghost.

You spent time crossing the graveyard in complete silence as you processed the words of an old supervisor. What a cruel thing it was, to stole a corpse of a 14 year old kid who had done nothing wrong in his entire life. You couldn’t comprehend the reasoning behind this act: what, when the thief found nothing in the coffin he decided to take a corpse and throw some punches at it? God, it was disgusting. You really hoped that person was already in prison.

“Listen, I need to go and see the priest.” Alex mumbled to you in the car, and you realized he was trembling a little as if the thing he saw was too much for him. “That’s a very, very bad thing. I'm not sure Barnes’ soul rests in peace.”

“Alex, please.” You rolled your eyes, eating a piece of ham you were intended to leave on the grave. What, did you friend was really going to talk about ghosts after all he saw? He should have been worried about the thief destroying people’s graves. “You’re too superstitious. Of course, he rests in peace! His grave has nothing to do with it, but we really need to contact the administration, make them repair the place and found the bastard who did this. It’s inhuman to leave it like that.”

“No, no, you don’t understand!” The man on the driver’s seat shook his head disapprovingly. “What if James is still here, unable to continue his path? What if his ghost still wanders this place after all these years? Fuck, he certainly isn’t good anymore.”

“Alex-”

“No, can’t you see? That time when you fell asleep with your stove one... What if he didn’t save you but tried to kill you when you commemorated him that night?”

__________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki   @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @iheartsebandchris @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @ninefuckingoneone

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #yandere #mcu #mcu fanfiction

[gangrenados]

Halloween: the mini-special

I wanna make some drabbles for the spooky season lol

Drabbles:

☆Slasher

☆Blasphemy

☆Werewolf

☆Darkness

☆Vampires

☆Possession

☆ Summon

☆Demons

☆Experiment

☆Yandere

Headcanons:

☆Amarre (would they do a love spell? How they would be under one?)

☆Horror movies (how is to watch horror movies with them)

☆Spooky (how they would be in a horror movie)

☆Monster (what kind of monster they would be, would they be a decent partner or would they lure you to kill you)

Rules:

•One prompt per request

•You can request two characters per request. Example: " fulano y sutano with vampires, please!"

•Here are the fandoms you can choose

#special #deadly class imagine #xmen imagine #dc imagine

[scary-lasagna]

Trust || Part VII

" The rustling of fabric and shrinking shadow signaled that he put the gun away but was advancing towards you. What if he decided on a knife instead? Instead, a rough hand brushed your hair out of your face, and placed a soft kiss on your temple. You know he's not going to let up. You have to plan an escape. "

Yandere!Hoodie/Brian x Reader

* * *

The first thing you noticed after emerging from your room was the shiny tray that lay on the console table behind the couch with dirty dishes sitting beside it. Hoodie was busy watching some shitty news story on the broken television. He was always keeping an extra eye out for any reports about you, or his 'friends' for that matter, broken tv or not.

He didn't want the cops to even know about your disappearance, let alone get any leads. But this is small-town Alabama, the cops aren't exactly too smart outside of noise complaints and underage drinking.

You could tell Hoodie was still tense from the night before. Just by the way he was gripping his ankle as his leg bobbed annoyingly. Was he dangerous? Throughout the whole ordeal, he proved himself to not hurt you. Even when tempted with a gun.

But your mind flashed back to the ringlets around your arm, and his crying face with his hands around your neck.

You couldn't trust him. Not after what you've seen he's capable of, even though he held back his violence last night. 

A few shards of your plates were still sprinkling the living room floor. And the tv grew a few more cracks from the assault.

It was so tantalizing. You were just mere feet away from it, and one whack to the back of the head would be enough to stun your captor and fuck around with the door in the right way, just enough to get the hell out of here.

You eyed Hoodie's reflection through the glare of the cracked television, and you acted on primal impulse. The difference between life and death. A gunshot and a beating heart.

The flat of the tray hit the back of his head with a satisfying, "pWaNnng" and you didn't wait to watch him collapse off of the couch. You were slightly disappointed that you couldn't watch your fantasy take place in reality in front of you.

You took off running towards the rickety cellar door. You've seen Hoodie fuck around with it a few times to get a general idea of how it works.

You never looked behind you, yanking and pulling on the metal beam that held it shut. You shouldered it, and the fresh air teased your skin. Another painful lunge towards the slab and it broke loose. You were surprised the cement didn't crack under it's weight, but you had no time to worry about it.

You were already running, you didn't care that you didn't have any shoes, or nothing else besides a t-shirt and jeans to protect you.

You were free. The cool summer wind felt amazing against your cheeks and puffy eyes. And the decaying smell of the forest called out like home to you. There wasn't really telling where you were headed, because heading back the way you came would be too predictable. You're just asking to get caught, then. But this means trudging through a foreign area, and you were wasting energy running this far. For the first time since you left, you looked behind you.

No one.

No signs of yellow between the trees, not even any decaying leaves that are reaching the end of their lifespan sprouted from any low hanging branches. You breathed in, backing up against a tree. The air that touched your throat felt like knives scraping down your raw skin. You passed a shaky breath and looked back once more before relaxing to a steady pace that didn't would leave you exhausted by the time you reached a main road, or any other sign of civilization.

You focused on the sounds around you, making sure the only sounds were the tree frogs and the cheerful chirp of summer crickets. 

But something was...off. Despite the noise of the forest, you couldn't help but feel that there was a predator nearby. An uneasy feeling that settled in the pit of your stomach. 

Then a branch snapped behind you, followed by a hasty shuffle of leaves. You turned, frozen like a deer in the headlights, your wide [E/C] eyes scanning for any possible signs of life other than the forest creatures.

Your muscles slowly relaxed, settling down by your side. It was probably just a squirrel that was eager to get a start on the day.

You turned right into a firm chest. You physically jumped backward, tripping over your own feet as you did so.

"Alex?"

The brunette stared down at you through his red flecked spectacles. You didn't want to know who's blood was on his glasses or why. You just wanted to get the hell out of there.

"Listen, [Y/N]. We've been friends for a while before all of this. But I can't just ignore what's been going on, there's really no other option for you."

"Dude, listen, I don't what the hell you're on, but I need to go. It's not safe for me here I was kid-"

"It's not safe. You are never going to be safe. Don't you understand?! The thing has been follow-"

"Alex! I don't give two flying fucks about your villainy monologue right now, I've heard enough of your bullshit from the tapes, just take me to the nearest police station."

"Cops aren't going to he...help..." Alex let out a strained growl, grasping at his temples. It was just now that you realized the switchblade he held in his right hand that he must've caught from his sleeve. Christ, what next?

You wondered if his brain decided to finally fry itself and have a mental breakdown. But then you felt it, first it was dull, barely noticeable behind your ear. But then it started radiating throughout your scalp. The pain was kin to a needle bouncing off of your inner skull and tearing up what's left of your brain. As soon as you caught the glint of Alex's glasses perk up, you turn to take off. 

But you shrieked in horror, watching the 8 foot tall faceless creature tower over you. The ringing just got louder and brain shattering. You couldn't think you couldn't move. You're not even sure when you collapsed, but you were grateful to ground yourself. As if the smaller you became, the less the creature would see you as prey.

You wish it would stop. You wish Alex was normal. You wish Brian was here to protect you and tell that that everything's going to be okay as he wrapped you up in strong arms and a maple smelling hoodie. But nothing was okay. Alex is a homicidal maniac, Hoodie has stolen your boyfriend, and this faceless creature is eventually going to make your head explode if it didn't kill you first.

"YOU!" A roar erupted from Alex, letting the leaves dance under his feet as he took off running. Whatever that creature is seems to be fond of Alex, because the ringing subsided as soon as Alex was out of sight.

You huffed, hugging yourself as you touched the earthy leaves and moss with your forehead. Hunched over and fatigued in a fetal position, you took a few moments to collect yourself.

No matter how many times you gasped for air, your lungs always begged for more. You forced yourself to sit up from your protective position, looking around the thick woods full to the brim of tree trunks, shrubs, and poison ivy.

Whether it was snot or blood retreating back into your sinuses when you sniffed, you didn't know nor care. It was over, it was time to go home.

But something nagged you. Who came to your rescue? Who put themselves in harm's way for your sake? Only one person who's stupid enough came to mind, and you didn't like it.

You turned, slowly so you wouldn't get dizzy, and peered through the trees. Beyond the low ringing in your ears, a hagrid rustle of leaves bounced around the sound of the forest.

By supporting yourself with the wrinkly texture of the trees, you somehow made your way towards the fight.

You arrived at the wrong time, because what once was a noble battle, quickly turned into a massacre.

Alex was pummeling Hoodie, or a spark of hope in your heart found that it might be Brian shining through to save you. Whoever it was, he wouldn't last, not if Alex got his hands on the knife. 

The knife.

Where was it? Surely if Alex had it, the fight would've been over with by now. Your eyes were already searching the ground for a glint of a blade, or possibly even a discoloration among the leaves. But it was hard to see. The returning headache cause your vision to blurr, or maybe you even ruptured a blood vessel in your eye.

Alex was actively looking for the knife, and for a moment you thought he was going to start using you as a punching bag when his sight landed on you. But he was diving for the knife.

It was right in front of you.

You lunged, meeting Alex's dive. He collided with your shoulder and you fumbled with the knife beneath you. You managed to shove the man off as you retreated to gain distance between the both of you. 

You panted, opening the knife with a sharp click, outstretching your hand towards he attacker.

Alex stared, glancing wearily between you and Hoodie.

"Don't worry, I'll be back for you. Both of you." He backpedaled a few steps before running in the opposite direction. You made sure he was faded from view before you looked down at Hoodie. Brian?

You knelt down, taking some effort in turning him over. Jesus Christ, his entire stomach was soaked in blood. You hesitantly pulled up his clothing, looking for the source of bleeding, and praying that there's not more than one.

The seeping one-inch spot didn't do much to ease your worries, but it was a start.

You can't just leave him here to die. That's when his hand grabbed you. Your eyes met with the darkness of the mask, and in sudden realization, you realized this was all your fault. Hoodie could die because of you, along with what's left of Brian. 

Hoodie gasped when met with fresh air, the mask he wore was dreadfully suffocating, and it wasn't helping that most of his oxygen is being poured out of his abdomen.

The key.

If he died, you'd have no way to escape or get away from here safely. Hoodie tightened his grip on your arm, watching your worried eyes trying to assess his wounds. 

He let out a cry of pain, the muscles in his torso contracting and raising his torso against your hands pressing on the stab wound.

"I'm s-so sorry." Hoodie watched your slumped form through squinted eyes. Why were you apologizing to him? All you wanted was some fresh air. It was stuffy in that basement. He couldn't blame you for wanting to leave for a little bit, but he was too afraid to let out outside. For this very reason. 

In the depth of his love, he didn't see that you could do no wrong.

"Hoodie, you have to help me."

It took all of his strength to fumble with the brass key chained around his neck. You needed this. You needed the key for his room, to find the car keys, phones, supplies, and get far away from here. Far from Alex, far from the faceless man, far from him. Tim could take care of you. He ripped it off, weakly placing his hand on top of yours.

"You have to try to stand, I can't carry you back on my own."

For a brief moment, auburn eyes flickered with hazel. Brian reached through, if only for a few measly seconds.

But you were too busy to notice. You were lugging him up like a sack of potatoes, managing to get him on his feet.

You two trudged, slowly, through the crunchy leaves of Rosswood forest.  

Back to that cellar.

#Trust #yandere #yandere!Hoodie #hoodie #hoody marble hornets #Marble hornets #creepypasta #creepypasta imagines #alex kraile #my favorite line in the entire series is in here

[immabethehero]

Eliza and Angelica Kidnap Alex

~You didn’t specify if they were verbal or physical, so I took matter into my own hands!

This is from the musical Hamilton, right after the song Take a Break!

“Take a break! You need one!” Eliza protested. “It’s not healthy to overwork yourself just so you can- what do you say, stick it to the other guys?”

“It’s just for a few days, and then you’ll be back on your feet! Refreshed and ready to kick ass!” Angelica added.

“Angelica, language! The kids are listening!” Eliza scolded, though she was smiling. She turned back to her husband. “Come on. I promise, this will be good for you.”

Alexander, like the dumbass he was, said, “I can’t stop until I get my plan through Congress. I’m sorry, girls. Maybe next time I can come.” He headed back upstairs, stumbling a little on the way up.

Eliza sighed. Why did her husband have to be so stubborn? And those bags under his eyes looked ghastly. He needed a break. She felt a tug on her sleeve.

“Mommy, why isn’t Daddy coming with us?” Angie asked.

“He always puts work before us, it isn’t fair!” Phillip said with a sniffle.

“No, it’s not,” Eliza mumbled. She bent down. “You two go get your things, and wait in the carriage for us. Angelica, come with me.”

The kids ran off to grab their suitcases. Angelica followed her sister into the kitchen.

“Eliza? What are we doing?” Angeliza asked hesitantly.

“I went to the market recently, and came across a strange old woman with naturally white hair,” Eliza explained. “She told me that soon I would need to help my husband before it was too late, and gave me this.” She held a parchment. Angelica read the title.

“A sleeping drought?”

“We’re going to drug Alexander and take him with us,” Eliza explained. She set the paper down and started gathering ingredients. “Can you make some tea while I conjure this up?”

“Won’t Alex be mad when he wakes up?” Angelica inquired.

“Dear sister, did you see the way he stumbled on the stairs? Or how his speech was slurred? Or those big bags under his eyes? He’s begging us to help him!” Eliza reasoned. “He needs a break, and we’re giving it to him, one way or another!”

Angelica shrugged and continued boiling the kettle. Eliza rushed around, gathering herbs and spices and tossing them into a large pot.

“Won’t President Washington be mad?” Angelica asked.

“Nah, I think he’ll thank us,” Eliza admits. “He’s been going on as well about how Alexander needs a break. That reminds me. Laurie! Can you write something for me?”

Laurie took out a paper and quill.

“‘Dear Mr. President,’” Eliza said. “‘As you know, my husband, Alexander Hamilton, has been working himself ragged trying to work out a compromise regarding his financial proposals. He has, unfortunately, made himself quite sick, and must rest for the time being. My sister, Angelica Schuyler-Church, and I will take him upstate for the summer, so that he may recover in good health. Sincerely, Elizabeth Hamilton.’”

Eliza finished stirring the pot and poured its contents into a waiting cup of tea.

“This should do it,” Eliza said. “Pack Alexander’s things while I give him this?”

“How long do we have before he wakes up?”

“Knowing how sleep deprived Alex is? He probably won’t wake up until the next day. Frederick, can you help me move him when he falls asleep?” Eliza headed upstairs with Frederick behind her. Angelica quietly slipped into the bedroom and began packing Alex’s clothes.

“Alexander?” Eliza knocked on the door. No response. She tried again. “Alexander?”

Still no response. Eliza sighed. “I’m coming in.” She opened the door.

SNOORRREEEE. Eliza nearly dropped her cup. Alexander was already asleep, slouched on top of his work, drooling over his papers. There was no need to make the potion at all!

But still, he could be a light sleeper. Eliza tiptoed over to him and gently nudged him. He snorted and stirred.

“Eliza? What are you…”

Eliza shushed him. “Here. I made some tea for you. As a little parting gift.” She set the cup down.

Alexander smiled and took the cup. “Thank you Betsy. I’m sorry I can’t come with you. I promise I’ll clear my schedule next time we head uptown.”

“It’s alright, I know how much this means to you.” Eliza gently kissed her husband’s forehead. He smiled and downed the cup in one gulp. Welp, now he’d really sleep.

Alexander put the cup down and turned back to his work. He picked up a quill with a trembling hand. Were his hands always this shaky? He looked down. The words seemed to be… moving. He swayed a little.

“Uh, Betsy?” he called out. He attempted to stand, and nearly succeeded in toppling over.

“Yes?” Eliza asked. Her voice sounded so far away... Don’t go!

“I don’t… feel so good…” Alexander saw the floor rise up, then all went black.

“ALEXANDER!” Eliza cried out as her husband crashed to the floor. She didn’t expect him to react so quickly to the drought! Perhaps she made too much? She checked his pulse. Thank goodness, he’s still alive!

Frederick picked Alexander up bridal style and Eliza led him outside to the carriage, where Angelica was waiting with a suitcase.

“Well?” Angelica asked. “How did it go?”

“He drank the whole thing and fainted dead away,” Eliza said. She climbed into the carriage. Frederick gently put the sleeping Alexander on Eliza’s lap. “Don’t think he’ll be waking up for a while.”

The sisters high-fived each other. “Shall we head to our father’s?”

“Let’s go!” Angelica cheered, and so they were off!

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae​, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-king, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @writerwithdepression, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada, @deadlydevine, @meteorshowersfillthesky, @bupine, @the-yandere-kitsune, @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp,

#hamilton musical #hamilton #alexander hamilton #eliza schuyler #angelica schuyler #elizabeth schuyler #writing #apparently i can write

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Character List and Rules

RULES: 

I don’t write smut, abuse, self-harm, or suicide. I do NOT write yandere. I do not write gore or major character death.

Nor do I write cheating. 

Also, MAKE SURE YOU CHECK THE LIST BEFORE REQUESTING. If you request a fic for someone who is not on the list, I’m not writing a fic for you. Sorry. Follow the rules or request from someone else.

I ONLY write Reader-Insert fics and Headcanons. I do NOT write ships!!!

I do NOT write the reader with a specific body type specified. Ex: Skinny reader, chubby reader, etc.

I do not write in the first person, only second or third person. I do not write from any character’s POV. 

TIPS:

I DO write poly fics: [character] x reader x [character]

Be sure to specify what gender you’d like reader to be in your fic. Gender neutral is an option! This is also an LGBTQ+ safe space, so feel free to ask for m/m or w/w.

When requesting, it helps me if you give a basic premise, but not TOO much detail. If you just ask for a character without a scenario, sometimes I can think of something, but sometimes I can’t. 

I don’t ever give Y/N a name other than Y/N unless it’s a nickname or a title of some kind. 

Note: List has been sorted alphabetically by first name (because some characters don’t have a last name).

The List

Most Recently Updated: 12/9/2023

New Characters:

 Nebula (Guardians of the Galaxy)**

Adam Warlock (Guardians of the Galaxy)*

Barbie (Barbie)*

Ken (Barbie)

Simon (Dungeons and Dragons)*

Edgin ( Dungeons and Dragons)

Doric (Dungeons and Dragons)

Xenk (Dungeons and Dragons)

Holga (Dungeons and Dragons)**

Oliver (Love at First Sight)***

Chad Meeks-Martin (Scream)**

Mindy Meeks-Martin (Scream)*

Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle)*

Sanji (Live-Action One Piece)***

Zoro (Live-Action One Piece)***

Nami (Live-Action One Piece)

Usopp (Live-Action One Piece)*

Luffy (Live-Action One Piece)

Laszlo Cravensworth (What We Do in the Shadows)*

Nadja Antipaxos (What We Do in the Shadows)**

 **Baldur’s Gate 3 Characters Coming Soon**

  Key:

Characters that are marked with a * are characters I’m especially interested in writing for. More * denote more interest.

 Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man (Suicide Squad)**

Agatha Harkness (WandaVision)**

Ahkmenrah (Night at the Museum)*

Aidan (Barbie: Magic of the Pegasus)*

Aladdin (Aladdin)

A-Lan (Zombies)**

Alex (Jumanji)*

Alex Russo (Wizards of Waverly Place)

Alex Summers/Havok (X-Men)*

Aquaman (Justice League)**

Archer Reynolds (L.O.S.T. and F.O.U.N.D.)

Archie Hopper (Once Upon a Time)**

Argyle (Stranger Things)*

Arya Miller (Recensere)

A-Spen (Zombies)

August (Once Upon a Time)

Axel (Kingdom Hearts)***

Beast Boy (Teen Titans)***

Belle (Beauty and the Beast)

Ben Grimm (Fantastic Four)**

Ben Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy)***

Ben Tennyson (Ben 10 Alien Force)

Benjamin Kim (O Positive)***

Benny (Ella Enchanted)

Benny Weir (My Babysitter’s A Vampire)**

Bernard the Elf (The Santa Clause)***

Bethany (Jumanji)

Bill Weasley (Harry Potter)

Bobby Drake (X-Men)

Bonnie Bennett (The Vampire Diaries)**

Brian Martin (L.O.S.T. and F.O.U.N.D.)***

Bruce Banner (The Avengers) 

Brynjolf (Skyrim)*

Bucky Barnes (The Avengers)

Bunnymund (Rise of the Guardians)*

Caleb Vatore (The Sims 4)**

Carlos (Disney Descendants)

Carlos Garcia (Big Time Rush)

Caroline Forbes (The Vampire Diaries)

Champ (Goosebumps)**

Charles Xavier (X-Men)

Cisco Ramon (The Flash)**

Clark Kent (DCEU)*

Clawd Wolf (Monster High)*

Cleo Sertori (H2O)

Clint Barton (The Avengers)

Colossus (Deadpool)

Connor Kent (Young Justice)*

Cyborg (Justice League)**

Cyborg (Teen Titans)***

Daisy Johnson (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)

Damon Salvatore (The Vampire Diaries)***

Daphne (Scooby-Doo)*

Dave Lizewski (Kick-Ass)**

David Bowen (L.O.S.T. and F.O.U.N.D.)***

Dexter (Fusionfall)

Diana Prince (Justice League)**

Diaval (Maleficent)*

Dick Grayson (Young Justice)

Diego Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy)

Digger Harkness (Suicide Squad)**

Doug (Disney Descendants)***

Drake (Star-Crossed)***

Drax the Destroyer (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Druig (MCU)***

Eddie Brock (Venom)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)***

Edmund Pevensie (Narnia)

Eggsy Unwin (Kingsman)**

Elizabeth Bloodmere (O Positive)***

Ella (Ella Enchanted)

Elliott (Stardew Valley)**

Emma Swan (Once Upon a Time)

Emmet Cullen (Twilight)*

Erica (My Babysitter’s A Vampire)

Erik Lehnsherr (X-Men)

Ethan Morgan (My Babysitter’s A Vampire)

Evelyn Jackson-Alexander (The Invitation)**

Evie (Disney Descendants)*

Faiya (Recensere)***

Farkas (Skyrim)*

Felix (Once Upon a Time)***

Finn (Star Wars)***

Finnigan O’Floinn (Recensere)***

Fiyero (Wicked)

Flower (Ghosts US)

Fred (Big Hero 6)

Fred Jones (Scooby-Doo)

Fred Weasley (Harry Potter)*

Fridge (Jumanji)

Frodo Baggins (Lord of the Rings)

Gally (The Maze Runner)*

Gamora (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Genie (Aladdin)

George Weasley (Harry Potter)***

Gil (Disney Descendants)**

Gilgamesh (MCU)*

Ginger Williams (L.O.S.T. and F.O.U.N.D.)***

Groot (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Gwen Stacy (Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse)

Gwen Tennyson (Ben 10 Alien Force)*

Haku (Spirited Away)**

Hank McCoy/Beast (X-Men)***

Harley Quinn (DCEU)*

Harry Hook (Disney Descendants) 

Hellboy (Hellboy)

Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time)* 

Henry Smith (Recensere)***

Hetty Woodstone (Ghosts US)*

Holt Hyde (Monster High)**

Honey Lemon (Big Hero 6)*

Humphrey Bone (Ghosts UK)*

Jack Ellis (O Positive)***

Jack Frost (Rise of the Guardians)* 

James Diamond (Big Time Rush)***

James Proudstar/Warpath (X-Men: Days of Future Past)**

Jasmine (Aladdin)

Jay (Disney Descendants)**

Jean Grey (X-Men)

Jedediah Smith (Night at the Museum)**

Jefferson Jackson (Legends of Tomorrow)

Jemma Simmons (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)

John Allerdyce (X-Men)

John Proudstar/Thunderbird (The Gifted) ***

Johnathan Byers (Stranger Things)

Johnny Storm (Fantastic Four)

Jubilee (X-Men)

Justin Russo (Wizards of Waverly Place)

Kairi (Kingdom Hearts)

Katherine Pierce ( The Vampire Diaries)

Kendall Knight (Big Time Rush)**

Kevin Levin (Ben 10 Alien Force)***

Kili (The Hobbit)***

Killian Jones/Captain Hook (Once Upon a Time)**

Kingo (MCU)*

Kitty Pryde (X-Men)

Klaus Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy)*

Klaus Mikaelson (The Vampire Diaries)

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler (X-Men)***

Lagoona Blue (Monster High)

Legolas (Lord of the Rings)

Leopold Fitz (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)

Linden (Barbie Fairytopia: Magic of the Rainbow)

Logan Mitchell (Big Time Rush)*

Loki (MCU)

Lorna Dane/Polaris (The Gifted)*

Lucy Billington ( The Invitation)**

Lucy Stone (Big Time Rush)

Luke (Halloweentown)***

Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter)*

Luther Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy)

Makkari (MCU)**

Mal (Disney Descendants)

Mantis (MCU)

Marc Spector (Moon Knight)*

Marcurio (Skyrim)

Marnie Cromwell (Halloweentown)**

Martha (Jumanji)

Marty McFly (Back to the Future)***

Mason Greyback (Wizards of Waverly Place)***

Melinda May (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)

Mia Crane (L.O.S.T. and F.O.U.N.D.)***

Minho (The Maze Runner)

MJ (MCU) 

Mobius M. Mobius (Loki)*

Moss (Recensere)***

Nancy Wheeler (Stranger Things)*

Natalia Ivanov (L.O.S.T. and F.O.U.N.D.)***

Natasha Romanov (The Avengers)

Ned (MCU)*

Negasonic Teenage Warhead (Deadpool)*

Neville Longbottom (Harry Potter)

Newt (The Maze Runner)

Nod (Epic)***

Octavius (Night at the Museum)

Oliver Wood (Harry Potter)

Onmund (Skyrim)**

Ororo Munroe (X-Men)

Peeta Mellark (The Hunger Games)

Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson; Logan Lerman only)

Peter Maximoff (X-Men)

Peter Pan (Once Upon a Time)**

Peter Parker (MCU; Andrew and Tom)

Peter Pevensie (Narnia)

Phastos (MCU)*

Phil Coulson (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)

Pietro Maximoff (Avengers: Age of Ultron)***

Poe Dameron (Star Wars)**

Pre-Serum Steve Rogers (Captain America: The First Avenger)* 

Prince Adam/Beast (Beauty and the Beast)

Prince Nalu (Barbie Mermaidia)

Prince Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender)***

R (Warm Bodies)

Raven (Teen Titans)***

Reed Richards (Fantastic Four)

Regina Mills (Once Upon a Time)***

Rey (Star Wars)

Rick Flag (Suicide Squad)*

Riku (Kingdom Hearts)***

Robin (Stranger Things)

Robin (Teen Titans)

Rodrick Heffley (Diary of a Wimpy Kid) 

Rogue (X-Men)

Roman (Star-Crossed)***

Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)*

Sam Wilson (MCU)

Sarah (My Babysitter’s A Vampire)

Sasappis (Ghosts US)**

Scott Lang (The Avengers)

Scott Summers/Cyclops (X-Men)*

Serana (Skyrim)***

Sersi (MCU)

Seth Clearwater (Twilight)***

Shaggy (Scooby-Doo)***

Shang-Chi/Shaun (MCU)***

Shuri (Black Panther)

Slannen the Elf (Ella Enchanted)

Sokka (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Sora (Kingdom Hearts)*

Spark (Pokemon Go)

Starfire (Teen Titans)

Stefan Salvatore (The Vampire Diaries)

Steve Harrington (Stranger Things)*** Steve Rogers (MCU)**

Steven Grant (Moon Knight)***

Summer Laurence (L.O.S.T. and F.O.U.N.D.)***

T’Challa (MCU)

Tadashi Hamada (Big Hero 6)*

Tanya (Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again)

Thackery Binx (Hocus Pocus)* 

The Nutcracker/Prince Eric (Barbie in the Nutcracker)*

Thena (MCU)*

Thomas Thorne (Ghosts UK)**

Thor (MCU)

Thorfinn (Ghosts US)***

Trevor Lefkowitz (Ghosts US)*

Tumnus (Narnia)

TVA!Loki (Loki)**

Tyson (Percy Jackson Movieverse)* 

Uma (Disney Descendants)

Valkyrie (MCU)

Velma (Scooby-Doo)*

Viktor Ivanov (L.O.S.T. and F.O.U.N.D.)***

Viktor Krum (Harry Potter)**

Viktoria Clopstock (The Invitation)**

Vilkas (Skyrim)

Vision (MCU)**

Wade Wilson/Deadpool (Deadpool)

Walter De Ville (The Invitation)***

Wanda Maximoff (MCU)***

Warren Peace (Sky High) *

Warren Worthington III/Angel (X-Men)***

Wasabi (Big Hero 6)**

Willa Lykensen (Zombies)*

Wyatt Lykensen (Zombies)***

Xialing (MCU)*

Xion (Kingdom Hearts)

Yelena Belova (Black Widow)**

Zack (Goosebumps)*

Zed Necrodopolis (Zombies)**

#character list #updated character list

[flamestoillusions]

I made this a while ago that was supposed to follow a list of some ships the duo have on this blog. It’s mainly over possible relationships with canon characters from the game they’re based in. A lot are AU based because for a decent amount of them, they don’t have enough time with these characters to develop a relationship or it’s under certain circumstances it stands a chance. 

Rune/Maya - Maya, at least by my writing, has a one-sided crush on Rune and he likes her well enough. She’s the main person at his side in the prologue and they can geek out over books and stuff. Only really happened in Librarian/Barista AU where Rune flirts with her via writings on her cups and leaving notes in books to be put away.

Tannim/Tomix - Tomix is one of the first people Tannim met on his venture on his own. And as the person that called Tannim out for ignoring his own well-being and the one that did a hard no on changing something so fundamental in his being...Tannim has so much respect for him. And he likes Tomix in his actual adventures, not just any shenanigans I do on the blog. The Tomix saga was so important, I wrecked my plans for book 3 because it was that important for Tannim to be present for that. There’s a reason why he put it as why he can’t sleep at night.

Rune/Zhoom - I am very wary to place them as a relationship. They have sassed each other and have grown to respect the other. Zhoom is Rune’s mentor as a ranger but good god, I’d be lying if they hadn’t blurred lines every so often. Both would easily say that the other’s attractive but neither are interested in anything serious. Friends with benefits on occasion but mainly a reliable hand for bounties and quests.

Tannim/Galanoth - Okay this is only due to a lot of talk with Syn over it. Galanoth slays dragons in more ways than one. It is definitely mainly for AU things such as arranged marriage AU and Tannim being tortured by the Rose then cared for by Gal AU. Pretty much, Galanoth gets all of Tannim’s sweet affection poured on him and Galanoth is just one of those ones that is Tannim’s type, even if he doesn’t know what that is.

Rune/Demento - They were a decent duo when it came to planning and dealing on the battlefield. In some aspects Demento’s the one that got away and even then we don’t know how they’d work out. But it’s a minor thing Rune feels a bit guilty for not taking Demento up on an offer the night before his death.

Tannim/Xan - Can be a ship but I wouldn’t mind if it stayed broship. Xan broke protocol when he saw how genuinely freaked out Tannim was by fire. He calmed him down and started Tannim’s conquering of his fear. Tannim was sent back during the Alexander saga and befriended Alex then. And since they oddly are friends despite being on opposite sides. He actually never advocates anything bad to come down on Xan, even if his fellow adventurers do not share the same sentiment.

Tannim/Serenity - Only in two circumstances: where Tannim was turned to a vampire (long story) and in the AU where Rune’s soul was obliterated in order to destroy the Mysterious Stranger. For the most part, I think it’d be a broship otherwise. But in the cases where they’re together, they’d be like...everyone’s parents. Together. Oh god.

Rune/Lugosi - It was a crack ship that was logical. It was totally some anon’s fault too. I challenged to give me any character with mine and I could make a legitimate thing from it. And I didn’t dislike this one? Lugosi had a crush on Rune when he went by Noita and only fell back into the crush meeting Rune. Rune wasn’t interested because well, he’s not that into smithing and he can only tolerate cowardice. Because Rune tells him pretty much to work on himself first, Lugosi tried. Then he got turned and his acceptance and conquering of his turning (with Safiria’s encouragement) got Rune’s attention.

Rune/Sepulchure - Please let them remain in a blackrom so that they never conquer the world. They don’t inherently dislike each other. They dislike one getting a leg up over them but are rather impressed with the other’s prowess. Based on relations, they have met prior to Book 1. Rune’s grandfather was Valen’s mentor and cared for the kid. So while it was only as many visits as you can count on your hands, they were fin. It’s mainly AU stuff such as Rune having an affair with Sepulchure during the events of the Orb Saga or where Tannim was a traitor out to take all of Greengaurd for himself that they’ve happened.

Tannim/Sepulchure - There’s a certain OT3 with Serenity that came apart because of SOMEONE’S suggestion. It spiraled out of control quickly. There’s also the rare AUs where Tannim took more after his father’s side of the family and in a ‘rivalry’ with Sepulchure. Like more chill than yandere but definitely wants to maintain Seppy’s attention. And also...others...I blame Syn for the sin behind that one.

Amal/Drakath - Because I feel like Rune would NEVER be a decent pair with Drakath...but with ONE AU this came about. Pretty much in a scenario where Rune and his brother grew up and was friends with Drakath. Amal is somewhat aware of his feelings but Drakath is playing dumb and denying it to the end. And Amal’s just unapologetically a shit to Drakath but does ultimately care about him. He lies to his friends and allies and makes up various excuses just to get Drakath through. And then he just sometimes just hangs out at the bandit camp just because he can hang out with Drakath. 

Rune/Circe - Canonically, they kinda dislike each other. I mean, almost killing you with an avalanche tends to put a damper on any relationship. However at the same time, I think they would have been fine. Not exactly a relationship that’s ‘end game’ but they were on weird limbo between physical and something further. This only gets put into spotlight were the partners-in-crime AU and the AU where Rune is a rebel leader that Circe attempted to assassinate. I honestly prefer them in a poly with Vaal. 

Tannim/Wargoth - You know who the fuck you are and you all who encouraged this should be ashamed. I say as this such a guilty pleasure. I know it’s bad because this a homicidal warlord with a sweet summer child that does not deserve this. I know this. There’s nothing much to say about it other than it was from shenanigans on the blog for a plot point that may or may not still be in my timeline. I still have to acknowledge it because Amaterasu exists and she’s adorable.

Rune/Vaal - I debate about if this would be canon or not. As if it was, it’d fall in Book 3. They actually get into snark about both being disgraced by this time. Developments with them usually surmount to ‘I don’t like you but then I see this other side to you that I have to respect you now.’ Mainly a thing in the neighbors AU and the royal advisers AU and fall apart because Roirr’s a fucking cockblocker. I also prefer them with Circe as well.

Amal/Valencia - By the duo’s timeline, Amal and Valencia do date. He met her while exploring the Ruins of Sil. He calls her a thief rather than a treasure hunter and is corny as hell saying how she steals his heart. And it’s a lot of corniness and adventure with them. But I mainly deal in the sad because canonically, Amal is dead and Valencia never learned of his fate. Rune only figured out Valencia was who his brother was dating during the Earth Orb saga and breaking the news to her at that time was not the best idea.

Rune/Theano - I tell myself that Rune will stop fucking the bad guy eventually. And then it happens again. Good god, man, where are you priorities? Anyway, there’s nothing but fighting with this one. Although I guess it could end up being a battle of wits/ideals as Theano is something of a scientist of magic and Rune is a magic wielder that understands principles behind the magic. But I feel any moment of ‘sweet’ is immediately ruined when either open their mouth. I...I have also a weird sort of poly including Rune’s ex, Emile, because apparently my characters don’t suffer enough.

Tannim/Falwynn - They’re just so adorable. Like I guess they’d fall under cliches of the lovey dovey type of couple to which, what’s wrong with that? They’re both excitable and well-intentioned adventurers and I find that their sweet energy would just end up mixing so well. I found an unintentional drama that comes with Falwynn supposed to be learning from the Hero in game (which Tannim serves as) and just how much danger that Tannim would willing put Falwynn through if he’s dating her. While they could be in actual events, I also think of them in modern verses taking a lot of selfies together and stuff.

Rune/Nythera: Only for the Young Fables AU. Rune is supposed to be Aqualad and Nythera Speedy. They actually work out as like the most mature of the bunch and have a hold on each other’s secrets. And it’s like, ‘hey, you had a shitty day, wanna help me on case?’

#long post #smoketomirrors #dragon of the valley #secret hunter #relations