Tokyorev Angst - Tumblr Posts

hi are you able to make a part two for this post? :0 if not that’s fine!! im in love with ur writing

Genre: Angst, Angst/No Comfort

Part Two of TR characters x estranged!reader

Included Characters: Ran, Kokonoi, Kazutora

⚠️TW/CW⚠️: pure angst, mentions of death, cursing, mentions/suggestions of suicide and attempted suicide, gaslighting, jealousy, mild injury, depression, self-harm in Kazutora’s part, manipulation, mentions of obsessions, trauma

A/N: Per-request, here is a part two of TR characters who are jealous with estranged!reader. Buckle up and get your tissues ready, this is gonna hurt you just as much as it hurt me 🥲 Enjoy!

Ran

“Seriously, y/n, you should go,” Rindou says softly, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop you from entering the club he and Ran owned. “No! Is Ran alright? I haven’t seen him in weeks and I’m worried sick!” you cry, trying to push past the younger Haitani, only for him to once again, gently pull you away from the club’s entrance by your shoulder. Frustrated, he grips your other shoulder, forcing you to still and face him, “y/n I know you're upset-” “I’m not!” you cut off. Rindou huffs before speaking up once again, “y/n I don’t want you to get hurt, please just go home and I can explain everything later.” “But, Rindou-” “God you’re so annoying,” a voice rings through the air, turning both yours and Rindou’s head to face the very root of the commotion between you two. Ran walks over to the two of you, gently patting Rindou on the shoulder to signal him to go back inside. Rindou’s grip tightens on your shoulder, hesitant to leave you to your demise, but he knew he couldn’t defy his brother. He lets go of you and walks back into the club. Gritting your teeth, you turn to Ran, “Ran, where have you been..,” you reach out to try to take his hand only for the dual-haired male to smack it away, “That’s none of your business.” “What?” Scoffing, he shakes his head before stepping closer to you, an unfamiliar anger radiates from him, an emotion that you’ve never seen directed at you before, “Are you fucking dumb or what? Can’t you see I don’t want you around anymore?” His words hurt, they hurt more than any stab wound or injury that could ever be inflicted on you. “Ran I…if there’s something I did wrong-” you were cut off with a slap to the face, the sudden action stinging your cheek raw. “I don’t want to see your pathetic face again. The only reason I was friends with you was because I felt sorry for you, but now I see why you didn’t have any in the first place.” That was all he said before walking off back into the brightly lit building, leaving you in the silence of the cold streets, with fresh wounds to mend all on your own. 

That night you stayed awake thinking about Ran had said about being your friend out of pity and it broke your heart knowing damn well it was true

You never had any friends due to your reputation for being “clingy” and “two-faced smarty pants” so maybe that’s why Ran didn’t want to be around you anymore

When you would go to school, life was hell. Everyone would whisper rumors about what had happened between you and the older Haitani. “I heard they were fwb.” “He was probably friends with her because she’s the smartest student in the school.” “For someone so smart, she’s really dumb to associate with a Haitani!”

You barely ate or slept, obsessed with your studies and upholding the title of the “smartest student” because it was the only thing you had left.

Some days when you see Ran around in school, you feel angry at what he did to you, but would also feel jealous of the multiple friends he had around him wherever he went.

It was as if he was silently telling you, “You’ll always be nothing but know-it-all”

Sometimes Rindou would come by your house to tend to your health after seeing you lose so much weight and letting yourself go, but you’d make sure to lock your doors–and windows–so that you didn’t have to face him because of how stupid you felt after not listening to him.

If you had stayed home, if you had just listened to Rindou, would things have been different? Would you still have Ran as your only friend?

Kokonoi

“What are you doing?” I questioned Kokonoi. He grits his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he furrows his brows. Pouting, you take a seat across from him in the library, smirking at his attempts to try to ignore your presence. “For a gangster, you sure do act childish, Kokonoi,” you mock. Yet, Kokonoi remained focused on what he was reading. “What would Akane think of you now if she saw you living the life of a thug?” Slam! Slowly looking up from where his attention was focused, he finally greets your devious gaze with a murderous look. “What the hell do you want?” “It’s such a shame,” fauxed disappointment crosses your features, “you would’ve been quite the guy if you weren’t living the life of scum.” You calmly sigh as you pick up the book that your old friend had slammed on the table. Koko was livid, blood boiling and all, but he’d be damned if he lost his composure and gave you the satisfying humiliation you sought in him, “I could say the same about you. Despite being the top student at your school, you have the mind of scum yourself,” he remarks. Chuckling, you shake your head, “No wonder why Inupi hasn’t abandoned you yet.” Your face drops, dead eyes boring into Kokonoi, “You’re so pitiful, even for a money-making genius.” On the outside, it would seem as if your words bounced right off of the collected male. However, deep down, his heart was bleeding slowly as you ridiculed him and exploited his trauma for your own benefit. He refused to give in to your sadistic satisfactions. Stubborn as he may be, Koko could never ignore or refuse the pain that came with your sharp words.

You and Kokonoi had fallen out of touch after the death of your friend Akane, due to the fact that you blamed him for just rescuing Inui and not Akane.

Both of you were smart, and were complete geniuses when it came to making money. And, despite being on bad terms with each other, you both silently competed with one another as to who could earn more money when the opportunity arose.

And, sure, you highly disliked Koko for his obsessiveness with Akane, but what really topped it off was when he had dragged Inui into the life of delinquency with him.

Sometimes, you’d wonder if Koko only stayed with Inupi because he looked so much like his sister, slowly coming to the realization that he never moved on from Akane.

You would worry that he’d possibly get Inupi killed due to his stubbornness and obsession, so from then on you did everything in your power to stop his efforts of success, even if it meant holding Akane's death over his head.

Fun fact: Your just as obsessed with Inupi as Koko is

When you see Inupi around school, you try to turn him against Kokonoi and try to convince him to come back to school and quit living as a thug.

Kokonoi does the same, but tries to manipulate him into believing that he’ll help him revive the Black Dragons to the way they are again.

Kazutora

“I’ll kill him,” Kazutora mutters as he throws another dart at Mikey’s picture. Rolling your eyes, you continue to tend to your studies on the floor. “Could you keep it down, I’m trying to study.” A sigh escapes your lips as you witness yet another dart pierce the picture of the young gang leader in the photo. “What do you even have against Mikey, he knows you didn’t mean-” “How the hell would you know?!” he suddenly shouts, his shadow swallowing your small frame as he towers over you with a hateful aura. You keep calm, gently placing your things down as you stand up to challenge the duel- hair colored boy. “Because if he thought you did it on purpose, he would’ve killed you by now.” He scoffs, “So you're taking his side huh? What? You want me gone too?” he growled. “What? No! I’m just saying, you don’t have to resort to violence to solve your problems!” you shoot back. “If you just-” “NO!” his raised voice catches you off guard, completely freezing you in place. “Why the hell should I listen to you when you don’t even know what it’s like to be in my place?” he hisses, glaring daggers at your cowering figure. “You grew up with a fucking spoon on a fucking silver platter. Even now, you get anything and everything without having to fight or work for it.” Your lips trembled as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “Kazutora…t-that’s not… ” “It is! You’re just a spoiled bitch that gets what she wants because you had friends to support you. You had parents to support you. But guess what, not everyone has the life you live, so don’t tell me how to deal with my problems when you've never been through your own. God, why does a girl like you even exist?” It was as if your whole world was shattering all at once. Why did he say that? Was it all really true? Warm streaks of tears cascaded down your face as you slowly broke down at your friend’s words. “Wow,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “what the fuck are you crying for? If you’re really this miserable over a few words, then why don’t you do the world a fucking favor and go die somewhere. The last thing someone wants is a crybaby goodie-two-shoes.” “Why, Kazutora?” you whimper, “why are you saying this, I didn’t mean to-” “Get out.” “W-what?” Growling, he grabs your wrist and pulls you toward the door of his house, “I said,” he throws you down on the concrete of his porch along with your things, “Get the hell out! Go away! Go kill yourself and leave me be!”

That day, you didn’t understand why Kazutora drove you away, but regardless it didn’t stop you from going into a depression.

No matter how much you tried to study to drive away your thoughts, it wouldn’t work.

You couldn’t sleep at night, feeling guilty about your upbringing and thinking how much Kazutora had suffered in his past as a kid, while you sat home with everything you needed while your parents took care of everything.

You developed the habit of often apologizing for things that weren’t your fault and your self-esteem had gone down a lot, so you were constantly putting yourself down.

You hadn’t seen Kazutora that much during school either, but he certainly saw you, as well as the way your other friends would crowd around you, asking about your day and how you were feeling and complimenting the newest clothes you were wearing. It made him more pissed off seeing how you had the life he never got to have and yet despite what you were feeling, you still had people to support you.

On rare occasions when you did see Kazutora around school, he’d insult you or flat out curse you out whenever you so much as looked at him. He hated you with a passion and the fact that you were seeking him out caused him to fester his hatred.

Eventually, he escalated to bullying you when it was clear you wouldn’t leave him alone and you’d just accept because you thought that you deserved it.

One day, Kazutora had ended up having a group of gang members beat you until sunrise and afterwards you went home and ended up cutting your wrists. 

Your parents had to drive you to the hospital and when you had explained to them what happened and what you did, you never went back to school again and was homeschooled until further notice.

forget-me-nots

Based on request here

Genre: Angst, Angst and no comfort

Bonten Sanzu x Traitor!Reader

Warnings: Mentions/suggestions of drugs, mentions/suggestions of usage of drugs, suggestions/mentions of death, mentions/suggestions of blood, injury, cursing, trauma, scars, reader dies, torture, weapons, angst

Sanzu sighs, walking over to your quivering form on the bloody floor of your apartment. How pathetic. “Now Doll~” he hums, crouching to meet you at your eye-level, bloody katana in hand, “you know the rules. So there’s no point in cryin’ now.'' 

True. You did know. You knew what would happen the moment you even thought about betraying Bonten. About betraying Mikey, and the consequences that would follow after doing so.

Slowly, the tip of the blade grazes your arms, now burning and stinging. The pungent odor of copper and flesh fills your once, comforting home, a smell that was absolutely intoxicating to the crazed man in front of you. You were too weak to try to fight back anymore. Your body was growing numb and losing feeling. Everything around you was slowly becoming nothing but a blur and it was getting harder to stay awake for much longer. 

“S-sanzu,” you whimper, “please,” you hiccup, “I didn’t have a choice…they were gonna hurt you,” you whimpered, fresh drops of salty tears running down your cracked face and into your bleeding cuts. 

He scoffs, “You idiot. You still don’t get it?” 

His once amused and bright, blue eyes instantly turn as cold as ice as he casts a contorted look of disgust and disappointment, “It doesn’t matter what happens to me…or to anyone else. All that matters is the king. I thought I had made that clear to you when you first started working for me.” he sighs, pushing off his knees to stand on his feet. 

“That’s right…,” you murmur to yourself, slumping against the floor as you give in to the fatigue washing over you, “I did break the rules, I betrayed Mikey, I put the whole organization at risk and that makes me a liability. But, for the most part, it was certainly worth my life.”

Your eyes were void of its usual glint of life and your body grew completely numb and cold. You rest your head against the hardened wall, now staring up at the last person’s face you’ll ever see. “I’m glad that I met you, you know.” 

Sanzu quirks a brow, “You're on the verge of dying and yet you have the nerve to say you were glad to have met me? I’m gonna kill you soon.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “I’d rather it be you than anyone else.” 

Despite his cold words and his familiar unreadable poker face, you could tell that something was holding him back from killing you. Or maybe you were just hoping he’d take pity on you. Either way, you were content with what was to come.

You turned your head to watch the pendulum of the wooden clock stored in the small corner of your apartment. You close your eyes, honing in the sound of the miniscule tics counting down the last few moments of your life. 

Dying with regrets was way worse than dying itself.

The grim sound of midnight struck, and finally, it was time. You slightly peek an eye out, fluttering your half-lidded eyes as you watch Sanzu put on his black leather gloves. 

“Any last words?” His voice was unusually soft, almost calm. It was as if he was getting ready to say goodbye. 

You grinned, “That’s awfully generous of you.” 

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

Your boss was never one to go back on his word. Even if he was about to kill someone. He was honest, and surprisingly, quite fair. 

You couldn’t help but feel pity for him. How lonely he must be.

“Please take better care of yourself in the future and remember to water the flowers,” you smiled up at him one last time, “and if you ever want to talk…just remember I’m always here.”

And that was all.

The little twisted voice laughed and shouted in his head, mocking I told you so! 

 He knew it was going to happen eventually. He always knew that at some point, he’d be forced to end your life, just like the rest of the traitors murdered by his hand.

High or not, Sanzu could sniff a rat a mile away. That’s what he was good at. What he was trained to do. What he was made for. And, like all the other poor souls that thought they could get away with such treachery, you had met your gruesome demise by his hands. But, despite your actions, he still held a sincerity towards you, even after he had murdered you. Sanzu sighs, throwing his head back against the leather headrest of his office chair. 

It’s been a day since your death. Most of the executives of Bonten knew what had happened, but didn’t care much, seeing how Sanzu had gone through more than just a few of his assistants. Everyone just went about their day as usual. Business was business. 

Yet, the pink-haired man seemed more distant than usual, which wasn’t missed by his boss.

“Sanzu pay attention.” Mikey’s hardened voice warned. 

No matter what he did, his mind was constantly occupied by you.

The things you would do on a normal day, the conversations he had with you on break, even the small things about you, he remembers it all.

And it was fucking bugging him.

 His head was pounding at the thought of you. The dead traitor he justifiably murdered in order to preserve the existence of Bonten.

He runs his hands down his face, scooting up to his desk to finish the rest of the paperwork he needed to finish. Picking up some papers, he squints to read some of the fine prints, only to slam them back down on the dark wooden surface. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He glances at the left side of his workspace, studying the small flower pot of tiny blue and yellow flowers. 

“Don’t forget to water the flowers.” 

That’s right. You had given him those flowers not too long ago. You were so happy when you did, as if you had poured your heart into the gift itself.

He stares at it, as if it were you staring right back at him with that same bright smile of yours. 

Sanzu’s fists were balled up until his knuckles showed white, his jaw locked as he glared at the pot. He gets up, grabbing the flowers and chucking them across his office. 

I need to forget. 

He seats himself back in his chair before hastily digging for the drugs he had kept stored in his office drawer. His hands were shaking before even sniffing the damn stuff. 

Why was he shaking? He didn’t know. All he wanted was to forget everything. Forget what he did. Forget you.

He’s quick to dump the powdery contents on his desk, not caring about wasting it. Separating a good amount into four thin lines, he quickly inhales each line, one by one, ignoring the burning fumes of his nose as he finishes most of the contents. 

Soon, the familiar rush of adrenaline and the blurriness of his surroundings are present to his now disoriented senses. His mind was groggy, his heartbeat drumming in his ears as he slowly fell unconscious, succumbing to the peaceful darkness of his clouded mind. 

I need to forget. 

Leaning back into his chair, he relaxes, letting all the tension melt away as his eyes flutter shut, letting the drugs take effect, letting his mind wander back to the past. The past with you, that is.

The first day you had been assigned to him, he thought he’d be through with you in less than a week. But, boy, was he wrong. You were different from the rest of the female workers in Bonten. You didn’t care for money, or fame, or power. Hell, you didn’t even care for sex nor spending time with the other Bonten members. 

But, the one thing you did care about was him. 

Every morning you would bring Sanzu his usual bitter hazelnut brewed cup of coffee while greeting him with a sickly sweet smile, and in turn, he would return it with the edges of his diamond shaped scarred lips upturned into a small toothy grin followed by his cheesy earl morning greeting, “mornin’ doll~”. It took him a while to warm up to, but you certainly grew on him. Just a bit.

What was more puzzling to him, was your caring and kind nature towards him, despite the knowledge of what he did and the things he’s done.

Whenever he was high out of his mind and curled up on his office chair, you’d always be there to watch over him and do any remaining reports he had long forgotten after seeking solace in the various substances he would carry around in his suit pockets. 

Or when he would argue with the Haitani brothers, you’d always take his side, even if he was wrong or just spouting nonsense. Deep down, Sanzu could tell that you had a knack for reading people. For reading him. After all, you were around him most of the time, especially when he would mumble random shit when he was high and asleep. 

When he was hurt after coming back from his usual hazardous missions, you were always waiting for him in his office late at night with a first aid kit in hand to patch him up. 

When he spent his restless nights drinking his soul away in an old bar, you would sit with him until he passed out cold so you could take him back to your place to sober up. 

It was almost ironic how both of you acted so similar, yet so different. It was like you had your own sixth sense that was built into you just so you could take care of the troubled man you’d grown to be fond of. Just like how he had his own to protect Mikey at all costs.

“Why the hell are you around me all the damn time? I don’t pay you to be my caretaker.” he huffs, glaring at you from across from him as you stitch up a cut he had earned not too long ago. 

You giggled at his usual gruff behavior, “I thought it was obvious haru,” you grin, the nickname music to the wounded man’s ears as he fights back a smile, forcing out a frown of displeasure. 

“I wouldn’t be asking if I knew. And quite calling me that. It’s ‘boss’ to you.” you smiled.

“All right, I’m done!” getting up, you place the medical kit back to where it belongs in the office.

Sanzu groans as he gets up, his body aching all over. Rolling his neck, he turns around, meeting your bright e/c shining eyes.

He narrows his eyes, “What?”

You hummed, “I have something for you.”

“And?” he asks, folding his arms.

You grinned, presenting a small brown garden pot, with small, bright blue flowers. You walk towards the tall man, gently taking his hands one by one to hold the pot. “They’re called ‘forget-me-nots’. I heard they bring luck and protection, so I thought I would stop by the flower shop to buy you some.”

He nods absentmindedly, “You certainly did your homework on a bunch of useless plants.” 

Your smile slowly faded, dejected at his words. 

“But you’ve missed a couple things.”

You pipe up at his sudden interest, eyes blinking owlishly, “I…did?”

He hums, holding the pot higher to get a better look at the flowers, “It isn’t just a symbol for protection and luck, it also symbolizes true love. The plant has a story of origin, you know.”

Sanzu waltzes over to his desk, gently placing the pot on the corner of his desk and leaning against the opposite side of it.

 “The origin of these flowers were based in Germany. The whole name itself was German. The fable behind them starts off  with a couple walking near the Danube River and they had came across these bright blue flowers. The man goes to get the flowers for the woman, but in doing so, the flowers were dropped and swept away by the river and in the end tells her that he should never forget him, which is how the flowers got the name ‘forget-me-nots.’ ”

He smirks at your shocked and slightly flushed expression. “I see…then, perhaps I made the wrong choice in flowers?”

“Not at all. I think it conveys quite a message.”  he muses. His gaze continues to hold your own. 

“I don’t suppose you happen to try to express more than just concern for my safety?” he asked.

You cleared your throat. “As a matter of fact, you're right.” 

“And?”

You sigh, cheeks growing warmer as you look to the ground. “I love you Sanzu.” 

He already knew that, but he just wanted to hear you say it. He hums pushing off the desk, walking over to where you stood. He brings a hand to tilt your head up to meet his gaze, “That’s quite the statement doll.” He leans over, lips hovering over your own, “Do you wanna know why I keep you around?” 

“Why?”

He grins, “It’s cuz’ I love you too.” 

Sanzu’s eyes are blown wide, his grip tightening on his chair as he gasps for hair. He was covered in cold sweat. His hair was disheveled, and his hands were trembling. 

Why can’t I forget? 

He knew why. God he wished he didn’t, but he knew.

It’s because, for the first time in his life, he had truly loved someone who loved him back, and because of him he wouldn’t be able to take your love back anymore. He wouldn’t be able to take back what he did.

 “Sanzu?” you whispered, your honied voice catching the attention of the pink-haired man.

“What is it?” he sighs, not paying you any attention as he squints to read what was on the packet of documents he was looking over.

You smiled, “Don’t forget me.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What?” 

“I promise to never forget you, so promise me the same, ok?” 

He looked up, staring for a brief moment in bewilderment, before pulling over his cold exterior.

“You mind if I talk with you later doll? Kinda busy right now,” he says gruffly, turning back to the documents scattered across his desk. You chuckled, bowing before exiting his office. 

Glancing back to the pot of flowers on his desk, he says “I promise, I’ll never forget you.”

NOOOOOO FUCK NOOOOOOOOO NOT TODAY PLEASE NOT TODAY

MISTAKES ⛥ KEN RYUGUJI

Genre: Fluff & angst

Warning: Spoilers of the last arc of the manga

A/N: Over 3.8k love letter to the incredible character that Draken is, childhood acquaintances to lovers with a sprinkle of angst and sweet pining.

Likes, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged ✨

"It would be a miracle being able to forget you."

You thought you know love with the warmth of your mother, at six love changes to the form of water and a fist, to be precise Ken Ryuguji's first, an older boy was being a bully to you in recess, stepping on your crayons, paper, and your lunch box, the boy was trying to throw your water at your hair until Ken rescues you without a problem, hitting him so hard that the liquid splashed everywhere, making sure of telling the boy how much of a dumbass is if he dared to hit someone for being bored. When you said thanks for sticking up for you he laughed scratching his nape.

—Your welcome, I did it because I’m the strongest— watching the tall blond boy with a cute dapper hairstyle you thought that for you he was the strongest person in the world, like a titan against those who wrong you, you show to your Mamma a pretty drawing where a tall stick figure is defending you against a monster.

Ken Ryuguji with his blond hair, big smile, nice height, and good manners that always know the answer when is about numbers; you never thought badly of him, when you forget your bento in class, you can hear the teachers gossiping about him.

— He's not going to get very far— she eats her chicken leaving a stain on the meat thanks to the gloss she's wearing

— What do you expect? have you smelled him? he smells like a love hotel, the brothel smell— they laugh, your mind doesn't comprehend.

What is so funny? "Draken lives in a place where love is? That must be beautiful!? And his smell? What about it? Dada smells the same”.

When you have nine and your Father leaves your mom for another woman that smells like that, you understand what a brothel is. Ken Ryuguji keeps being the best boy you know, the only one who's always polite to you and smiles big when he gets an answer right, so why you would treat him differently no matter how he's raised.

The next memory you have of Ken is at fifth grade, every day he's scolded by the teachers for the tattoo in his head matching with the new bruises he sports every day he talks about someone named Mikey, something in your stomach does a somersault when you lock gazes, the teacher is asking for an explanation but the kid laughs in his face.

No one knows but his eyes and tattoo are the first " serious" sketch you draw in your life.

Two words… Ken Ryuguji… Ken fucking Ryuguji… AKA Draken, you wrote his name in the notebook, with all the force in the world, you could muster using your eraser to delete the proof of your thoughts of him, applying so much strength that the paper was cut in the middle. What is the reason? Why do you do that? You have a crush on the delinquent of the class who only has eyes for the midget called Mikey since you have six...pathetic.

What does Mikey have? That seems to impress almost every man on a ratio of 5 meters, as a modern Pied Piper of Hamlin, taking away freedom in exchange for being part of his stupid bike gang. You feel a presence behind you when you're struggling to do your math exercises.

— Sorry to bother, you have made a mistake there— the voice of your current predicament says kindly; trying to hide your feelings when you look at him as you grip the pencil harder.

Ken fucking Ryuguji, right? With his long dumb blond hair now styled in a braid, stupid black eyes that look like two pots of your favorite black ink, the haori that he seems to have thousands of copies for everyday use, his little crooked teeth when he smiles that make him look more human in comparison to the dragon image that everyone seems to have about him.

— Where?— You attempt to sound open to critics, even with the venom dripping from your voice makes him smile bigger

— Just there, the symbol is not right,— Looking at the notebook, it is easy to find your mistake, your pride is hurt. Why is he so good at math? When you, with all your years of forced Kumon, can't improve.

— Thanks— erasing everything, so he cannot witness more of your flaws

— Hey! It was just a symbol, no need to erase everything,— As you stared at him, he probably realized you didn't want more comments. He took off as quickly as he had come over.

In recess, your best friend is slurping her chocolate milk

—You like him, is so foolish how you act as if you hated him—observing how you try to forget your mistake, calming the beating of your heart

— I don't act as I hate him, what are you talking about?— trying to laugh away your awkwardness

—Babe everyone has a bet on when you are going to kill him with a pencil —You grimaced at the comment as you use the ice-cold bottle of yogurt on your face to feel refreshed, a part in your mind thinks that the chances of that happening are so low.

Hurt Ken? No...Maybe Mikey for being a big baby demanding attention, even if the rumors are right, he could kill you with only his pinkie.

Sighing —I'm a big fool for him— you smile with a trace of gloominess, she looks at the clouds like you have said the sky is blue

—I know, everyone who knows you as much as I could notice, yet this is not Pride and Prejudice you need to show him— you nod.

Exactly one week later, in the shade of a big tree, you confess your feelings. You were startled by a soft drizzle in autumn. He looks at the sky; you glimpse at how his hair has little beads of water, which shines in the cold sun. Your heart beats at the same time as the air exhales from his lungs, knowing how the story is going to end, having read enough books to know rejection.

—You deserve better—is his first sentence in the long statement, your mind is out of your body.

Better? Better than him? What? Who can compete with this man-boy hybrid? You half-listen until he says

—Is just a crush I can assure you when you're older you will not remember the boy with the shaved sides and the dragon tattoo— he tries to light the mood nevertheless the day was ruined, nodding you say thanks for the time he gifted you, not paying attention at how his hand seeks for yours, running away from him, the heavy rain begins, you count that moment as your first mistake.

You begin reading poetry made by other teenagers comparing themselves to sharp objects, they have been broken apart by love. On those shards of glass, you feel connected because loving Ken made you a loser. He left a big wound that even pouring paint on it feels raw like nothing could heal your shattered heart. In that time you encounter Emma Sano understanding everything in the soft way Ken looks at her.

Your mom sighs when you tell her that between sobs

—You are an artist, why you don't capture that feeling— with her advice, you create a worthy paint, almost dissecting your heart to the world, that was the piece that scores you a place in the art program in high school, the piece decorates for two days the hallways of the middle school, so your classmates can appreciate it.

You catch the subject of your heartbreak seeing it, his friend as always alongside him, he gasps in a show of emotion so not him, almost instantly his facial expression changes to a serene mask

—Let's go, Mikey, we are running late—he walks in big strides, said boy looks at the painting

—Kenchin— he says in the softest voice you ever heard in the short one, yet he runs, jumping begging for a piggy ride.

Even at graduation, you don't say goodbye to Ken Ryuguji. You count that as your second mistake.

Talking with your best friend, she tried to get together once in a while between laughs. You remember Ken for the first time in a long time. They say the rain brings memories. In a show of emotion, You ask Hiromi about him. Water is related to Ken in your mind. Even after all those years, the kisses you gift and the hands of other lovers, the ghost touch of the blond boy is the most distinct memory of love for you.

—Uh? Draken? I haven't heard from him in a long time. I don't know...he's not in my high school—You furrow your brows, how can she not know about him,

—Don't tell me you like him even now? —She laughs but gets quiet when sees your effort to laugh it out, asking around the party until someone says something about him.

—That guy is so cool because he has a repair shop now —says one of the boys of your old class, smoking a cigarette —He even left gang life— looking at his jacket.

—You keep being a delinquent?" —He chuckled and nodded

—Yes! I follow the Invincible Mikey in his new gang— you frown, Mikey has a new gang? Adding to that, why in that equation there's no Ken? Clearly a mystery, but you get distracted by life, getting ready to enter college so you could earn a spot in the art program. No one comments on how your paintings got water dragons as central themes.

Hiromi screams, making the people of the restaurant jump at the sudden sound

—She's the next Picasso, Da Vinci, Kahlo, Congratulations on being an Art Major!— she cries as you search for a napkin trying to not let her snot fall on her ramen

—"T-Thanks, Thanks, stop crying, oh my God! you're more excited than I"—Laughing with her boyfriend who’s trying to clean her up until you see him.

The same height, hairstyle, this time without his faithful rhombus' sweater he's chatting with a blond one, two twins who seem to devour their food too, Ken Ryuguji who seems to get caught in the earlier rain, he probably felt your stare because your eyes lock, the world rotates more slowly, a spark of recognition makes his face glow, a big smile breaks, the world spins out of the axis, somewhere on the planet something clicks, the oldest soulmates meets again.

WHAT THE FUCK? Echoing in your mind so hard that you're considering taking the pills in your bag to drown the ache. Sadly the exchange ends there because he stops midairs his wave to you, a sense of a pit of fire in your stomach, he nods his head to you, Hiromi turns around waving too, yet the two worlds don't rotate to each other, your phone rings a perfect excuse to go outside to take the air.

“Hey! I know is not the time to do this but I think we should break up” of course, your life again tumbles apart, and ok is the only thing you can say to your now ex-boyfriend.

Hiromi is waiting with her coat on, what magnificent friend you have, rolling your shoulders you sit slurping your noodles, tears falling free yet your friend doesn't comment, when the waiter comes you ask for another bowl “For university, at least I will study what I love, I don’t care for men” Hiromi nods with you saying cheers even when you guys are drinking plain water. You don’t notice when Ken goes but the time to pay comes, the waiter says a gentleman with a dragon tattoo pays for your meal, the food in your belly roared like lava.

The next summer drowning in self-deprecating thoughts is when you have another encounter with Ken Ryuguji, you are crying (Nothing new there) he's drinking iced green tea spotting you sitting like a sad ragged doll in the park bench, hiding behind an enormous sketchbook ripping paper with a furrowed brow

Some things don't change no matter how many years have passed, he remembers the little girl with pigtails he helped and nos the beautiful person you have bloomed into, he walks not paying attention to the sweat building in his palms or how his breathing is getting faster, the blood circulating to his cheeks he thinks in bikes or something familiar, to not fall against the concrete and do something embarrassing.

You look up, his breath gets caught, he feels like something licks his stomach, a burst of heat, something so warm... familiar, homey; discreetly he cleans his hands on his back and tries to smile non-aggressive. Your eyes open surprised until you remember the sad state you're in because quickly you're cleaning the tears, snot, the deep black charcoal stains.

—Are you alright?—Your name rolls so beautifully on his lips, the sun renders you like an ice pop melting at the trash can, he waits patiently until your brain is connected with your mouth.

—Yes, thank you— the response is so automatic that he doesn't buy that, he asks silently if he can sit with you before you take your thing in your bag he put them in his lap

—Let's try again. How are you?— with only those words forgetting that you haven't seen Ken for years and never been that close to being considered friends you bawl.

There's always something so comforting surrounding Ken, between hiccups you tell him how art school is making you feel the worst, how every day they critique your work and nitpick all the details, the snot falls to your shirt until he offers you his handkerchief with a neat K.R. embroidered. —This looks expensive —You want to clean yourself with the tissue you found in your tote bag.

—Emma gifted them to me— oh! That was unexpected a mask fell into your face you are sure they might be engaged or married until he says

—She’s dead— you don't know if you pass out because of the surprise, the stress, or the empathy for Ken.

When you wake up, you are resting on a futon in the office. Ken is repairing something in the garage, speaking in a hushed voice with another man, He finally sees you. He dismissed his friend who waved saying bye.

— Hey— well that’s awkward; You are offered a seat next to him until he finishes. You have no idea what to say, he opens his lips and begins to tell you about what went wrong years ago. He doesn't cry, but he takes minutes to keep telling you about the deaths, the goodbyes, having to bury a friend and her first crush you listen not once thinking in your feelings just your heart beating in synchrony with Ken’s.

When he finished his tale. He searches for fright in your eyes.

— You were only a child— you say. He laughed and denied you a statement; trying to bring himself down — No, you were a child, no matter how tall or responsible for your age you were, you were a child, you did what you could with what you had at that moment, so please remember no matter what you didn’t deserve to carry all that weight at fifteen— he cries quietly with your hand in his back making circles.

Both of you don’t talk about it again, he doesn't question about your new habit to visit the place with all your materials, quietly drawing as he works, you don’t ask him his motives when he goes to your campus inviting you if you want to go to a ramen tasting escapade with his friends. The dynamic of childhood acquaintances to friends is smooth, even when you guys hide the skeletons of feelings somewhere.

The days blend together in a dynamic that both of you are too afraid to name, walking on eggshells in name of past loves, pining, regrets and what ifs.

The first time you invite him to an exposition of your college where one of your paintings would be exhibited... he's a mess. Mitsuya reassure him telling him his outfit is perfect not too fancy not too casual, perfect for a date, he's quick to deny it but Mitsuya is too smart and knows him so much to understand and pick up the blush of his face he tries to hide.

When he enters the gallery he feels so out of place, this is not a territory for someone like him, you say hi complete ecstatic to see him there until he gives you a single pink peony, your smile blinds him, raking his arm to introduce him to your classmates.

He's trying to give a good impression, to hide how his nails have bits of grease he couldn't clean no matter how many times he washes with a brush his hands, a classmate makes a wow sound.

–Your tattoo is so cool bro!—Ken finally relaxes when everyone begins to greet him, remarking how everyone is so eccentric, original, even one of them came to present his work dressed in jeans overalls. Maybe he thinks just maybe he could have a place beside you.

Later that night, you laugh beside him without shoes, as your other drunken classmates giggle painting an old canvas with their feet making a mess.

—Ready to make art, Ken?—your eyes are sparkling, his chest feels like could blast at any minute, he hadn't felt so light since so fucking long, he dips his feet on the paint jumping with a bunch of drunk students at the sound of Karma Chameleon in an old boombox.

The pink stains of paint his feet leave on the canvas are so big, that your green ones are lost, at the end of the night he saves the phone of some of the classmates so they can go out to drink, he says thanks for inviting him sadly he couldn't tell you what are his feelings for you.

Mitsuya encourages him, he will have another chance, Nahoya and Souya says the same, Inui gives him another beer to cheer him up.

However, when you go to the repair shop with swollen eyes, carrying your canvas as if is something radioactive, he looks at you with curiosity analyzing the painting.

—Do you have something to burn this shit?— the painting is a big crystal ball that reflects people looking at it like it was some kind of salvation.

—Why?—he asks, cleaning his hands to sit beside you like every day

—I did everything wrong— he looks at the painting trying to find something bad yet he doesnt find anything bad, he feels touched at the hands reaching for the object —Maybe they are right my work is mediocre at best, if I drop out of school I can search for a job that helps me to live a small life...-— he saw your face retorting to a kind of disgusted face as you scratch your hair, mediocre? mediocre? he hasn’t met anyone with such passion for their work except Mitsuya, so deciding whats best for you now he flicks your forehead

—Let’s go, you need a break— he walks outside rolling his bike —We are going for a ride...wait— he throws you a helmet and a black hoodie that resembles his old haori —You are going to need it— offering his hand so you can balance, your tummy is full of caterpillars that transform into butterflies when he puts your hands around him, the speed doesnt help, your hair even constricted on the helmet feels the breeze, after a minute you rest your head against his back.

When you see that the beach is close and the air becomes much colder thanks to the sunset, he stops

—Let’s walk on the sand, it always helps— he looks at the pier with longing, taking off his boots, he walks in little strides waiting for you when you look behind the motorcycle is so far —I came here years ago and I always come back when I feel a little lost— he looks at the sky hoping for seeing more stars that today seems to shine a little.

You want to talk more, telling him about how this place is so fitting for him, how you always associate him to water, about the crush after all these years, you burp something else —Why you always tell me all this stuff, I appreciate your trust in me but you have better friends — you feel so stupid putting a hand over your mouth, he smiles sitting in the sand as always he pats the side so you can sit beside him.

—I always think of you as one of my friends— you can’t decide what gets you so emotional, the fact he considers you a friend or how he thinks of you, your heartbeat gets erratic, wanting to burst, to confess how you are mooning for him again. —You treated me so good since preschool, I felt so bad when I didn’t return your feelings that time— he gets quiet, you know hes thinking in Emma. The sounds of the waves lull you, he coughs you smile at him sadly.

—Emma’s death will be always something that I’ll carry around my shoulders, the pleasure to have my heart broken by a woman who was a burst of sunshine in a person— he focuses on the waves that are getting close to your feet, you squeal he laughs wiping his tears.

—Thank you for bringing me here, it helps me— almost jumping trying to get warm by the movement, he rolls his eyes yet he moves his arms side by side to get warm.

—Maybe is time to get back before we freeze to death before I forget...you are doing your best maybe for those bigots is not enough and maybe a simple mechanic is not someone to criticize your work or know a damn about art I can say your works always find something to tug the heartstrings of everyone, the other day Angry cried to that old sketch you left in my desk— something in your heart pull you to hug him and something in his made him kiss your cheek.

—Fuck...Im sorry— trying to shallow the bad feeling, he tousles your hair you shriek when one of his rings got stuck in a knot —This is getting worse, oh my god im so ashamed—keeping talking as he with all the patience in the world detangles his ring

—Hey! you want to date?— he said it so surely and confident even when his finger toes are curling on the sand thanks to his anxiety, he doesnt want to carry more regrets, he knows that whatever he has with you is worthed, that he wants more afternoons buying solvents, helping you with out of the box ideas for your presentations or how you labeled his tools so you can help him, eating Chinese food sitting in old buckets as Inui tells a story, giving you water when the twins are tasting new recipes or how he says no when you are persisting in telling him he should adopt one of the cats in Chifuyu’s shop

You are so silent, he wants to say is a lie, he can almost hear Emma’s voice telling him to not chicken out, when you place your gaze on his, he can appreciate the little tears trying to escape.

—Yes!— fuck! he is happy

There’s something so eerie about this night. Ken looks at the buildings in front f the window, the sky is clear, hoping to see stars, even though he knows it is impossible in a city as bright. You are humming doing chores in the kitchen, his phone rings with Hinata’s name on it, asking if he knows something about Takemichi.

He doesn't know. He immediately texts Chifuyu. The man said he would check. The best man is supposed to have information about the groom, he texts smiling at his witty remark. Everyone in the group looks forward to the wedding.

There’s a loud crack in the air, he blinks...hum weird, something in him calls to hug you, He hid his face in your neck. “Where is Takemitchy? He doesn’t know, is obvious that the dumb man would rather die than not go to his wedding.

You brush his hair that's getting long again yet the raven locks are so soft, smooching his face he feels happy, very content with what he has made with his life, maybe he should start looking for a ring too,

Your third mistake was not paying attention to his friend because both of you have no idea that this future is being rewritten by a friend who cannot say goodbye to the other…

In 2008, Ken Ryuguji dies in a pool of blood. The last name he pronounced, is the name of the shape of love he knew, he's without his core friends, bullets marred his skin, the sky is totally black, the water pouring his body washing away the blood trying to clean his soul... giving him comfort.

Dying cold, wet, without seeing stars, last words forgotten as a lot of people reunite to fight. He never meets another form of love. He doesn't get redemption, just a sad stretcher in the back of the ambulance as a deathbed.

On the other side of the city, you are debating if you need to buy an Indian yellow oil paint for your new project, Hiromi asks you if you’re going to the party.

That's a good idea! Maybe there you can ask for Ken; Someone will have information about your crush; the blond boy with shaved sides and the dragon tattoo.

🔖@sukunasbabymama @meximorrita @notsocoolnana @aasouthteranoswife

“What are you doing?”

Baji gets no response except for the shuffling of material as you neatly fold your clothes and put them into the duffel on the bed. You don’t look at him as you reach blindly for another item of clothing.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He’s more forceful this time and he sees the tremor in your hands at his tone. He sees it and it does something to the ball of emotion that he’d been swelling inside him these past few weeks. Anger and disappointment flood him. “Are you leaving?”

Your fist tightens on the shirt in your grasp. Your shoulder hunching as he crosses the room. His hands hover over your shoulder, freezing when you flinch away from his touch. “I- I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you say. Your voice is small, soft, careful. Like you’re speaking to a wild animal and you’re afraid you might spook it. “I can’t- you’re—”

Your words are interrupted by a hiccup. A broken sound that rips from you. It unravels your resolve as though you’ve pulled on the loose thread of your sanity. You’re sobbing. Your palm trembling as you attempt to cover your mouth and hide the awful sounds leaving you.

Baji is stupefied. He has no idea what is happing right now. He reaches for you only to have you scramble out of his reach. Almost tripping over your feet in your haste. His brows furrow, as he continues to advance on you and you continue to back away.

“Angel?” He questions. “Angel, what the fuck is going on?”

He’s cornered you and you recover enough to snap. To let him hook those warm, work roughened fingers into the delicate threads of your self control and tear them apart. “You fucked her!” You scream. “You fucked her!” And your hands are slamming against Baji’s chest. The echo of each thumb as you pound at the hard muscle rings in your ear.

Someone is screaming and Baji is frozen. Muscles locked as he takes every hit. As he lets you claw and slap at him. Because he hadn’t- he hadn’t anticipated this. That you would learn about his one fuck up. That it would do something like this you. Your struggling ceases and he realizes he’s reflexively wrapped his arms around you and you’d reflexively melted into the contours of him.

You must realize it as well because with a strength not even you knew you possessed you shove him. And Baji is weak limbed and distracted so that he goes sprawling into his ass at the movement. He’s gaping. Like one of the koi at the aquarium he’d taken you to on your first date. Lips parted as he stares at you dumbly. He cannot speak but his silence is enough.

Your breathing is ragged as you redouble efforts of packing. You don’t bother folding the clothes anymore. Just chucking them into the space bag, uncaring of what the item actually is.

“It was-“ he licks his lips and just the sound of his voice sets you on edge all over again. “It was a mistake.”

Your sadness and disappointment are morphing into something ugly and violent and for one insane second you consider calling your brothers. They’d kill him. They’d kill him. They’d kill hi- but you don’t want him dead. You love him. You don’t want him dead. And you’re crying all over again because you love him.

You love the lying, cheating bastard who’d married you under cherry blossoms in spring and danced in the wet sand, in the cold rain just so you could say you’d done it. You love the lying, cheating man you’d adopted a dog with. You’d bought a house with. Planned to start a family with.

“How many times?” You ask between sobs. “How many times Keisuke?”

“Once,” he admits. “It was only once. It was a mistake,” he’s rambling. Your question has opened the floodgates for excuses. “It never happens after that. I was going to tell you but she told me not to. She said-“ he pauses again and you almost scoff at him. “She said you’d hate us. So I- I kept it and it- please don’t leave me.”

He sounds as broken as you. You can’t even look at him. You can’t even look at him. “She’s pregnant,” you announce. “Eight months. The timing’s about right. Yeah?”

Baji makes a choked noise. Like he’s drowning on air. “No!” He protests. “It’s not mine. It can’t- it can’t be-“

“It’s yourself alright,” you sniffle. “Said she hadn’t been with any other man since that night.”

“She’s lying-“

“You’re both lying pieces of shit,” you say, and you zip the duffle, reaching for your handbag on a nearby chair you shuffle around the room grabbing your jewelry and then into the adjoining bathroom to grab your toiletries. Baji remains on the floor is head in his hands.

“Please,” he says. And he sound rightfully broken. “Please don’t leave- we can- we can talk about this.”

There’s nothing to talk about. You grab the duffel and head for the door. You stop in the frame and glance at him over your shoulder. “I hope she gives you those twins you’ve always wanted.”

Why can't you hear me!?

Why can't you hear me?!

Mikey angst<3

♡A/N -Suicidal thoughts, crying, oc Mikey(personality), and manga spoilers

♡Under the cut will be the story! Enjoy

♡Also pls dm me or tell me that you wanna get tagged:)

This….

This wasn't supposed to happen…

No…

NO!

Mikey's dark impulses aren't something that can be "easily" controlled. It's a monster. Mikey doesn't want to hurt anyone, but he does..

He sees everything

Kenchin's death.

Hurting his friends.

Hurting takimichy

When he swore to protect them.

I can't move. I can't move?! Why can't I move?! No… no…. He's in control.

"T-this can't be happening.. this can't be happening!" Mikey tried looking around but it was darkness, he found a mirror and ran to it. As he stopped in front of it, he saw it. Him crying but not knowing why…. wait…..

It's behind me.

Mikey turned around to see himself, not really himself since he knows it's him..

Dark impulses

Or

The fucking demon that lives in his body

Mikey ran and hit him but it didn't move, Mikey looked at it then it moved. It grabbed Mikey's throat and threw him. "It's in my control. Don't interfere, or I'll kill that precious friend of yours♡~" it smiled insanely, making him stumble and stare at it with shocked eyes. It was so uncommon to see Mikey scared, he didn't like showing weakness.. but he can't do anything.

He hoped that he would get control again, he closed his eyes, crying. Mikey could see what the monster had done, he cried and cried having to witness his best friend since childhood dead. Even hurting his friend who's heart was gold. He thinks he deserves this pain, Mikey rarely cries because he keeps it to himself, now Mikey wants comfort from his bestfriends, friends,gang and even family.

Well….

Some are dead.

Some cut connections

Rarely some stayed.

He keeps saying he deserves this pain because of all this shit he has done. He wanted to kill himself since the dark impulse is his body. He wants to kill himself to stop all the pain, and suffering his friends had to experience because of him. He looked around and it was formed into a room, someone came in smiling.

Oh.

His brother Shinichiro, who was his older brother, draken, Emma his sister and Baji.. he smiled then realized. It's them younger, he stared at them while they played together with a younger version of himself.

Smiling…..

He's smiling…

Mikey sighed, closing his eyes, crying because a genuine smile was on all of them. Not even a fake one, he was surprised and was grateful to see this memory. It went dark, now his in a hospital where his sister died…

Emma

Mikey hates the memory and looks back but it's still the same. No matter where he looked, it's the same scene, it's like the universe is punishing him. He wanted to leave, so he stood up and ran to the door of the hospital. Opening it made him shock and fell to his knees, an event that made him break into pieces.

The funeral.

No

No

No!!

Mikey went forward and looked at the door where he came from. He opened the sliding door and his eyes met with Takimichy's. He smiled and attempted to hug Takimichy but he was pulled by him. They were outside of the house where his sister's funeral was happening.

"Takimichy! Can you help me…?" Mikey placed a hand on his friend's shoulder who's back was facing him. As the friend turned around his eyes looked dull and disappointed.

It's your fault.

Mikey then woke up in a dark room, where he was when dark impulses took over. He looked beside him and it was a knife. Mikey looked at it in disgust throwing it away but It came back and made a scar on his cheek making It bleed.

Mikey didn't feel any pain…

What's going on…..

…….

Is it asking me to die?

Mikey looked at the mirror to see himself bruised up but no pain was shown or felt. He looked at the mirror and smashed it into pieces on the floor. Big, and little shards of the mirror shattered on the floor. Some made a bruise on his foot and brushed it off. He looked up in pain, grabbing his hair and pulling it out of frustration.

He looks at the shards on the group, big shards turned into good memories while small shards or pieces were bad memories. Small shards were almost everywhere, big shards rarely can be even seen. He sighed and sat down to an area where no shards or anything were near him.

I guess..

This is my new life.

Part 2 ig: link

Tags: @ambrodias @kenmkey

arranged marriage Bonten mikey but he is goddamn cold & indifferent to reader who loves him legitimately; Uses reader’s body for pleasure only til he got her pregnant. Reader died giving birth to the child and that’s when he realized he rly loved reader. Her parting gift to him was the child :(

omggg okay so listen up...

Mikey loved the way she was sooo fucking dumb for him, the way she'd do anything just to please him, to make him like her too. She'd more than once run away from home in the middle of the night just because he called her up..

He really wasn't used to someone practically running after him. thats why he hated that idea so much he just kept turning you down over and over again, breaking your heart more than once.

it was when you turned up at his door at god knows what hour, crying your eyes out and shaking from the cold of Tokyo. You were holding something in your delicate hands, hands he loved to feel on his skin, even though he'd never admit that out loud.

"I'm pregnant, Mikey." you'd confessed that night. And he went batshit crazy over you. Accusing you of trying to "Babytrap" him, so he couldn't leave you like you knew he would. He screamed at you to "get fucking lost before i forget myself". And so you ran, ran like a person gone wild, away from all this shit, from the pain, from him.

It wasn't a couple of months later that he got a text from Draken saying "Mikey i really think there's someone you should meet..". And he agreed because he thought it was you who he was going to meet. You, who he had been searching for the last couple of months, regretting the vile words he threw at you that night.

It wasn't until he arrived at the Hospital that he realised something was terribly wrong. Ken-chin standing at a door, looking almost remorseful? sad? what the fuck was happening, Mikey thought.

A loud and shrill scream shook him. He didn't know why, the hairs on his neck standing up immediately, it was a baby. He began breathing faster, felt like there was a huge, heavy stone on his chest, stopping him from breathing normally. "Ken-chin, w-what the fuck is going on? W-what are we doing here?"

His voice was shaking, something that never happened. Draken just put an arm around his smaller friend and whispered a small "I'm so sorry Mikey. She couldn't make it.." into his hair.

What? What the fuck was he talking about? It couldn't be about you, could it? But when he looked up and saw the Doctor looking at him, with that look in his eyes... the sorrow, the pain, all of it hit at once.

He couldn't breathe, started snapping for air to fill his lungs again, the world began to spin around him, Drakens screams of "Mikey! Mikey calm down!" got quiet until he couldn't hear anything but the loud cries of his child. The child you gave him, gifted him as a final goodbye before peacefully leaving this world with an "I'll always love you, Mikey." on your lips...

So, now, almost a year later, everyone knew not to ask Mikey what happened to the Mother of his little Daughter. Last time someone asked, he went on a killing spree for three days and was only stopped by Draken finally knocking him out...

Ahh, here it is, my first ever angsty writing!! I hope you liked it. :) sorry if there are any typos, didn't proofread it :P