Insanity - Tumblr Posts
my capcut pro subscription just ran out ❤️ enjoy this amazing edit i made on google slides with various tumblr gifs (ft. my character headcanons except some I made wrong so they were all gay/allo)
⊱ i need him back ; hanma shuji x reader
warning: hurt no comfort, major character death, descriptions of death and grief, descriptions of kisaki's death, petnames (babe), lots of blood, descriptions of a dead body
summary: shuji just wants tetta back wc: ~1.7k
a/n: i like it sad and painful so here you go
minors dni // 18 +
A scream startled you out of a deep sleep.
It wasn’t the first time you were awoken like this and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Especially this time of the year, it always happened more frequently, almost nightly. The way the skies grew darker and the snow fell, the way it swirled around in the wind and muffled every sound, covering everything in soft white. It all made his nightmares worse, made him remember more.
“Shuji baby, it’s ok I’m right here.” You gently wrapped your arm around him, pulling him down into the warm bed. His body trembled, it trembled like this every single time.
“S-sorry for wakin’ you, babe. I just…”
“I know. No need for sorries, 'k?”
He tried to calm his breathing, tried to slow his racing heart, tried to focus on anything else. He settled his head into the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the shadows cast by the moonlight reflecting off the snow. Snow that had been steadily drifting down from the sky all night, just like it had that day. He tried to calm his nerves, tried to settle into the warmth and reassurance of you, of your arm wrapped around him.
Shuji closed his eyes, trying to fall back into sleep, but he couldn’t escape the memories: Kisaki bloody and broken in the middle of the road. How many years had it been? He lost track. No, he forced himself to lose track, he forced himself to stop counting the minutes, the hours, the days, the years. But there he was, every time he fucking closed his eyes, every single time. Blood had never bothered him, not until it was pouring from the person who had meant more than anything to him, that he would have killed anyone for, that he would have followed to the ends of the earth.
“Shuji, baby, it’s ok.” Your whispered words dragged him back from the dizzying visions. “Wanna talk about it?”
He always talked about it. How many times had he gone over it with you? Over and over and over. You must have been able to see it just as well as he did. The sickening images of his broken body, of the blood pooling around him, of the terrified look on his face.
But still, you sat with him and listened. No matter how many times he cried and yelled and screamed. No matter how drunk he was, no matter how angry, no matter how much of an absolute wreck he was. You always listened over and over, lightly touching him, pulling him close, letting him lose himself in your arms.
“He just…” Shuji couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. He always felt fucking weak, fucking pathetic, crying in your arms over the loss of his best friend.
“I know, baby I know.” Sometimes it was all you could say. Tonight seemed to be one of those nights, and you felt useless. God what the hell could you say? ‘Shuji I know he’s gone but he loved you.’ ‘I know he’s gone but every moment you spent together was a moment he wasn’t alone, was a moment he was happy. You did that Shuji, you did that for him and he loved you.’ None of it would help though. None of it could ever bring Tetta back.
“I was so close. Just around the corner. If I had just moved faster. If I had just -“ a sob stopped him mid-sentence. A sob that broke you, broke you every time. Every time you saw the invincible Hanma Shuji, the Reaper, the man with sin and punishment on his hands, cry hysterically. He loved Tetta and he was gone and that was it.
“He was so young. He wasn’t supposed to die. Not like this. Not like this.” Broken words between tears. “We were supposed to run Tokyo together. We were supposed to be on top. The two of us.”
You pulled him closer to you and placed a kiss on his head as he buried his face in your chest, trying to fight off the desperation to see him again, to see his smile, his laugh. He remembered the first time he made him laugh. A real laugh. Shuji had felt like he won a prize — finally accomplished something. Something more than beating faces in. Making a sad, lonely boy laugh. He secretly made it his mission to see him laugh every fucking day - every day for the rest of their lives. He failed. He fucking failed. And here he was in the arms of his lover, falling to pieces for the millionth time, dying to see Kisaki Tetta’s smile.
“He… he would have loved you. Ya know? He would have.” He nuzzled his face harder into your chest, like somehow the warmth and beat of your heart could make him forget Tetta was gone.
“I would have loved him too. I do love him.” You did, of course, how could you not? He had made every single moment of the short time they spent together seem like yesterday. As if tomorrow you could walk into your living room to see them sitting on the couch laughing at some stupid joke. A joke you would never understand but you’d laugh anyway because they were happy. Because seeing them together was everything you wanted. It was what you dreamed about most nights - the man you loved and a man you had never met laughing with each other.
“I love him so much.” A choked whisper, muffled even further by the fabric of your shirt.
“He loved you.” You ran your fingers through his hair, you wished you could take his pain away, wished you could make him forget like he was desperate to.
“I never told him. I never did.”
Why would he have though? They were young, they were too young to truly grasp exactly what they were doing - the repercussions of the fighting, the manipulation, the murder. They were too young to tell each other how much they cared. They were children and it had all ended too soon.
“Sometimes…” his arms gripped you tighter. “Sometimes I wish it were me.” It wasn’t the first time he had expressed it, it wouldn’t be the last. And every single time you knew how much he meant it. How badly he wanted to switch places. How badly he wanted to be the one broken and dying in the middle of the street, confused and begging someone, anyone, to not let him die. To not let him die alone, die unloved, die scared.
Every single emotion Tetta must have went through, every single thought as his pain drifted away and his body went numb, as his pleas for life fell silent on his lips, as his eyes, desperate to see anything more than the searing pain and fear, could find no one until his vision left him. Shuji wanted to go back and take them all away.
“Do you think he looked for me? Do you think he thought of me?” Another kiss on his head, thumb wiping away the tears. Tears that had completely soaked through your shirt.
“How could he have not thought of you?” You were certain, how could Tetta not have looked for the person he trusted, for the person who had stood by him? For the person who knew him better than anyone ever had? But fuck, fuck was it hard to hold Shuji’s trembling body and tell him 'your best friend looked for you as he lay dying.' Because that meant Tetta never found him, that meant Tetta had to go through it as he had gone through most of his life — alone and in pain. You knew Shuji knew. How could he not? The fear of death that had contorted Tetta's face had seared itself in Shuji’s mind.
“He looked for me.” Another sob, his body heaving. “He needed me. He fucking needed me and I was too busy fucking around with Draken to even think about him.”
“You couldn’t have -“
“No. I should have known. I should have fuckin’ known. I knew everything. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen. His plans always worked one way or another. His plan was perfect. He wasn’t supposed to die.” Shuji's trembling worsened, his breathing became more labored, the words he spoke only making the pain harder to bare.
“Tetta was perfect. He was so fuckin’ smart. He didn’t need me like I needed him.” He said it louder than he wanted to. Words he kept to himself, words he hated to admit. How much he had needed Tetta, how much he still needed him years later. Shuji, even after all this time, still couldn’t see himself without Tetta, still couldn’t imagine his life alone.
“He could have been here with us right now. He could have. He should be. This is where he belongs. Not dead.” His grip tightened even more, to the point of pain, to the point that perhaps you could feel even the slightest amount of pain he felt. Maybe that was what he wanted, to push his pain onto you. A burden you would happily bear for Shuji.
“He was baby, he was perfect and brilliant. I know.” Your own tears welled up, your own voice wavering.
“I want him back, I need him back.” He pulled away from you. Pulled away from the only comfort in his life. Pulled away and curled up in a ball, tucking his face into his knees.
You laid there and stared at the ceiling, giving him space but dying to comfort him more. Dying to wrap your arms around him and just fall back to sleep.
“This… this will hurt forever wont it? Being stuck here without him.” It would, it would always hurt. He would always see him like that, always see Kisaki Tetta’s twisted limbs, bloody face, wide eyed stare into nothingness, crumpled in the middle of the street as snow drifted down, as snow slowly began to cover everything. A death shroud. Snow would always be death to him now. Snow would always be pain and despair and death.
“He was alone. He was always alone.”
tags: @bxnten @virtue-and-beneviolence @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi
NEW MAGIC WAND | SANZU H.
sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader
summary: sanzu haruchiyo liked to think he was a patient man, but even the most patient of men finally snap.
warnings: yandere!haruchiyo, soft dom!haruchiyo, service dom!haruchiyo, obsessive and possessive behavior, implied stalking, manipulation, dubcon, slight somno, mirror sex, oral sex (m->f), overstimulation, dumbification, praise, brief implied baby trapping, squirting, implied character death (not reader or haruchiyo), pet names (pretty girl, princess, babygirl, baby), slight manhandling, pretty graphic descriptions of violence at one or two points
wordcount: 4.5k
notes: for @arozaur's hide n seek collab !! ^.^
You were supposed to come back.
Sanzu stared down at his phone, grip around it so tight that he swore it was going to shatter in his hand. His lungs were burning as he looked at the smiling picture of you and your new boyfriend, unable to tear his eyes off of it, his blood ran hot for all of the wrong reasons, he couldn’t think straight his mind felt fuzzy as rage began to sweep through each and every cell of his body.
Boyfriend, blood roared in his ears, his jaw tightened, teeth grinding together painfully. Not a fuckin’ boyfriend, he’s your fucking boyfriend, he’s just a leech, taking advantage of your naivety. A fuckin-
“Sanzu,” Rindou’s voice drew him from his thoughts and Sanzu turned a dark glare on him.
“The fuck do you want?” he spit out, Rindou’s gaze sharpened.
“Stop sitting here sulking and do something about it if you’re so fuckin’ shitty over this girl,” Rindou said, “We don’t want you here if you’re just gonna sit here and kill the mood.”
And Sanzu had half a mind to bash Rindou’s face into the table and he probably would have had his words not set off a string of thoughts that had him staring blankly ahead, mind whirring.
Do something about it.
---
“He cheated on me, and my friends they all-” you were shaking in the door of his apartment, lips wobbling, eyes wet, and Sanzu could only stand there, staring at you in shock because a part of him couldn’t believe that you were actually standing in front of him. “I-I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.”
And Sanzu opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, and you clearly took it the wrong way.
“... I’m sorry. I should go,” you were backing away and panic shot through him immediately, his hand darted out, wrapping around your wrist as he tugged you back toward him.
“No,” he said, “No, s’okay, baby, you know you can always come to me.”
His breath caught as the pet name slipped from his lips before he could stop. Did he push too far too quickly? Need to be careful, don’t ruin this chance. But relief swept through him when your face only crumbled at the pet name and he for a second, he could have sworn that he had caught an expression of longing sweep across your face.
He found himself proven correct by the next words that left for your lips, “I missed you so much,” your voice wavered, “So, so much, you have no idea. Never should’ve left you, I-”
Sanzu moved before his mind could catch up, your words clouding his thoughts as he tugged you into his apartment, letting the door shut behind you--because this was all he fucking wanted. His hands were shaky as he leaned in close, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in three months, trembling fingers coming up to cup your face as he let out a soft whimper against your lips, running his thumb over your cheekbone. He could feel your wet tears staining his face and how your lips clung to his like a lifeline, your hands curling around the cloth of his shirt, holding him close, and Sanzu swore that everything was right in the world again at that moment.
He pulled back, lips brushing yours, “He never deserved you,” he said, voice little over a breath as he wiped away the tears streaming down your face, “You’re so good, too good, too good for anyone, he never deserved you, you only deserve the best.”
You shook your head and he hated how the glassy-eyed expression you were giving him made his blood run hot, “Haru-”
He bit back the moan that nearly escaped his lips at the sound of you saying his name, Haru, Haru, Haru, he could listen to you say his name forever and never get tired of it, it was the sweetest song his ears had ever heard. He had hated his name until he met you and it suddenly became his favorite word every time it spilled from your lips.
“My pretty girl,” Sanzu murmured, bringing your face back closer to his, pressing his lips to your forehead and then your nose and then to each of your cheeks, “The prettiest girl, my perfect baby, he didn’t deserve you.”
“I just don’t understand,” you sobbed, throwing yourself forward into his arms and Sanzu caught you, arms wrapped tight around your waist as you flung yours around his shoulders. He brought one hand up to cradle the back of your head as you buried your face into the crook of his neck and Sanzu let out a shaky breath, eyes wide. “I did everything right, I-I gave it my all and he was so good, he never showed any sign of this I didn’t expect it, I..”
Your voice trailed off as Sanzu got lost in his own thoughts.
Love you, love you, love you, god he fucking loved you and he missed you, he missed you so, so, so, so much. He missed holding you in his arms, he missed being the one you ran to whenever you were upset, he missed kissing you, he missed your scent, your taste, the way you felt against him, he missed everything about you, he missed you so much it hurt.
“... must be somethin’ wrong with me, Haru, I-”
Sanzu’s grip around you tightened, how dare-
“Don’t you ever say that,” Sanzu hissed, pulling you away from him so he could look you in the eye, he softened at the teary-eyed look you directed at him, bringing one hand to your face to cup your cheek, “You’re so perfect, princess.”
You shook your head and rage darkened his mind and it took all of his willpower to stop himself from tightening his grip around your face. He would kill him. He would kill him. He would kill him so fucking brutally that nobody would be able to identify his remains, strip the skin from his muscles and the muscles from his bones, he would tear him apart because nobody had any right to make his perfect girl feel so awful about herself. Nobody. He would kill anyone that did.
He would kill him.
“Let me show you,” he breathed out, “Babygirl, let me show you.”
“Haru, I dunno,” you were shaking your head but your hands tightened around the cloth of his shirt and he ran his thumb over your cheek, mouth drying as your eyes fluttered shut, instinctively leaning into his touch.
“Please,” Sanzu murmured, bringing his other hand back to your face, tilting your head up so that you were looking at him, your eyes met his again and Sanzu swore that the entire world could be burning around him and he wouldn’t even notice because all that matter was you--you and your pretty eyes and hypnotic voice, god he had been deprived of it so long, for too long, Sanzu was sure he couldn’t live without you.
He brought his lips back down to yours and his breath shook against your lips as your hands came up, one hand slipping behind his head and the other coming up to cup the side of his neck to hold him close as you deepened the kiss, tongue darted out to swipe at his bottom lip.
And Sanzu couldn’t breathe, he felt like he was on cloud nine, his hands slid down from your face to your thighs, lifting you and you gasped into his mouth. Sanzu all but whimpered when your legs wrapped around his waist, arms tightening around his shoulders. Closer, he needed you closer, he couldn’t get close enough to you.
He was barely thinking straight as he brought you through his apartment, mind hazy, drunk off of the taste of you. He laid you back on his bed, pulling off of you, and Sanzu felt dizzy as you reached out for him, a whine slipping from your lips as he pulled away.
This was all he wanted, all he had ever wanted was for you to want him, need him, as much as he needed you. But you didn’t, you never fucking did. He was always too much--too clingy, too protective, too smothering. You always wanted to go out, do things without him, and it wasn’t fair because all he wanted was you.
“Haru, I’m going out with my friends tonight… No, Haru, it’s just a girl’s night..”
“Haru, I can do this on my own.”
“Haru, I don’t need your help with this, I’ve got it.”
“Haru, please, I need space.”
“Haru, I think we need to take a break.”
“Haru,” your voice in the present knocked him out of the memories of the past, before you had left him. His eyes met yours, and the anger that had been brewing again disappeared when he saw the pleading look in your eyes, “What’re you doin’, Haru? I want-”
“Shh,” he murmured, kneeling on the floor by the edge of the bed where he had laid you, working on slipping off the pretty heels you had on your feet, once he had placed them on the floor by the foot of the bed, he pressed his lips to your ankle, “Gonna take my time with you tonight, princess. Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Haru,” your voice came out as a whimper and Sanzu nearly moaned against your skin as he trailed slow, wet kisses up your calf, to your knee, all the way up to your thigh, mapping out every inch of your skin in reach of him. He let out another shaky breath, palms smoothed over your outer thigh, running up and down your skin slowly as he pulled back to look at you, taking in the pretty skirt and matching top you had on.
“The prettiest girl,” Sanzu whispered, “you’re the prettiest girl, look at you, baby, so fuckin’ pretty.”
You shook your head and Sanzu inhaled sharply, the anger returning with a vengeance and he only barely pushed it to the side. His eyes darted over to the left, taking in the mirror set up on his wall and for a moment, he could only stare, absorbed in the image of you splayed out on his bed, chest rising and falling rapidly. This was where you belonged, in his apartment, in his bed.
But then he caught sight of the gleam of your tears in the reflection and forced himself back to what he was doing. He reached up, fingers curling around your jaw gently to turn your head to face the mirror, “Watch,” he said quietly, “want you to watch yourself, see how perfect you are, yeah?”
“Haru,” you went to look away but Sanzu’s grip tightened on your jaw.
“Look,” he repeated again, voice low, and you swallowed thickly, once he was satisfied that you weren’t going to turn your head away, Sanzu dipped back down, hands sliding down your body to hook around the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down over your hips and pulling them off of your legs.
“Haru, I don’t wanna watch,” you said and Sanzu glanced up from where he was entranced by the way your pretty lace panties sat on your body, hugging your skin.
You were still looking in the mirror, Sanzu nearly cooed at how obedient you were.
“Trust me, princess,” he murmured, kissing your inner thigh, “Just watch.”
Without another word, Sanzu slid your panties off, stuffing them in his pocket before leaning back down, relishing in how your entire body shivered as he kissed up your inner thigh, closer and closer to your heat. He inhaled deeply, letting out a low moan at your scent, hands wrapping around your thighs to tug you closer to him so he could bury his face into your cunt.
Sanzu groaned, eyes fluttering shut at your familiar taste, tongue diving deep between your folds, dipping inside your entrance. He had missed it, fuck he had missed it so fucking much, he was addicted to the taste of you more than any drug. Distantly, he heard the loud whines spilling from your lips--his name over and over and over and over again and it had his head feeling light.
Tastes so good, he was moaning against you like a fucking whore, tongue sliding between your folds, flicking over your clit, so fuckin’ good, Sanzu was sure he could spend the rest of life buried between your thighs, hearing your moans and whimpers as he indulged on you.
His gaze flicked up, looking up at you through his lashes and Sanzu let out another hum against you, tongue swirling around your clit, sucking it lightly into his mouth as he watched you fist the bedsheets, back arching off the bed, thighs clamping down around his head. And it didn’t take long for him to have you sobbing his name, hips stuttering against his face; Sanzu lapped up every drop of you like a starved man but he just couldn’t get enough.
Distantly, he could hear you pleading for him to hold on, to give you a second to recover but your words only went in one ear and out the other because he was far too lost in the taste of you. He groaned, sucking your clit hard again before pushing his tongue inside of you, almost whimpering when he felt your walls contract around it, spasming at the stimulation. Your hand reached down to tug at his hair and try to pull him away but it only spurred him on even more.
He moaned into you again, feeling your legs tense around his head, noting the way your body was twitching and jerking, the way your pleas for him to stop were quickly returning to high-pitch cries of his name. He fucked his tongue in and out of you faster, desperate to hear you scream his name, to feel you cum all over his tongue again.
And you did, god you did, screamed his name so loud that he was sure the Haitanis next door could hear you, body thrashing beneath him as he brought you to your second high so quickly, too quickly. He inhaled deeply through his nose, drinking up all of your release, not willing to let a single drop go to waste. His eyes flickered to the side, toward the mirror and Sanzu’s body shuddered when he caught sight of your slack jaw and half-rolled back eyes as you came down from your orgasm, body still twitching as he dragged his tongue between your folds.
He pulled off of you, shifting up your body, kissing up your bare skin. He slid your top over your body, biting down on his bottom lip at the sight of your nippes hard through the thin cloth. Anger hit him again--you wore this for him.
He forced it away, instead pulling your shirt off of you n letting out a shaky breath at the sight of you bare and fucked out beneath him, where you belonged, where you belonged, where you fuckin’ belonged.
He trailed his lips up your chest, flicking his tongue over your nipple before dragging it up to your neck, teeth grazing your skin, lips massaging bruises into your pretty skin. He groaned against your skin, grinding his clothed cock against your thigh before kissing up to your jaw, sucking behind your ear.
“Prettiest fuckin’ girl, look at yourself, baby,” he murmured, nudging his nose against the side of your face before looking at you through the mirror, catching your glazed over eyes and swollen lips. He nearly moaned when your unfocused gaze met his through the reflection. “Want you to say it for me, babygirl.”
“Huh?” he barely caught the confused noise that you let out and he turned his face back into your skin, pressing his lip against your cheek once, twice, three times.
“Prettiest girl in the whole world, wanna hear you say it, baby,” he told you and you only blinked, “S’okay, you don’t have to say it right now, but you will if you wanna cum again, alright?”
Your brows furrowed, slowly registering his words as Sanzu worked at the buckle of his belt, not even bothering to pull it off fully before unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, letting out a soft grunt of relief now that he wasn’t restrained in his slacks.
“Cum… again?” you hesitated, and your voice sounded so weak and confused that it made him bite back another moan. So fuckin’ perfect, specially when you’re all fucked out pretty for him. “H-Haru, I-I dunno if I can cum again?”
Sanzu only cooed at you, kissing all around your swollen lips, “Sure you can, baby, gonna fuck you so good, alright?”
“H-Haru, I dunno, ‘s so sensitive-” you began again but Sanzu only silenced you by pressing his lips to yours, bringing one of his hands down to lazily pump his cock, parting your thighs with one of his knees. He pulled his lips from yours as he brought his tip to your pretty pussy, letting it rub against your clit and sink between your folds. He watched raptly as your entire body spasmed, head tilting back and jaw going slack again at the stimulation, “Haru, I-”
With one swift motion, Sanzu sunk himself deep into you, eyes knocking back at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his cock. “Fuck, fuck, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, made fuckin’ perfect for me, yeah?”
You didn’t respond, only loud moans and whimpers meeting his ear as he grabbed one of your thighs, pressing the limp limb up against your chest so he could bully his cock even deeper into you.
You were, he gasped into your neck, forehead pressed against your skin as he tried to control himself, so fuckin’ perfect for him, made for him. You were fuckin’ made for him, he was the only one that could have you. The only fuckin’ one, he’d kill anyone else that tried.
“Say it, baby,” he drew his hips back and rolled them into yours, your body jerking beneath him, cunt contracting around his cock so tight that it nearly had him cumming on the spot, a low, broken moan slipped from his lips, “Fuck, fuck, careful, baby, don’t do that.”
You only let out a half sob, eyes dazed and unfocused, you tried to turn your head back to look at him but Sanzu only nudged his nose back against your face, making sure you were still looking in the mirror, “Look at yourself, baby, look how pretty you are, all for me, yeah?”
Smeared makeup, tears streaming down your face, swollen lips and glassy eyes, Sanzu Haruchiyo knew you were the most beautiful fucking creature to walk this earth. And you were all fucking his.
“Mm, a-all for you,” your words were practically a slur and it made him light-headed. All for him, all for him, all for him, he snapped his hips against yours, eyes rolling back at the way your walls desperately tried to suck him in.
So fuckin’ tight, his perfect fuckin’ pussy, “Prettiest girl in the whole world,” he gasped into your skin, picking up the pace of his hips, fingers bruising your thigh as he presses your leg harder into your chest, “Say it.”
You sobbed and Sanzu’s mind went blank when he felt your walls clamp down around him, an obscene moan slipping from his lips as you came around his cock without warning, his hips stuttered and it took all of his self-control to stop himself from cumming with you.
“P-p-p-prettiest girl in the world!” you cried out, “‘m the prettiest girl in the world, your pretty girl, ‘m your pretty girl, Haru.”
“Yeah you are,” Sanzu groaned, “My pretty fuckin’ girl, nobody else can have you. Nobody else can make you feel s’fuckin’ good.”
“Nobody else can have me, ‘m all yours, only one that can make me feel good,” you babbled. “All yours, all yours.”
Sanzu let out another moan, “All fuckin’ mine,” he bit down on your skin, his free hand grabbing your other thigh and bringing it to the same position as the one already pressed to your chest, folding you in half so he could fuck himself deeper inside of you.
You laid limp beneath him, chest rising and falling rapidly and lips parted and Sanzu almost cooed at the tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation and the drool pooling at the corner of your lips. His pretty baby, he thought as he leaned in, licking up the drool beginning to drip down the side of your cheek, fucking you faster, deeper, harder, his eyes nearly rolled back with every thrust.
He grunted as his grip tightened around your thighs, as you laid there, jaw slack and tits bouncing pretty with every snap of his hips--his pretty doll, his to use, his to fuckin’ ruin.
You barely even made a sound other than another soft whimper when he felt your cunt spasm around him again, release squirting around his cock and staining his dark slacks and dress shirt and Sanzu’s entire body shook, a loud moan of your name spilling from his lips as he finished deep inside of you, vision flashing white and lips parting, breath hot and heavy against your neck.
You didn’t even react and Sanzu groaned as he pushed himself off of you, hissing as his cock slipped out of your cunt. He paused as he took in your slack expression, pretty baby couldn’t handle his cock, his chest swelled as leaned down to press a few kisses to your lips, blood running hot when you failed to react again.
Fuck.
His eyes drifted down to the mess between your legs, looking down with lidded eyes as his cum seeped out of your wrecked cunt. Inhaling sharply, he gathered the cum that had leaked out with his fingers and pushed it back deep inside of you.
Can’t leave him if…
He swallowed thickly at the thought, eyes going dark but he pulled his fingers out from you after a few moments, intent on undressing and laying with you. He let out a breath as he rose to his feet, body still reeling from the intense orgasm. Unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it in the bin next to his closet, and then doing the same with his slacks.
He paused as he caught sight of the rumpled pile of clothes on the floor near his bed, eyes narrowing in on the bloodstains.
Oops, he thought to himself, kicking the clothes beneath his bed and out of sight if you happened to wake up and wander around after he fell asleep.
Slipping back into bed with you, shifting you around to help you under the bedsheets with him, you stirred for a moment, and Sanzu’s mouth went dry as you blinked up at him blearily, eyes droopy and exhaustion set in your features. “Missed you,” you repeated again before yawning and letting your eyes shut as you leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around you as you drifted off to sleep.
His eyes didn’t leave your sleeping form, unable to draw his gaze away from how you slept so soundly curled in his arms, face nuzzled to his chest, body half-slung on top of him. Your breath was steady and your expression was nothing short of peaceful, letting out soft hums as you occasionally tried to shift closer to him.
He loved you.
God, he loved you so much that it hurt, there was no one in the world that could compare, he knew it. He brought his fingers up to your hair, brushing a stray hair from your face and his chest felt warm when another content sigh left your lips, as if you knew even in your sleep it was his touch.
He had missed you and for a second, the anger almost returned. Because you had left him, you had left him when all he had ever done was try to love you and-
He let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, careful not to shift too much so he didn’t wake you up.
It’s okay, he said to himself, it’s okay because you learned your lesson.
He stroked your hair gently, watching the small smile on your lips with dark eyes. You knew better now--Sanzu was the only one that would be there for you when you needed it, the only one that loved you enough not to leave. Sanzu was your pillar and it was about time you finally realized it, even if it did take a little pushing on his part.
It wasn’t his fault though, really, he thought to himself as he wiped away your smeared makeup with his thumb. He had only made one little threat and your boyfriend--ex, he reminded himself gleefully--had rolled over immediately, finding a whore to bring to where he was supposed to bring you for your two-month anniversary date.
If he had really loved you, loved you like how Sanzu did, he would have chosen you no matter what else was at stake. Sanzu would have, and to him, it was just even more proof that the leech didn’t deserve you. He hadn’t expected it to turn out as well as it had, though. He had been planning on bumping into you over the next few days--a welcome, familiar face after your friends dropped you and your boyfriend cheated on you.
It didn’t matter, Sanzu thought again, tilting his head down to press his lips to the top of your head, he wouldn’t live to see tomorrow anyway.
Sanzu liked to think he was a man of his word, for the most part, anyway. And yes, he had promised to let the man’s parents and younger siblings live if found a way to ruin his relationship with you, but Sanzu made no such promises about his own life--no one got to hurt his girl and live to see the next day, he’s not the first and he most certainly won’t be the last to meet a brutal end for making that mistake.
Not that you knew that of course.
And he smiled again, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head, sleeping blissfully unaware of the dark thoughts running through Sanzu’s head.
You’d stay with him this time, he thought to himself, arms tightening around you as you shifted again in your sleep, he’d make sure of it, one way or another.
---
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Insane female Medic!Enjoy! C:
I could be blind but this looks like it's animated in a way that leaves Moon's motive to take over is ambiguous, and I love that. He could either genuinely be a gargantuan control freak, or jealous of Sun, or he could still be suffering from the effects of the virus.
Either way I think it's clear that, just like Sun, he's struggling with how to handle even existing as a single entity. He was never made to be such a thing, if Sun's desperate line to be "whole" is literal.
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morals on sundays | myg
You're still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.
○ Pairing: BFF!Yoongi x f!Reader
○ Rating: Explicit/18+
○ Genre: Friends with benefits, angst, smut, fluff
○ 6 / 100 Drabble Challenge (FWB)
○ Word Count: 2,177
○ Warnings: MC's boyfriend cheated on her, post-breakup blues, questionable decision making, fingering so good you'll try to run away from it, pussy eating, too much tongue sucking probably, Yoongi is a boob guy, they have matching Spongebob and Patrick coffee mugs so why aren't they married?? Idiots
○ Notes: Shout out to @sailoryooons for also writing about a daegu boy eating pussy tonight 😌 And, as usual, I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains and didn't proofread it, so if you see any errors, no you didn't
○ Post Date: January 22, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? Imported - Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK
Lately, you’ve felt like disappearing – not into a crowded city street in another country or down an unlit dirt road into the unknown, but into the warm folds of Yoongi’s hoodie. You’re already halfway there, with your fingers interlaced with his, shoved into the large front pocket, and your face tucked into his shoulder.
“Fuck, I hate taking the bus,” he curses, his words turning into a cloud that disappears into the cold air.
“How much time do we have?”
Yoongi turns his head, and his lips briefly touch the cold curve of your ear.
“You’re mumbling. What’d you say?”
“How much time until it comes?” You squint up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. It’s too warm here to want to move.
“Can’t check the app on my phone unless you give me my hands.”
“No.”
Yoongi chuckles and jostles your head by bobbing his shoulders.
“I thought our date would cheer you up.” His complaint is playful, eyes sparkling in the streetlights when he returns his gaze to the empty road. You should have gotten a taxi.
“I’m gonna die alone. Doesn’t matter how much late-night pizza I eat or how many stupid action movies I watch,” you grumble into Yoongi’s shoulder.
“Even when the action movie lead has a super hot sex scene that’s poorly timed and irrelevant to the plot?”
“Nope.”
“Even when the coolest guy on the entire planet was the one who took you?” Yoongi smiles cheekily, his gaze back on you. He wiggles his shoulders again, hard enough to bounce your head.
Annoyed, you straighten up, hands still shoved in his pockets. The movie wasn’t that bad. The pizza was actually great. You’re just depressed.
“I didn’t think it would take this long…” You whisper into the little space between your body and Yoongi’s. He knows you aren’t talking about the bus.
Yoongi squeezes your hands inside his hoodie. The rest of you might be freezing in the winter night air, but at least Yoongi keeps your hands warm. He keeps your heart warm, too, with his sincere gaze when he looks at you.
“You were too good for him.”
Yoongi’s right. He’s always right.
You’re sufficiently frozen by the time the bus finally arrives. Yoongi pays for you both because he’s trying to make life easy. No bumps in the road, no unnecessary stress. He lets you sit in a window seat so you can stare out at the blurry night scenery and have your sad main character moment for as long as it takes to get to your apartment.
Once you arrive, he follows you inside and heads straight to the kitchen while you slump down the hall to your bedroom. The cold seeps so deeply into your bones that the sweatpants and sweater you change into barely help increase your body temperature.
Maybe it’s because the sweatpants and sweater are your ex-boyfriend’s, and the universe wants to keep your body as cold as his heart was.
In the kitchen, Yoongi uses a wooden spoon to stir hot chocolate in a small pot, your favorite kind that comes in a block of chocolate that melts with milk. It’s likely been years since Yoongi has made you hot chocolate. Cozy winter nights indoors were once commonplace, the two of you alternating between apartments to make each other snacks and treat cuddles like currency. The appearance of your ex put an end to the comfort you shared with Yoongi. It put an end to most things that brought you comfort.
As you expect, Yoongi has two mugs out on the counter. You reach for yours, twisting it in your hands as you wait for him to finish.
“Remember when Spongebob tried to become best friends with Squidward instead of Patrick?” Yoongi asks, turning off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour hot chocolate into his pink mug, then pours some into your yellow one.
“Yes.”
“He was Squidward. I’m just mad I didn’t get to blow up his house–” Yoongi laughs and nearly spills his drink when you smack him in the arm, “–with bubbles! With bubbles. I’m not homicidal.”
Rolling your eyes, you set down your mug next to Yoongi’s, both drinks too hot to drink quickly.
“Thank you,” you mumble, hooking your finger into his hoodie pocket and tugging lightly, the action absentminded. You keep your eyes cast downward because you don’t want him to see your tears if they run. “I’m sorry I’ve been in such a shitty mood. I know it’s been a while, but, it just… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, and everything fucking hurts…”
Yoongi slips his fingers under your sleeve and circles your wrist, pulling your hand away from his pocket so he can lace your fingers together. They’re so much warmer now, defrosted by the heat blasting through your apartment and Yoongi’s hot chocolate.
“Maybe you could start by not wearing his clothes?” Yoongi offers quietly. “Can’t imagine it’s easy to get over someone when you keep them on your body like that.”
You sniffle and nod. Again, Yoongi is always right.
“Easier said than done…” you mumble, giving him a weak smile when you finally meet his eyes. There’s something there in his expression, something that seems different.
You don’t move away when Yoongi steps closer, even when he has you backed against the counter, even when you feel like you’re going to swallow your heart.
“I could take them off for you,” Yoongi says softly. He lets go of your sleeve to pinch the hem of your sweater, tugging it lightly. “If you can’t do it, I can.”
“Yeah?” You feel out of breath, maybe because you suck in your stomach when Yoongi’s fingers brush against it.
“Yeah,” he echoes, fingers sliding along your ribs as he pushes your sweater up. “So you can get over him.”
It’s a terrible idea, but your stomach flutters when he looks at you with sleepy eyes weighed down by the late hour and lust. He bites his bottom lip, and you feel your resolve slip as easily as Yoongi’s fingers do beneath your clothes.
“I want to.” The declaration is desperate, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare into Yoongi’s eyes with an all-consuming sadness that eats at your insides, gnawing on bones and biting holes into your lungs. “God, Yoongi, I want to.”
Yoongi touches his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes because he’s too close and you’re too much of a coward.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His voice is as gentle as his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin.
You raise your arms for Yoongi to pull off your sweater. He’s confident when he squeezes your tits, doesn’t even seem caught off guard when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under the sweater. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples as he leans in to kiss you, his tongue tasting sweet from the hot chocolate when he flicks it against yours.
“Yoongi,” you call out with an airy sigh that harmonizes nicely with the sound of him sucking open-mouthed kisses down your neck.
“Hmm?” Yoongi hums against the base of your throat, the vibration sending a tingling sensation straight to your clit. He keeps one hand on the counter beside your waist, caging you in, while his other hand cups your pussy over your sweatpants.
“Oh,” you gasp, your hands immediately finding Yoongi’s firm shoulders when he starts rubbing your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers lower to press against your entrance, soaking the fabric.
“These are his, too, right?”
“Y-yes,” you moan as Yoongi pulls down your sweatpants, taking your underwear with them.
You can’t say you never thought about how attractive Yoongi is; it’s hard to ignore. It’s just that Yoongi is your best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, you don’t know if you’d be able to survive losing him, too. You love him.
But you also love your ex.
It’s hard to think about that, though, with two of Yoongi’s fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. They’re long, reaching deeper than your own can when you finger yourself, always late at night when you’re lonely. It never feels good after. The clarity always seems to hit too quickly, like being dunked in a pool of ice water.
Three months. That’s how long it’s been since another person touched you, since you found out your ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you. You didn’t realize how much you missed it until you’ve got your head thrown back and your thighs quivering as Yoongi fucks you with his fingers. You nearly climb up the counter, both wanting him to touch you more and trying to get away because it’s too good.
Your ex never searched for the spot that would make your legs shake, but Yoongi does. He curls his fingers against your front wall and keeps up his rhythm, moving with your body when you can’t control where it goes.
“Fuck, right there.” You’re burning up, veins turned to lava that’s rushing toward your core as Yoongi fucks you closer and closer to your orgasm until you’re on the verge of tears because you haven’t been touched in so long and you’re so lonely and you weren’t good enough. You weren’t enough.
“Wanna make you cum,” Yoongi groans, deep and gravelly, between licking a stripe up your tits and sucking your nipples.
“Please,” you moan, “Please, I’m so close.”
Your arousal gushes around his fingers, slicking them up and making your pussy squelch when Yoongi flutters them inside you. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, almost too hard. It stops you from bucking your hips, but you can barely stand as it is.
Yoongi’s lips are back on yours, red from sucking your nipples until it hurt. He whispers against your lips and opens his mouth to let you suck on his tongue with a pathetic whimper.
“Not yet, though.”
“Wha– Yoongi, no–” It’s embarrassing how loudly you cry out when Yoongi slips his fingers out of your pussy. You feel the fire in your core simmer until you’re left with a painfully throbbing clit and your juices smeared on your inner thighs.
“Shhh, you know I always take care of you.” Yoongi shuts you up with a bite to your bottom lip. He leans down slightly to squeeze the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto the counter. “Lean back.”
The cold marble counter sends shivers across your body, but it can’t keep up with the heat of Yoongi’s mouth on your pussy. He kisses your lips so gently that you think you might actually cry before he pushes your thighs back, opening you up.
“Oh fuck,” you moan as Yoongi goes straight for your clit, sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. You dig your hands into his hair and tug the strands hard enough to make him moan into your pussy. “Use your, use–”
Yoongi laps at your clit in quick, consistent bursts that fall in line with the tempo he’s fucking you to with two fingers again. His free hand presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your body taunt so you don’t buck into his face or curl inward. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop your legs from shaking when one rests on his shoulder and the other drapes over the crook of his arm.
It’s messy and loud, Yoongi licking and sucking your pussy like he really is trying to empty your mind of everything but the way the tip of his hot, wet tongue feels swirling your clit and the stretch of his fingers when he slips a third inside you and focuses on massaging the sensitive part of your walls. It’s working. He completely consumes your senses, down to how gorgeous he looks staring at you from between your thighs.
Your Yoongi, fingerfucking you and sucking your clit like you’re his favorite meal.
You try not to bang your head against the counter when you finally cum, instead focusing the overwhelming energy into pulling Yoongi’s hair to keep his face in your pussy.
He continues fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, to the point that you can’t lie still any longer.
“Yoongi, oh my god, Yoongi, it’s too much,” you whimper and gasp, thighs closing around his head until he finally eases his fingers out of you.
Strings of your arousal connect his lips with your pussy until he swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, cutting them off. His bangs are pushed off his forehead and his hair sticks up from you pulling on it, but his eyes sparkle and his cheeks are just as rosy as his pink, slicked-up lips.
“Shit,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning over you on the counter to kiss you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and lets you suck your juices from it.
You think you taste better on Yoongi’s tongue than on your ex’s.
Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.
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bts clip of this photo
(6s) 14.02.24
My name is nephew I observe herself with that ago Ali it means that it's fitted to always be alone Baldwin has translated from you're going to into the USA I'm arrogant english language I wonder if anybody can possibly bother you it's just been helping it it's a bit of a burning angle involved but I've incredibly amazingly amazingly nice meeting with him sup if you're gonna go bust me buy a big deal or anything in this world please do get in contact with the ASB isn'tMy name is nephew I observe herself with that ago Ali it means that it's fitted to always be alone Baldwin has translated from you're going to into the USA I'm arrogant english language I wonder if anybody can possibly bother you it's just been helping it it's a bit of a burning angle involved but I've incredibly amazingly amazingly nice meeting with him sup if you're gonna go bust me buy a big deal or anything in this world please do get in contact with the ASB isn't
sure bro I have no fucking clue what this means but this is the third message about this you've sent me and none of them made any sense this guy is fuckin ramblin
You Don't Wanna Know
[Until Dawn] Samantha Giddings x Female Reader
Word Count: 3.52k
Proofread: Yes
Content Warnings: Sam quite literally falls into insanity, mentions of blood, stabbing, knives, language (?), OOC Sam
[A/N]: This was fun to write, ngl, but I also wrote the whole thing fairly quickly in one sitting, so I apologize if it's kind of hard to read. I did read back over it, but I was sleep deprived, so there are probably mistakes.
Enjoy!
Blade in hand, Sam trembled, readying herself to strike the moment the creature lurking in front of her charged. She steadied her breath, her hazel eyes shooting toward Mike. She gave a subtle nod, a signal that he needed to ready himself for when they both took off running. With another puff of air to steel her nerves, Sam lifted her leg and slammed it down, her foot stamping the cold, cracking cement beneath her, echoing throughout the vacant room. A screech rang out unlike anything she or Mike had ever heard. The Wendigo that had been desperately trying to find the two in the room lunged forward toward the blonde. She timed her movements, ducking down when it came too close and managing to hook her arm around its inhumanely thin bicep. Willing her strength into the right spot, she shifted her weight and forced the Wendigo backward with a twist of her body, essentially throwing it to spiral toward the ground behind her.
“Mike, run!” She hollered, briefly glancing back to make sure he did so before her attention returned to the creature now scrambling to get back to its feet. Once regaining its bearings and balance, the Wendigo thrusted itself in Sam’s direction once again. Sam gripped the handle of her knife even tighter and made sure to angle herself to strike. The moment it came towering over her, Sam propelled the blade forward, listening with a grimace as it tore through the skin and thin muscle of the beast’s chest. It staggered backward, unfazed as the sharp steel was pulled out from its cavity, and quickly ran closer yet again, somehow unbothered by the gaping wound now pouring blood by the heart.
Upon seeing that the Wendigo wasn’t going down, Sam panicked, wondering how she could permanently keep it pinned. She couldn’t die here–she had someone she had to get back home to. She needed to be there for her, and she needed to be there for her friends, who had all likely made it back to the lodge and were needing a plan. If she could figure out how to kill these things, she could help the group defend themselves as well.
How could she kill this thing?
How the hell could she kill this thing?
Maybe she couldn’t kill it, but there had to be a way to hold it off long enough to get away.
She studied it as urgently as she could, barely coming up with a half-batched plan as it closed the distance between them. Her hands trembled, and she internally screamed at them to still. As the long, bony fingers of the Wendigo’s hand grasped Sam’s arm, she yelled out, jabbing the beast’s jugular as violently as she could and shoving it backwards. Still gripping her arm, the Wendigo yanked her to the ground as it fell onto its back. Before it could get the upper hand again, Sam shuffled up and gripped the handle with both hands. Planting both knees on either side of the creature’s torso, she dug the knife in further with all the force she could muster, yanking it sideways and slicing the thin muscle of the throat, trying her best to decapitate it. She made it about halfway to the nape of its neck before it screamed out louder in agony, instinctively picking her up and hurling her away in defense.
With a loud howl of pain, Sam slammed against the floor, skidding across the concrete and rolling away for a moment. She hissed as she propped herself up on her elbows, nails digging into her scalp as she tried to clear her vision. Tugging her hand away, she found blood now drizzling down from her fingertips, spilling out and wrapping around her digits like ribbon until it pooled across her palm and the backs of her knuckles. Almost entranced by the way it moved, she wriggled her fingers before clenching them together to form a fist.
The scars on the sides of her hands burst open at the sudden tensing, spilling out into more rivers that joined the staining streaks already there.
Then, upon hearing the echoey gurgling from her attacker, now several feet away, Sam’s head shot up. Her head throbbed harsher at the sudden motion, but she still managed to gain her bearings and assess what was happening ahead of her. The Wendigo, letting out scratchy, broken whines as blood oozed down its form onto the floor, shook and clawed at the skin now torn open on the side of its throat. Aside from the groan when she had been thrown, Sam hadn’t made any noise, meaning the beast ahead had no way of knowing where exactly she was.
She took this as her opportunity, noticing that the Wendigo was struggling to even stumble around, clutching at its throat and letting out another shrill wail. As soon as it collapsed to the floor, Sam turned and slipped against the concrete as she took off toward the direction Mike had gone, wrestling against the urge to look back. Against her better judgment, she clutched the bloodied knife toward her chest, praying she didn’t have to use it again.
A safe distance away, Sam called out for Mike.
Months after Sam and the others had left the lodge, they finally finished giving their statements to the investigators on the case. As far as she knew, everyone other than Josh had survived, though none of them had talked since they were picked up by the rescue helicopter. Sam had refused help from any of the counselors the police had recommended, not wanting to live through the horrors she had witnessed down in the mines all over again.
Instead, she focused on returning home to her girlfriend, who had no idea of what had been going on the entirety of the time she was gone. She had promised to only be gone for half a week at most, but after all of the interviewing, it had been well over three months. The officers on the case let her make a call to [Y/N] so she could explain the situation, but Sam had kept the details very minimal. The last thing she had wanted was to upset [Y/N] even further. And to her relief, the majority of the details hadn’t been released to the public yet, considering they hadn’t gone down to discover the monsters themselves.
Even when they went down to seek them out, Sam knew most of them wouldn’t survive.
Finally, after an excruciatingly long ride home, Sam had made it. She was quick to stumble up to the front door and let herself in, making a beeline to her shared bedroom with the one she was looking for. Before she got upstairs, however, she snuck into the garage and placed something down, then heading back inside. Briefly, she caught a glance of her reflection in one of the mirrors hung on the wall. She noticed the scar leading from her forehead up past her hairline had started to slowly heal, the one she had earned from her first full battle against a Wendigo. Her hand trailed up to gently let her fingertips graze alone the rough tissue, tracing the shape as she hummed.
For a moment, she considered splitting the scar back open, desperate to relive the thrilling moment she had suffered through down in the mines. She ultimately decided against it, figuring it wouldn’t make a difference. The scars would all still be there, even after they healed. She huffed out a small sigh and started toward the stairs again, finding herself standing in front of the bedroom door for a moment before nudging it open.
Normally, when Sam and [Y/N] saw each other again after being separated for an extended period of time, they’d hug one another tightly and spend the entire day together. Despite this routine, when they finally saw each other then, all Sam could do was wobble forward onto the bed before pulling the smaller girl into her chest. “Sam? Holy shit, you’re back,” [Y/N] whispered, sighing in relief as she tugged the blonde closer and turned her head to listen to her heartbeat. “I was so worried.” Sam grinned at her words, silently stroking her hair for a moment before she gave a response.
“Ah, no need for that. Things just got weird.”
In the back of her mind, Sam knew that “weird” was a severe understatement. However, she had no idea how to put what she had seen into words. She managed to dryly answer [Y/N]’s rapid questions for a bit longer, but ultimately fell asleep in the middle of the one-sided conversation, the exhaustion from the whole ordeal finally kicking in.
Days passed, and it was clear right away that Sam had changed. Instead of being the openly kind, considerate woman [Y/N] had grown to love over the years, she had become cold and distant, growing increasingly defensive and aggressive when anything was mentioned about her trip. How could she have grown hypervigilant over a trip with friends? She wouldn’t open up about anything, no matter what [Y/N] tried. She eventually shrugged it off, however, assuming it was just exhaustion and stress from whatever had taken place while she was gone.
She made it her goal to help Sam relax again. She’d cook her meals, get her clothes and everything ready when she’d shower, let her latch onto her when she would occasionally sleep in, and would practically baby her in some aspects, watching her like a hawk to make sure she didn’t collapse or grow visibly sick from whatever thought might’ve crossed her mind. This lasted quite a while. [Y/N] had been hoping Sam would finally start opening up after some time if she was just given the support and space she needed, though that moment never came.
Desperate, she had even researched possible ways to work through whatever was swarming through Sam’s mind. She reached out to a few licensed therapists here and there, but they weren’t able to do much since Sam wouldn’t cooperate with any of their questions. Nothing seemed to work. She just wanted the woman she fell in love with to come back to her.
As painful as it was to see her lover and best friend slipping away and becoming someone new, [Y/N] eventually respected her wishes and let her be, gradually halting her questions about the trip to the lodge. She couldn’t get into contact with anyone else from the friend group either–and she wondered if it was for the same reason that was causing Sam to treat her so differently as well. She hoped they wouldn’t all shut everyone else out the way the blonde was already doing to her.
The days would all go by the same way: [Y/N] would get up early when Sam would finally let go of her, fix breakfast for the two of them, eat alone in the kitchen, and head out for the day, usually catching a glimpse of Sam sauntering downstairs and sitting down at the table to finally eat. It was like she was running on a survival schedule. She’d only eat and sleep when she absolutely needed to. Anytime she tried to take a nap, she’d end up springing up from the cushions in a cold sweat, always out of breath. It didn’t take long for her to stop trying to rest throughout the day.
During those times, when she wasn’t able to sleep, she’d tap at the scar adoring her forehead then bring her hand back down, picturing the way the waves of her blood had danced against her skin months prior. She’d find herself staring at her palm for hours, losing track of time. It was hard for her to remember to eat when this happened, so she had to be reminded.
[Y/N] would text her at lunch, checking up on her, and hardly ever got a response. She’d carry out the rest of her shift for the day, then head home, always finding Sam blacked out on the sofa in the den or in their shared bedroom, struggling to stay asleep for more than a few minutes. She’d never greet [Y/N] anymore, but she would still make some kind of motion to let her know that she acknowledged her coming back into the house: a small hum, a little nod, or just a simple glance in her direction. Not once did she utter anything.
Then, to end the evening, [Y/N] would prepare dinner or order takeout. To her surprise, Sam would actually sit and eat with her most nights, though she never made conversation.
The two would then trudge up to bed once they finished cleaning up, shower and get changed into their nightwear, and then collapse into a deep slumber the moment they made it under the covers. This repeated for days, which shifted into weeks, and then shifted into months. As the time passed, Sam seemed to get a little less aggressive, though she was still relatively mute. One night, Sam got a call as they sat in the living room, picking at their fast food and watching something random on the TV. She seemed to grow relieved at whatever the caller had told her.
When [Y/N] asked what it was about, Sam simply pocketed her phone and shook her head, returning to her meal. “You don’t wanna know.”
[Y/N] frowned at this, but gave up instantly, forcing herself to push through her sudden nausea and finish her dish. As she took her last bite, she glanced over at Sam, who had put hers down on the coffee table and began to stare blankly at the wall across the room. With a small sigh, [Y/N] stood and picked up both plates, carrying them over to the kitchen to toss the remaining food and rinse off the forks and plates.
As she turned to slide the rack of the dishwasher open, [Y/N] blinked and froze upon seeing Sam wander out into the garage.
The blonde made sure to shut and lock the door behind her once inside the large space, her socks coming into contact with the chilled stone beneath her and hardly doing anything to keep her feet warm. She didn’t mind it though. Instead, she ignored the chill that shot up her spine and waltzed to a loose panel being pressed into place behind the multiple boxes she and [Y/N] had piled up for storage.
She lifted a few boxes, sliding them across the ground after moving them behind her, then wriggling the loose wooden plank from the wall and propping it up against a few heavier boxes a few feet away. Her hand reached inside the dark opening now revealed to her, not flinching so much as once at the feeling of cobwebs grazing her skin and entangling themselves around her fingers. She rummaged around momentarily, but cracked a small smirk upon feeling the thin plastic top of the bag she was searching for.
With a quick tug, she lifted the bag up and towards her chest, lazily moving the panel back into place before turning around and retracing her steps to the door leading back into the house. She flicked her wrist and unlocked the door with ease, pulling the door open and letting herself inside. Barely closing the door behind her, she casually walked into the kitchen, planning to stroll straight past [Y/N] without being noticed.
She was noticed, though. It wasn’t just her presence that was acknowledged.
Instantly, [Y/N]’s eyes trailed down and landed directly on the bag pressed tightly against Sam’s chest. She bristled at the sight of the rusted knife in the bag, coated in dried, flaking blood. Her gaze shot back up to Sam’s, who was now staring blankly at her.
“Sam?” She started cautiously. The blonde had no reply, only blinking at the sound of her name. “What is that?” Still, she was met with a deafening silence.
Finally, fed up with the lack of responses over the months, remembering each time Sam avoided the subject of the lodge, [Y/N] stepped forward and feigned her best look of strength. A newfound sense of anger bubbled up underneath her skin and up her throat. The questions began spilling from her lips before she could stop them. “Sam, what the hell is that? Why do you have it? Has that been here this whole time? Is that from the lodge? Did you fucking kill someone?”
For the first time since she made it home, Sam smiled, though it sent a chill down [Y/N]’s spine. The blonde’s grin only widened as she stepped forward. A sound mimicking a chuckle erupted from her throat, more of a low, broken rumble. She shook her head and lowered her tone as she spoke, adding onto the signs that were triggering alarm bells in [Y/N]’s head. She got her answer, even as Sam gave an indirect one.
“You don’t wanna know.”
She brushed past the trembling girl, calmly heading upstairs and into her office down the hall from the bedroom. There, she found the stand she had purchased shortly after making it home. Her fingers traced the lines of the bag still in her hands, toying with the corners before tugging it open. With a sickening smile, she slid the knife out at a painfully slow speed, marveling at the way the light overhead made the browning blood staining the rusted steel glisten.
A hum of admiration slipped from her lips as she dropped the bag by her feet, lifting the knife up higher to get a better view. With a gentle motion, she lowered it to rest on the wooden stand in front of her. Her feet led her backward enough for her to get a better view.
From the corner of her eye, she could see [Y/N] peering in from the doorway, beads of sweat trickling down her face and neck. Sam beamed at her, motioning for her to come in and stand next to her. Afraid of what would happen if she refused, [Y/N] did as told, hesitantly planting herself beside the blonde, whose hazel eyes were trained on her form. Finally, Sam waved her arm forward, motioning toward the knife.
“You sure you want to know what this is?”
With a loud swallow, [Y/N] nodded. “This is the knife that I used to save myself back at the lodge. I slit open a Wendigo’s throat to survive. Thought I’d keep it as a kind of token of sorts. Anytime I start to feel unsure about something, I can look to this as a source of motivation. It saved me once, it can save me again.”
[Y/N] could only stare ahead, her mind spinning as she struggled not to faint. What was a Wendigo? How would this knife be a token of motivation? How was Sam so disgustingly calm about murdering something? That wasn’t like her at all. She hated seeing the smallest of animals being hurt–how could she just murder one? Was this even the same Sam that she had been waiting for back when she was at the lodge to meet up with her friends? Who was the woman standing by her side?
She had so many questions–too many questions–and she wasn’t sure if she would ever get answers to any of them. Or even if she wanted to.
Finally, she tore her eyes away from the source of her spiking nausea to look up at Sam. Her blood ran cold when she turned to find the blonde staring down at her already, something in her eyes confirming [Y/N]’s fear that she had changed. That stomach-churning smile still painted her lips, though now it seemed far more menacing. A hand slid down to clasp [Y/N]’s, making her yelp and jump at the contact.
She glanced down to find Sam now interlocking their fingers, then back up to find the smile gone.
“What’s wrong, [Y/N]?” Sam questioned, her tone flat and devoid of any emotion.
She leaned down, now uncomfortably close to the smaller girl’s face, seemingly staring dead into her soul. She cocked her head to the side, almost in a mocking motion. “Did you not want to hear about this after all? I sure hope that’s not the case. It’d be a shame. After all, I’m trusting you to keep this little prize of mine between us, and only us. Will you do that for me?”
[Y/N] couldn’t speak, terrified of saying the wrong thing. She screamed at her mind to say something, anything at all. All she could do, however, was stare. She gave a small, almost unnoticeable nod after a torturous string of silence. One in which Sam only stared, unblinking, into her eyes.
Finally, Sam’s lips split into a grin again. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Good. Let’s see just how long you can keep that promise.”
Stories love talking about "cursed" beings like vampires. But like. Being a vampire is awesome. You get super strength and shapeshifting and shit, and all you need to do is drink blood? Drinking blood doesn't even have to kill something! Humans eat the innards of other animals, and that's objectively worse.
Anyway, the whole bursting-into-flames thing with sunlight is a real problem, I guess, but anyway. Half the time vampires just glitter.
So I was thinking of a real curse.
Imagine not being able to sleep. Ever. Every passing day, your brain gets tired-er and tired-er and you just. Can't sleep. You move slower and slower, lose the ability to write, suddenly can't see straight.
As more days pass, it gets harder and harder to remember who you are. Everything in the past goes blurry, like your dreams are coming out into the real world and trying to strangle you. And you can't die. So you're just stuck, getting more and more insane. Look up some sleep deprivation stuff. It's crazy what it will do to someone.
And the real cherry on the sundae?
Part of the curse is that you can force people to feel how exhausted you are. If the curse gets far enough, you can instantly knock them out. Imagine it. You want nothing more than to just get one wink of sleep, to have just one dream, and your power is to force people into slumber.
I dunno about you, but to me that would suck way more than being a vampire.
i was just scrolling through my notes app and found this gem and thought i would share it with whoever reads this :)
(i wrote this a couple years ago right before i went to audition for my high school’s musical lol)
i walk into the black box to look for a blue velcro lunch box, and i see a girl with light blue faded to to light pink hair sitting on one of the little bleacher things farthest from me. she looks up at me as i examine the room. i see another kid plucking the strings of a bass and another gone completely feral spinning around in a spinny chair and just going insane. his head appears to be tilted back along with his body, and he seems to be laying back in the chair. i spare a glance at the girl and she just looks at me, her eyes just slightly begging for help. i simply turn and casually (i hope) walk away, without looking back.
Omg bugged bo
I got maybe a lil carried away doodling Bugbo......
Hi here art bye
So I got an email at work telling me to change my password... because I must do that every 2 months...
That is... known security theater ( The security word for "scam" ) this in combination with admin by request (As in, I must give a written explanation for why I want to use my PC) and us having NO clue how our own protocols work means I am now 100% certain that whoever does our security have no idea what they are doing... and that we have no system in place that can do ANY sanity check if the security people know what they are doing...
In other news, I soon have a meeting with my boss where he wants to know how it is going. That is going to be FUN! I am putting a PRESENTATION together!
I consider my job to be "Create value for the company". And that involves telling the company when they are being idiotic.
Maybe the conpany already knows? No. They need to start getting NIS2 certified in August... and they think that they are ready for that, and it will be a easy thing to do...
Battle Axe
(TIGGER WARNING PLEASE READ: murder, victim, insanity, unholy, weapons)
