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#i'm attempting to clear out some cobwebs with this one
callsignmarz · 3 months
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‼️MDNI‼️ - Keegan P. Russ x Y/N | Fem
“Claim Me.”
"Just grow a pair and go talk to him." Keegan insisted, slamming the door to a humvee, clearly checked out from the conversation.
"That's not how nature works, Keegan." You riposted, turning your attention back to Logan, who was currently across the motor pool, chatting to a few other soldiers.
It was no secret that you had a little crush on Logan Walker.
Whenever he was in the area, you felt like a teenager again with her first school crush. Just the sight of him made your cheeks flush a light shade of pink and your knees ready to buckle. And If Keegan had to sit and listen to how fine of a man Logan was one more time, he swore to himself that he will end it all, right then and there.
"Besides, I'd rather just...you know, let things...happen..? Yeah. Let's just go with that."
Keegan raises an eyebrow, shaking his head, unconvinced by your sad attempted claim.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Keegan makes his way over to the mobile toolbox that you've been leaning on for the past half hour — instead of helping him like he asked you in the first place.
Sensing you needed a little help in the love department, out of the kindness of his cold grinch heart, he gives you some words of advice.
"Standing on the sidelines isn't going to get you far, y/n. A man likes it when a woman takes charge. It's hot as fuck, actually." Keegan galled, giving you a friendly wink. He obnoxiously clicks a pen that he had tucked behind his ear and retrieves the clipboard next to your elbow, scribbling down the required maintenance notes.
He had a point though.
But you would never admit that, especially with how vulgar he put it.
So, you just roll your eyes in protest. "Is that so? Then tell me this. Since when did you become such a 'Love Guru?' Last time I checked, you still had trouble finding yourself a girlfriend." You implored the 'notorious' ladies man.
He hands you the clipboard and you promptly grab ahold of it. You watch him lift up the hood of the truck with one arm as if it weighed nothing.
Why did anything he did always had to be so..?
"That's where you're wrong, Sweetheart. I'm not looking for a girlfriend. Just looking for a good time." He chuckles dryly.
"You're vile." Your face contorts in disgust, but he just shrugs off your jab.
"I've been called worst, Sweetheart."
The sound of a boot scuffling against the gravel, pulls your attention away for a moment and your heart flutters when you realize Logan was standing a few feet beside you.
Okay. Act normal, Y/N...what the fuck is normal!?
"What's up, kid?" Keegan greets cooly, snapping you out of your head.
Tearing himself away from the vehicle, Keegan and Logan clasps their hands together, briefly pulling each other in, bumping shoulders before releasing one another.
"Let me guess, causing trouble?" Keegan quipped as he folded his arms across his chest.
Logan gives a friendly smile, his voice came out a smooth baritone, "Always." He flicks his gaze to you, with eyes now wide and mouth agape with incredulity.
"Who's your friend, Russ?" Logan asks as he gives you a once-over look, intrigued and wondering why he hasn't seen you before.
"This is y/n. She more of a thorn in my ass than a friend." Keegan half-jokingly introduces while giving you a look that says 'Now's your chance.'
Clearing your throat of all the cobwebs that formed within the few minutes, you extend your right hand as you give him a quick run down, "Sergeant Y/N L/N, PCS'd from Fort Wainwright about a month or two ago." Logan listens intently, taking ahold your hand with a firm grip and a surge electricity to shoots through your body.
"Pleasure to meet you, Sarge. Alaska must've been one hell of an experience." He mused with his dark caramel eyes locked in on yours. Slowly, Logan lets go of your hand, but purposely allows his touch to linger.
"I'm surprised you didn't go AWOL." He chorkles.
Slightly shrugging your shoulder and batting your lashes, you pick up on his subtle cues.
"There were days where I was tempted to, but I'm pretty good at being on the straight and narrow." You say coy-like with a smile that matched your tone.
"Good, good. But, hey! I actually have to get going, but uh...You should stop by later tonight and we can finish up this conversation. What do you say?" Logan asks with a quizzical smile, his teeth were pearly white and straight, just the way you like them.
Your mouth gaps open slightly, surprised by how fast everything was moving. You almost pinch yourself to make sure you weren't in a dream but the look from Keegan was an obvious indication this was no dream. Far from, actually.
"Uh, y-yeah. I don't mind." You finally answered.
"Cool...See you then, y/n."
With that, Logan walks off with your eyes following him until he's no longer in sight. You then whip around, almost tripping over your own feet, turning to Keegan and exploding with screeches of excitement.
"Did that actually happen!?" You squeal, rushing over to vigorously shake Keegan's shoulder.
Swatting your hands away, Keegan keeps his eyes forward as he tick in his jaw serves as a seedling of jealously that grew and bloomed a vibrant sprig of green.
"Yes. Now can I get back to work?" He sneers in frustration, retreating his focus back to the engine of the truck.
⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆
As painful as it was to your ego, you take Keegan's advice and with newfound determination eddied in your irises, you come up with an idea.
A man likes when a girl takes charge.
Keegan's voice resounds in your head. The heedful reminder causes your eyes to roll into the back of the your skull. Then your attention shifts back to your reflection. Surveying your outfit one last time as you twist and pose your body in the mirror making sure you were up to par.
Adjusting your black crop top so it flattered your boobs and the ripped up mom-jeans you wore were loose but they hugged you curves just enough to accentuate the roundness of your ass.
And underneath...a matching set of magenta laced lingerie.
There was no way you were not getting laid.
It was a quarter until midnight. The plan was you were going to sneak into Logan's room undetected and surprise him in his bed.
As crazy as it sounds — it was foolproof.
Like, what man wouldn't dream of a woman, as feral as you were, crawling into their bed in the middle of the night?
Right?
After applying the last layer of your clear lemon flavored lipgloss, you roll your plumped lips together followed by a loud suckered pop and you set out on your mission, making a swift exit out the door.
Approaching his quarters, you had to move quickly and quietly. You discreetly reach into your bra and redeemed a simple black bobby-pin.
Good ole reliable.
Throughout the years you've served in the military, you were taught a lot of different things. Tactical insertion being one of them. You knew how to breach any area. From battering rams to hacking security systems but, none that required something so mundane as a hair accessory.
While you expertly pick the lock, you kept your head on a swivel, making sure no one spots you committing this heinous act.
Once you hear the audible click, the corners of your mouth lifted into a confident smile.
Getting up to your feet, you casually make entry.
First thing you noticed was the overpowering smell of cedar wood. Coughing up a lung, you came to the conclusion that the air quality in here was 99.9 percent cologne and that last .1 being oxygen.
Getting past that, it was also rather dark.
Carefully waving your hand around, you try your best not to crash into anything. Eventually, you find yourself bumping into his bedpost, startling Logan out of his sleep and the same familiar baritone voice calls out in surprise, "What the fu—Y/n?"
"Wait! Shh...Just listen, please!" You say right away, hoping it'll calm him down.
"I know this is a bit crazy but just...listen. Okay? I've had a crush on you for a while now and I don't want to blend in with the other girls. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is," You swallow hard, your tone drops to barely a whisper, rolling your lips together as you crawled your way into his bed.
"Just let it happen."
In the dark, your lips find his, silencing any doubt or apprehension from leaving his mouth. A bolt of electricity shoots throughout your body, awakening the longing desire within you.
Not only was he surprised by your assertiveness but it came as a shock to you as well. Being an introvert, you wouldn't have guessed in a million years that you would've be the one to make the first move — all thanks to Keegan.
Logan's lips end up prying your lips apart, deepening the kiss with his tongue, ravishingly exploring your mouth and eliciting soft moans to muffle out as your mouth moves in sync with his.
His rough hands snake their way to your waist before hauling you over onto of him.
Your breath hitches when he breaks away from the kiss and his nose creeps up alongside your throat. Once he finds the most sensitive spot, his mouth latches onto your skin, nipping and sucking until little plum colored splotches decorate your neck.
The two of you wasted no time tearing the clothes off each other. The lingerie you wore for show, unfortunately went unnoticed as it was discarded just like the rest of your wardrobe.
You felt a firm grip on your left breast, before you were greeted by the warmth of his mouth. Not only did Logan have a pretty smile, but he knew what to do with it as his tongue swirled and his teeth gently gnawed on your erect nipple.
A symphony of orchestral moans filled the room.
The sexual connection and burning passion between you two was undeniable.
It was as if this moment was supposed to happen.
As if the two of you were meant to come together and become one.
A dream verging to come true.
Digging your nails into his back, you align him up against you seeping cunt, slowly slipping his swollen cock inside. A small whine of pleasure leaves your lips as you allow your slick walls to accommodate and adjust to his size.
"Ride me, beautiful." He rasped, his tone dripping with ascendancy and urgency.
Like flipping a switch, your back arches, rolling your hips and taking your time descending down only to spring back up when you couldn't fit any more of him.
His size was impeccable.
Your ex wasn't even close to the size and length that Logan held and from the one night stands you've had in the past, they could barely last two whole minutes.
You were in for one hell of a joy ride.
Logan's hand creeps its way from your navel, up and between your breasts to wrap around your throat accordingly.
Taking back control, he bucks his hips, crashing them underneath your thighs, barbarously driving himself deeper into your tight pussy. With your hands on his chest, you prop yourself to hover your ass over him as he kept his unwavering assault.
"Yes, yes, yes! God fuckin—Please don't stop." You whine breathlessly.
"Does the princess want to cum all over my cock?Mmm...such a needy little whore, you are..." He growls, his tone edging you closer to unraveling.
Your body felt as though God sent an angel down just to solemnly fulfill your sinful needs, relieving you of your last unholy act, right before your soul ascends to the heaven's gates.
Delirium intoxicates and overwhelms your senses, clenching your silky walls around his otherworldly cock, urging him to spill his load inside.
"Keep it coming and drown my cock. Fuck...I'm about to cum...Say my name, baby." He grits through his teeth, his thrust becoming more erratic by the second.
As your moans grow louder, your body quivers, riding the wave of your own insatiable orgasm.
"Oh God, Yes! Logan!" You screamed his name.
Your lips collided with his own as he lets out a deep groan. The heat of his load erupts and pulsated deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim. You slide off of him, allowing the contents to pour out of you. The two of you pant and gasp for air, coming down from the euphoric high of your releases while your bodies entangled together.
If you had to be honest, he was more than good, probably the best sex you've ever had.
Silence fills the void with the lingering scent of sex in the air.
Without saying a word, Logan sits up, detangling from your arms and walks out of the room then returns with a towel in hand.
Your eyes strain trying to make out his features as an unsettling tension builds between you two.
"Lo—" You say faintly, making an effort to comfort him.
However he sharply cuts you off, "Lemme stop you right there." His tone dripping with grimness.
Your face twists, utterly confused, watching his dark silhouette walk over to a drawer, pulling out a pair of sweats to slip in.
"I was bound to break it to you one way or another." He says sardonically, scuffling his way across the room, flicking on the light and blurring your vision temporarily until it steadily returns to adjust to your surroundings.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Sweetheart. But unfortunately I'm not your knight and shining armor." He says with a disdained sniff.
Your mouth flops open, struggling to form any sentence, but ultimately one phrase rolls off your tongue.
"What the fuck..."
The .1 percent of oxygen left in the air was sucked out the room completely, leaving you to suffocate on the distressed revelation.
The love story you'd hope for came crashing down hard. Once again, he was right about one thing...
He was no Prince Charming.
He was Keegan motherfucking Russ..
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blondeboyfriend · 3 months
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𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (𝟏𝟖+)
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𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈
[ PAIRING ] Hyakunosuke Ogata x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This fic is @dolcezzzza's summer horror event, The Cabin! The title comes a Dum Dum Girls song which got its name from A Season in Hell by shitlord poet, Arthur Rimbaud. I'm not a fan, but each section of the fic starts with a line from his poem bc some of his prose kinda slaps. [ SYNOPSIS ] The summer camp you're working at is being terrorized by a unseen force that is picking off your fellow counselors one by one. [ WORD COUNT ] 15.3k [ CONTENT ] DARK CONTENT, cliche summer camp slasher film AU, murder/character death, gore, alcohol (binge drinking), suicide, vaginal sex, size kink (his dick is girthy okay), strength kink, oral sex, rough sex, facefucking, exhibitionism, biting.
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Baptism enslaved me
The past week had been a blur. You spent seven days running around in the heat, trying to make an inhospitable boy scout camp into something inspired. Breaking it in was your duty as your group was the first of the season. The trappings of a long, snowy winter and a violently wet spring lingered around the facilities. Your arms ached from clearing out fallen branches and musty piles of decayed leaves. Your clothes were constantly mottled with cobwebs and dust. Every night when you collapsed in your twin-sized cot you debated on running through the woods towards the highway seeking salvation in the form of a kind motorist.
That’s why you hoped you would spend your last child free morning in the comfort of your cabin. And yet there you sat, listening to the camp director droned on. You melted in the midday sun with your back against a tree, a pitiful attempt to shelter yourself under its leaves.
“I’m gonna die out here,” Shiraishi, your partner for the summer, moaned.
He too was slumped by the tree, his head hanging down limply. You flicked him in the shoulder with your thumb and forefinger.
“You can’t die. Mr. Tsurumi still hasn’t told us what group we have,” you whispered.
“I think you can handle them on your own.”
Sugimoto turned his attention towards the two of you. His cheeks flushed from sitting in the sun. He didn’t seem to mind bathing in its rays.
“Can you at least pretend to pay attention like me?”
His words barely registered. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. A dusting of tan freckles spread across the bridge of his nose, elevating his boyish looks. He was the only one who got cuter after a week of hard labor.
“Sure,” you said, mind still occupied with the slope of his nose.
“Unfortunately our lead counselor will not be joining us for the first couple days of camp.” The director wiped sweat away from his brow. “I’m sure all of you have heard about Yūsaku’s unfortunate… situation.”
“We heard alright,” Usami snickered.
Yūsaku had forgotten to reapply sunscreen and got scorched from head-to-toe. The golden boy’s pained groans persisted through the night as everyone attempted to sleep. Yellow blisters ballooned on his skin, marring his pristine complexion. You tried your best not to think about his affliction.
“But I know we will persevere in his absence. I have high hopes for this summer. Let’s make it a good one.” He smiled warmly. “The campers will be arriving in two hours. Your coordinators, Mr. Koito and Mr. Tsukishima, will have your rosters and itineraries for the week.”
Tsurumi said his goodbyes and strided away to his quarters. You stood up slowly, stretching your arms above your head.
“I feel… like we’re missing people,” you said, twisting your waist. “Where’s your partner?”
Sugimoto looked around and shrugged. He was paired with Ogata, easily one of the most enigmatic people you knew.
“Well there’s Tanigaki,” Shiraishi yawned. “Inkarmat’s with him too.”
Tanigaki’s burly form crested the hill. He looked ashamed, like a puppy three seconds from getting kicked down the stairs. Inkarmat followed close behind with a cooler expression. She looked refreshed and practically glowed.
“Did we miss anything important?”
Sugimoto looked at him with big, sad, wet eyes and sniffled. “Camp got canceled. We’re getting sent home with no pay.”
“And it’s all your fault, like specifically yours,” you said with a glare.
Shiraishi mirrored your expression. “Mr. Tsurumi said your name.”
Tanigaki’s eyes briefly widened before adopting a more stern state. You knew he bought it for a millisecond.
“Am I in trouble for anything?” Inkarmat asked, laughing. She was unflappable.
“No. You’re not being held accountable,” you replied.
“Just in time for Women’s History Month,” Shiraishi added cooly.
It was June and the last time you checked Women’s History Month was in March. Inkarmat snickered and grabbed Vasily by the wrist, dragging him off towards the mess hall. The idea of going inside sounded practically orgasmic. There was zero chance you could comprehend what activities were planned for the day if sweat continued to drip down your spine all the way to the crack of your ass.
“Let’s get our shit and go, like, sit down somewhere,” you said, tone somewhat urgent.
Shiraishi nodded in agreement and offered to deal with the coordinators. He could tell you were in no position to talk to upper management. You decided to wait rather than go off on your own even though your impatience was on the verge of having a body count. Luckily neither Mr. Koito or Mr. Tsukishima seemed particularly interested in speaking to him, or any of the counselors for that matter. You were so relieved 
There was a collective sigh of relief once you reached the shade. You scanned your roster, familiarizing yourself with the names listed.
“Archery on Wednesday?” Sugimoto said, voice slightly concerned. “That sounds cool, but should we really be giving kids arrows?”
“What?! We don’t have archery. We have knife throwing. Well that explains all the knives…”
“That’s not all we’re doing is it?” you asked.
“One day we’re dissecting owl pellets—Oh wait, there’s archery.”
“Do you guys have judo on Tuesday?” Sugimoto asked hopefully.
“Yeah,” Shiraishi affirmed. “And then we have Russian immersion right after.”
“Russian immersion?” you asked.
“You know, the language,” Shiraishi clarified albeit for no reason as both you and Sugimoto knew Russian was in fact a language.
“We’re doing that too,” Sugimoto said, yawning. “And wagashi making.”
Other activities listed were: friendship bracelet making and various types of yarn-based projects, mushroom hunting, canoeing, swimming, hiking and giant shogi.
Peace had fallen over the three of you. All you could hear was lilting bird calls and a burbling stream. Just as you had grown accustomed to the wondrous sounds of nature, you heard the crushing of twigs and dry leaves.
“It’s a bear,” Shiraishi whispered.
“There are no bears around here,” you said.
“Even if there were bears, Mr. Tsurumi has a shotgun in his cabin,” Sugimoto chirped.
Shiraishi sighed in exasperation. “Great because that’ll definitely save us right now from getting eaten alive.”
Despite there being a lack of bears in the area every hair on your body bristled. What if you all fell victim to a vicious wild boar attack? You weren’t even sure if wild boars inhabited the area either, but logic didn’t matter. All you knew was you didn’t want to die at camp. You didn’t want to have your flesh ripped from your body by an overgrown, ugly hog or any animal to be honest. You were too young; there was so much you wanted to do in life, so much you needed to accomplish.
“Oh. It’s just Ogata,” Shiraishi said.
Sugimoto’s co-counselor emerged from the redwoods, his expression blank and unreadable. He didn’t react to Shiraishi saying his name. It was if he intended on strolling past without saying a word. Usually you found this type of behavior tiresome and obnoxious, but he made it alluring and charming in an absurd sort of way.
“Where are you going?” Sugimoto asked.
“To camp.”
Sugimoto went to speak, but you butted in.
“You should come sit with us! We got our schedules and everything! ” you blurted out.
Your face was burning. You assumed you would’ve been smoother with your approach. Your fumble didn’t seem to phase Ogata as he took a seat right next to you, leaving zero space in between. Sugimoto was left alone on the other side of the picnic table.
“Did I miss anything important?” he asked.
Sugimoto wordlessly slid their group’s information across the table. Ogata looked it over. 
“Mushroom hunting,” Ogata muttered as he ran his hand over his undercut, trying to smooth down a rogue lock of hair. “Hm. We’ll have to make sure the kids don’t pick anything toxic.”
Shiraishi groaned. “I figured everything out there would be safe to eat.”
“Wh—what do you mean out there? It’s the woods. Do you think Mr. Tsurumi combed through the entirety of it to make sure every little growth out there isn’t toxic?” you asked.
You found yourself compelled to say as many words as possible to make your presence known even if it was at the expense of your partner. It was shameful, but it was an unstoppable compulsion. Ogata’s presence implored you to take up more space. You laughed louder than you normally would. You smiled when your expression would otherwise be one of indifference. You said the things you would otherwise be too lazy to. Anything to get his attention even if just for a passing moment.
Ogata chuckled and your heart sang.
“I don’t know! Now we’re gonna have to watch them like hawks.”
“Our job is to supervise them,” Sugimoto chided.
“Excuse me for not wanting to do my job,” your partner grumbled.
You wondered how feasible it would be to get assigned a new co-counselor. Shiraishi wasn’t unlikable; you got along well enough. But you had a feeling most of the heavy lifting would fall on you.
Shiraishi rested his chin on his hand. “I just hope our kids aren’t assholes.”
“They will be. That’s just how kids are,” you laughed.
“Not if you scare them into submission.”
“Nope. Not happening. Not a chance,” Sugimoto said, demolishing Ogata’s suggestion.
“As long as we all set expectations early it shouldn’t be too bad. They just need to know what to expect from us. Kids are sedated by consistency.”
“Sedated?” Ogata asked with a smirk.
His voice, rich and gruff, reverberated throughout your body. It seeped through your skin, deep into your bones, saturating your thoughts with unseemly things. Your eyes went to his hands, something you always found attractive, only to be mildly disgusted by his dirty fingernails. 
You tried to shake it off. “Domesticated. Placated. Basically they won’t act like monsters.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied coolly.
“We should start getting ready,” Sugimoto said.
“I guess,” Shiraishi yawned.
You slapped him on the back. “You can’t be tired yet.”
Your partner whined that he was within his right to be tired which didn’t matter one way or another to you. It was going to be a long day; you could feel it. But not all hope was lost. If you were able to get within close range of Ogata it would be more than worth it.
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The horror of my stupidity
The first day went perfectly. Your group consisted of six rambunctious, but generally well-behaved ten-year-olds. Shiraishi managed to overcome his lackadaisical leanings and took a hands-on role, but still deferred to you. You didn’t mind leading so long as he wrangled the more unruly kids. His commitment set you at ease.
The next morning was a quiet one. The kids were usually placid at first. Their cautiousness proved useful while foraging for mushrooms. They kept their hands to themselves and none of them ate anything deadly. The only unsettling thing was Tsurumi’s gleeful reaction whenever a destroying angel popped up.
“Mr. Tsurumi, would you poop your pants if you ate one?” a camper asked thoughtfully.
His dark eyes lit up and he gave the child a toothy grin.
“Why yes! Diarrhea and excruciating cramps are the first symptoms of alpha-Amanitin poisoning.”
Another camper pointed out what they thought was a wild carrot only to be told by an ecstatic Tsurumi that it was actually hemlock. The kids were riveted as he detailed the horrific symptoms of hemlock poisoning. Their horrified gasps when he told them there was no antidote seemed to thrill him.
Upon returning to camp it became clear that all was not well. Shiraishi was the first to notice the white sheet draped over a humanoid shape. It was partially obscured by one of the cabins. Tsurumi’s jovial facade gave way to flat expression and he sprinted off towards the disturbing scene.
“Hey,” you whispered, tapping Sugimoto on the shoulder. “Can you guys take the kids? I’m, uh, gonna be nosy.”
Your partner stood erect beside you. “Me too.”
“No,” you hissed. Shiraishi didn’t budge. “Someone has to be with our group.”
“Why not you then?”
“Be—because I was… I was… okay. Listen—”
“It’s fine. I got it,” Sugimoto sighed. “I wanna know all the details though. If you skimp, I’ll never forgive either of you.”
Ogata cleared his throat. He herded the campers away from whatever was shrouded under the white sheet. They were all clamoring around him, wondering when they’d get to eat fruit snacks. One was crawling up his leg and another was attempting to tie his shoes together. It made your stomach flutter seeing him be so patient with them.
Sugimoto took the hint and headed towards his partner and the gaggle of children, but he stopped midway to reiterate that he wanted all the details much to Ogata’s annoyance.
Once they were out of sight you and Shiraishi crept closer to and saw Nurse Kano kneeling beside what you assumed was a corpse. She lifted the sheet and studied what was under it, her expression a twisted combination of enthrallment and disgust. She stood up slowly.
“He’s dead.”
“We should call the paramedics then,” Tsukishima said.
Koito looked perplexed. “But he’s already dead. Shouldn’t we call the coroner?”
“You can’t just call up the coroner,” Tsukishima sighed.
Tsurumi squatted by the body and lifted the sheet. The director’s curiosity gave you a perfect view.
It was Tanigaki. His face was pale, eyes wide and cloudy. His lips and chin were crusted over with banana yellow bile. A desperate cry got caught in your throat. You wanted to look away and go back to your kids. But you were frozen, lost in Tanigaki’s lifeless gaze.
“Tanigaki,” you croaked.
Tsurumi’s eyes darted in your direction before returning to Tanigaki’s body.
“Otonoshin, go call 9-1-1,” he said calmly.
Koito rushed off to make the call. Tsurumi lowered the sheet. You couldn’t believe that you’d never see Tanigaki again, that he was gone for good. You hadn’t known him long, but you grew very fond of him.
“He can’t… This isn’t happening…”
You struggled to find the words. Seeing the outline of his face under the sheet radiated a finality that ripped your soul from your body.
“I wonder what happened,” he mumbled as you both walked away. “He looked…”
“I—I can’t think about that right now. I don’t wanna think about that right now.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
You wiped your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. Let’s hike to the lake or something. I don’t know.”
There was a sense of relief when you spotted the campers. You couldn’t help but smile when they broke out into a cacophony of questions regarding your whereabouts. In the midst of the excitement one camper launched a fruit snack at Shiraishi’s eye.
“You pull something like that again and I’m sending you to Mr. Tsukishima,” Ogata rumbled.
“Anyway,” Shiraishi said. “Who wants to hike up to the lake? Maybe race some canoes?”
The campers cheered and bolted in the direction of Tanigaki’s body. You and Sugimoto chased after them but they scattered like roaches. You could only stop so many of them.
“Hey! Were any of you dismissed?!”
Ogata’s voice cut through them and they immediately made their way back, heads hanging. You hadn’t expected him to be so firm with the campers. He was kind of withdrawn around the other counselors, or at the very least opaque. He mostly kept to himself though his brother was usually fluttering around him. You felt like you barely knew Ogata despite spending time with him, whereas Shiraishi and his oversharing made him feel more like an old friend or a weird cousin. As frustrating as it was, the mysterious haze that obscured Ogata drew you in. You wanted to know more about him, to pry open his soul and study its contents.
“You all owe your counselors an apology.” Ogata’s sharp gaze turned to the kid that hit Shiraishi with a fruit snack. “You especially.”
The kid looked terrified and quickly mumbled an apology. The rest of the campers groaned “we’re sorry” in unison. With the apologies out of the way the four of you prepared them for their hike.
“Look! More hemlock!” one the kids exclaimed. She knelt beside the plant, her face inches from its toxic, white flowers.
“Don’t get too close to it,” Sugimoto said, his voice like that of a concerned mother.
You could barely focus, but the camper was in your group so you felt compelled to try. “Or just don’t go around it at all. Leave it alone.”
“I’m just looking!”
“Looking that close is enough to kill,” Ogata said over his shoulder. “If you inhale the fumes, you're dead.”
This seemed to quell any remnants of curiosity. The campers spent the rest of the hike spotting mushrooms and imitating Tsurumi’s passionate infodumping. The word “creepy” was thrown around liberally. You chastised them for being disrespectful, but you agreed. His behavior made you uncomfortable, especially in the wake of Tanigaki’s mysterious death.
The lake was calm, the serenity of the scene much needed.
“Look!” a camper called out.
You thought it was cute that they were just as pleased to see the lake as you were. However something was riling them up as they made their way down to the shore. Some ran right back up the hill. Their faces paled, their eyes ripe with fear. 
“Saichi, Saichi!!” one said, latching onto his arm. “Look!!”
Sugimoto crested the hill and looked down.
“Oh shit,” he said. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”
“Stop swearing around the kids,” Ogata sighed as he joined his co-counselor to survey the situation. “Shit.”
“What is it?” you and Shiraishi shouted.
“Everyone away from the lake!” Ogata called out.
The kids bounded up the hill and cowered beside you, clinging to you for comfort.
“You guys, what is it?” you repeated, patting a camper on the head. “Is it something gross?”
“You could say that,” one piped up.
Sugimoto and Ogata turned to face you, but they seemed unable to speak. You freed yourself from the kids and walked towards them. Your absence caused them to swarm Shiraishi.
“It’s a body!” one shrieked.
“Um, it’s a lady!” one replied in a bratty tone.
Each step felt heavier than the last. Your body was screaming for you to turn around, but you couldn’t. You felt sick to your stomach. Kids made up stories all the time. They played pranks. Maybe they were lying.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“Maybe she’s just sleeping.”
“What are you? Dumb? She’s dead!”
Their voices were all melding into one. Everything began to blur. You knew what was coming. You knew what you were going to see. And yet you kept walking.
It was Inkarmat.
“Shi… Shiraishi. Take the ki…”
You forced yourself to look at the water, trying to ignore her putrefied remains. You leached away its calmness like a parasite. The tranquility you attempted to foster only did so much. You still felt like garbage, like you could vomit at any second.
“What is it?!” Shiraishi shouted back. “And,” he groaned, “I can’t take them all by myself!”
He was right. Being responsible for twelve disturbed children in the woods with terrible cell reception was asking for trouble, but you were too stunned to think up a plan of action.
“Ogata and I will be in the front. You and Shiraishi take the back. I’ll tell Tsurumi when we get back to camp.”
You nodded and started walking back to the group with Sugimoto. Tears welled up in your eyes as you made eye contact with a terrified camper.
“Hey! Ogata!”
He was still on the hill, staring down into the lake
 “We have to go!” Sugimoto bellowed.
Ogata didn’t budge, and Sugimoto did not have the time for such antics.
“I’ll wait for him,” you said, wiping away your tears. “I don’t want the kids to see me like this anyway.”
“It wouldn’t kill them to see that you’re human,” Sugimoto said, trapping you in his gaze.
You sniffled. “Gross.”
Sugimoto didn’t have time for whatever was going on with you either. You couldn’t blame him. The kids had to take precedence. All you needed was two minutes to collect yourself and you’d be a functioning camp counselor again.
Ogata was still frozen in time. Everything was so still you didn’t want to speak, let alone move. You felt like the sound of a twig snapping beneath your feet could send the world into chaos.
“Hyakunosuke.” Your voice was soft, any louder and it would waiver.
Your legs shook as you made your way up the hill next to him. You made a conscious effort to keep your eyes on Ogata, nowhere else. You let yourself get lost in him and studied his face. You were curious about his symmetrical scars and how he got them.
“You’re not traumatized by this?” Ogata finally asked.
You thought about Tanigaki.
“Doesn’t that bother you?” he said, pointing at Inkarmat’s bloated corpse.
“Why are you asking?”
“I dunno. Curious I guess.”
Your mind went blank, but you kept speaking. “I’m… upset obviously. But I don’t want the kids to know… so… I’m—I am gonna pretend none of this ever happened and get through the week in one piece hopefully.”
“I know you can do it.”
His support did little to soothe you.
“I saw Tanigaki earlier. I saw his face. It was… He had puked all over himself and it just was so sad, like so undignified.” Ogata snorted, but you were too frazzled to comprehend it at the time. “And now that’s how I’m going to fucking remember him?” You tried to take some measured breaths. “Like was he in pain? Was he scared? Did he call out to any of us? Did he die, like, knowing we cared about him? Or did he just fucking lie in the dirt for hours, wondering why none of us came to help him?”
“Where was he?”
“His cabin. It kinda looked like he was leaving, or maybe he was going back in. He was on his back though.”
You couldn’t say anything more. You needed as much distance from the memory as possible. If Ogata wanted to know more, he would have to badger Shiraishi.
“Let’s go,” he said suddenly. “They’ll probably have to ask us a bunch of questions.”
“They? Who—”
“Maybe Tsurumi. Or his two guard dogs. Or the police. If we’re lucky maybe it’ll be all of them.”
Your bones were turning into dust, your body buckling under its own weight. You saw far too much today and said too much about it.
“Are you going to be alright?” he asked.
“I can’t move.”
You knew that in theory you could manipulate your body in such a way that would create distance between you and what remained of Inkarmat. You were practically screaming at yourself to go back to the group and embody Shiraishi’s laid back nature. But your fear was intangible, unforeseen, and there was no escaping it.
“Get on my back.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll carry you,” he said, readying himself to give you a piggyback ride.
“Are you sure?”
“Probably.”
You felt bad for giggling, considering you weren’t far from a corpse, but the lightness of it set you free. You hopped on his back and made your way through the woods, following the shrill voices of your campers.
“I’m going to need a drink after today,” Ogata grumbled.
“What do you mean a drink? I need an entire fifth to myself with one of those sport caps they have on water bottles screwed on top.”
“I can make that happen.”
Ogata said it with such ease. He was becoming the perfect distraction, a comforting beacon in a sea of blood and vomit.
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I believe I am in Hell, therefore I am
You and your fellow counselors decided a night of binge drinking was needed to cope with the day’s horrifying events. Everyone traded stories. Yūsaku joined the party, finally able to walk upright without yelping in pain. He was blindsided by what happened.
“So that’s it? They’re dead?” he asked, face flushed from his sunburn and the copious amounts of watery American-style lager he was drinking.
You took a sip from a bottle of tequila. Ogata managed to screw a sports cap on top making your dream a reality.
“I don’t know. I mean, yeah. They’re dead. That’s for sure.” The alcohol had softened the blow of seeing both of their bodies. “Seeing Tanigaki fucked me up… Not that Inkarmat didn’t… It’s just, like, his was the first I saw, y’know?”
“You always remember your first,” Usami said as he wandered into the woods to relieve himself.
Yūsaku shivered and you washed away Usami’s words with an amnesia seeking gulp of tequila.
“Sucks for you though. You’re gonna have to pick up the slack.”
“I don’t mind. It’s what I signed up for,” he beamed. “The kids really liked Inkarmat though. I have some big shoes to fill.”
“I think you’ll be a hit. They might try to peel off loose pieces of your skin though.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take for the good of the camp!” he cheered.
“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed.
“In a bad way?” he said, batting his long eyelashes.
You thought he was a total dork, but his optimism was infectious. Or maybe it was just your intoxicated mind being more open to suggestion. After having such a horrendous day it was nice to indulge in someone else’s dream. You knew deep down that there was no way camp would go on as planned, but it was easier to pretend that Yūsaku’s drive would be enough to pull everyone through.
“No, no,” you said, patting him on the head. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”
Out of the corner of you watched Ogata emerge from the woods and sit on the ground right next to the campfire. He held his hands to the fire. You watched as he closed his eyes, his body relaxing, shoulders lowered.
“You’re so nice” Yūsaku said, giving you a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.
It caught Ogata’s attention and he narrowed his eyes as his half-brother spun you around.
“Yū—Yūsaku, I’m getting dizzy.”
He blushed and apologized. Once your feet were on the ground you joined Ogata by the fire.
“How’s the bottle been working out for you?”
“Amazing,” you said, taking another drink. “Are you cold?” You scooted closer to him. “Where’d your jacket go?”
“I’m not sure. Why all the questions?”
You didn’t think two questions were considered a lot. “No reason.”
You hadn’t thought this conversation through. You were stumped and floundering. You should have known better to attempt to flirt while drunk. Your chance was slipping through your fingers and it made you ill. You needed something good to happen, something exciting. You needed Ogata to figure out that you were charming and interesting and most importantly fuckable.
He closed the gap and leaned against you.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Maybe. I… I have no idea honestly. I don’t know how I feel. Sometimes it’s like,” you took a sip of tequila, “I feel freaked the fuck out. But then sometimes I feel abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Like right now. It feels like it didn’t even happen. Are you okay?”
“I am. I only knew them for a week so they didn’t matter much.” His comments were so callous. “Don’t get me wrong. They were nice people, but that’s all they were to me.”
“Nice people,” you repeated.
“Yeah. Nice people.”
“Would you be sad if I died?”
He stared into the fire. “Maybe. Our groups get paired together for activities.”
“What does that mean?!”
“I’m around you a lot. Your absence wouldn’t go unnoticed,” he said with a smirk.
Your cheeks flared up and found it increasingly harder to hold it together. You regretted all the tequila. Spit was pooling in your mouth.
“Yeah, well. Of course it would. I’m, like, fucking… yeah,” you said, eyes half-lidded.
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
“I think the kids and the—their, uh, inarticulateness is rubbing, you know, off.”
“Oh yeah, that’s it. It’s definitely not because your blood is 90 proof.”
“You want some of it?”
You gave him a sloppy wink. His dark eyes widened, his eyebrows raised. It was the first time you had ever seen him so flustered.
“I—” he stuttered.
“Hey,” Shiraishi barked. “You guys seen Vasily?”
Ogata resumed his usual hard to read demeanor. You wanted to break the bottle in your hand and gut Shiraishi with it.
“Uhhhhh… Not like recently. I thought he was with you and Sugimoto,” you replied politely through a clenched jaw.
“We thought he was with you.”
“He could’ve went to bed early,” Ogata suggested.
“Hmmm yeah. I wouldn’t blame him,” you said.
“We should do that,” Shiraishi said, pointing at you. “We have target shooting at seven in the morning.”
You groaned. He was right, a good night’s rest was necessary. It killed you to say good night to Ogata, but there was always tomorrow. You didn’t need to rush things. 
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I looked on the disorder of my mind as sacred
You woke up the next morning with a persistent ache near your temples. You rolled out of bed and dug around your suitcase for some ibuprofen. You grabbed four and choked them down with room temperature water. It felt thick as it made its way down your throat. The sun was just starting to rise, the sky a dreamy shade of lavender.
It was weird to wake up alone. You hoped that it would be easier the second time around, but Inkarmat’s absence weighed heavy on you. You couldn’t figure out how she made it to the lake. The last time you saw her she said that she was going to fuck Tanigaki and to cover her ass if needed. She must have gotten lost on her way back from wherever it was she met him. Maybe she took a wrong turn and fell. Or maybe Tsurumi had something to do with it.
“Good morning!!”
Shiraishi’s cheery voice cut through your thoughts. You got up and let him in.
“Tsk, tsk. Still in your pajamas. What am I gonna do with you?”
He handed you an enamel mug full of coffee.
“Tsurumi wants to talk to us in an hour. I ran into him when I was going to take a piss.”
“Did he seem worried?”
“Not really.”
“Weird… I think he has something to do with it. He killed Tanigaki for sure and he probably killed Inkarmat too.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I think Tsurumi poisoned him with hemlock. What we saw lines up with the symptoms he told us when we went mushroom foraging.” Shiraishi didn’t look convinced. “Like do you think this is all a coincidence?”
“Why would he kill him though?”
“People kill without motives all the time.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“Seriously? He’s a creep. Who else would it be?”
“I don’t think it’s a person,” he whispered suddenly. His eyes shifted from left to right. “I think this place is haunted.”
“Oh yeah? Did Inkarmat read some passages out of the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis? Did she release the Deadites? Or maybe the soul of a drowned ex-camper is wandering the woods and picking us off one by one.”
Shiraishi was an idiot. There was no way the camp was haunted. You kicked him out and got dressed. You felt like you were moving in slow motion. You didn’t want to have some group discussion about what happened the day before. You wanted to put it in the past and focus on the kids and their activities. You wanted to finally have a canoe race.
When you walked into the mess hall it was dead silent. You took a seat next to Ogata much to the disappointment of Shiraishi and Sugimoto. There was an empty seat in between them.
“Where’s everyone?” you asked.
“No one’s seen Vasily or Usami since last night. And Koito’s with the kids. We’re just waiting on Tsurumi.”
“What about Nurse Kano?”
“I dunno…”
“Sorry I’m late!” Yūsaku said breathily. His hair was wet and his clothes were haphazardly thrown on.
“We haven’t even started yet,” Ogata groaned. “Sit down.”
Five minutes later Tsurumi came in with Tsukishima following behind like a shadow. He looked tired. His normally neat hair was askew, several strands of hair grazing his face, and his clothes were wrinkled.
“There’s no easy way to begin this discussion. We’re down four counselors. Genjirō and Inkarmat are dead, and apparently some of you are missing. That means there are twelve campers without any supervision.” He pointed at Yūsaku. “Yūsaku, you’re their counselor now. We’re also down a nurse. I received a note this morning from Nurse Kano saying, ‘I’m done with this shit. You’re not paying me enough and if I see you again I’m going to skin you alive.’ Needless to say, I would appreciate it if we kept any and all injuries to a minimum.”
Shiraishi raised his hand. “What if there’s an accident?”
“There won’t be any accidents!”
It was the first time any of you heard Tsurumi raise his voice. He took a deep breath and continued speaking, his tone even.
“The police have been informed about the disappearances. They said,” he sighed, “they’ll keep in touch.”
Sugimoto’s hand shot up. “Mr. Tsurumi, I have a question.”
“Yes, Saichi.”
“Shouldn’t we cancel our activities today and go look for Vasily and Usami?”
“I see no reason to punish innocent children for our failings.”
“Aww,” Shiraishi said quietly. “That’s so sweet.”
“It’s best to leave this up to the authorities. The last thing I want is for one of you to get hurt. We’re short staffed as it is,” Tsurumi said before ending the meeting.
The campers were full of questions, but overall the day was peaceful. Target shooting went well, and the kids loved learning Russian. Whenever Tsukishima wasn’t paying attention Ogata would teach them a few swear words. They lived for it, laughing like hyenas as Tsukishima tried to figure out what was so funny. Things felt kind of normal.
Sugimoto was the one to finally suggest going on a night hike after dinner. He thought Tsurumi was stupid for not utilizing everyone in the search, and it weighed on his mind all day.
“I can’t believe the cops didn’t show up,” he said, turning on his flashlight.
“That’s illegal, right?” Shiraishi asked.
Ogata yawned. “It might be, but they don’t care.”
“Whatever,” Sugimoto said dismissively. “I’ll probably regret saying this, but I think we should split up. We’ll cover more ground.”
“I’ll go with Ogata,” you blurted out.
Sugimoto’s millisecond of confused silence opened a window for Ogata to direct the hastily thrown together operation.
“We'll go further up the mountain and check the trails. You guys stay at this elevation and search the woods. I’m sure they got lost. I’d say let’s bet on it, but I know you’re all broke.”
Shiraishi nodded, but Sugimoto looked annoyed beyond belief. You watched as they melted away into the darkness eagerly awaiting your alone time with Ogata.
“It’s better if we both have one,” he said, handing you a flashlight. “You said my name pretty fast back there.”
Your palms began to sweat. You had been too eager.
“I don’t know,” you said, pushing a low hanging branch out of your face. “Shiraishi’s been getting on my nerves.”
You cringed at your lie. Hopefully Ogata would deem it inconsequential and forget you ever said it.
“Is he really that bad?”
“Uh, well, you know… He—sometimes it’s like he’s just so obnoxious.”
“He is pretty annoying. I don’t know how you put up with him.”
“I’m, um, just really good at tolerating people. It’s hard though.”
“You’re good at hiding it.”
You were good at hiding it because you loved having Shiraishi as a partner.
“Thank you.”
“It’s too bad we weren’t paired together. Sugimoto’s an asshole,” he sighed.
The two of you walked cautiously down the trail. You grew more and more nervous as it got steeper. Every twig felt like a landmine. You kept your eyes on the ground. It proved to be a terrible idea because you ended up walking right into Ogata. He fell forward, dropping his flashlight.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” you said, cradling him in your arms.
He looked up at you. His forehead and his arms were covered in swaths of raw skin and blood. He tried to get up, but only managed to roll onto the ground. You pulled off your sweatshirt and put it under his head as a makeshift pillow.
You dug through your backpack for your first aid kit. It was nearly empty already because your group of campers loved skinning their knees. You found a few alcohol wipes and some gauze. You wanted to punch your past self for not refilling it, but now wasn’t the time for self-flagellation.
“It’s gonna sting.”
“I’m not a child. You don’t need to remind me.”
“Damn, okay,” you said, cleaning the wound on his head.
“Sorry…” he mumbled.
It was just a superficial scrape, but of course the urge to spiral was present. Despite your attempts to be optimistic your mind went to the worst places. 
I gave him a traumatic brain injury. I cracked his beautiful skull. I killed him and Mr. Tsurumi is going to be so fucking mad at me!
“No. I’m sorry. I’m the idiot that made you fall.”
“Good point. I take back my apology.”
You slapped an alcohol wipe on one of the cuts on his arm. His pained groan was like an angel singing your name.
“What day is it?” you asked, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs.
“June 8th.”
“What’s the time?”
He paused. “I don’t know. It was around 10 when we left.”
“Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Sleepy?”
“No.”
“Do you remember what ha—”
“You shoved me and I fell.”
“Shove makes it seem like it was intentional.”
“It was.”
“No it was not.”
He sat up. “Yes it was. You shoved me because you have a huge crush on me and you can’t stand it.”
“You definitely damaged your brain. Like, you’re so unwell right now. It’s sick.”
He laughed. “Don’t deny it. You can be honest with me.”
“I was looking at the ground! There were exposed roots!”
He pulled his arm away from you and grabbed you by the jaw. “If that’s all it was, why do you look nervous?”
“That’s just my face.”
“It’s a cute one.”
You panicked and tried to think of a cool, couth response, but nothing came. You just sat there, brain filled with white noise. The air was heavy; you felt like you were choking. You kept your breathing steady, but it was a herculean effort. All your energy was going into keeping yourself in one piece. The longer those four words sank in, the harder it was to retain your humanity.
It’s a cute one. It’s a cute one. It’s a cute one.
Your hesitation evaporated and you clumsily kissed him. Despite his words he seemed unimpressed with your agency, giving nothing in return. And in turn you felt nothing. It was like you were holding him hostage rather than sweeping him off his feet.
“Um, we should… go back to camp.”
The relief you felt upon finding Sugimoto and Shiraishi was immense. However your fellow counselors remained missing. You couldn’t help but feel like you were hunting for ghosts.
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I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul
Much to the chagrin of Shiraishi, Tsurumi asked you to help Yūsaku and his twelve campers. It wasn’t ideal. Managing kids you weren’t familiar with was rough. They tested you left and right. They relished in lying about their names, snickering when you’d try to chastise them. They seemed to have a modicum of respect for Yūsaku though.
“How’s it going?” Shiraishi asked during your lunch.
“It’s—”
“Well I’m having a terrible time. These kids hate me. They keep asking when you’re coming back.”
You laughed. “Did you tell them never? Because I don’t see Tsurumi letting the golden boy stuck with a bunch of kids on his own.”
“It’s not like he needs you! I’m dying out there!”
“You have Sugimoto.” You sighed. “And Ogata.”
“They’re barely any help. Sugimoto’s too busy trying to solve a murder mystery like he’s Columbo. And Ogata’s too busy being his weird self. I think he’s pissed off at Hanazawa.”
You cocked an eyebrow.
“I don’t know why. Maybe he’s jealous that Hanazawa is—”
“Working with me?” you asked, your eyes full of stars.
“Psh. No. Part of me thinks Ogata just wants to be Tsurumi’s pet.”
 “Oh. No yeah, you’re right.” You stared off into space. “He totally wants to be the golden boy.”
“You’re both wrong.” Ogata silently took a seat next to Shiraishi. Your head was swimming. “I just hate being here.”
“Then why glare at your brother?” Shiraishi asked haughtily.
“Are you an only child, Shiraishi?”
“Probably.”
Ogata smirked and changed the subject. “How is working with him?”
His tone wasn’t threatening, but the flatness of his gaze made you feel like you were being interrogated.
“It’s fine!” you exclaimed a bit too hurriedly. You tried to save face by tempering your tone to match the coolness of Ogata’s. “I mean, yeah, like, it’s okay. The kids like him, which is good because they can’t stand me. I don’t mind him, you know, taking the lead. He is the lead counselor.”
“It looked like he was doing all the work.”
His words were a wasp’s sting.
“You’d be stupid not to take advantage of that dork,” Shiraishi said in an attempt to bandage your wound.
“I’m not taking advantage of him.”
“Shiraishi has a point.”
“No he does not!”
“You can admit it,” Ogata teased.
“There’s nothing to admit. What am I supposed to admit?”
He paused.
“You know you hate being here just as much as everyone else.”
You glared at Ogata. “If I hated being here, I would leave.”
“Sure you would.”
“Yeah! Exactly. I would.”
Shiraishi scurried away awkwardly, though to be honest you barely noticed.
“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “How can you be so sure of something like that?”
“Because—because I know myself? This isn’t, like, some hypothetical thing. If I didn’t want to be here, I would leave. But I’m invested in whatever the fuck is going on… And I like my kids! I care about them! Okay, not the ones I have right now. Honestly fuck those ki—oh god.”
Ogata was trying to hold back a laugh. “Child hater.”
“I don’t hate kids! Even kids that are little shits. I’m just…” You carefully chose your words. “Not fond of some.” You regained your conviction. “Regardless it’s not like I could ever leave any of them behind.”
“It’s so funny.”
You tilted your head, awaiting an elaboration.
“You all say the same thing. The way you say it is different, but—”
“What are you talking about?”
He stood up and patted you on the head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
You thought about chasing after him, but there was only ten minutes left of your lunch and you hadn’t even touched your food. You choked it down and searched for Yūsaku. You found him sitting in the grass, telling the kids one of his numerous summer camp tales.
“And that’s how I learned you should never eat mud.”
You joined their circle. “How was the jigen-ryū class?”
“Boring,” one chirped.
“Lame,” another admitted.
“I hate Mr. Koito.” one said bluntly. “Why does he scream so much?”
Yūsaku nervously chastised the kids.
You giggled. “That’s a great question. But I have an even better one: who wants to have a canoe race?”
The kids were eager for normalcy, typical summer fun, and you couldn’t blame them. You sought it yourself. Anything to shake off your conversation with Ogata. You felt like it poked holes in your brain. You hoped in utter desperation that the laughter of children and the afternoon sunlight dancing across Yūsaku’s precious face would fill them.
And for a brief moment they did. But Ogata remained a looming presence. He was so distracting you came dead last in the race. Your eyes couldn’t focus on anything other than him watching from a distance like a hunter.
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A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned
You went to bed early that night though you failed to drift away. You were in a fetal position, snuggled up in your sleeping bag, looking up at the Milky Way through your window for hours. You couldn’t get Ogata out of your mind.
“Idiot,” you murmured as you flipped over onto your back, not sure if you were calling him an idiot or yourself.
You stretched out and took up every inch of your bed. Your joints popped, the satisfaction from the sound soothed your soul. There was the chance this was as worse as it would get. Yes, people were dropping like flies, disappearing mysteriously. Yes, the camp director was a blatant freak. Yes, Ogata was fucking with your head. But the canoe race was normal! It was benign and expected! Those moments were few and far between so far. Maybe this was a good omen, a sneak peak of the placidity that was going to follow.
Pretending to be optimistic successfully lulled you to sleep. But rapid, and somehow pathetic, pounding on your cabin door ripped you from your slumber. You groaned audibly, hoping whoever was in desperate need of your attention would feel a semblance of shame. You got out of bed at a sloth’s pace and sighed before opening the door.
“Are you busy?” Ogata asked.
“I was sleeping.”
He gently pushed you out of the way and entered the cabin, a stiffness and urgency embodied in the swift movement. Your grip on consciousness was tenuous at best so you didn’t protest.
“Everything, uh, good?” you asked.
“If I said I wanted to apologize, would you believe me?”
You scoffed. “Not after asking me that.”
He sat down on your bed, and you struggled to hide your disgust. You couldn’t stop thinking about the fetid remnants of the woods that lingered on his sweatpants. Having him take them off crossed your mind.
“Well I am.”
“You’re what?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it… All the stuff I said.”
“You sure about that?”
He attempted to smooth down a strand of his hair. A hoarse mhm resonated in his throat.
“You’re so easy to rile up. I couldn’t resist.”
“Well,” you groaned. “Thanks. I guess.”
You figured he’d get up and leave, but instead his presence lingered, growing heavier by the second. His eyes were restless, his body tense.
“Do you mind if I stay the night?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the floor.
It was such an abrupt question. All you could do was choke out an affirmation. You knew kicking him out was the smart thing to do, but his perceived permanence on your bed overwhelmed you. The rational voice in your head grew fainter, your lust forcing its way through your papery veil of self-preservation. You were nothing more than your repressed urges.
“Are you sure?”
Dumb question. You’d never been so sure of something in your life. You couldn’t recall any form of previous trepidation though you weren’t trying particularly hard to do so.
“Yeah,” you answered, sitting beside him.
You leaned in. His sweatshirt smelled like wet leaves and copper. You used his thigh to steady yourself. He turned his head, his dark eyes looking through you. It was unnerving, but not enough to trigger common sense.
“Aren’t you hot?” you asked, laughing as the question tumbled from your mouth. His answer didn’t matter. “You’re making me sweat.”
You tugged at his sweatshirt. It felt dirty, heavy with sweat and earth. He took it off without a stitch of hesitation. Your eyes trailed down his arms, longing for them to be wrapped around you. It was the only way you’d make it through the night.
“I run cold,” he practically purred.
Cliche comments ran through your head.
That’s so funny because I could totally keep you warm, big boy.
I’m burning up, why don’t you cool me off with your stupid, gorgeous body?
“That’s cool.” Your brain shut down. “I want you.”
Your bluntness seemed to please him. His lips curled into a half smile before he pulled you into a kiss. He wasted no time, pushing his tongue past your teeth. He caressed your cheek as his tongue brushed up against yours, soft and warm. He pulled you onto his lap and rubbed the inside of your thigh with his rough hands. You tugged at his shirt, the cotton damp with sweat. He lifted it up and pulled it off, letting it drop on the floor.
“You should lie down,” you said, breath hot against his neck.
“Am I easier to take advantage of that way?”
“Excuse me?”
Your question went unheeded and he reclined on your bed, beckoning you to straddle him. You looked down at his body, muscles perfectly toned like they were crafted by the gods. He looked so pleased with himself, like he’d won an award. His cock was hard against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. It ached against you.
You studied his face. There were a few faint, red scratches across his cheek. You ran your thumb down one, feeling the slightly swollen skin. He winced.
“What happened?” you asked.
He exhaled. “I fell.”
“Like recently or?”
“On my way over.”
“How?”
His right eye twitched.
“I tripped,” he said, words clipped.
“On what?”
You never knew him to be clumsy, if anything he was rather feline in his agility. His fingers dug deeper into your hips before rolling you onto your back and getting on top of you. He pressed his rough palm over your lips.
“Hush.” His tone was nauseatingly sweet.
“I’m serious, are you okay?” you asked, voice muffled by his hand.
He titled his head and stared into your eyes with a calculated gaze.
“Isn’t it a little late for you to be so talkative?”
It was astounding how easy it was for him to shut you down. Granted you weren’t steadfast when it came to Ogata. You couldn’t take a firm stance. How could you hold onto a belief when you couldn’t predict his reaction to it? You wanted to be palatable and if that meant bending like a willow to his incomprehensible will then so be it.
“You’re so cute,” he said, removing his hand. “You’re like a scared deer.”
He lifted up the oversized t-shirt you liked to sleep in and pulled off your underwear. His fingers grazed your folds, coating them in your arousal. You swallowed hard, spit catching in your throat, as he slid them into your cunt. They curled inside you, pressing against your walls. The pressure made your skin tingle.
His gaze was attentive but cold. You felt studied, examined. It bred a twinge of looming uncertainty, one that settled in your stomach. But he didn’t hesitate with a remedy. He pushed his fingers as far as they could go and began fucking you with them. Your concern disappeared as fast as it came. Your eyes glazed over, ensnared by the man looming over you. You tried in vain to hold back your pleased whimpers.
He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re falling apart so fast.” His lips grazed your lobe.
Apologizing crossed your mind, but you kept your mouth shut. You writhed underneath his weight, rutting up against his fingers as they fucked your slick cunt.
Your hands wandered down his back. His skin was soft and sticky with sweat. You let your fingers trail down his spine before settling on the crest of his ass. You yanked down his briefs and dug your fingers into the taut flesh. He flashed an impish smile and pulled them down, kicking them off. The head of his cock was leaking precum. He tugged on it and bathed in your starved gaze.
“You want me so bad,” he said haughtily. “Tell me how bad you want me.”
You sighed as he jerked himself off. “I feel like I’ll die if you don’t fuck me.”
“Oh yeah?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I need you.”
“Then beg for it,” he growled.
“Please. Please fuck me.”
He rubbed his cock up against your folds. “Say my name.”
“Please fuck me, Hyakunosuke. Please. Please. Please.”
He nuzzled your neck and pressed his cocktip against your clit. “More.”
You continued to plead, body aching for him to fuck you. He guided his cock inside you, its girth stretching your tight cunt. He groaned as he pushed it in further. His movements were slow, and he seemed to relish in your whimpering.
“Tell me how good it feels,” he commanded as he thrust into you.
“Really good. Really fucking good,” you babbled.
He let out a pleased sigh and fully submerged his length within you. His tip pressed up against your cervix, sending a shock to your core. You yelped as he pushed against it harder.
“Such a big cock for such a precious little thing.”
His thrusts drove you into the mattress, making your cot creak. His touch wasn’t gentle. He didn’t hesitate to bend your body to his liking, to show off his strength. It was deliciously overwhelming. He laced his fingers in your hair and pulled. He manhandled your legs to get them over his shoulders. You knew his force would leave blooms of bruises on your ankles, bruises you’d have to explain away when your friends inquired about your life after hours.
Being at his will was exciting.
“Do you like getting fucked like a whore?”
“Uh-huh,” you moaned.
He grinned. You wanted to lick his teeth, but settled for hugging his cock with your cunt.
“Fuck,” he hissed, jaw clenched. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
His pace quickened and his breathing grew labored. He seemed weakened by his impending climax. His eyes were softer, his words lacked their previous domineering weight. He looked like he was in agony. Seeing him fall apart made your clit throb. It was almost too much. Your body was immersed in euphoria, drowning in an obscene amount of debauched delight. To finally experience something you craved for so long was almost maddening. So many times you dreamt about him lording over your body under the serene light of the moon. And now you were living it out.
You wanted him to come first, to feel his cum flood your cunt, but your body wasn’t on the same page. Your impending climax was bubbling up inside you. Resisting it was a futile feat. What good was it to deny yourself such ecstasy?
“Harder,” you moaned.
He repositioned himself so he could drive his cock deeper in. You felt like you were going to burst. You dug your fingers into your mattress, gripping the tangled up sheets. The feeblest attempt to keep yourself tethered to this world lest you ascend to an Icarus end. Your back arched as a numinous groan crept up from the depths of your being, a simple carnal prayer. A cluster of whimpers followed in its wake.
Every inch of tension melted away as you let your orgasm consume you. You nearly forgot where you were until you heard Ogata’s pained voice.
“Where do you want it?” he asked urgently.
“Inside, inside,” you babbled.
He grimaced and pulled his cock out of your dripping cunt. He straddled your chest and held your head, forcing you to crane your neck. He pushed his cock past your lips and rutted against your face. His touch became gentle, hands almost cradling the base of your skull. He held you like you were fragile, like he could rip you to pieces if he lacked restraint.
“Look up at me,” he groaned as his cum splattered against the back of your throat.
You looked up at him, as he continued to thrust. Spurts of his piquant cum filled your mouth. You thought it would never end. Tears welled up in your eyes as his cum trickled from the corners of your mouth. Once his cock stopped twitching he placed his hand on your forehead and pushed you off. He then rolled over onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling.
“Um,” you said, crashing back into reality. 
You hoped no one heard what happened. Your cabin was the one closest to the outskirts of everything, but still. Your cot’s incessant squeaking plagued you. Your breathy moans haunted you. Ogata’s audible grunting was a dark cloud swirling above your head. You missed your fucked out state of mind. You debated on chasing it. You thought about grabbing his semi-erect cock, but the feeling faded from your grasp. It didn’t help that he looked completely dissociated from the situation.
“Hyaku,” you paused, his first name felt too intimate, ”Ogata?”
You rolled over onto your side and placed your hand on his shoulder.
“Are you alright?”
“Sure,” he said before turning his back to you.
“Okay,” you replied, molding your body beside his.
You expected him to scoot away from you, or retire to the unforgiving floor. But instead he pressed himself up against you. You draped an arm over him and nuzzled your face against his undercut as you drifted away.
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Life is the farce we are all forced to endure
Waking up alone wasn’t a surprise though it was still disappointing.
The sun roused you, making you painfully aware of your lack of clothes and the dried cum in the corners of your mouth. Visions of a relaxing shower danced through your mind. You could practically feel the steam surrounding you. However, leaving your cabin was precarious. No one could see you like this, skittering around and clutching your toiletries like they were gold. You’d wither away if perceived.
“I got this,” you whispered to no one in particular.
You stepped out into the morning light. It felt early. You didn’t hear any kids or any sort of chatter which was a relief. The outside world was safe; it was secure. You took a deep breath and took in the fresh air.
“Good morning.”
Your exhale lodged itself in your throat, forcing out a pathetic cough.
“Fuck. I mean good morning, Mr. Tsurumi.”
He looked tired, less triumphant, and part of you wondered if he was going to kill you.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be up this early.”
“I wasn’t expecting to be either,” you said, trying to mask your discomfort. “Anyway—”
He interrupted your attempt at a polite getaway. “How well do you know Yūsaku?”
“Uh. I guess about as well as you can know anyone given the amount of ti—”
“Did he seem unhappy? Dissatisfied?”
“That sunburn made him pretty miserable.”
He studied you. “Anything beyond that?”
“I—yeah no, I think that’s, uh, the only thing.”
“I see. Well I won’t keep you any longer.”
You simply smiled and nodded. Once he was out of sight you sprinted to the showers, eager for the cleanly embrace of its solitude. It was exactly what you wanted, what you needed. You needed to wash away whatever that conversation had been. You couldn’t figure out why he was so curious about Yūsaku. Your relationship with him was friendly but superficial. You wouldn’t know how to describe him in any meaningful way if prompted to, but made an attempt anyway.
He’s Ogata’s half-brother. He can tell two different stories about eating mud as a little kid. He sucks at putting on sunscreen. His eyelashes are pretty. He has a general golden boy vibe that is almost insufferably charming.
You knew essentially nothing. Whereas you could write an entire thesis regarding the random facts about Shiraishi you learned against your will.
You spent the entirety of your shower, wracking your brain over the camp director’s questioning. Unfortunately your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. The night before lingered around you like a ghostly shroud. Your legs were peppered with bruises and your hips were sore. There were so many random aches echoing throughout your body.
By the time you were done the shrill voices of children flooded the camp. You hurriedly made your way back to your cabin, careful to avoid running into anyone. But despite the painstaking  care you took, there was Shiraishi pawing at your door anxiously like a dog.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
He didn’t bother answering your question. “They’re sending all the kids home.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yup. A few parents have already come by. Tsurumi wants to sit us all down and talk about what we’re gonna do.”
“We’re all going to leave, right?”
“Well we got all this shit here. The canoes. The food. The giant shogi pieces. All of that needs to get packed up probably. Do you think we’ll still get paid even if there’s no kids to watch?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“I heard something kinda messed up though.” You stepped closer to him and he continued, his voice low. “I overheard Koito saying some shit to Tsukishima about another body being found.”
“No,” you gasped.
“Yeah. They left maybe an hour ago. I doubt they’re coming back. I saw them pack—”
“Okay whatever. Whose body?”
Shiraishi shushed you. “Yūsaku’s.”
“Shut up.”
“Tsurumi found him hanging in the forest.”
“Like hanging out, right? With his brother maybe?” you asked desperately.
“Nope.”
“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?”
“Relax! Maybe I heard wrong.”
You took a measured breath and distanced yourself from this loss. “It makes sense. Tsurumi was asking me about Yūsaku this morning. He wanted to know if Yūsaku was sad or, I don’t know, depressed I guess.”
“Did he seem—”
“No, but not all suicidal people act like outwardly suicidal.”
“So you think he killed himself?”
“Fuck no,” you sneered. “I bet Tsurumi did. That’s why he was asking me about him. He wanted to come up with an alibi, or a reason for Yūsaku to have done something like that.”
Shiraishi looked a little nervous. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not jump the gun.”
You pushed him away from the door and dropped your stuff off. On the walk to the mess hall you watched as kids crawled into massive minivans and sleek electric cars. They were a resilient bunch. You admired their ability to withstand the trauma murder reaped. It sucked to see them go, but this camp was no place for their kind.
You felt oddly numb in the wake of Yūsaku’s apparent demise, especially as you sat amongst the camp’s dwindling numbers. It was just you, Shiraishi, Sugimoto, Ogata, and that freak Tsurumi. You all sat in a circle around an ashen fire pit, sipping coffee. It was bitter, the acidic taste boring holes through your tongue.
“It pains me to say this,” Tsurumi began.
“We all know about Yūsaku,” Shiraishi yawned.
His lack of tact made you want to crawl into your mug and drown.
“Oh, I wasn’t going to start off with that but…” He sighed. “As you all apparently know Yūsaku is no longer with us.”
“Did he go home?” Ogata asked.
“Shut up,” Sugimoto hissed.
Tsurumi ignored the chatter and continued. You struggled to focus. Your mind drifted off into fantasies of catching the camp director in the act and getting the hero treatment for saving the day. They were fun scenarios to entertain, but deep down you didn’t crave glory or even recognition. You just wanted to be right.
To no one’s surprise Tsurumi managed to convince everyone to stay one more night in order to return the camp to its previous barren state. It was depressing to snuff out the last remnants of the camp’s life, but necessary so Tsurumi could get back his security deposit. It was impressive to see how impermanent everything was. What took a week to create was dismantled within a day, a notion that haunted you to no end. You hated to think everything was so transient. It beckoned you to hold on tighter to your memories, to the bonds you fostered. If they were going to be ripped away, they would be marred with ghostly reminders of your feral grip.
Throughout the day you orbited around Ogata, searching for tasks that required you to be near him. Despite your attempts to be discreet, anyone with a brain could see your passive clinginess. You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but you didn’t want to risk an awkward conversation. When you finally built up the confidence to speak to him he was swept away by a bored sheriff wearing mirrored sunglasses.
“Wonder what they’re talking about,” Shiraishi said, startling you.
“Yūsaku obviously,” you scoffed as you swept the porch of a cabin. “Whatever. It’s not like I care.”
He laughed loud enough to grab the attention of the sheriff. Ogata was undisturbed.
“I feel bad for him.”
“Yeah?”
Shiraishi frowned. “Yeah, like his brother’s dead. He’s a total weirdo with no friends. And he’s short.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re shorter than him.”
“I am, but I’m sexy and have friends.”
Ogata was sexy, but you opted to keep that to yourself.
“Okay, and?” you said bristling with annoyance. “Go bother someone else.”
“I actually had a reason for bugging you. Sugimoto wants to make s’mores tonight because we have a bunch of marshmallows. I was thinking we could turn it into a mini party.”
“A final hurrah.”
“Exactly!” he said as he walked away.
S’mores and cold beer sounded nice, but not nearly as nice as another night with Ogata. You watched as he stared lazily at the sheriff, his posture loose and mildly defiant. He wasn’t naive enough to believe Yūsaku hung himself. He must have caught onto how strange Tsurumi was. There was no way he hadn’t. He was perceptive. You couldn’t help but feel as though you were kindred spirits.
When the sheriff finally left you decided to approach him.
“Hey,” you said gently. “I just wanted to, you know…uh. I’m really sorry about your brother.”
“Why? Did you make him kill himself?” he said, his gaze friendly yet cold.
You laughed and shifted uncomfortably.
“I just wanted to see if you were okay. Is there anything I can do?”
“Hmm. I don’t know.” He closed the distance you kept. “How far are you willing to go to comfort me?”
“A normal amount. If you need to talk or anything, I don’t mind listening.”
“Would you mind choking on my cock again? I found that to be very soothing.”
Ogata’s words were grotesque rather than alluring. You couldn’t help but feel like he was just trying to scare you off. His vulgarity lacked any sort of intensity. The threat was hollow. You swallowed hard and tried to look less timid.
“Don’t be an asshole. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”
He looked thoroughly amused. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
You patted his shoulder with a platonic, heavy hand and headed off in a random direction. You were too frazzled to think that far ahead, but you walked into the woods with faux confidence.
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All filthy memories fade out
You sighed in relief as the sun sunk into the horizon. Making s’mores and getting drunk by a fire sounded like the only suitable end for such a horrific venture. Shiraishi and Sugimoto met you by your cabin and aided you in crafting a fire pit.
“It’s so fucked up we never made these with the kids,” Sugimoto sighed, puncturing three marshmallows with a two-pronged skewer specially made for the act.
You sipped your beer. “We failed them.”
Shiraishi nodded. “We may be the dream team, but we weren’t perfect.”
“The what?!” Sugimoto struggled not to laugh as he crafted a picturesque s’more.
“Wh—who? Who’s the dream team?” you asked.
“Us! Me, you, and Sugimoto… obviously.”
“I had no idea.”
“I never said it out loud until now,” Shiraishi said solemnly.
It was hard to deny. The chaos that was camp proved to be a great conduit for bonding despite the horrors. You never would have made it through without Shiraishi’s humor and Sugimoto’s kindness.
“Dream team, huh?” Sugimoto said with a smile blooming across his face.
You punched Shiraishi in the arm. “Cute. I like it.”
Shiraishi blushed and shifted his gaze to the case of beer.
“How does the dream team feel about shotgunning some beers?”
Shotgunning some beers turned into shotgunning several. Stabbing the cans and chugging like your life depended on it was addicting. By the end of it you were all in a hazy trance. You collapsed down into your chair with too much vigor, sending yourself backwards into the dirt. You cackled like a witch.
“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Sugimoto asked. He was unable to hide his amused smile.
He held out his hand and hoisted you up. Shiraishi watched on, tears in his eyes, and stabbed another beer with his pocket knife. Beer spurted out of the hole and it sprayed all over. A dramatic “noooooooooo!" erupted from him as he tried in vain to suckle the rest of the beer out of the can. Sugimoto could barely hold himself together and lost his balance, sending you back into the unforgiving dirt and landing directly on you. His body was so heavy you thought you were going to suffocate. Luckily he rolled off of you within a second, wheezing with laughter.
The comedy of errors was too much. Not a single one of you went unscathed.
“I’m so sorry,” Sugimoto choked out.
You stood up and brushed the dust off of your body. “It’s okay. I’m alive. I made it. I survived.”
“You know,” Sugimoto said, still sitting in the dirt. “I’m really gonna miss you guys.”
“We’ll have to meet up again before summer ends.”
Shiraishi wiped the beer from his lips. “That’s assuming we live.”
“Dude! Not funny.” Sugimoto threw an empty can at Shiraishi. It missed.
“I’ll probably die next,” you replied thoughtfully. “Tsurumi’s gonna catch on and have to silence me.”
“Stop!”
Shiraishi corrected you. “No, no. It’ll be me.”
“Yeah, you know what. It’ll be Shiraishi, and then you. And then me.”
Shiraishi pouted. “What makes you so sure you’ll live the longest?”
“I’m immortal, dumb ass.”
“If you’re immortal, why not protect us?” you suggested.
“Yeah!”
“I’ll obviously do that! That goes without saying!”
You looked at him, doe-eyed. “Promise?”
He stood up, his balance shakier than ever. It didn’t inspire much confidence in his ability to protect you, but you chose to believe in his conviction.
“As long as I am here, neither of you will die. I… I love you guys s—so much.”
“Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry. And I hate crying in the woods.”
You heard rustling in the distance. Sugimoto and Shiraishi didn’t seem to notice so you chalked it up to your intoxication. You focused your attention on the delightful little bars of artisan chocolate Yūsaku bought for the kids. Your stomach had been growling, begging for something other than beer.
“Gimme the stick thingy,” you barked at Sugimoto.
“Is that any way to ask me for something?”
“You’re talking like a caveman.”
You groaned. “Please give me a, uh,” you gestured towards the skewer resting at Sugimoto’s feet, “that item. Please, good sir.”
Shiraishi applauded your efforts like a real friend and spoke words of affirmation as you struggled to make a s’more. Neither of them stepped in to help you. They appeared to find your tribulation much too entertaining, and you were much too drunk to ask for assistance. However you managed to make four. The sloppiness didn’t detract from the flavor which was all that mattered.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” Shiraishi said. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m tired.”
Sugimoto stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Yeah, I have a long drive tomorrow. I’m not trying to fall asleep at the wheel.”
It was almost painful to part ways. A little sliver of you was afraid to enter your cabin on your own. You knew there was no reason to be scared. It wasn’t as if Tsurumi was hiding inside, waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab you. There was no way he could have snuck past you, Shiraishi, and Sugimoto. One of you would have seen him, or at the very least heard him.
Your heart began to pound. You had heard something lurking about in the woods. It very well could’ve been him. Maybe you were too drunk to be vigilant and maybe Tsurumi took advantage of that. Your hand trembled as you reached for the doorknob. Your fear was heavy and looming. It was like you were slowly being crushed. Every inhale felt like it was catching in your throat. You slowly twisted the knob and pressed your weight up against the door.
“Hello?” you asked as if an assailant would actually respond.
You flipped the switch and your room was filled with soft, incandescent light. There was no one in sight, not a soul. The relief you felt was almost overwhelming. Your terror was replaced by a pleasant drowsiness. Sleeping through the night with no interruptions wouldn’t be a pipe dream.
And it seemed to be going along quite well…
Until you had to pee of course. The urge hit you like a truck. You sprung up out of bed and ran all the way to the bathroom, hoping you’d make it in time. You regretted drinking so much. If it hadn’t been for the beer you might have gotten an uninterrupted six hours.
Luckily you made it to the bathroom in time, but on your walk back you became keenly aware of the fact you were still quite drunk.
“Ughhhhhhhhhhh,” you moaned as you trudged back.
You passed Tsurumi’s cabin and it triggered a deep desire to indulge in some snooping. Moonlighting as a drunk detective seemed like an incredible idea.
There were no lights on in his cabin, which wasn’t odd considering it was the middle of the night. But everything seemed vaguely ominous given your state of mind and your desire to prove he was the murderer. You peeked in his window and saw him sleeping. He was face down, body spread out like a starfish.
“What a freak.”
“You’re the one watching him sleep.”
You spun around and saw Ogata. You opened your mouth to scream but he covered it. His hand was damp and smelled like soap. He looked unkempt, and seemed a little frazzled.
“I can explain,” you whispered.
“Are you drunk?”
“Maybe. Listen!”
He shushed you and grabbed you by the wrist. He dragged you away from Tsurumi’s window.
“Can I talk now?” You didn’t wait for an answer. “I think Tsurumi is killing everyone.”
He looked thoroughly amused. “What makes you so sure—”
“He’s a total fucking weirdo, Ogata! He, you know, like… Okay, I don’t have solid proof. But he did ask me about your brother. He was like ‘Ohhh, do you think Yūsaku was suicidal? Did he seem like a little sad boy with little sad boy problems?’ And I was like, ‘No.’ And he was like all… whatever.” You hiccuped. “Why would he ask me that if he wasn’t trying to find a way to cover up his crime?”
“You did work with Yūsaku. I don’t think it’s weird that Tsurumi would ask you about him. If I were him, you would be one of the first people I’d talk to.”
“Ogataaaaaaaaaa,” you whined. “Don’t be a shit.”
“All I’m saying is the two of you seemed close.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
“I think he had a crush on you,” he teased.
“He didn’t.”
“I wouldn’t blame him for having one.”
You gave up on protesting. It wasn’t like he was actually listening to you. You turned your gaze towards the ground. It was then you noticed what looked like rusty stains on his shoes.
“You really shouldn’t wear white shoes.”
He looked confused.
“Yours are always s—so dirty.”
He stared down at his shoes and smiled. “I like them this way.”
You shrugged. “Anyway. I think Tsurumi poisoned Tanigaki with mushrooms.”
“What about Inkarmat? Usami? Vasi—”
“When did they find Usami and Vasily?!”
He paused. “They didn’t. I thought maybe you had an explanation for them going missing.”
“Oh. No. I haven’t really thought about them. Is that fucked up?”
“A little, but I like it when you’re fucked up.”
He leaned in and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You tried to let yourself fall into the moment, to let yourself be enraptured by him once more. But you felt uneasy. A part of you was screaming at you to stop. Your entire body tensed up and you pushed him away.
“Not here,” you sighed.
“Why not?” he said, rubbing the small of your back.
“What if someone sees?”
“There’s no one to see us.”
With your luck Shiraishi and Sugimoto would see you wrapped up in Ogata’s arms and never let you live it down. A greater horror would be Tsurumi catching you. He would have no issue disposing you.
Ogata didn’t share this concern. He simply shoved his fingers down your shorts and rubbed your clit through your underwear.
“You don’t need to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid. I don’t want to get caught.”
“Hmm,” he purred as he nuzzled his face in your neck. “Getting caught could be fun. We could finally reveal our true nature.”
His wording puzzled you.
“Wait, what true nature? That we’re fucking?” you asked.
“Don’t play dumb.”
He let his fingers graze your cunt. His touch was hypnotic. You felt like you were melting in his arms. The world around you faded away, your concerns were nonexistent. Everything was a distraction queued for destruction. He kissed your neck, his stubble tickling you. You felt his teeth graze your skin. A smile crept across your face as he bit into it. Your knees buckled as he bit down a little harder. Your head was spinning.
“I need to taste you,” he said against your neck, pulling down your clothes.
The night air was brisk against the skin of your ass. He kissed the nape of your neck as he hands traveled down your waist, stopping at the dip of your hips. He got on his knees and stared up at you, eyes dark with ardor, before giving your clit a languid lick.
He lapped at your cunt like a starved animal. It was like he was trying to consume you. You felt so desired, so adored. His tongue was dizzying. You nearly lost your balance as he buried his face in between your thighs. He grunted and gripped your ass to steady you.
You gasped as he dug his fingers deeper into your skin. His sweetness was always tinged with a little cruelty. You felt like you were falling in love with him whenever he was rough with you. Your pleasure seemed endless. It was something to get lost in. He shielded you from the tragedy that had overtaken your life.
You ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re so good at this.”
“I know,” he groaned.
His haughtiness was unfortunately warranted. He could work wonders with his mouth. He rolled his tongue against your throbbing clit. Your knees trembled as your orgasm began to bloom. You tried to speak but all you could do was whimper his name. You felt like you were floating away.
Moaning soon became the only thing you were capable of doing. Your body was limp and swollen with lust. The only reason you were upright was because of Ogata’s steadying grip.
“Are you really going to come already?” he teased.
“Yes!” you choked out.
He held your clit between his lips and sucked. Your head rolled back and you murmured a string of obscenities. Euphoria wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the heights you were ascending to. You drenched his face with your arousal as your orgasm echoed through you.
“Sor—”
Your demure apology was interrupted by a pained moan coming from the distance. You crashed back down to earth.
“Did you hear that?” you asked.
Ogata didn’t respond. He simply stood up and wiped his chin.
“Let me walk you back to your cabin.”
“Uh, yeah sure. But did you hear that? It sounded like a person.”
“I didn’t hear anything. Your paranoia is getting the best of you.” He grabbed you by the hand. “Come on.”
He didn’t say a single word on the walk back. He didn’t even look at you. You felt like a ghost.
“Thanks… for escorting me.”
“It’s no problem,” he said with a smile.
You were convinced you would never fully understand him, that he would always keep you on your toes. And maybe that was the appeal. It was a danger you didn’t mind dancing with, something low stakes in comparison to people getting fucking murdered.
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With my eyes closed I offered myself to the sun
It was your final day and you jumped at the opportunity to interrogate Tsurumi. It didn’t matter if you were the only one that thought he was the cause of all the camp’s calamity. The lack of faith from your friends didn’t deter you in the least. You knew you were right and soon everyone else would know as well.
“What the?”
You saw a heap in the distance, something keeled over just beyond the trees. The sun sliced through them, drowning whatever it was in unforgiving light. You heard the faint buzzing of flies and your stomach dropped. The familiar sensation of spit pooling in your mouth triggered a lethal anxiety within you.
Every step you took made you more and more nauseous. A horrid smell swarmed your nostrils. You couldn’t help but gag.
“No,” you said quietly, looking down at the heap.
It was Sugimoto, face down. His arms were stretched in front of him, fingers caked with dirt.
“Saichi, get up.” You squatted beside him. A prayer circle of jet black ants surrounded his body. “Get up. You’re supposed to keep me and Shiraishi safe, remember?”
There was no hope and yet you tried to hold onto it. You wanted to roll him over, thinking maybe you could rouse him. You saw it in movies all the time, the classic fake-out death trope. You’d slap him around, maybe yell and cry a bit, and his eyes would flutter open. He would apologize for worrying you and you’d tease him for how rank he smelled.
“Oh fuck!” you screamed as you rolled him onto his back.
His chin was coated with dried blood. His stomach had been cut open, entrails butchered and hanging out. You looked just beyond his body and saw a trail of blood and intestines. You started to sob. Sugimoto didn’t deserve to suffer such a heinous demise. Why couldn’t Tsurumi have just killed him outright? Why did he have to exercise his will with such cruelty? You hated him and his flagrant barbarity. Your rage washed over you. The desire to throw yourself over his mauled body and wail was extinguished.
“I’m so sorry,” you cooed, stroking his hair. “Tsurumi’s not getting away with this.”
In order to properly avenge Sugimoto you needed Shiraishi, but you didn’t even know if Shiraishi was alive. You grabbed Sugimoto’s pocket knife and bolted to Shiraishi’s cabin. You kicked the door in and all you saw was an unmade bed, empty bags of marshmallows, and all of his belongings scattered around an empty duffle bag.
You kept running out of sheer desperation, searching Shiraishi’s usual haunts to no avail. He must have been killed too, another counselor disappeared by that freak Tsurumi.
Your bravado began to melt away. The more you thought about it the more you realized you likely couldn’t hold your own against Tsurumi. You were nothing without the dream team.
There was always Ogata, but if Sugimoto was slain by Tsurumi with such ease then Ogata didn’t stand a chance. You were enshrouded in a sinking loneliness. It made every step an ordeal but you continued your march to Tsurumi’s cabin.
Your head was swimming by the time you got there. You didn’t even notice the door was already open. As you stepped inside you heard a series of loud, wet thwacks.
“Wh—what are you doing?”
Ogata stood over Tsurumi’s twitching body, bashing in his skull with the butt of his own shotgun. Pale foam seeped from his parted lips. You watched in horror as his face gradually became unrecognizable carnage with each of Ogata’s blows.
“Why?” you squeaked.
“What do you mean why? I did this for you.”
“This is not what I wanted.”
“Yes it is. You thought he was killing all your friends and it bothered you enough that you whined to me about it.”
“I didn’t tell you those things because I wanted you to kill him! Fuck! Now the cops are going to think you killed everyone!”
He cocked his head to the side and stared at you. You froze in place like a deer in front of a speeding truck. He looked gutted.
“I did kill everyone.”
You bursted into laughter. “No you fucking didn’t.”
“Yes I did.”
“Stop it! No you didn’t!”
He stepped over Tsurumi’s corpse, gun still in his hand. You backed out the door, trying to keep distance.
“Yes I did,” he said. In the sunlight you saw how much of Tsurumi’s blood ended up on him. He was dappled with crimson splotches. “That’s why you told me about Tsurumi. You wanted him gone and you knew I’d take care of it.”
Your mouth was agape. You refused to believe him.
“You—you’re not serious. Please tell me you’re not serious. Please.”
“I’m se—”
“No! Shut up! You didn’t do it. You didn’t do any of it. You… You couldn’t. Right? Right?!”
His disappointment was palpable.
“Why are you acting like this? You knew what you were doing when you talked to me about him.”
“I never said I wanted you to kill him! I never fucking said that!”
“Stop screaming. I’m right here.”
Your eyes were becoming glassy. Tears were imminent. 
“I never said that,” you said quietly.
“You didn’t have to. I knew what you wanted. We see things the same way. You hated all of them as much as I did.”
“What? I didn’t hate any of them.”
“Oh so you liked Usami?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead.”
He sighed heavily. “You don’t need to pretend anymore. They’re all gone.”
“Pretend? I’m not pretending.”
“Drop the act. I didn’t mind it before, but now there’s no reason for you to hide yourself from me.”
Everything was spinning around you. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was absurd for him to think you harbored as much hatred as he did. Sure, some of your fellow counselors got on your nerves, but being annoying wasn’t a death sentence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not hiding anything.”
He tried to pat down his unruly lock of hair. “So you’re saying I’m wrong? You’re nothing like me?”
“Yes! I could never dream of being as monstrous as you! How fucked up do you have to be to decide you can just kill people for, I don’t know, being annoying or stupid or whatever?”
“It’s not like I intended on killing everyone. I just wanted Yūsaku gone, but then I caught Tanigaki and Inkarmat 69ing by the lake and it spiraled from there.”
“Th—that’s why you killed them?”
“It was disgusting, okay.”
“Was it more disgusting than what we did?”
He glared at you. “What we did wasn’t disgusting. Tanigaki and Inkarmat didn’t actually care about each other.”
“You don’t know that.”
“They barely knew each other. You can’t like someone that much after, what, a week?”
“Does that mean we don’t like each other?”
“No!” He took a measured breath and regained composure. “It’s different with us. You know me. You understand me.”
“I don’t understand you at all.”
“But you were… so nice to me.”
Neither of you spoke. The only sound was the wind cutting through the trees. You thought back to old conversations you had with him and tried to see where your ignorance blinded you. There were plenty of times you should have known it was Ogata, but you were so caught up in blaming Tsurumi for everything.
It was hard to reconcile the man you had your heart set on was a cold blooded killer. You wanted your feelings to subside, but they remained despite his horrendous crimes. Part of you needed to fix him, to save him from himself. Maybe if you had caught on sooner you could have stopped him. There were so many what-ifs running through your mind you almost forgot where you were.
“Did it not mean anything to you?” he asked.
“What?”
“Being nice to me. Was it an obligation?”
“No. I think… most people deserve kindness.”
“Even someone like me?”
You tried to ignore the shotgun in his hand. “Yes… especially you, Hyakunosuke.”
“After everything I’ve done?”
“Ye—yes.”
“Liar.”
He aimed the gun under his chin and pulled the trigger. You tried to catch him in your arms, but you weren’t strong enough to carry that weight. You fell to your knees and cradled him. His face was nothing but an open wound. You wept as his blood seeped into your clothes.
“You were never an obligation.” 
You wiped away your tears and got his blood in your eye. It burned, but it was nothing compared to the sinking feeling in your heart.
“Holy shit!!”
Shiraishi came barrelling out of the woods. His lip was busted and he had dried blood under his nose.
“Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?” 
Shiraishi kneeled in front of you. You looked down and noticed his hand was resting in what used to be Ogata’s face.
“Shiraishi, your hand.”
He fell backwards and kicked himself away from Ogata’s corpse. He wiped his hand in the dirt.
“He, uh, didn’t hurt me. I’m fine… I thought you were dead.”
“Nah. I just let him beat the shit out of me and pretended to be dead. I didn’t think he’d fall for it. Have you seen Sugimoto?”
“He… he didn’t make it.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Shiraishi helped move Ogata off of you. He looked horrified once he saw how much of Ogata’s blood had ended up on you. The coppery scent was impossible to ignore.
You were thankful Shiraishi was still alive. He took charge for a change, deciding your best course of action was to go to the mess hall and contact the authorities. It wasn’t until you got there that he realized his phone was dead. You both sat in silence as it charged.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked after checking his battery life.
You nodded.
“Did you like Ogata?”
You didn’t want to admit it. You couldn’t imagine a world where Shiraishi would understand the complexity of your feelings. He never liked Ogata in the first place.
You tried to slaughter the sentimental romantic inside you. You thought about how mean Ogata could be, the awful things he’d say to you. You thought about Sugimoto and how he tried to drag himself to your cabin despite being gutted like a fish.
“No,” you scoffed. 
Ogata was right. You were a liar.
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dokk-fukuro · 10 months
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Bloody Moon [Bram Stoker x f!Reader]
Minors DNI
۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞
A/N: f!reader, mention of female genitals, smut, mentions of blood, Bram has his body
۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞
The entire settlement bypasses the old estate, which is only miraculously not called a castle. Various rumors circulate about that place, supposedly its owner is cursed. You used to hear from the locals that the owner of the estate is a servant of the Devil, or is one himself. But you weren't interested in the tales of frightened villagers. You were more interested in the opportunity to gain knowledge of healing in order to help people, and not to pretend.
And that's why you're here, making your way through the overgrown path to the estate late at night. You are not afraid of dry bushes and dead trees that cast evil shadows on the ground under the moonlight, you are not afraid of howling wolves somewhere in the distance. The nature of these lands seemed to have died long ago.
The estate welcomes you with a dead garden. It died a long time ago. Flowers died, if there were shrubs, they either turned into a pile of stabbing dry branches, or were so ugly that you can’t look at them without tears. In the center of this garden there is a large fountain with a decoration in the form of three girls holding jugs. You don’t know how long he hasn’t worked, however, you don’t ask yourself this question. You knock on the door. All this time, you have a strong feeling that you are being watched. Maybe that's how it is?
The heavy oak door opens on its own. At your own risk, you go inside, frantically look around to be sure for sure: you are alone. Most of the furniture is covered with white bedspreads, dust settles on the railings and window frames, in some places you can see cobwebs in the corners. This estate has been abandoned for a long time. Clearly no one has lived here for years. At least it creates that impression. “And why is everyone afraid of it?” You wonder at some point, and strange noises somewhere nearby distract you. As if someone is approaching. Frightened, you pull out a knife, but you hear laughter in response.
“And what do you hope for when you decide to use it against me?” The voice is deep, rough with a clear mockery of you and the whole situation. To a stranger you seem ridiculous in an attempt to protect your life. "Why did you disturb me?"
You look around, slowly moving forward towards the massive staircase leading to the second floor. Fear grips your entire body, causing every nerve ending to tense up. Each muscle is like a spring. The instinct of self-preservation is calling you to run as far as possible from this damned place, but you have come such a long way that you simply cannot return back with nothing. It is the only smoldering flame of courage in your chest. You have a clear goal with which you came to this estate, and you clearly do not intend to deviate from your original plan.
Your attempts in the twilight to find something or someone who addresses you are futile. And this only amuses the one who is watching you from the shadows even more. The way you cling to your life, the way you desperately try to see the source of the voice in the twilight. This someone could watch you for hours.
“But you should probably be commended for your bravery. Ignore the locals' warnings and come here... You're either too brave or too damn stupid. Haven't you been warned about who is the owner of this place?” You swallowed hard. Only one thing reassured you for sure: what you do not see, at least a human voice, is something that thinks, accordingly, not relying solely on animal instincts. With this “something” you can make a deal. After all, can you?
“Don’t you think that when guests come to you, you need to at least go out to them. I'm not talking about how to find out if you need help?” You are ready to almost curse yourself for those words. Who asked you to open your mouth, and even more so to talk back the obvious owner of these places? “There are a lot of conversations about you. What I just did not hear on the way here. even it was said that the devil himself lives here.”
Right behind you, you hear laughter, angry and a little judgmental. Icy hands, like those of a dead man, rest on your shoulders, and all your imaginary courage leaves your body at once, as if by a wave of your hand. The desire to run overcomes its own limits, but your legs do not obey you, you cannot even take a step forward, let alone escape. The owner of the estate is amused by such a reaction.
You slowly turn around, your heart literally swells with fear, pressing on your lungs and making it difficult to breathe fully. Before you stands a man in a black cloak. His pale, almost porcelain skin reflects the moonlight that enters the hall despite the slightly dirty window. The owner of the estate is dressed in a long black cloak, from under which a high standing collar of a white shirt sticks out. His eyes don’t have a vital luster. He carefully study your features, glare into your eyes. And you understand that your miserable life will end in the estate. You’ll not become a doctor in your small town, you’ll not be able to save other people's lives. You'll just die here in the clutches of this creature. However, his impossibly long blond hair grabs your attention.
“More than daylight and noise around, I hate impudent people like you. But your courage amazes me. Tell me, child, what's your wish? Do you really want to spend your whole life learning how to save people? What's the point?” The gaze of the scarlet eyes rushes to the blade of the knife that you hold in your trembling hands. It seems to you that if you were not killed in the first seconds, you were just lucky, or he’s playing with you.
“I was told that there is someone in this estate who can teach me the art of healing. They said that there is an incalculable treasure, an incredible amount of knowledge that will help humanity move forward and not die with a slight cough.” You seemed to be waiting for this question, because the fire of courage in your chest flares up with renewed vigor, driving out fear. You are confident in your aspirations, and now you are definitely not going to leave the intended path. “Please teach me. Share your knowledge. In return, I will do anything for you.”
The desire to learn, to learn something new attracts him. That is why the man's features soften, and he leads you along. The library on his estate was covered in dust. There is not a single book in it that the owner would not read, because they are all boring to him. But seeing genuine admiration and delight in your eyes, it seems that the one who is branded the Devil in the flesh is tingling somewhere deep, between the ribs, where the heart once beat. Years of loneliness in the estate make themselves felt, it is unusual for a man that someone is wandering in his library again, looking at the spines of books with interest, going through the letters with their fingertips, leaving their warmth and smell on them. Oh, you still don't fully understand who you're messing with. However, this thought does not occur to you.
"May I know your name, sir?" In the meantime, you are interested, taking out the book you need, as it seems to you. You’re not even afraid of the sudden appearance of the owner of the estate behind your back, ‘cause you are too keen on studying everything that catches your eye. Botany, medicinal properties of plants, tinctures making, chemistry. So much to learn, read and find out. The man himself does not notice how the smile touches his dry lips. It’s so interesting to watch you fussy, that he even forgets about your impudence in the first minutes of your meeting.
“Count Bram Stoker,” comes the reply. His scarlet eyes do not leave you for a second, while you study every page of the book you have taken with genuine interest. The question flickers in his thoughts: "Is there really such mortals in this world?" If it wasn't for your impudence, Stoker would have thought you were perfect.
A man forbids you to take books with you. Instead, he offers you one of the bedrooms on the second floor. At first, you shyly refuse, believing that it is not worthwhile to embarrass the owner of these places, which leads Bram to complete confusion. Almost from the threshold you showed a lively and impudent disposition, and now it’s like a different person in front of him. And yet you have to agree. Your long and difficult journey to this estate has exhausted you more than you thought.
“However, I should warn you in advance. Don’t go to the neighboring wing, otherwise even I, as the owner of this estate, will not guarantee your survival here.” Sounds ominous, but you agree to the terms with a quick glance at the door that leads to the next wing.
Your guest room is large. You could say that your whole house will fit in it. Carved canopy bed to the ceiling, large wardrobe and chest of drawers next to it, dressing table. On both sides of the bed there are bedside tables and a screen next to the wardrobe. Surprisingly, there is no mirror in the room, and the makeup table, which should have one, only has a frame. The mirror seemed to have been deliberately pulled out of there, or broken. You don't ask too many questions, you just thank Bram for his hospitality. Does the monster live on the estate, as they say?
You start to notice strange things after a while. The landlord often draws the curtains, doesn't eat with you, and only occasionally keeps you company while you chat about everything. You tell him about how things are outside the small town where he lives, what you saw while getting to his place. And Bram was listening to your monologues with interest.
“Mr. Stoker, may I inquire? - You're getting his attention. In the candlelight, his scarlet eyes gleam. They reflect a strange interest in you, not in your stories, not in what you saw, but precisely in your every gesture. It's like Bram is trying to devour you with just a look. It's getting uncomfortable. "Why aren't you joining the meal?"
The man sighs, his parched lips stretching into a strange, wry smile, as if he's trying to hide something from you. It sends chills down your spine. Dislike of daylight, lack of mirrors, strange hissing in his way of speaking. And this is far from the whole list of what you have noticed and continue to notice.
“You shouldn't worry about me. I already dined earlier,” does not sound very convincing, but you do not ask any more questions. In the end, the piercing gaze of blood-red eyes urges you to finish your meal, as if to say: “The food is getting cold.”
Oddity can also be called the complete absence of any servants. There are no butlers or maids on the estate, no cooks or gardeners either. And this is in addition to the door that leads to the neighboring wing. Apparently, it is tightly locked, and for some reason the instinct of self-preservation relentlessly insists that you should not even try to look for the key. However, you are not going to do it anyway.
“Last question, Mr. Stoker. Don't take it as impudence, but I want to ask you: are you married?” And then the devil pulled you to ask this very question. But you're really interested in his marital status. The answer seems obvious, but you can't take back the words. Bram frowns, rises from his seat and begins to pace thoughtfully next to a dusty fireplace, the ashes from which no one has raked out for a long time. Above the fireplace hangs a portrait.
And only looking closer you understand: it depicts the owner of the estate with a young woman. They look happy and in love. It makes you uncomfortable to know that you are most likely making Stoker remember the past, the traumatic past.
“She died three years ago,” the man sighs and looks up at the portrait, as if he has managed to follow your gaze. Appetite completely repulses because of the sucking feeling of sadness and longing. Of course, you don't know this girl personally, but Bram's grief seems to be transmitted to you. It fills the entire room, forcing out all the air. Approaching the man carefully, you look at him, then at the portrait. The look of the owner of the estate returns to you. “You look so much like her. Could this be fate?”
You never believed in the transmigration of souls, because you always thought it was something on the verge of mysticism and unreal. However, this time, looking a man eye to eye, you are ready to believe anything. And all his oddities that you notice for an extended amount of time disappear from your mind. You are literally drawn to Stoker, and he doesn't even try to push you away. Instead, he lets you touch his icy cheeks with symmetrical scars on either side. Its coldness doesn't bother you at all, instead you just breathe out:
“You're so cold, Mr. Stoker. Let me warm you up.”
You reach for his lips, and the man still doesn’t push you away, allowing you to touch his dry lips. A careful touch makes him close his eyes, clasp your waist with icy, like a dead man's hands, press you a little closer. In the dining room where you are, it is as if a vacuum is formed in which nothing is heard, and only in your ears you hear the beating of your heart.
It's amazing how quickly things change around. A moment ago you were standing by the fireplace in the dining room, and now you are surrounded by a guest room in which you sleep. And while graceful hands with long, thin fingers free you from the shackles of clothes, you reach for the buttons on Bram's vest. His lips never leave your warm skin for a second. Every part of your body that opens up is covered in kisses, soft and pleasant. The man silently asks, “Are you ready?” For him, this moment is an opportunity to escape from the loneliness that lives side by side with him for God knows how long. You are his chance to feel not alone again.
There is less and less clothes on your bodies. Kisses on your skin fan the flames in your chest, your blood feels hot like magma coursing through your veins. You bashfully cover your body with your hands, but Bram carefully takes your wrists and spreads his arms to the sides. His scarlet eyes, like rubies in the snow, burn out in your memory your well-made girlish figure.
“You are beautiful, my love,” comes out of his lips more involuntarily than consciously, but he does not think of correcting himself somehow. And that only makes it more embarrassing. The white sheets embrace you as Stoker continues to cover your skin with kisses. Having taken off your underwear, the man, to his surprise, finds that you are already wet enough to take at least one of his fingers into you. Not to mention that you are clearly untouched by anyone. “Are you ready?”
He waits for a rejection so he can just stop and pretend it never happened. He wants to suppress the growing thirst, although he understands that for you the current one everything will end on this snow-white bed. The thirst that Bram so desperately wants to quench lies in your blood, in its alluring scent, in the warmth of your body and your curiosity. Appearing impudent to him from the doorway, you charmed him afterwards. And now he won't be able to let you go so easily, his inky heart won't be able to survive this.
To his dismay, you agree. And his thirst is joined by the desire to get all of you, to make you his forever. His finger has a hard time getting inside your pussy. You’re wet, tight and warm that Stoker almost groans, anticipating how he will stuffed you completely, replacing his finger with his cock. The man moves it carefully, watching each change of your emotional spectrum with his eyes shining in the twilight. You bewitch him like a real witch. And as soon as your first moan breaks from your lips, Bram has to make every effort to restrain himself and frankly animal desires.
A second one joins the finger inside you. For the owner of the estate to work you like this, seeing you thrash around in his hands is real torture. Your rapid breathing, interrupted by moans, the way you bite your lips and tremble. Stoker is ready to die and be reborn for this moment. He asked you for the last time the question of your readiness to take him inside you, he still hopes to hear a refusal. But you nod, and he has no other choice but to follow you into the pool of pleasure.
He enters your pussy slowly, centimeter by centimeter. Surprisingly, you don't feel any pain. It's warm inside you, the walls wrap around his cock tightly, almost not allowing him to move inside you. And only when Stoker enters you completely, looking deeply into your eyes, he kissed your lips. In this position, you spend some time before your body relaxes underneath him, the walls no longer wrap around his cock so much, and he can move more or less freely.
Bram's movements inside you are slow, smooth, but deep. The man revels in your quiet moans and sighs. You grab his shoulders, arch your back, changing the angle of entry, but you only ask for one thing: “Don’t stop.” And it removes all restrictions from the owner of the estate, which begins to pick up the pace, leaning over the crook of your neck. The heat of your body, the intensified scent of blood beckons him, and who is he to deny himself pleasure.
Your blood is hot, filling his mouth and throat, dripping with rare drops on the white sheets under your especially loud moan. Stoker moves inside you faster now, bringing you to orgasm with more than just the feel of the fangs in your neck. And you can only remotely hear how he moans with you, cumming inside.
That night, the moon turned red.
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hazzybat · 2 months
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Thanks for coming Mr Jordan
okay so remember this idea by @cinder-rose of Nace having certain exciting dreams about Jan? well I wrote a little intro and then kinda wrote chapter 1 I guess? maybe I'll make it into more but for now have this! (casual 1000+ words lol)
this is 18+ btw as it involves porn dreams
Nace relaxed on the couch, his shirt off and warmth enveloping him. He was seeing Jan over the holidays but he couldn't remember which holidays they were. The house was large, full of impossible rooms and the largest, softest couch Nace could imagine. Then Jan was sprawled out next to him, his body warm flush against his own. His arm was loose around his neck and his lips were so close to Nace's. He felt a pang of guilt. He had a girlfriend who was.... he didn't know where she was. But Jan was so inviting and soft, his chest hair rough against his own flushed skin. Those beautiful lips whispered out "Thanks for coming Mr Jordan" before they pressed themselves to Nace's. Jan was everywhere. He was hot and perfect and he ground their hips together and Nace could think of nothing but how amazing it felt. Jan's hand snaked down his pants and right as he held his cock and began to stroke him Nace woke up. He wondered for a moment why his bed was so empty, his sheets tangled around his hips and drool on his cheek. Then his mind caught up and he groaned angrily. He was now single. His girlfriend had split with him a week ago, a mutual decision that still broke his heart. They hadn't been good for a while, drifting further and further apart until he hardly felt he knew the woman in front of him. Her side of the bed was cold. His mind replayed the dream and he groaned again. Why had it been Jan? Sure he was close to Jan but why did his sleep filled mind decide to put the man in his sex dreams? Even in his dream he’d felt guilty for kissing him. His hand trailed down his body until it found his very erect cock, precum already leaking from the tip. There was no point in wasting a perfectly good boner he mused. Maybe once he got off he could clear his head. He brought up his favourite porn, choosing to look at the amateur threesome from some time in the 90s rather than dwell on dream-Jan's perfect fingers and lips and body.
The video did the trick, the two men touching and feeling the woman before they made out with each other over her, the low quality footage allowing him to imagine their faces however he wanted and the moans a perfect mix of deep masculine need and high feminine want. He came easily and for a moment allowed himself to remember Jan's deep raspy words, "Thanks for coming Mr Jordan" It was just a dream. He needed a shower and a coffee, his mind already sweeping away the details like cobwebs. It didn't mean anything anyway. ‐--------- "Thank you for coming Mr Jordan" Jan said from the couch when Nace walked into the studio. The statement sent a pulse of pleasure straight to his dick and his brain short circuited. Did Jan know somehow? Could he read minds? Could he see the blush that was steadily covering Nace's cheeks? What the fuck was going on? Jan was sitting in one of the armchairs, his laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. He had a black tie slung around his neck and a black blazer on top with no shirt to speak of. A pair of Nace spare glasses were perched atop his nose. Looking closer it was actually one of Nace's blazers he'd stolen as well. "Nice glasses, where'd you get them?" Nace asked in at attempt at humour, something to bring a sense of normality back to this very strange day. Jan didn't answer, instead he leaned back in the chair, pulling the blazer back to show off a nipple, which he began to stroke with a lazy finger. "I'm so glad you're here Mr Jordan, I've been going through your accounts and I'm afraid the numbers are all wrong" Jan was overacting, his voice exaggerated and breathy asthe hand as his nipple began to kneed at his non existent breasts. His other hand took off the glasses and bit down on the arm of it seductively, looking at Nace with dark eyes. Nace was thoroughly confused but his cock was enjoying the terrible acting a bit too much, twitching at every breathy moan Jan gave between words. Had he actually woken up this morning? Was he still in his strange porn dream?
"I think I can fix the numbers, but only if you do me a big, long, hard favour," Jan continued, rising from the couch and sauntering over to where Nace was still frozen to the spot. This was hell, Nace had died and this was his punishment for staring a bit to long at Jan's fingers when he played. Or maybe it was heaven with the way Jan looked at him, glasses still in fingers, the end in his mouth and tongue dancing over it obscenely. Jan reached him and wrapped his arms around Nace's neck. His hand instinctively found Jan's hips. His brain finally kicked into gear when he managed to ask "what the fuck is happening?" "We got 2 minutes boys!" Jure cheered from his spot behind the door, walking into the room with his phone, using it as a stopwatch and proudly displaying the time to the others. Bojan followed close behind, handing over a note to Jure and grumbling to Kris about "why couldn't he wait another 20 seconds". Jan hadn't moved from his arms and Nace was still thoroughly confused. Jan took pity on him and explained "Bojan found the tie and your spare glasses and somehow we ended up with the idea of a bad porn intro. Sorry you ended up our leading lady but we wanted to see how long it would take you to question things." Jan was grinning along with the others as he fished around in his wallet and handed Jure a note alongside Bojan's. Kris tutted at Nace as if disappointed, also handing over a note to the drummer who was gleefully counting his winnings. Nace was bright red. They were going to be the death of him he knew it. He reluctantly dropped his hands from Jan’s waist and tried to laugh along with the others. This was going to be a very long day.
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violetbumblebea · 1 year
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Every now and then, Jason felt bad about lying to Dad. The man took him in, loved him, and bought him literally all the books he could ever ask for and how does he repay him? By sneaking behind his back. Moments like this, however? Really cement why none of the Birds tell their father shit.
"Dad," Jason groaned, slumped next to the man in the back of their limo, "why do we have to visit Two-Face of all people?" Jason attempted to make eye-contact with Alfred through the review mirror to convey his general sense of misery. Alfred, the unsympathetic bastard, rolled up the privacy screen.
Bruce Wayne, dressed in a three piece suit, looked away from the mirror he was fixing his hair in to look at his sulking teenage son. "Harvey Dent," Bruce said, putting emphasis on the name, "is one of my oldest friends. I don't condone what he did but I'm trying to support his recovery."
This is why the Birds could never tell Bruce Wayne the truth. Bruce believed in second chances and in the inherit good of people and therapy. Bruce would never condone of his children enacting badass vigilante justice.
Jason sighed as they approached Arkham. He considered himself lucky. He had come from nothing on the streets to literally the best home in the world.
On one hand, he had the perfect dad. Bruce went to all of his plays, parent teacher conferences, and chaperoned all of his dances (which wasn't the best, but Jason wasn't complaining.) Between all of the activities of his four sons, Bruce was also a successful businessman. Truly, his dad was super human (metaphorically of course - they had checked).
While his dad was pretty much perfect, he also had a wonderful outlet in the form of the Birds.
When Jason had first joined the Wayne family, he found himself chafing under the rules and regulations of his new life. Sure, he loved his structured activities but, at times, they were so stuffy. Bruce had done all the things he was supposed to, supporting Jason's interests, throwing him in therapy, and offering a safe space at home. Something just wasn't clicking for Jason.
It wasn't until he caught Dick's frequent disappearances that he found what he had been missing - crime fighting. Apparently, Dick, in all his prepubescent angst, decided to avenge his parents' deaths and just never stopped. From then on, he had been helping Gotham's poor as Robin Hood.
Their operation in the attic (or the Nest, as Babs had nicknamed it) had only grown from there, adding Dick's friend Barbra Gordon, their stalker-turned-brother, and Bruce's kid that he had unknowingly had with an assassin.
So yeah, Jason had the perfect parental figure, great siblings, a weird spy grandpa, and an outlet for burning energy and beating up bad guys. All in all - not so bad.
What would make his life even better? If his dad would stop visiting a crazy murderer once a week and dragging one of them along with him!
"Come on, Jaybird" his dad said, holding the door to the limo open for Jason. "Let's go tell Uncle Harvey about your role as Iago in "Othello"!"
Jason shuffled out of the limo and the door slammed behind him. He kept pace with Bruce as they approached the dark gray cement of Gotham's best and only asylum.
Time to hang out with the Uncle that Jason had thrown into jail two months ago. Fun.
Note:
Obv. this isn't done! I intend to keep writing for this :) It's been awhile and I'm trying to clear some cobwebs lol. Hope you like it well enough :)
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thelucidestofthemall · 8 months
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Thoughts on Cobweb
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Spoilers
The ending set back the movie. I was intrigued because the trailer showed parents as the source of the mystery, and in the movie it quickly became clear that something's very wrong with them. There's nothing wrong with monsters, but I feel like terror of abusive parents is not portrayed in that many horror movies. And I was legitimately scared during scenes with them. However, it had to be some poorly designed monster thing.
And the plot twist wasn't really that surprising. If there's one thing that horror movies taught me, is that if spirits talk to you they're evil. If you're the only person they talk to and give you instructions, they're double evil.
If the movie was focused on the parents thorough out and invented a better ending(no predictable bully death scenes either) it probably would be my favorite of the year so far.
Also, when you think about the internal logic, it looks even worse.
There was no reason for the teacher to go to their house the second time, the creepy feeling just doesn't cut it.
The girl's abilities are all out there(tho I find the concept of her climbing abilities pretty cool). She said that she had learned how to climb, even tho I'm pretty sure she was born with that ability as her spider-like nature is heavily implied. Even if that was just her saying random bullshit, how tf does she have the ability to telepathically close the doors to the house and also imitate a little girl's voice.
And the parents are the main part. Why were they not prepared to handle that in the slightest? They literally had to interact with her on at least a weekly basis to feed her, so why did they not prepare with extra care especially when they were about to have a son. Why did the mother try to gaslight Peter, like fym "he has a big imagination"? The voice will not be going away because it's real! Do something about it?!?
Why was there no attempt at communicating, especially after it was clear that Peter knows the girl, you might as well try to minimize the damage. And as the last resort, you could've just killed her. You're fucked if ppl find out you covered up a murder of a child anyway.
If it sounds like I'm ranting it's because I am. Purely because I loved the direction in which the movie was going in the middle, but the end disappointed me. However, I'd still give it a 6/10, purely because the scares with the parents got to me. And the actors playing them were doing a good job
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lucalicatteart · 1 year
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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 12: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should rest for the night in an abandoned barn ...
~
Somewhat nervous about being out in the woods alone at night, he decides to try finding a more hidden sleeping spot, further off from the path. Though with his injuries, and his exhaustion, he knows he shouldn't walk too far. He tells himself that he'll just adventure a little, only an hour or so, and if he can't find anything better by then, he'll just give up and set a tent in some bushes somewhere......
After 30 minutes, he finally stumbles across an old barn. He can't see it very well with just a trickle of moonlight and the dull glow of his flickering lantern, but it seems to have not been used for many years. Structurally sound enough (at least he hopes), yet shrouded in moss and blankets of various overgrowth.. It takes a few moments to pluck away all of the ivy blocking his path, but he soon closes the rickety doors behind him to focus on the interior. There's no space to light a fire or set up a real tent, and he'll have to block a few holes in the walls so wild animals don't sneak in, but, there are a few surprisingly clear looking sections scattered amongst all the musty hay bales and cobwebs. He chooses a "cozy" spot in the corner, hidden behind a few dusty crates. Though he tosses about uncomfortably in his bedding for quite a while, he's eventually able to fall into a peaceful sleep.….....
.. Suddenly, he's startled awake by rustling, catching a dark blurred movement in front of him. He's smart enough to always sleep wearing his backpack over his chest so nobody could just grab it without him noticing, but it seems for the first time in all his travels... someone is actually trying to. Still half asleep, he clings to the bag and yelps, pushing and tumbling away into a moldy wooden barrel after an initial struggle. He pulls himself up to face the hooded figure now looming above him, entirely obscured aside from their vague cloak-ish shape outlined by the faint moonlight behind them.. The Adventurer calls out in a shaky attempt at an aggressive tone, "Wh-wh.. whAT are YOU DOIng? WHo-whu..UHHH??? aahhhG" "Give me the bag." The hooded figure speaks in a smooth, stern, yet calm voice, slowly taking a step forwards. The cat scrambles to The Adventurer's side, hissing and giving a low growl.. "w-WELL , uh,, sORRY , n-NO , I would rrrather not DO THAT, I h-- I uh-- I don't have even anythi- I don't even have ANYTHING, I mea- wh-wh HWaAt d-do I look RICH to you?? EUggh-" he gulps loudly, holding back nervous vomit, "B-BACK OFF!! you-.. f- uh.. THIEF!!!!!" The hooded figure pauses for a moment, as if re-strategizing how to approach the situation. "Look, kid, I don't want to hurt you. But I need you to give me that egg." "WHWh-what egg? I-I don.. DON'T have an EGG, I'm uh…aCTUALLY a-allergic to eggs, s-sso-" "The egg that's in a wooden box. In your bag. Don't waste your time bullshitting me.. Come on, let's make this quick." The hooded figure extends their arm, motioning to be handed the egg. Still desperately fighting not to throw up everywhere, The Adventurer simply sits on the floor, staring up at the hooded figure blankly as he tries to think.. Is he seriously being robbed for the first time? Is that like, a cool milestone, or a bad one? He's read about it in adventuring books before but... the reality feels so much different.. How can he get out of this? Strategies scatter through his mind, but he's too shaken to find any clear answers.. What should he do?
-
Additional Information
the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has
#paventure posting#poll#polls#choose your own adventure#for the record - if he had gone to the stranger's cottage. walked all the way to the villiage. or kept walking all night. the hooded figure#wouldnt have had a safe place to corner him and would have had to wait for another day. all the other options#(abandoned barn. sleep out in the woods. etc.) would lead to the same thing#The dice lady was letting him know someone has been following him. perhaps multiple someones#I was also going to include the options 'threaten to blow up the entire barn with magic and then nobody gets the egg'#and an option for him to just throw the egg on the ground and break it#but those seem more out of character and also breaking the egg would end his quest anyway since he would have nothing#to bring the Innkeeper's brother anymore lol#also a 'tell the cat to attack the robber' option but I was afraid too many people would choose that thinking it was#funny or a cool way out of the situation when like.. realistically the cat would get hurt actually and I don't want to endanger them#or have to write about them getting harmed lol. WHICH I know is a choice. I could be like 'wow the cat is actually a#magical cat and they explode the person and win hooray!' . but it feels too far fetched given the hooded stranger's background#they're not going to be like completely incapacitated by one small cat#things must be goofy and silly and fantasy but also.. underlying realism to an extent#I held back on not making him get more injuries after sailing down a river in a dinky little raft because I really think thats probably#quite dangerous hjknjk. I stated it was a very slow moving river specifically to make it seem a little more plausible but#I feel like in real life the current would just smash your raft into a rock in like 10 minutes lol#ANYWAY.. uh oh. boy in danger!#he can get out of it though. I believe in him#somehow an unskilled swagless penniless nervousboy can still make his way in the world#(he does have SOME skills ghhgh.. just like. not really adventuring suited ones. since he just started adventuring like#less than a week ago and has no training or practical experience aside from reading a lot of storybooks)#also I know his belt thing is on the wrong shoulder... shhhh... I still don't feel good and drew very quickly and am not#going back to make changes lol
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skysometric · 2 years
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New look, same old blog!
welcome to a wholly improved skysometric.co! after years of dreams, sketches, redesigns, code, and slamming my head against the wall, i've finally fulfilled my dream of having a blog that matches my design language. i'm so excited to put it to good use as the front page for my creativity and journaling 💖
the blog's still based on tumblr, using a new custom theme. in truth, it's just a heavy edit of the default theme... and quite a mess of one, at that! but hey, it looks and works great, and isn't that all that counts in the end?
(speaking of which, are you reading this on the tumblr app? come check out the new site!)
About the redesign
on the left menu are links to my main sites, and core tumblr links like the askbox and archive. there's also a theme toggle for light and dark mode – i'm especially proud of how the dark theme turned out! the light theme needs a little work, but i think it's a good start to improve on in the future. oh and btw, these animations for the menus opening and closing? they're pure css, even on mobile~
the right menu has featured tags to browse stuff i've made and written, as well as a search box for anything not featured. tags are a core part of the updated site, serving as collections of art and writing – so they have extra prominence both in the menu and at the bottom of each post. all my most important tags have icons that are loaded dynamically based on their name! and any tags that don't have an icon use the default hashtag. i'm really proud of all the design work that went into it, and i'll show off the icons on their own pretty soon ✨
posts themselves can be blue, purple, or pink, matching my main color palette. the color is based on the post id! so each post's color is always the same, whether you're viewing it on the front page, tag pages, or the post itself.
Design history
this updated blog has been four years in the making, surviving both my name change and multiple iterations of my design language – yet somehow, it still looks just like my years old sketches. i'm impressed at how much i was able to rework and carry forward with me, especially with how many of these ideas felt like dead ends at the time!
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that early screenshot at the top is from waayyy back when i was considering moving away from tumblr. it was very tempting to self-host and "own my data" as they say... but i would miss out on all the social features like reblogs. plus, on tumblr people can follow me and see all my posts in the app, as well as on my site – what's not to love? so even though the site's time may be past, i'm sticking with tumblr until they literally nuke it out of orbit~
Cleaning up, carrying forward
i've had this blog for nearly ten years now, and the way i've used it has changed tremendously over that time. what started as my first foray into social media turned into a space for sharing things i found that made me happy, sharing my philosophies and outlook on life, sharing my struggles through college and burnout, and now sharing my journey discovering my voice as a person and a creator. so now that i'm a new person with a new voice, i should probably clear out all those crusty old cobwebs and start fresh, right?
not a chance!
if anything, i went back and made sure my old posts look just as good as my new ones, cleaning up tags and backporting my new code to work with old tumblr post layouts. i want to carry my history forward with me! for all these years this blog has been my journal, and even though my journaling changed with time, that core purpose hasn't. honestly, after all the cleaning, i'm inspired to return to those old methods of journaling – share more of myself, share more of what makes me happy, be more free and open and wild ✨
(that said, some of those early posts were especially raw! those have been archived for now. maybe i'll remake the sentiment behind them someday...)
My promise to myself
in the wake of college i realized i was posting less here on the blog; this redesign was an attempt to give it more importance, so that i would use it more. but what i didn't realize was that i was posting less due to burnout... and i stalled out on the redesign, also due to burnout. a double whammy! so i used my blog less than ever, and it languished for years.
on top of that, giving my blog more importance made it more of a Serious Website™ in my head, a place where i had to put my best foot forward at all times. that made me want to post here even less, only when i finished some big or important project! but my blog was never intended for this – i've been posting random nonsense since the beginning.
so what started as a promise that i would use my blog more, became a promise that i would make my blog A Big Deal. and that's not healthy for me! so i stepped back and re-evaluated. first, i started consciously calling this place my journal, to make it a sketchy and rough place with intent. second, i ultimately decided to redesign it anyway, with a new promise: to make it somewhere i'm proud of posting more often, no matter what those posts look like.
and with that promise fulfilled, i'm ready to get back to journaling 💙
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stalksbyakuyatogami · 3 years
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If not this post about requests getting closed, I would never try. Omg, I'm so scared, if you find this uncomfortable to write, it's totally okay, just ignore this!
May I request some headcanons on yandere Fuyuhiko and Byakuya (separately ofc) with s/o who acts all bratty and won't give up on attempts to escape them, but it mostly because they just want extra attention, since both of them are quite busy with their work?
Yandere Fuyuhiko and Byakuya With A Bratty S/O
Don't be scared, anon :)) your request is awesomeeeee /gen
TW: yandere, cussing, imprisonment, high places, angry bois
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Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu
•He is hella annoyed.
•And as soon as he knows that you tried to escape again, there is not a sentence without at least a single cuss in it.
•"Huh?! They're threatening to jump out the window again?"
•Sometimes— no, always. He always wonders why he even fell for you. You always threaten to escape, but you're all bark no bite. And this kept him awake at night. It's been days and he still can't figure it out.
•Aside from getting angry, he is of course, also worried. He can't afford to lose his lover, and he promised to protect them even if it costs his life. Hell, he would even order Peko to do it.
•Sometimes, he has intrusive thoughts like, what if he breaks you one time so that you'd never do it again? What if he punishes you so bad that it'll give you nightmares and traumatize you for months?
•He consulted these to Peko and she immediately disagreed. Her disagreement was just a suggestion, though.
•Nevertheless, he didn't entertain those thoughts anymore.
•Another form of being bratty is when you insist to participate in yakuza activity; which Fuyuhiko would never let you do.
•It's too dangerous, this and that bullshit, yeah yeah
•He probably locks you up if you get too annoying.
•There's not a day that you wouldn't cause any disruption in Fuyuhiko's day. And of course, there is also no day that he wouldn't hunt you.
•Have a happy scolding.
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Byakuya Togami
•For the nth time, Byakuya is a very busy man. So he doesn't have that much time to take care of you. So if he does have some free time, he'd spend it all bonding with you.
•He always pinches the bridge of his nose every time he catches the news of you running down the hallways again.
•None of the maids and butlers can stop for whatever reason, so he himself has to confront you.
•It seems that you would only stop when he's the one in front of you. He's intimidating and scary when he has his eyes on you. It terrifies you.
•But of course, since you want his attention, you still run away from him.
•Because of this, he decided to make rules that will benefit you both
.•You run away even though he's already the one facing you? Punishment. You open the vent? Punishment. He sees the doorknob rattle even just a bit? Yeah, punishment.
•You don't wanna die of starvation, right? That's why you tried to tolerate him up until now.
•Now, the scenario that had him lock you into a room:
•Could you even escape if he's got you locked in such a luxurious room? Complete with almost all necessities except food.•
Byakuya can afford anything except your escape. He went through all the trouble of getting you and you're just gonna leave him? Hell no.
•But sometimes, everything has its own ways.
•The bathroom had a vent that was just enough for you to reach when you stand on the toilet. 
•You opened it and crawled along, without knowing where it lead. It's time to cause mischief again, but every time you commit it, part of you of course wants to get out of this wealthy hell.
•You encountered cobwebs through your journey. But it was a small price to pay for salvation.
•Although, there was this one particular vent area that was really squeaky. Out of curiosity, you tried pushing it a little more just for the heck of it. One last push and you fell down to the ground.
•Byakuya heavily disturbed when something suddenly fell off in front of his office table and disrupted his silence. He almost jumped out of his seat.
•And those are the rare times where he'd say, "What the hell?!"
•You were too busy getting rid of the dust to mind the man in disbelief in front of you. You didn't notice him until he cleared his throat.
•His eyes said, "You've got some explaining to do."
•And all you can mutter was, "Oh, shit."
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Pls, why did i go overboard with Togami bae. Thank you for requesting, anon!
-Mod Toko
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ilove-cedricdiggory · 3 years
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Okay, I'm having a H O R R I B L E day and needed some fluff so I'ma write me some. So, here is
Falling in love with you
Fred x Hufflepuff Reader
Requested - yes. by me.
Summary - With the weight of your family looming over your shoulders, Fred helps you to relax in the hold of his own and the words falling from his lips.
Trigger Warning - fluff, family issues, I think that's it.
You were sat in the library, a dark and dusty corner. Your body was shaking with each sob, leaving you breathless and covered in snot.
You had just gotten another owl from your sister, going off about your parents, yet again. You were in your 7th year, but being Muggleborn left you with the problems of, well, the muggle world. You were the only witch in your family, which was something seeing as you were the 5th of 6 kids.
Growing up, your family was deep in the world of CPS, having gone through many of cases before you were 10. Each time, your parents pushed you and your siblings in the middle, using each of you against the other. Now that you were 17, and away from the house most of the time, you believed it would cease to happen. The only issue was, you were the only sibling that still had contact with everyone.
Sister's didn't talk to sister's, brother didn't talk to sister's, sister's didn't talk to brothers, children didn't talk to parents, except you. Having been put in Hufflepuff was no surprise to yourself, or others around you, always the "people pleaser". This left you being the only one to speak with each one of your siblings, along with both of your parents.
You had just gotten a letter from your oldest sister, explaining to you their dislike of your parents, along with the fact that, absolutely not, they could not send me any gifts for my kids.
You now had to break it to both of your parents that, no, they could not get anything for their grandchildren, and no, their daughter didn't want anything to do with them.
The weight of your family sat on your shoulders, having broke your spine once more, leaving you sobbing. Knowing you couldn't make it back to your common room before the tears fell freely, you found this spot in the library, away from eyes and ears. Unsure of how long you had sat there, your body was letting you know how worn out you now were from the amount of tears it allowed to slip down your cheeks.
The space you sat in was dark, absolutely silent, and cobwebs littering the books, which is why you were surprised to hear footsteps closing in on you. That was, until, your boyfriend appeared, holding the famous Maurauders Map open and in his hands. "There you are! You missed dinner, how dare you!" He laughed, moving to your frame.
You sniffled, attempting to wipe the remaining tears away from your puffy cheeks with your robe before he got too close. His adamant eyes fell on your face as he moved quicker, holding you in his arms, pulling you to his chest. "Oh, my love, it's okay. I'm right here." His soft, patient voice caused you to sniffle once more, refusing to let more tears fall from your cheeks.
"'M sorry I missed dinner." You whispered, your voice breaking.
"Oh, sweets, it's okay. I'll have George run to the kitchens and get you some food, you know that. Now, talk to me, hm? What's got my beautiful girl so upset?" You looked up at your boyfriend, your eyes as wide as a doe, tears slowly filling them once more.
"It's 'm sister." You mumbled, clutching the fabric of his own robes. "Oh, love, I'm sorry." You had informed your red head of your family situation in 5th year, wanting to be open and honest with him.
After letting you cry in his arms once more, he slowly stood up, clutching you to his chest. "Let's get you cuddled up, yeah?" He asked softly, your eyes closed as you relished in the warmth of his arms. "Yes please." You whispered, your hold tightening on his robes.
He walked slowly, glaring at any wandering eyes. He could care less about any states, but refused to let you feel uncomfortable about being vulnerable to him, especially because of other people who had no business looking at you wrong.
Once you were safely in his room, Fred having told George to go fetch you some food, he helped you undress and into his sweats and sweater, holding you to his chest.
You relaxed considerably, feeling comfortable in his room, and especially in his hold. "'m okay, bub." You whispered, feeling his eyes set on you.
"I know you are love, but you don't have to be. It's okay to break, it's okay to feel weak, and it's more than okay to let me take some of the weight for you." His voice was soft, his fingers running through your hair as he spoke.
You sniffled, moving closer into his hold as you attempted to not cry once more.
"Let's cheer you up, hm?" He asked softly, his other hand rubbing the skin of your back, having found its way under his sweater as you cuddled.
"Sing to me?"
Fred smiled down at you, nodding as he cleared his throat. "Always, my love."
You smiled as he thought, going through the possibilities. You had showed him tons of muggle music throughout the years, constantly playing it in your bedroom and at the Burrow the times you stayed over.
"Wise men say, only fools rush in"
His voice has come suddenly after a moment of silence, but comforted you nonetheless.
"But I can't help, falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help, falling in love with you."
You hummed with his voice, feeling the rumble in his chest as he contacted.
"Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be."
Your heavy eyes and heavy heart grew comfortable, slowly pushing you into sleep in the hold of your boyfriend.
"Take my hand, take my whole life too."
George now quietly walked in but seeing Fred shake his head, he slowly stepped out, leaving you in the silence once more as your conscious fell.
Your hold stayed tight on Fred as you fell deeper and deeper in your sleep, the weight of the world, the weight of your family falling from your being as you slept in the arms of your love.
Fred felt you fall to sleep in his hold, his heart growing as it always did when it happened, feeling nothing but pride at the fact that you felt safe enough to sleep in his arms like you were.
But his mouth fell open once more, whispering the words of the song softly, his gaze lovingly set on your sleeping frame.
"For I can't help, falling in love with you."
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nighttimepixels · 4 years
Note
So... I've been seeing wonderful people on here lately making versions of their own HorrorFell Sans and well I'm desperately bi and hooked and wanna know if. there's a HorrorFell Serif....?
You are all criminals I’m supposed to be doing things
I love you all holy shit big same so
below a cut because it got long! CW for bear-trap related injuries.
It’s time to meet Dusk.
=====
They weren’t supposed to turn on the machine again.
The guys weren’t exactly ones for promises, but after the incident, after the girls had managed to prove how unsafe it was, how unstable-
-they weren’t supposed to. They weren’t supposed to, to drag anyone else into this, to mess up even more timelines, it was a standoff, but it was stable in the meantime, or it should have been-
Someday, you’d meet this Sans, and you’d personally kick his coccyx into next Tuesday, you swore, for this and for everything else-
But right now, chances were looking pretty slim of seeing it to next Tuesday yourself.
“G-guys, it’s okay, really-”
“she’s got you by the fucking throat-!”
“If you fucking hurt her- te arrancó el brazo y lo tiro al mar-!”
You inhaled sharply, tears pricking at your eyes as the hand around your middle squeezed you tighter, your back pressed to a jagged, massive set of ribs, bare but for the massive coat shielding much of them, and draped around your form. The other hand at your throat held no weapon - but it was a weapon, even without the claws that threatened to prick your skin.
But the hand of the enormous skeleton woman holding you wasn’t squeezing your throat. It hadn’t once.
Blood, meanwhile, dripped slow and hot down your leg, staining the dead leaves of the forest floor below.
You wanted to curse your luck - curse the fact that you were on a walk in the woods with the dogs when Alpha’s monitoring programs picked up the subtle fluctuation in space-time that marked that machine being turned on for even an instant. You wanted to curse the fact that you’d tripped on a dumb root, cracking your phone and, apparently, breaking the ringer so you didn’t hear the many calls that came in. You wanted to curse the fact that you’re a magnet for skeletal trouble-
-or you would, if it hadn’t also brought you too much good this past year…But when you’d stumbled across the wounded, massive skeleton now clutching you, your feet dangling more than five feet off the ground, your first thought had been concern as you only saw her back turned to you, and a bear trap big enough to catch a rhinoceros nearly snapping her leg in half-
“Blade, holy shit- are you… are you okay-?”
The massive hole in her skull had been so familiar… but a moment later, you’d realized it was wrong. As was the way her head had snapped around… two massive gold fangs implanted in a mouth overrun with nigh-feral sharp teeth, a jagged red eyelight in the wrong socket, the hole on the wrong side of her head, the scars all wrong, so wrong-
The fear and fury in her face so unfamiliar and dangerous.
And yet… you… you didn’t leave.
You were nearly an hour’s walk away from the house. You shouldn’t have gone alone in the first place, but you had the dogs, far more intelligent than any normal animal, and you’d been cooped up for weeks because of bad weather and-
-and then, slowly, murmuring, crouching low with your hands out in a deference of power, soft nothings and reassurances spilling out of your mouth… you were approaching, circling in a wide berth to her front. Her snarls and growls were so loud you nearly lost your balance in the physicality, but…
… but slowly, while you were out of reach, she began to growl quieter, pain eking out over anything, though not once had she blinked…
A new arrival, you’d known. You’d found out about the machines a long while back now, and… there was no questioning it. But her tibia and fibula were cut almost clean through in a trap you couldn’t help but wonder if was from her world, brought with her - how long had she been out here? What was running through her head?
Why were you risking yourself-
The sound of fire, the feel of your own fear when your old place had crumbled around you… the soul-breaking relief when you’d been rescued, despite the danger…
You steeled yourself, and slowly came closer.
It took several tries - she nearly lunged at you once, when your hand slipped, digging the trap teeth in on her. You apologized, and kept talking- did she even… even speak English? Gods, you had no idea. But the sound of your voice seemed to help, so you kept at it- noticing more and more scars, noticing how terrifyingly dusty the wound was becoming- when you gestured for her to hold the one side to help undo the mechanism, trying to explain, ask for help as it was too strong for you alone-
-she’d done so, her hand larger than your head. Despite the pain, her grip didn’t shake, but you heard her teeth gritting, creaking as they ground down, erratic, unsteady magic charging the air around her-
And at last you’d freed her.
The trap to the side, you’d hurried to look at her removed leg, shedding your hoodie, forgetting to move slow. You missed the flicker in her gaze, pain undeniable in every shadow of her face, the moment of confusion, of hunger, of hesitance, of her reaching towards you-
But you’d looked up then, sweater in your hands, hovering over the horrifying break, an injury you were certain would have killed her otherwise- ready to bind her up.
Her hand had frozen at the level of your throat.
Like a rabbit in the gaze of a wolf, you’d frozen.
The wind rustled the leaves overhead, afternoon sun growing long, dimmer behind gathering clouds.
Her hand slowly came closer.
You didn’t move, a fine tremble in your spine, but- you didn’t look away.
She paused again. Watching. Waiting- your heart was racing, but- you didn’t run. For a thousand reasons, you didn’t run, despite some deeper instinct beyond logic begging at you to.
And then she’d brushed a lock of hair back from your throat, catching a bead of sweat with it, and lingering over your pulse.
Oh so slowly, her pinprick eyelight dilated.
“… y..ou…”
Without warning, a shout in the distance, cutting in as if through a phone line picked up startled you both. The dogs, waiting, tense, worried just a few feet behind you, barked- and all hell had broken loose.
Serif had shortcut into the clearing, her eyelights no sooner landing on you than taking in the massive, dangerous looking skeleton with her hand at your throat. She’d sworn, magic suddenly flaring at her fingertips before, as if desperately wrenching her senses back, it vanished, and she lifted her hands, furious and hiding too much emotion but clearly attempting to look reasonable, to calm down the newcomer.
It was too late.
The sudden appearance, the split second of aggressive magic was enough. The injured skeleton woman was surging forward, enveloping you- before, as if forgotten, her leg gave out with a sickening crunch.
You both fell, and your leg slammed into the hellish, too-jagged bear trap you’d just removed from her leg. The jagged metal and sharpened bone teeth of the closed trap protruding from it cut into your leg and dragged viciously as intertia and gravity took over before she could catch herself, taking the brunt of the fall-
The smell of blood had a visceral effect on the woman holding you, even as your vision was cut off by the ground and her arms and jacket- your scream mingled with a guttural sound, a language glitching and feral- clashing with the sounds of more people arriving, hitting the ground running, swearing, your vision blurring and whiting with pain lancing from your leg straight through you and whiting out your conscious mind for a moment- vertigo as you were suddenly upright-
Now you stared at your friends, leg throbbing, hot blood staining your jeans and shoe, struggling to keep your vision clear and not panic. She was cornered - you were too, you supposed, in her arms. Her leg was… it wasn’t right. You couldn’t quite see it when you glanced down, and that was… a problem. She seemed to be propped against a tree, against a steep hill that was nearly cliff- staring down, chest heaving at Serif, Scarlet, Crimson, Sapphire, and Cinnamon. You had no idea where the others were. There was no time to spare to think about it - or how they’d found you at all-
“P-please, I think she’s just scared, I think she’s feeling my pulse, s-since- I’m hurt-”
“doesn’t mean she gets t'hold you hostage,” Cinnamon’s low voice was a drawl, but her stance was one you’d only seen once or twice. Ready, ready in a way that would set your internal alarms off if they weren’t already pealing.
“Come now, let’s… let’s just take it easy,” Sapphire’s voice was measured, even almost warm - her eyelights were steady, and she was the only one who didn’t visibly appear to be a moment’s away from a fighting stance. Still, her voice was almost too measured. You knew her too well to miss it. Nonetheless, she met your gaze, and her chest took a steady inhale, then slow exhale, ever so minutely.
You blinked, tears threatening to spill at the silent message to breathe, that she’d stay calm too, she’d try and de-escalate-
The rough, static-like inflection of the woman’s speech behind you twisted and rumbled, short, dark, aggressive-
A huff of air tickled your hair, and you felt her… her head, dip down to the back of yours. It cut through the pain, almost tingling with a wild sort of magic, but… not in a bad way.
The others looked confused in varying degrees, and Crimson’s arm out only barely kept Scarlet from acting- but there was a flicker of deeper confusion yet on Serif’s face… one of almost-recognition and angrier confusion on Cinnamon’s-
But Crimson’s sockets widened.
“ay, ni de coña-”
Several eyelights snapped to her as she swore, shaking her head as if to clear it of cobwebs-
And then… slowly, she stumbled through a handful of similar sounds.
Words.
Glitching, uneven, but also rich like radio static - if a little clumsier in her mouth-
You felt as much as heard the surprised intake of breath behind you.
And slowly, came a response.
Crimson frowned, scowled outright, sockets squinting and head cocking a bit. A few more words- a grunt, then a continuation that sounded corrected-
An angrier response from the woman holding you-
“could you please let us in on the conversation, thanks,” hissed Serif sharply at Crimson, but she was promptly waved off as Crimson haltingly tried a few more words-
And slowly, the hand at your throat drifted just a little further down.
“… n..o.”
“pendejo-” Crimson swore, making a sharp rude gesture - but not at your captor, at the sky.
“¿Qué le hizo?” Scarlet was sharp, too quick, her Spanish rough and thick with anger-
“that bastard must’ve turned it on alright- she’s…. joder, she’s like Blade but- us too, hermana. our estrelita here apparently helped her outta a trap she was dyin’ in, and when we showed up-”
“shit,” Serif swore softly, her hands lowering again, anger and stress and understanding flickering over her face.
“she’s still holdin’ her,” Cinnamon pointed out, words tight - but her posture had relaxed… slightly. “we gotta get her some first aid-”
She paused, then, quieter.
“both of ‘em…. fuck, her leg’s completely…”
“Please, let us help you- both of you-” Sapphire’s voice was earnest, firm but gentle- but you couldn’t quite focus on her. On any of them, now, not with your vision threatening to tunnel.
You were starting to shiver a little, following along but only just. The wound in your leg must be… pretty bad. You were feeling faint. Your body shifted in time with the growing shallower breaths of the woman holding you…
Crimson was swearing, attempting a word again, and again, but clearly not knowing how or what to say in that strange language-
“what even is it you’re speakin’-” Cinnamon pressed.
“shh, it’s just- it’s– old, old monster shit, most forgot except uh- certain scientist, and a few others, it’s been ages but-”
Suddenly, you were higher off the ground, your mind slipping for a moment in vertigo. The next, you realized… both her arms were supporting you, cradling you close, a modified bridal carry to accommodate the size difference and your wounded leg that-
“Oh god-”
You dry heaved, forcing yourself to look away from the open gash in your leg.  You’d never been good with great quantities of blood, but - but you’d seen white in the deep, long wound, and your head was spinning, fuck-
“…n.ow. b… oth.”
The two halting words were punctuated by a longer phrase in that radio-static language you couldn’t understand. Your eyes were closing, unable to focus any longer. Whatever was going to happen, you couldn’t fight it… at least… at least they didn’t seem like the others were going to fight, either…
“you gotta give her to us- you can’t pass through a shortcut with that-”
Your mind was fading, and you barely registered the harsher, almost booming radio-static words falling from the woman holding you possessively, protectively. The following swears tumbling from Crimson might as well have been white noise...
“Take… take care of her, first,” you mumbled, not seeing the other girl’s attention snap to you, nor the wide stare of the woman holding you. “She was… d-dust, at… at her wound… please don’t let- let her… fall…….”
And with that, your mind slipped away in pain and anemic exhaustion.
It wouldn’t be till much later that you found out that the girls had apparently surged into action that, and somehow, together, managed to shortcut you and your new friend back to Blade and Twist’s place.
Both of you were patched up…
But the cost of teleporting while so grievously injured cost this new arrival her lower leg. A cost she apparently knew she might pay.
You cried when you found out.
But you’d also awoken in her arms, a place she’d apparently refused to let you free of, even at Blade’s anger and Twist’s worry. Her leg was gone, yours was patched and stitched by Twist’s patent, phenomenal care. And still, you were there... warm, bundled in new blankets, with the woman’s eyelight rarely leaving you, even as Crimson and Serif explained what happened, Blade looming nearby.
She couldn’t speak English well, you found out then, too. She’d… forgotten it. What monsters were left in her world forgot it - forgot a lot, apparently, forced into a feral survival, hunted by… something.
But in the end, to start… you were able to help her choose a new nickname, at least. A beginning. A start, because… Despite their concern, well, none of the girls were going to kick this new arrival out on her own. Crimson in particular had been there too, the whole time, helping translate broken sentences and try to parse together what she knew…
Dusk, she chose as her name, after a long game of suggestions and narrowing in on sounds and concepts she seemed less opposed to. She seemed pleased… if you were reading her right.
And… she didn’t have a sister that came with her.
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rrickgrrimes8 · 4 years
Text
Late - Tyler Joseph x reader imagine
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As you arrived you saw that not only had the miles and miles of queueing fans had completely disintegrated but that the entire building practically shook because of the beautiful yet chaotic melody of his soul.
"Great I'm late to my own boyfriends concert." You whispered to yourself thinking out loud. You took the keys out of the ignition once you were safely parked in the appropriate spot. You hopped out of the car immediately regretting don't bringing a coat. You looked over to the building again and was completely mesmerised by the sound of your boyfriends voice.
"Am I screaming to an empty sky?"
You heard from behind the door and you subconsciously looked up at the gloomy winter weather and looked at it in awe. It was truly beautiful. You could almost touch and you moved your hand up to the sky to trace over the remaining clouds of the day before it came night.
"Empty sky, no way, that's me cause one half of my heart is free"
You looked between the 'empty sky' and the vibrating door and you felt the urge to know more. You always loved his music no matter how weird or crazy it was because no matter what you found it truly beautiful. You knew it was a masterpiece. For instance right now just with two lines out of hundreds in this song you were completely in a trance at his beauty. His beautiful voice. His beautiful words. His beautiful everything.
"Empty sky, no way, that's me cause the other half of my hearts asleep."
You took a deep breath preparing yourself for the raging crowds that you're about to expose yourself too. You petite hand pushed open the bars door and you pleasantly saw the image of your two best friends unraveling their souls, their passions, their love onto the audience and now onto you.
You walked further into the screaming group just as lovely began to start.
"You say things with your mouth cobwebs and flies come out." You smiled up to your sweaty ass boyfriend and laughed at the absurdity of his outfit. He was wearing what he typically wore but it didn't make it any stranger or funnier. His slim body was wrapped in a floral kimono and his beautiful brown eyes were covered by some white circular shades.
"I hear a second voice behind your tongue somehow."
There it is again. The beauty of his words shattering my concentration and bringing me into a new world of sometimes dark but definitely deep thoughts.
He's perfect. You thought.
"Luckily I can read your mind flies and cobwebs unwind."
God his voice is beautiful.
"They will not take you down. They will not cast you out."
You found yourself singing and dancing along to the beautiful melody just like everyone else in the audience. I kept my eyes on Tyler practically burning wholes in his kimono covered body. He started to dance around a bit and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his attempts at being somewhat graceful.
"Don't be gone." He sang.
God my heart can't handle this.
"Don't be gone."
Yep 100% my heart can't handle this.
"Don't be gone."
Okay I think I'm dying.
"Don't be gone."
I'm dead. Deceased. RIP (Y/n) (y/l/n). Died because Tyler Joseph was to precious.
"Don't be gone."
Goodbye life.
Before I knew it the song had ended and the entire audience lay dormant probably trying to comprehend how incredible that man is.
"We are twenty one pilots and so are you!"
Josh and Tyler screamed into the sea of their fans and the whole crowd erupted into a frenzy of screams and way to overexcited teens. The room started to clear out pretty quickly so I decided to go round the building and to the backstage. I wondered the corridors looking for any semblance for the talented duo.
Finally I arrived at the door which entailed a handwritten sign saying:
TWENTY ONE PILOTS - NO BANANAS ALLOWED.
Oh my lord Tyler. You thought to yourself while shaking your head. You raised your hand to knock on the door but was stopped by a very scared Joshua opening the door.
"Oh thank god, (y/n)!" He said picking you up and wrapping you in a warm hug. You hugged back immediately completely ignoring the confusion you were feeling at the moment.
"It's good to see you too Josh." He pulled away and checked your body for any sign of injury which increased you confusion.
"Thank god your okay!" He exclaimed before pulling you into another bone crushing hug.
"Why wouldn't I be okay?" You asked still hugging Josh. He pulled back again but kept his hands on your shoulders.
"Y-you weren't here. W-we couldn't see you during the s-show." Josh said stumbling over his words while squeezing you shoulders lightly.
"Oh yeah I lost track of time but I saw the end of the concert though."
"Yeah I kinda guessed that but uh well I'm really glad you here right now b-because well um-"
"Because what, Josh?"
"It's Tyler." He said quickly pulling you into the room and locking the door.
"What about Tyler?" You said looking straight at a very concerned Josh. He just looked back guilt and worry evident in his deep brown eyes. Suddenly he looked over to the corner of the room where soft whimpers could be heard.
"T-Tyler" You squeaked, looking over to your sobbing and hunched over boyfriend.
"Oh Tyler." You whispered strolling over to his sobbing shell. You sat down next to him and pulled him into your lap. He was still wearing his signature kimono but he lost the glasses and just looking at his eyes it was evident he was in distress.
"It's okay baby I'm here." You said in hopes it would give him any sort of comfort or reassurance. At the sound of your voice his head perked up and he finally saw you.
"(y-y/n)?" He asked still crying heavily but the feeling of seeing you made him calm down slightly.
"Yeah I'm here baby. I'm here." You cooed him while rocking him back and forth ever so slightly.
"I-I t-thought something h-had happened-d to y-you."
"I know Tyler but I'm okay. I'm safe." You reassured him and he lifted his hands and rested them on the sides of your face.
"I-I was s-so sca-scared to y-you we're h-hurt o-or if-f yo-you w-were-"
He cut himself off with a loud excruciatingly painful sob. You put your hands on his puffy cheeks and brought his lips to yours.
"I'm okay baby. I here with you and I'm not going anywhere."
"I-I Lo-love yo-u"
"I love you too baby"
You peaked his lips again but he pulled you in for a longer and more passionate endeavour. You reluctantly pulled away and looked at him in awe.
This man is mine.
"Oh and I didn't miss all of the concert." You said smiling wide.
"O-oh yeah?"
"Yep" You said popping the 'p'.
"I was there to see lovely and might I add it was incredible."
"I-t was-wasn't that g-good."
Tyler's breathing finally seemed to even put even though he was still stumbling over his words a bit.
"Oh darling it was. You have no idea how mesmerised I was by you. You almost killed me with your voice." Tyler laughed while stroking some hairs out of your face.
"You were good also Joshua." You stated looking over to the corner where a very uncomfortable Josh sat on his phone. Tyler's head shot over to him as well causing josh to start laughing at his reaction.
"Thank you (y/n)"
"W-wait were you there the whole time?"
"Yep."
"And you didn't think to you know just leave and give us a moment."
"Well I mean I did give you a moment Tyler I have given you many moments. I just stayed in the room for them as well." Josh smiles goofily at them and you both started to laugh.
"Anyways we should get going I need sleep sleep."
"And we need to have sex." You said to Tyler but also grinning at both Josh and Tyler who wore hilarious shocked faces.
"Wait are you serious?" Tyler asked clearly getting a bit excited.
"Only if you want to baby."
"Ew oh my lord ew shut up both of you." Josh said gagging and running out of the room.
"He's such a child." You stated rolling your eyes while Tyler laughed at the idiocy that is his best friend.
"But in all seriousness where you joking before?" You grinned mischievously and slid your hand into his.
"Let's go home and see." Tyler grinned like a child and practically pulled you out of the room.
"You're such a dork."
"But you love me."
"Hell yeah I do Mr Joseph."
"I love you too Miss (y/l/n)."
———————————————————
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ukbip666 · 3 years
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Hello Tumblr . Is there anybody out there ?
So this is my first attempt at posting on my BLOG and I thought I'd take this opportunity to not just figure things out and find my feet but introduce myself to the community and maybe stumble across like minded folk .
Firstly I would just like to say that I really have no specific aim or goal with this blog other than to use it as a tool in my on going recovery . A sort of public journal for logging my thoughts and emotions , clear the cobwebs and relieve myself of some of the inanity and chaos that grows within me on an hourly basis and eventually over time can become somewhat of a problem . I don't have any expectations at all about people reading or it becoming a popular read haha Its purely a personal outlet and I intend to be completely honest and transparent , making no apologies over its content or whether I come across as insane as I do in my head . I'm sure I will and I'm alright with that .
I will say briefly that I am in fact recovering from a relapse in Bipolar disorder , its something I have struggled with all my adult life and I'm still learning now , trying to tackle it and salvage a little happiness and stability within my life .I am indeed just a work in progress .
So that's that in mind I shall be searching blogs that are of interest to me and maybe have an opportunity to meet some new friends or maybe not ? Time will tell but I'm looking forward to baring my soul and sharing the unedited and version of it on here , maybe in time it will be more of a personal thing , we will see and maybe Ill be following a few blogs and possibly in the process of creating a new one . I am a complete novice at this so its a great big learning curve but hopefully serve some purpose in my life ,it certainly cant do me any harm anyway .
So ,hello once more I look forward to seeing some interesting blogs and creations .Take it easy people have a lovely weekend and if you cant be good be careful . I'm not fully compos mentis yet so I hope I have at least made some sense here , I may be a little disjointed at times but and irrational the next but I am a friendly person with honest with and good intentions have time to anybody or anything . I am also approachable and welcome comments , advice maybe even an opinion from time to time as long as its structured I have no issues at all .I do have a great respect for others and following through some experiences I had those last couple of years I realise there is no time in my life for being cool or ignoring a helping hand or reassuring comment from someone I may not know too well . Part of my recent and on going philosophy/ realisation that life is too short for many things , we as fellow human beings and sharing the flaws and hesitancy with actions , over a lifetime I bet that time adds up . Just my philosophy anyway , I'm always trying to improve wherever I can , be as productive as I can be .
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peggingtaron · 4 years
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Belle & Edward
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Pairing: Edward x Belle (Edward Scissorhands x Beauty & The Beast crossover)
Summary: Belle, with a dreamy far off look and a nose stuck in a book, is isolated from the common folk that judge her, and dissatisfied with her life in the small suburban town. Upon exploring the old abandoned castle, far off from the town, she discovers a boy with scissors as hands, living his life all these years in the ancient shadows of the castle. A scissor-handed boy named Edward.
Word Count: 2.6K
A/N: I started writing this on wattpad when I was 16 so excuse the occasional cringe
Chapter 1 — Little Town
Once upon a time, by a little town, there was a mansion. In that mansion lived an Inventor. The Great Inventor made many odd contraptions, spectacular devices and wonderful gadgets. But none so odd, none so spectacular and none so wonderful than his creation of a man. He gave him inside, a heart, a brain, everything. Well, almost everything...
The Inventor was old, so very old. He died before he got to finish the man he invented. So the man was left by himself with scissors as hands...Incomplete and all alone.
His name was Edward.
Edward had spent years, alone, isolated in the shadows of the deserted castle as dust and cobwebs collected around him. He knew, in his unfinished state that he would spend all his days without anyone's company. Forever in solitude. Forever desolate.
For who could ever learn to love a beast?
><><
This little town was never an exciting place during the morning. In fact, this little town wasn't the least bit exciting at all for Belle. Belle spent her mornings on strolls around the neighbourhood. She did this everyday, perhaps in hopes to spot even the slightest moments of routines to change. But no, this was never the case. Belle would find men coming out their houses at the exact same time, driving their cars out their driveways in a practised, perfect pattern, children playing on their lawn with the exact same games, women keeping up their gardens in the exact same fashion of their neighbours.
In disappointment of the unchanging cycle, Belle would bury her nose behind a book and everything around her would seem to blur. She didn't regard her surroundings as all she would see were the visions of princes and princesses, pirates and sword fights, fairies and mermaids, all brought to life by the words of her books. The more impossible the story, the better.
Belle would find herself so enraptured by the premise of her story, she never regarded the conspicuous whispers of townsfolk as she passed them. Not that it would effect her at all. You would think by Belle living in this town for most her life, her neighbours would think of something else to sneer at. Though, it was only Belle, and with the exact same whispers as the day before.
"Look, there's that strange girl." "Dazed and distracted as always." "That girl's always got her head in the clouds!" "No denying, she's a funny girl that Belle!" "Shame that such a beauty is so odd." "What an odd child."
Not one comment could faze her. Nothing could make her look up from her book.
It was because of this, that she was rather surprised when she found path blocked by a boy. She looked up from her book with a sigh, rather expectant to see what would be in front of her.
"Bonjour, Belle!" The boy flashed a handsome grin at her.
"Hello, Gaston." Belle mumbled.
Belle was often greeted in French since moving to town, from a small French provincial village. She had no idea why this tickled and amused Gaston and her classmates so much. She was after all, immaculate in her English.
Gaston always held a confident demeanour with him, all too proud of his tall, slender, handsome figure. Many girls of Belle's age envied that Gaston favoured her attention, being that she was such an outcast to people of Gaston's supposed calibre. Belle was not at all pleased with the attention she got from Gaston either. Beneath his superficial pearly white smile surfaced a spoiled, egotistical, empty-headed boy much too pretentious to believe that Belle genuinely had no interest in him.
Gaston smiled down at her, grabbing the book from her hands. He smiled at Belle amused as she tried to reach for it, but Gaston being a great deal taller than her held the book high from her.
"Gaston, may I have my book back, please?" Belle mustered a polite expression as much as she could, while she grew concerned when Gaston fumbled through the pages carelessly and left creases of the book's spine.
"What are you reading this time?" Gaston flicked through the pages of the book and squinted at it. "How can you read this? There are no pictures."
"I know." Belle made a grab for the book unsuccessfully. "But why should that mean it's any less wonderful? You see, some people use their imagination."
Gaston gave a momentary judgemental glance at Belle, before tossing the book aside. With a gasp from Belle, the book landed on the lawn beside them, it's pages sprawled amongst the dirt of the grass.
Belle was quick to gather her book and smooth out the crinkled pages and had barely comprehended what Gaston was saying, as she nurtured the book in her arms like a newborn baby.
"Belle, I think it's time I should see you without a book covering your pretty face." Gaston gave a confident stride beside Belle who had continued walking. He put an arm around Belle, which she immediately shrugged off. "Movies are the new books, Belle. I don't suppose you're busy tonight. How 'bout it?"
Belle rummaged her mind for a response to help her escape. To her saviour, Gaston's little brother, Dirk called after him, running towards them.
Dirk arrived, panting and backed away slightly when he saw that Gaston had given him an annoyed glare for interrupting them.
"What? Did I interrupt something?" Dirk glared back at Gaston.
As quickly as she could, Belle briskly began walking her way back home.
"Wait!" Gaston called after her. "What about the movie?"
Belle continued walking and replied over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Gaston, maybe some other time, I can't. I have to go home and help my father."
Dirk spitted a loud scoff. "Yeah that crazy old man will need all the help he can get!"
Both Gaston and Dirk bursted into a hearty fit of laughter, Gaston giving Dirk a slamming high five. Belle stopped dead in her tracks, turning her heel back to face them, fuming.
"Do not talk about my father that way!" Belle exclaimed furiously.
Gaston choked on his laughter as he attempted to stifle it, clearing his throat and hitting his little brother in the shoulder. "Yeah! Don't talk about her dad that way." He tried to scold, but a smirk was still visible across his face.
"My father is just as sane as anybody else here." Belle asserted. "Just because he's inventive and creative does not mean he's insane, it means he's a genius! He is not crazy!"
At the moment, a piercingly loud squeal of an explosion bursted from afar. Sounds of crumbling crashes and thunderous eruptions echoed across the street, causing Belle, Gaston and Dirk to flinch. Many people had come out of their homes to look at the source of the noise, but their eyes immediately travelled to Belle.
This was unfortunately a regular occurrence, courtesy of her Inventor of a father, Maurice. Belle did not regard the grimacing looks she got from her neighbours or the return of Gaston and Dirk's giggling fit as she immediately ran home, worried for her father.
Belle ran frantically back to her home. She gasped as she saw the door, leading to the basement, seeping out smoke. She quickly opened the door, violently coughing as a suffocating cloud of black smoke puffed into her face. "Papa?" She managed to call out through the smoke.
Belle sprinted down the stairs as she saw her father groan in pain. "Are you alright, Papa?"
"Merde!" He cursed. "I give up!" Maurice kicked onto the device that was bursting out smoke.
Maurice coughed, wheezing through the smoke as Belle helped guide him upstairs, away from it. "Papa, you can't give up now. You always say that." Belle encouraged as she went to fetch him a glass of water.
Maurice sighed. "No. This time I mean it. Series of failures - one right after another...Who am I kidding? No one will ever need my boneheaded contraptions!"
"Don't talk like that!" Belle sat beside him. 
"Well it's true! Just ask everyone else out there." He gestured to their neighbours.
"Papa, you will succeed, you'll become a world renowned inventor and all those who spoke ill of you here will bow down to you." Belle was beaming with a radiating smile that never failed to warm Maurice's heart. The girl's purity was always something for him to lift his spirits after hours of failed work.
Maurice gave a hearty chuckle. "Well, my dear. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but thank you."
Belle's smile eventually began to fade, her eyes softening and Maurice's spirits were soon depreciated. "What's wrong?"
"Papa...do you think I'm odd?" Belle had a quiver of worry in her tone.
"Odd? My Belle?" Maurice thought the idea was absurd. "Who would ever think that?"
"Everyone." Belle exasperated. "And they're right! I don't fit in here - there's no one to talk to - no one that doesn't look at me strangely."
"What about Gaston? He's a looker." Maurice chuckled. Maurice got up, brought out his tool box and began to fumble around with them.
Belle muttered. "Oh yes, he's a looker - but he's also conceited, selfish, rude, vain and — ugh! Let's just say that, that's one friendship best avoided."
"Well, what about Kim? You seemed to get on with her well." Maurice was still engaged in conversation with Belle despite being absorbed in his mechanical work.
"Yes, I do like Kim. But she hangs out with the wrong crowd, is always with her boyfriend who seems just as irritating as Gaston and...she really doesn't seem like she wants to be seen with me."
"Now what makes you say that?"
Belle slouched tiresomely, feeling slightly relieved that she was venting out all her troubles. "Oh mon dieu, Papa, why did we have to move here?"
"Hey, I rather like it here." Maurice said defensively. "It just takes some getting used to."
Belle groaned throwing herself on the sofa. "There must be something more to this small suburban life!"
Maurice tutted. "That's your books talking -- all those stories about far off kingdoms have gotten to your head. There are no princes and castles here, Belle."
Belle raised her eyebrows as she looked out the window and stared at the marvel of a castle-like mansion far off on top of the hill. "I beg to differ, Papa." She muttered almost to herself.
The castle had always intrigued Belle. It was a magnificent view, that was also seen from the window of her bedroom. The very sight of it from her bedroom window would lull her into a dreaming sleep of fantastically impossible worlds. Whether it be a world where teapots and teacups greeted you for morning breakfast, or a world where magic portraits could come to life.
In school, she'd heard the castle was an abandoned one, untouched since an old inventor had passed away there, though there is still some speculation that his ghost haunts the manor. Although this was a ridiculous rumour, the more time she spent in the dreary suburban neighbourhood, the more she hoped something so ridiculous was true - ridiculous was fascinating.
"I'll be right back, Papa. I think I'll go out for another stroll..." She said as she eyed the castle.
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Belle was careful to make sure she wasn't seen going off to the mansion. She couldn't imagine the rumours that would circulate after neighbours seeing a strange girl voluntarily wander into the only bizarre place in this perfect town. It puzzled Belle completely, as to how people had never thought of exploring there before - how nobody had a good sense of curiosity to be fascinated with a house that wasn't plain and identical as every other house in the neighbourhood.
Belle creaked open the gates, wincing at the loud yelps the rustiness of the untouched gates made. The path leading up to the castle was eerie with dark trees hanging over, though eerie in a way that fascinated Belle. Belle was boiling in anticipation, as she observed her surroundings.
She stopped in her tracks as she spotted a light pink car parked in the pathway. She observed the track tyres and noticed that they were fresh and someone had just come here. This was only perplexing as Belle could not think of anyone who would dare visit here.
She briskly walked up the path, growing more eager.
Belle widened her eyes as she saw Peg Boggs, dressed in a light pink outfit with her Avon suitcase in hand. Peg was Kim's mother, and was one of the very few people that treated Belle with kindness. Peg was admiring the splendour of the garden in front of the castle, and eventually Belle's eyes drifted towards the garden as well.
Belle felt an ecstatic grin creep across her face from ear to ear as she marvelled at the sight before her. Bright flowers organised in colourful bunches, topiary plants shaped perfectly into animals some of which were imaginative much like the ones in the stories she'd read and beautiful stems of vines framed around the castle. 
Belle felt the fairytales she'd dream about come to life before her.
"Belle?" 
Belle gasped as she snapped out of her marvelling gaze at the sight. Peg was just as surprised to see Belle there as well.
"Mrs. Boggs, hello." Belle smiled.
"Hello. What are you doing here?" Peg greeted her with a warm smile.
"I-I'm...I...Well, I've always wanted to come up here...The castle, it's...it's..."
"It's wonderful, isn't it?" Peg chuckled as she looked back at the view.
Belle's smile returned to its radiant beam. "'Wonderful' is an understatement, it's epic, it's incandiferous, it's...magical."
Belle grew red in the cheeks at her excitement. These sorts of remarks are what labelled her as odd to everyone in her neighbourhood. Belle's smile faltered and her head bowed sheepishly.
Peg chuckled. "There's no need to feel embarrassed, Belle. I find your enthusiasm endearing."
Belle gave a modest grin before returning to her initial confused state. "What are you doing up here, Mrs. Boggs?"
Peg gave a tired sigh, gesturing to her suitcase. "Avon calling. I've had doors slammed in my face all morning, and I'm simply tired of it. I thought it was time that I tried something different, or rather, go somewhere else."
Belle nodded. "Well, this sure is a change of scene." She mused as she looked back through the garden.
Belle's eye was caught by a single red rose, standing out amongst a patch of white flowers. She knelt down to the rose, bringing her nose to it and inhaling it, fluttering with delight at its smell. As she was marvelling at the flower, she felt a strange sensation that she was being watched.
Almost instinctively, her head jerked up to the one of the windows high up on the castle. In a flash of a glimpse she spotted a face staring down at her curiously, though the face disappeared as quickly as she saw it. "There is someone here..." Belle gasped in delight.
"Really?" Peg asked. She began to clutch onto her Avon suitcase and make her way towards the door. Belle wasn't sure why, but she followed Peg. 
"Perhaps I'll join you on this Avon calling." Belle smiled. Her eyes tore away from the window that she fixated on. Little did she know that the face that she saw reappeared at the window, eyeing her in enchantment, as she made her way inside with Peg.
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