#porcelain wasps

[dibsonhoodie]

Instruments Creepypasta Play | Porcelain Wasps

Jeff: he can't play any instruments, but he enjoys singing. He's very good at screaming

Ben: EDM/DJing if that counts as an instrument. He got really deep into the rave scene living in the city

Jack: Piano. His mother forced him to take lessons as a child

Tim: acoustic guitar. He's not very good, Brian gave up on trying to teach him.

Brian: Guitar. He learned on an acoustic but finds the shrill of an electric guitar exhilarating

Toby: Drums. he keeps a strong rhythm, and he feels powerful with the heavy beat

Jane: Bass Guitar. She enjoys the low notes and it's fun to explore her own creativity

Extra

Zack: He was previously the lead singer of a local band, but left when he moved back to Oregon.

@prodiamond gave me the inspiration for this with their post

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #eyeless jack #hoodie #creepypasta fandom #masky #jane the killer #ben drowned #creepypasta oc #porcelain wasps #ticci toby #creepypasta headcanon

[bettercostume]

i read like 10,000 words of haaland / odegaard on a whim on the train to and from practice and then i actually looked up what odegaard looks like and it deflated the fantasy with the precision of a fart during a rimjob

#or a wasp at a christening #really i thought odegaard was the one who looks like a haunted porcelain doll #not the malevolent demon blonde child in The Hour of The Wolf

[lina-vas-dom]

И вот мне приснилось, что сердце мое не болит, Оно — колокольчик фарфоровый в желтом Китае На пагоде пестрой… висит и приветно звенит, В эмалевом небе дразня журавлиные стаи. А тихая девушка в платье из красных шелков, Где золотом вышиты осы, цветы и драконы, С поджатыми ножками смотрит без мыслей и снов, Внимательно слушая легкие, легкие звоны. /Николай Гумилёв

And so I dreamed that my heart did not ache, It's a porcelain bell in yellow China. On a colourful pagoda… hanging and tinkling, In the enamel sky teasing the crane flocks. And a quiet girl in a dress of red silks, Where wasps and flowers and dragons are embroidered in gold, with her legs tucked up, watches without a thought or a dream, Listening attentively to the light, light chimes. /Nikolai Gumilev

#русская поэзия Серебряного века

[featherandferns]

fluff for 4

4. Please, I know exactly what I'm doing.

based on true, traumatic events (content warning: spiders)

feel free to request: prompt list

not funny - prompt 4

You’re not a very fearful person. Snakes you can deal with, wasps and bees are no problem, fire and thunderstorms never bothered you much. As a child, you prided yourself on not having a fear of the dark. There was never the need for a night light by your bed. Your only weakness – the only thing that you were truly scared of – is spiders. I mean, why? Why do they have to look like that? Why do they always seemingly run towards you, instead of away? Why are they so fast and why are they always, always were you never want them to be?

Considering you are so flippant about other phobic things; you’d expect your fear of spiders to be mediocre and casual. Maybe a little shriek before attacking it at a safe distance with a broom. But no. Your phobia was debilitating. One time you found a spider in your bedroom, chilling in the corner of the room, and you slept on the sofa for a week. The only reason why you returned to your bed is because your mom demanded it.

When you wake up randomly in the night, there’s an arm weighting you down on your stomach. Grunting, blinking awake, you wonder why your body felt the need to bring you around. Then you tune into the fact that you need to pee. Sighing, you wriggle out of JJ’s hold. He sleepily mumbles something in his sleep, into the pillow, and you can’t help but smile. He’s weirdly cute when he’s asleep; lying on his front, face mushed against the cotton of the sheets.

The chateau is familiar enough to you that you don’t flick on any lights as you make your way to the bathroom. It must be nearing sunrise, as there’s that pre-sun glow starting to brighten the sky, illuminating your path somewhat as it inches through the windows that nobody ever bothers to pull the blinds on.

When you make it into the bathroom, however, you do flick on the light. Squint against it as you close the door, groaning.

“Stupid fucking bladder,” you grumble. Roll your eyes as you pull the seat down (“stupid fucking men”).

All is going as well as a late-night toilet break can go until you move to grab at the toilet roll to wipe. A burly, black, beady-eyed bastard is staring you down. Then it’s like he feels the need to perform. Runs around the loo roll several times – around and around – and you feel your stomach drop straight into the porcelain bowel. Shrieking, you shoot up, yanking up your pyjama shorts and darting away from the spider.

Wide awake, you hyperventilate as you stare at him, unable to remove your gaze. He seems to take it as a challenge. Starts climbing up the walls. Starts wandering towards you.

“JJ!” you scream. You don’t care how hysterical you sound. All you can think about is the fact that you’re essentially trapped into this tiny bathroom with a huge, fuck-off, borderline Australian spider who looks like they could speak to you in English. “JJ!”

JJ calls out your name. The door flies open and you screech again. “Jesus Christ! What is it? Are you okay?”

His eyes are wide and frantic as he scans you up and down, as if searching for an injury. There’s still a sag to his face that comes from freshly rising. A part of you longs to feel guilty, but there’s bigger fish to fry and way bigger spiders to kill.

You point a shaking finger at the wall.

“What?” JJ panics, following it, glancing around.

“The spider! Look at the fucking size of it,” you say.

JJ stares at the spider. His heaving chest begins to slow as he processes what’s going on.

“Did you seriously wake me up to deal with a fucking spider?”

“It’s huge!”

“It’s harmless!” he replies loudly, gesturing to it. It darts further up the wall and you hold back a screech. He rakes a hand through his bed head. “Jesus Christ.”

“Can you get it?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I can’t sleep knowing it’s here.”

“We’re on the pullout! That’s like three rooms away!”

“I can’t sleep knowing it’s here!” you loudly reply.

The others are probably awake now too but honestly, thank God. They should evacuate with that fucker in the house. You glare at it, as if daring it to move again.

JJ seems to be on the spider’s side, as he glares down at you, too. He mumbles cusses under his breath, complains about being dragged out of bed, as he ducks down to dig through the bathroom cupboard under the sink. Tosses things around as he searches for a cup, coming out short.

The spider seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere as it crawls along the wall, nearer to the toilet, close to the ceiling.

“JJ!”

Sighing, he gets back to his feet and glances around. Slams the toilet lid closed and stands atop of it with a grunt.

“What—”

“Please, I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says dismissively down to you.

Then turning to the wall, he begins to raise his hands. Oh no.

“Come on, little fella,” he mutters, reaching his bare fucking hands out to the spider.

You feel like throwing up.

Somehow, by some miracle, JJ clasps it in his hold. You shriek as you dart out the way, pressing yourself tightly against the wall outside the bathroom, as JJ carries the spider out the room and down the hall. He’s still talking to the bastard. You collapse against the wall with a sigh, closing your eyes. Too much adrenaline, too early in the day.

“Don’t you wanna say goodbye?”

You yelp out, eyes shooting open, to find a shit-eating grin on JJ’s face. His clasped hands are held out in front of you. You feel your lip tremble as you try and push back against the wall, aiming to put as much distance between yourself and the spider as possible.

JJ’s sniggering now as he holds his hands out nearer to your face. “Come on! Kiss him goodnight at least!”

“Stop it!” you blubber.

His humour immediately dies the moment you start to cry. “Hey! Woah, woah, it’s just a joke, alright? There’s nothing in here. Hey!”

He drops the act, not even making a show of opening his hands, instead pulling you into his chest and stroking your back reassuringly.

“M’sorry. Thought it’d be a funny joke,” JJ says meekly into your hair.

You reluctantly hug him back. “I’m not putting out for a week because of that.”

“A week? Come on, baby! It was a dumb joke!”

“Fine,” you sigh. That is a bit dramatic. “A day.”

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj drabble #jj maybank drabble #jj x reader drabble #jj maybank x reader drabble #drabbles #drabble #prompts #4 #obx #obx drabbles #outer banks #outer banks drabbles

[technicallymaximumkitty]

Niffty headcannons because I did Sir Pentious uwu

(CW for sex and smut being mentioned but nothing graphic) 

When she was alive she was tall, willowy, and had long hair, like how most people draw human fluttershy 

She lived in Japan most of her life but moved to the states when she got married to a US soldier

She was the overlord of mariticide (the act of killing one’s husband) I mean she was a housewife in the 50’s she def snapped 

She eats things she doesn't know, she has an iron stomach now

She is still an overlord technically but she never cared for titles in the first place

Alastor has an older brother like relationship with her, she’s the baby sibling, and Husk is the middle child 

Niffty loves to play house with those two (just as long as there is no mommy or daddy) Alastor is more than willing to entertain Niffty, Husk usually has to be dragged into it

She collects porcelain dolls and taxidermy stuffed animals each one has a name and tragic backstory 

She hates every and all bugs no matter what kind they are, she used to be deathly afraid of bugs but that fear morphed into hate. Now she is on a one woman’s crusade to kill them all

She is allergic to bee and wasp stings 

Her book collection is ⅓ psychological horror ⅓ hardcore smut and ⅓ picture books about animal friendships or animals with jobs 

She cuts and dyes her hair herself (how could you tell) ((the yellow part is dyed)) 

She had autism, ADHD, pica, and OCD 

She loves dogs but only the big ones, she hates any dog that can fit into a handbag only she gets to ride around in the handbag 

Her love language is that of a cat so if she likes you she is gonna leave dead animals outside your room, everyone in the hotel thanks Niffty but quickly disposes of her gifts

Oh and love bites she also hate bites but there is a difference 

Her favorite foods are strawberry cakes, oyakodon, daifuku, the cotton candy in the walls and meat on the bone (like chicken wings or t-bone steak) 

She stress cooks because she needs to do something all the time, she hates sitting still so the hotel is over run with leftovers 

She has one of those scholastic dairies with a pink heart lock and matching pen with the pink feather pom-pom she writes in every night before bed

She will ask if you have games on your phone

She doesn't have a phone or other technology because Alastor doesn't like tech but she is not against using it 

She spins around on the tips of her feet when she dances 

Whenever she goes in public she has to wear one of those children’s leash because she will wander off and get stuck in something

She likes to hide in holes and small places but gets stuck often (like getting stuck in the toilet)

She flip flops between ‘rabid goblin queen’ and “cinnamon roll angel’ frequently 

Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, and Niffty fight tooth and nail for TV time and it’s a whole 30 minutes of chaos before someone walks away with the remote 

Nifty is either going to turn on an animal documentary or hentai 

She is Ace and hates participating in sex herself but she finds the act itself quite interesting 

Once a month she will round up whoever is in the hotel and host a tea party (she and Pentious bicker on how to make tea, his tastes being western and hers being eastern) 

#hazbin hotel #headcanon #niffty #alastor #hazbin hotel husk #chaos ensues

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - Circle of Life

Jinx is a perfect little (gremlin) hostess.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"It's Fissure turmeric," Silco says. "We've a fondness."

"I can see that." Salo snatches up a glass of water. His eyes are streaming. "Most��singular." He blots his forehead with his sleeve. "My, er, compliments." His stare falls on the server behind him. "Where's my wine, boy?!"

"I'll get it!"

Jinx is already rising.  Daddy's little helper—and a thief in plain sight. If Silco isn't careful, she'll abscond with the whole carafe, and leave their party dead-sober.

Nothing bores like a sober Piltie. At least the dead ones don't talk.

Much.

Silco stills Jinx with two fingertips on her wrist.

"Sit," he says. "Finish your soup."

Jinx stops short, and sits demurely. But Silco doesn't miss the quick-draw of her finger across her throat. Not a stay of execution, but a playful shorthand: My good manners are killing me. Silco hides a smile. He’s always enjoyed their private language of give-and-take. Father and daughter, united in a common cause: stirring the pot.

The pot, tonight, is the Councilors' heads.

Sweetly, Jinx says, "How's your pudding, Councilor Salo?"

"Mnf," Salo nods, mouth full. "Delicious. What is the flavor?"

"Blackflower."

"A flower?" He swallows. "What kind?"

"It grows in caves," Jinx chirps. "Blooms every Equinox, with spines that look like teeth." She makes a hypnotic hand gesture, unfurling her tiny fingers in imitation of a spiked maw. "Their sap's lethal. But the cave-wasps use it to feed their larvae. The larvae digest it, then poop out a sweet secretion the color of blood."

"S-Secretion?"

"Yep!" Jinx beams. "It's super versatile. Boil it down and it's a sticky glaze. Ice it and it's sherbet. Add flour and it's cake." She taps her nose with a wink. "Here in Zaun, nothing's a-wasted. We recycle!"

Salo puts down his spoon. "You are joking."

"Nah. There's a whole industry. Blackflower honey. Blackflower liqueur. Blackflower gelato. Although the last bit's more entomophagy than scatology, if you catch my drift?"

"No-o...."

"Larvae, Councilor. Sweet, sweet larvae! We whip 'em into a froth, then drizzle 'em with cave-honey, like so—" She mimics a spiral with her finger, before the gesture morphs into a gun. "—blam!" Salo jerks. "The smoothest scoop of sinfulness in Zaun. Your pudding's made from the same ingredients. So's the stew. Even the vole's stuffed with 'em. That's what we call a circle of life. Am I right?"

"I see," Salo says weakly. "Most, ah, educational." He pushes the dish away. "If you'll excuse me..."

His exodus is swift. A lord ready to pledge allegiance to the porcelain god. The rest of the table marinates in silence.

"Yikes." Jinx pouts her lower-lip and blows a puff of air. Blue strands flutter off her forehead. Her eyes, unveiled, are luminous with mock-contrition. "Guess bugs are a bugbear for this crowd. You were right, Silco. Grilled scorpion would've been a bust for the entrée."

Silco smiles. A smile only Jinx can read. "Some topics, child, are better confined to cookbooks."

"And here I thought I was sharing the knowledge. Whetting the appetite. All that jazz." Her lip protrudes cheerlessly. "Boo."

#arcane league of legends #arcane #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane salo #arcane council #arcane hoskel #arcane shoola #arcane bolbok #arcane mel medarda #arcane jayce talis #mel medarda #jayce talis #snippet

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

idea for thou:

Weems x reader, R plans a date, which ends up going horridly wrong. like, so wrong, it's funny. R is crushed, but Larissa just laughs, and its all fluffy and cute at the end :)

it's the thought that counts

masterlist

larissa weems x reader

a/n - lawd, i hope this is alright, it kinda didn't turn out as well as i wanted but idk

When you woke up this morning the space in the bed beside you was empty, just an indent in the sheets and the lingering scent of rose perfume. You knew Larissa had errands to run but the lack of her still made you frown slightly; the whisper of a kiss you felt on your temple whilst half asleep wasn’t enough. 

You longed for her. You always do. Whether she’s near or far, Larissa Weems is all you need. You smiled at the mere thought of her, porcelain skin against her pillow with soft breaths creeping past her lips with her dreams and her hair falling loosely on her cheeks. 

Even after all of this time your belly still fills with a giddy warmth when you think of her, the way her touch feels and the smoothness of her voice. So you roll out of your bed with a smile, knowing just what you’re going to spend your day planning. 

Though the graciousness is much stronger on Larissa’s part, she left the unfortunate clumsiness to you and it seemed desperate to showcase itself today. Today of all days. 

Your first step was to buy her flowers, walking your way into town to find the shop closed for renovations. You didn’t let yourself be discouraged so early into your mission however, wandering into the woods where you know some wild flowers grow. Perhaps she’ll appreciate the hand picked touch.

You spotted the ones you wanted, paying little attention to your surroundings until a piercing sting flooded through your thumb. You winced at the pain with a hiss through your teeth, quickly retreating your hand away from the stem with the buzz of a wasp getting further away. 

“Ow, shit.” You muttered to yourself, noticing the swelling of your thumb already. Step two, go to the pharmacy. When you stepped out of there with the bell on the door sounding behind you your thumb had been cleaned and wrapped in a bandage for protection, not ideal but your next course of action was to buy the ingredients for a recipe you’d found online.

You weren’t the best at cooking, blame it on your impatience, so trying a recipe this complex was a stretch. But how hard could it be, right?

Some of the ingredients weren’t easy to find, leaving you wandering the aisles in annoyance. You’re sure you were peering through every single thing on every single shelf for over an hour and you’re not even sure what you bought. You constantly checked your phone, scrolling through the tediously long recipe description to make sure you had everything in your basket. 

You checked the clock when you got back home, mentally planning out your time before Larissa would return before setting to work. It was tedious. The exact reason you avoid cooking when you can; Larissa made it look easy, you’d watch her add ingredients to pans as she’d leisurely sip from a glass of red wine as though cooking was second nature. And everything she created tasted perfect. 

It felt as though there were a million steps to the recipe and the injury to your hand didn’t do much to help, you wouldn’t admit defeat though, no matter how close to tears you were. Your forehead was decorated with droplets of sweat from all the steam, the heat that would billow from the oven at each opening of the door and your clothes were splattered with ingredients. 

You truly hope the concoction on the oven shelf will be edible, especially considering how long it’d taken you. Time was running out and you still needed to lay the table in the ornate fashion you’d imagined, a table cloth draped over the surface and a candle sat in the centre. 

Nothing else can go wrong, can it? The hard part was done, you just need to wait for the timer to buzz. You set one, right?

You could’ve screamed, you almost did, instead spewing more swear words in a few minutes than you think you have your entire life. Your clumsiness will prevail, always, it’s your worst enemy just constantly waiting to rear its head. The rough swiping of a matchstick against the box sounded in the room, a near silent hiss as the flame took to the wick.You turned your back to head to the bedroom to get changed but not without an accidental tug to the tablecloth. 

A metal thump muffled by the material and an instant smoky scent whipped your head around, your eyes widened at the sight, orange flames licking at the fabric. You stumbled in your hurried steps to the kitchen, repeated mutterings of ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ along with the fury coated stomps through the apartment. 

The dishcloth was enough to pat the fire away and you sighed with relief, fingers rubbing at a tense forehead with a smudge of ash left in its wake. The heavy pounding of your heartbeat fuelled by stress and unwanted adrenaline wasn’t given time to dull before even more smoke wafted towards you.

“Fucking hell.” You grumbled, darting into the kitchen to pull oven mitts over your hands before pulling a charcoal mess out of the oven. You let it crash onto the kitchen counter with your eyes glazing over with tears when you heard the front door squeak closed, followed by the clicking of heels against wood. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“Hi.” You breathed, looking a mess with your clothes stained and a smudge of grey across your cheek. Everything about you screamed stressed and she softened at the view. 

“Hi, love. Uh - what’s going on here?” Larissa asked you, nearing where you stood with a gesture to the charred table behind you.

“I was trying to do something nice for you.” You pouted with your cheek leaning into the touch of her palm as she swiped the tear that tried to roll down your cheek. “I set the table on fire. And almost the kitchen. And I got attacked by a wasp.” You lifted your bandaged hand up for her to see and she pressed her lips together to quell a laugh. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, no. It isn’t, sweetheart.” She responded with a vehement shake of her head, though she wasn’t overly skilled at hiding her amusement. She walked towards the kitchen as a way to hide her face as she laughed. “Oh - wow.”

“It’s bad, I know.” It was a mess, sauce splashed onto the counters and cutlery strewn around haphazardly. You’d hoped the untidiness would at least be worth it with the reward of a delicious meal. The piece de resistance was the charred mess in a ceramic dish, you noticed the widening of her eyes when she saw it as well as the upwards curving of her lips she tried to conceal. 

“It’s the thought that counts.” She cooed, nudging your face up to face hers with her finger beneath your chin. “I love it. I’d honestly be more concerned if it’d gone ahead without a hitch - you are rather clumsy.”

She grinned when you finally laughed, smiling against one another when she pressed a kiss to your lips.

“How about I run us a bath? We can clean this up in the morning.” She asked you to which you instantly nodded. “And I’ll leave dinner to you. I suggest looking in the kitchen drawer for the takeaway menus.” She smirked, winking to you teasingly before making her way to the bathroom with her laughter echoing behind her. 

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x fem!reader #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #larissa weems fluff #wednesday

[kisskida]

Bleeding

-Megumi x reader/oc

tw: extreme angst, rape and non-con mentions, assault and murder

-Blood doesn't have to be weeping red liquids. We are all bleeding on each other in one way or another as we roam the earth, spending our entire lives searching for a purpose. We cry to know we are alive, and we bleed to know we are living. The tears we shed are our souls bleeding as we destroy ourselves and the blood we shed is our bodies telling us we have fought for our destruction

The darkness cannot possibly consume us all, or perhaps I used to think that way; I used to believe that. My eyes stung as lumps of dirt clung to my face, my skin rubbing raw against the isolated path. "Please, please let me just..." my muscles screamed at me as I scrambled to my knees, pleading to the heavy work boot in front of me, a leering snarl above it, belonging to an icy, sharp face twisted in rage, with a mop of dusty brown hair and cruel, narrow eyes. "Please, please no, no" I dragged my body backwards, skin shrieking as I groped around for something, anything to protect myself. Spots danced in my vision as a boot slammed into my sternum, shattering any cohesion I had left as my voice echoed hoarse screams, mocking shouts echoing back at me.

"And this happened when?" The officer in front of me looked entirely unimpressed as I sat bloodied and bruised, face filthy with dirt, tear marks leaving clean lines down my face, I cradled my wrist with the other hand, sitting on the edge of the offered chair, every part of my body cried out at the slightest touch.

The heaving in my chest made the thumping of my heart painfully aware to my aching skull and weeping joints "today, just earlier! in the back alleys! Please, please you have to believe me! please-" I reached to grab his hand, desperation evident in my tone and panic crossing my face as his thick pencil moustache twitched, beady eyes looking everywhere but me as he yanked his meaty hand back. Paperwork rustling as I clutched thin air. "Why...why would I make this up...please" I begged him, begging and begging, self-worth torn to shreds and thrown to the dogs.

"I think you need some supervision...these marks are clearly self-inflicted. That bruise around your throat has upward pressure, everyone knows strangling leaves downward pressure" Wasps buzzed in my head, droning noises drowning the rest of my thoughts as I frantically tried to explain it.

"He pinned me to the floor and was pushing up to-"

"Enough miss, officers call a nurse and-"

"He was lifting me by my throat!"

"Silence miss, officers have the nurse alert the psych ward we have-"

"Officer! Believe me! Please! I would never-"

""Shut up little girl! Sit back down and be a good girl, the hospital will come and take you to a place you can't pull any more of these stunts" He shouted at me, spittle flying everywhere as blood rushed to his face, likening him to a tomato, a bastardly one at that. The situation sunk in and the blood rushed from my face, I must have resembled a ghost as my bloodshot eyes began to weep again and my skin coloured the same as porcelain. The world was silent as the droning consumed all, blurring scenes flashing before me as hands grabbed me, pulling me up stairs, down stairs, between streets. My body swayed and my heart was thumping in my chest; one pump, two pump, three pump, four. One step, two step, three step, four. 

It was cold outside. It was grey outside. It was silent outside. The sun was  gone, hidden away from me and in hiding it had taken all comfort from my heart. The ache in my bones for the warmth and peace of basking in the sunshine was a ball and chain holding me to the ground, rooting me in place as the hands yanked on me again; I was not moving until the sun came out.

Inside the van was…odd. There were little scrapes where nails had scrabbled, scrambling to escape. Ropes on the sides, attached to hefty rings that you couldn’t pull down. It wasn’t as dark as I expected it to be either, for a van, it was despicably bright and hauntingly empty of anything but the driver's seat and a lone cushion. White walls and a white floor, bars between the driver and myself, I tried to rationalise the situation, to understand this from another perspective. If I was a nurse and this body the patient, how would I make her tell the story?

Okay, I started by asking her what had happened, how she had come to have such injuries. The story was harsh, the story was brutal and I fought to remain impartial as tears flooded her cheeks and she began to shake. Did she call for help, I asked her what she tried to do once she was cornered, did she even try, did she perhaps not do enough. But she did, screaming and crying her story to me until I could no longer stay outside it and I collapsed into myself. Curling in a fetal position as my lungs contracted, squeezing all the air out; I was wheezing and my nails scraped lines into my skin as I tore at the fabric on my chest, air was escaping me and my throat constricted, unwilling to cooperate, unwilling to save this fruitless life of mine.

I now found out the purpose of those ropes as my arms were strung across the van, holding my body upright and forcing them away from me. No crown of thorns lay on my head as the sins of my brutalizer became the suffering of my own. “Please” I croaked, the words scraping out hoarse, forced and shaky “Please let me die” No energy left to thrash and no energy left to scream, so clearly no energy left to persuade, to barter for the right to my own life, and the loss of it.

The sun was still away, gloomy and reclusive as I was walked into the building. Eerily empty again, stark white coating every surface and all furniture bolted to the floor, no shade darker than silver and no noise louder than a whisper. The glass was almost as thick as my arm, no chance to break it and no chance to escape it.

“Why are you dragging her like that? Can she not walk?” The voice was gentle, cold but refreshingly so in this silence.

“She's been…difficult”

“Uncooperative”

“We were told she has a difficult nature and needs strict watch”

A frown appeared on this stranger's face, his delicate face contorted with confusion “She’s so injured and you’re still rough handling her? I see no resistance from her even as you’re standing still”

“Look, son. We follow instructions from the police captain and he’s told us to be strict with her.” The guarding officer stepped in my line of sight.

“Please” I whispered, life returning to my limbs as I tried to pull myself free, to stand on my own “Let me go, I didn’t do this, please” I pulled one arm free from a nurse and tried to shake the other loose as I strained to have the stranger in my vision again. He was a beautiful contrast to the white void, dark hair, dark clothes and abyssal, dark eyes. 

“Let her go, I’ll take her to an empty room. I was visiting Geto to check on him since the incident but he’s lost it and kicked me out.”  Before anyone else could react he was between my quivering form and the guard.

His hands were indescribably soft as he led me through dark halls, no windows, only flickering greenish lights lending the halls an even eerier glow than the lonely hall. The bed in my room was somewhat soft, comfortably so but the stark white contrast from the glimpse of the real world outside the window to the little box room was depressing.

“You know…I didn’t do anything to end up here.”

“You don’t look like you would”

“They didn’t believe me because he was smart”

“Smart men get away with more than they ever should”

The micro-conversation was soothing as I sat and stared at the clouds, bubbly shapes rumbling around behind the loose wispy scraps drifting emptily through space. Shards of sunlight peeked out from the lumpy mountain like clouds but the sun itself never showed. Not even as the clouds darkened, the baby blue deepening through cerulean and turquoise before it tainted red and purple, the clouds mimicking their golden sun before they were shrouded in the darkness that was night. Engulfed in the loneliness as the cold moon cast her gaze down to me.

“I hate the moon” 

“Why?”

“Because it gets dark and cold and-”

“Don’t look down or away, finish your sentence”

His voice was unreasonably calming and gentle as he lifted my chin to look at him “That’s when those smart men get away with it all” I knew I was right, because that’s what always happened. In the dark of night, in side-alleys or sometimes even in main streets their boots would strike me. Their hands would grab at me and I just prayed the sun would rise again.

“I hate the sun”

It was my turn to look at him in surprise, what reason could you possibly have to hate the sun? It was full of warmth and provided life to everything around it, smart men didn’t dare act up when the sun was out. 

“Why?”

“People just pretend, they put on a fake self to present to society”

“And when the moon rises they’re real?”

“Exactly”

It was a foreign concept to me and I couldn’t understand a thing he was saying about the moon. It was a cold and lifeless piece of rock, the sun burnt bright and beautiful to provide for us. I sat there, staring at the moon through the thick glass, trying to see how he did, to walk in his shoes and understand his perspective. It was a cold rock with a little halo because it couldn’t shine on its own, it relied on the sun to give it light. The sun burnt so bright that even in the depths of night it still reached us through the moon, though it burned so aggressively it was burning itself out, still it continued to provide.

“I’m leaving now”

I flinched away as he reached out to me, shying away from contact “Sorry” I moved back to where I had been, letting him gently pet the top of my head

“You apologise too much, I’ll come back tomorrow. Go to sleep”

It felt lonely without him, the moon had almost been inviting, almost comfortable but as the door clicked shut, a tremor ran down my spine and goosebumps prickled on my skin. No amount of tossing and turning lent me warmth, the threadbare blankets I had piled on barely had any weight. I felt naked and disturbed under the watchful gaze of the moon, a chilling eye unrelenting and unforgiving no matter how I tossed or turned I could not escape.

The whine of the rusty hinges startled me upright, bracing myself in a defensive tuck, clutching blankets around me. The moon was gone now and the sun beginning to warm me but it was too early for visitors, I knew that much. “Who…who’s there” I couldn’t look, I couldn’t do that to myself as I called out to the figure, dark and hulking; not my boy from last night. 

Since when was he my boy? When did I use possessive nouns? I didn’t know his name either.

“Stay quiet missy and it’ll be fine” 

“No!” I screamed, but the walls were sound proof; so silent I became. Just enduring, I didn’t open my eyes, not once as tears as silent as I was, fell down my cheeks. It was silent in the room but in a very loud way as every creak of the bed and every rustle of the sheets tried to drag me out of my mind, pull me from my isolation. As his skin ran over mine, everywhere we touched I was burning up, a fearsome heat that made my tears flood faster. The sunlight burned my skin as it reached out, whether it wanted to help me or hurt me, I couldn’t tell but it was too bright and it burned. The same droning wasps were invading my skull and the noise would not go away, the noise was my comfort as he touched me in places untouched and ways I wanted to scream at. I longed for the cold and cruel darkness who didn’t pretend to hug me and didn’t soothe my nightmares.

He found me sitting behind the bed, out of reach from the sun, with blankets wrapped around my body and covering every inch of exposed skin.

“The sun is out”

I was silent.

“Did you sleep?”

Silence.

“Alright”

I recoiled as I felt him tug my blankets away from my face, sitting next to me. “I can wait as long as you need” the hushed tick, tick, ticking of the clock gave comfort in routine as I drummed my fingers against the floor with every ticking second; every minute spent silent was a minute more I had held myself together. I was proud of my resilience but the walls I built were becoming the prison that held me as comfort sat not even a metre away but I was unable to reach out, throat tightening every time I so much as aimed a glance at him. 

“Your name”

“You don’t know it?”

“You never told me”

I hadn’t, it was true but I assumed like everyone else he would simply call me girl, miss or whatever name the police had put on my report.

“What should my name be then?”

I faced him for the first time today, ignoring the shooting pain up my spine and the turmoil thrashing about in my stomach that made me want to heave and retch until my body was empty of anything and everything.

“Luna, you should be Luna”

I hadn’t expected a response.

“Your name?”

“Fushiguro, Megumi”

“Megumi”

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say it”

His hand gently caressed mine as we sat, side by side, silent as the other but not silent in a loud way and not silent in a scary way. Silent in the way the forest is silent even as the day changes, silent in the way the ocean is silent even when the tides change, silent in the way that everything would be alright. The threadbare fabric of the blankets piled upon me felt hot, far hotter than they had last night against the cold moon and far more intrusive than they had last night as I cried. Sickened with disgust I flung the blankets off me and wrapped my arms across the scrapes on my body, trenches dug with my own nails as I silenced my screams.

“Who did this to you?” His face flashed dark, the calm and cold personality that had comforted me was now frigid and filled with venom “I’ll kill them”. His hands were still so gentle holding mine, even as he gently caressed my face.

“I didn’t look. I couldn’t make myself look”

“When”

“I’m sorry” my voice scratched at my throat, a lump forming as I tried to tell him more “the sun was up. I was wrong, I’m sorry” I threw myself into his arms, his cool skin soothing the flush that rose to my skin and made me feel like I had walked into the flames of hell. My sobs wracked my body as I was held, trembling, shaking and crying in his arms. The only other noise was the soft rustle as he combed his hand through my hair and rubbed my back, just between my shoulders. His hands never fell below my shoulders, like he was aware of the damage done and how fragile I was.

Da-dum, da-dum. Da-dum, da-dum. I rested my head on his chest, letting the rhythmic beating overwhelm the droning in my head, the wasps had woken up and begun to move but like a lullaby it soothed them, back to their slumber

“You did nothing wrong, okay? You are a victim” his voice was soft, so soft I wouldn’t have caught his words if the wasps hadn’t been silenced only moments before. “I never want anyone else to go through this. My dads have been in such a situation and now I’m down to one, permanently locked in his room. Not again, not on my watch” So he could relate my experience to someone else close to him, all anxieties soothed as I understood his motive, the reasons he held me so close and the reason he held so tight.

“I’m hungry”

“You haven’t been given food?” He let go of me, standing and scanning the room for something. “Lets go, I’ll take you to the kitchen and have them make whatever you’re craving”

I accepted his outstretched hand and trailed him like a duckling would its mother, all the way down to the main hall and then some more until we reached a place illuminated only by electric lights. No windows here. Keeping my body sheltered behind his he strode forward to the head chef, recognisable by the toque standing tall on his head as his peers moved around with just hair nets.

“She hasn’t been given food in almost two days, what are you doing if not your job?” Though his tone wasn’t abrasive, it was clear megumi was angry and his anger was clearly directed. “Luna, what do you want to eat?” he gently cupped my face, his tone doing a 180° as not to scare me. 

“Rice…sushi and rice” I nuzzled into his hand, meekly asking for my favourite foods.

“You heard her”

“Indeed we did, get to work boys! Get this girl the best sushi of her life or I’ll have you reassigned to clean the toilets!” The chef was boisterous, nothing like his stern expression had suggested earlier, he was rather friendly, chattering with Megumi as the other chefs worked. Megumi squeezed my hand as he moved out of my direct line of sight, letting me see the bustle in the kitchen.

“Was it any of these men?” he whispered softly to me, leaning down slightly so as not to arouse suspicion among the co-workers who placed their trust in each other on a daily basis.

I shook my head, no the man had smelled. The kitchen was not a place for a foul smelling, sweaty hulking man to work. “No…the smell is distinctive”

“The smell? So you can identify by smell?” He ruffled my hair affectionately, accepting the large bowl of sashimi, rice and little sushi rolls from a chef and leading me away. “That’s good, we have a lead, a clue. Good girl” the praise would have made me uncomfortable if another man had said it, instead little butterflies rustled in my stomach and a smile twitched on my lips.

The rest of the day was spent roaming the building. For a psychiatric hospital it was extremely quiet and empty, the air conditioning ran full blast in the hallways, making it resemble the Antarctic, an icy desolate desert. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging myself to try and preserve at least a little bit of warmth, the scrappy gown they had dressed me in was okay to sleep in as it was light and it was okay in the sun because it was warm but roaming these halls I could feel every hair on my body standing on end as goosebumps raised on my shivering skin. 

“Don’t suffer in silence” A warm hoodie was dragged down over my head, smelling heavily like the boy next to me “If you’re cold, just say something” His grey hoodie hung loosely on my frame, squaring my shoulders so it fit better against me.

“Other than being long, it fits pretty well on you. You’ve got more muscle than me at least” he smiled down at me, petting my hair affectionately and adjusting the hoodie on my body so it sat snug rather than scrunched and awkward. I nuzzled into the hood, taking comfort in the warmth and smell.

“Won’t you be cold now” I looked up at him, fiddling with the sleeves.

“I have a long sleeve shirt on, and my clothes are better quality than those dodgy gowns” He took my hand and tugged me along further down the hall.

“Megumi”

“Yes Luna?”

“I just wanted to say it”

He laughed, for the first time since meeting, and it was a beautiful sound. A beautiful sound that captivated me and drew me closer to him. “You do this adorable thing when you’re talking to me. You tilt your head like a puppy might when it smells a treat.” once again he ruffled my hair “I can’t help just wanting to touch you, to hold you and pet you like I might a dog or cat”

“I can’t help it” a small pout formed on my lips as he tugged me around the corner and into a stairwell leading upwards.

“I’ll show you my secret but you have to promise not to come here without me” His face was stern now, and I nodded

“Pinky promise, sworn to secrecy” I held out my pinky finger, letting him interlock his with mine.

“Alright then” he popped the lock on the heavy wooden doors, forcing them open with his full body weight.

The evening was beautiful. The sun had begun to set and the sky was a kaleidoscope of colours and the clouds an array of shapes. The pale blue of midday was weeping into several hues of violet, indigo and lavender whilst the clouds had taken it upon themselves to defy the colour spectrum with vermillion shades threading between crimson and gold, speckling stars resembled diamonds upon a watercolour canvas with sprays of blood littering the delicate painting.

“Its beautiful”

“Wait until it gets dark”

And so we sat there as the reds, purples and gold sunk beyond the horizon and the omnipresent gaze of the moon became unmissable and the diamonds multiplied by the thousands, the millions of billions even. They shattered the darkness and gave the world a gentle glow, not even the moon and her shimmering halo could compare to the billions of stars spread as far as the eye could see, and even farther.

“Oh”

“Oh indeed” his arm snaked around my shoulders, just holding me gently against him. I nestled against his warmth and hummed a contented approval as he combed his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp with nimble and cool fingers.

“Not even two days and I already just…feel like I can trust you” I snuggled into him, craving the feel of his skin and the sound of his heartbeat

“It’s like we’re bleeding on each other, the trauma we’ve been through and we’re trying our best to stitch each other up” He pulled me tight to his chest, murmuring against the top of my head “I feel like I’ve known you for a thousand lifetimes and it’s been us in every one”

“Do you think we’re this tragic in every lifetime?” a thousand stars shimmered in his eyes, forming galaxies of their own and I wished I could burn this memory into my brain, sear it onto the back of my eyes.

“I think we might be” His eyes never left mine, even as the reddish, rusted light flicked on and cast us into a crimson light. Glazing my eyes the same vermillion as the sky hours earlier. “It almost looks like there are roses in your eyes, the stars and light have combined in such a way”

“Your eyes have formed galaxies of ebony and indigo” I reached up for his face, cupping his cheek “You’re warm” I held onto him in that moment like a sailor might hold onto driftwood in a shipwreck, like a small child clinging to the hopes and dreams that their heroes inspire.

“The moon bids us to sleep Luna” He kissed the top of my head and guided me back to my room. “The moon will watch over you for me, until tomorrow” and just like that he had melted into the darkness and beyond my reach.

The night wore long as I clutched my blankets to me, hyper-aware and on high alert as the memories of yesterday morning burned fresh in my mind. I couldn’t sleep with that constant fear breathing down my spine; the pungent smell of his body on mine and his gravelly, domineering voice as he rough handled me. My tongue darted out, catching the little salty teardrops from my weeping eyes, my chest heaving as air got harder to suck in, my breaths shorter and sharper. 

The sun was an unwelcome sight as it heated my flushed skin and invaded the darkness I had come to love. The blinding rays forced me out of bed to try and hang a blanket over the window, which failed. I almost felt feverish as I stumbled back to my bed, headache pounding in my skull and a dry thirst aching in my throat with every breath I took. The maternal comfort I found in the daytime had vanished with yesterday, left was an eternal yearning for darkness, the love under the moonlit sky. I heaped all the blankets I could find onto the floor, alongside my pillows to create a little nest where the sunlight didn't directly reach

The whine of the rusty hinges startled me upright, recoiling back from my comfortable nest on the floor until my back hit the wall. I grabbed the closest blanket to me and hugged it to my body as my muscles seized, tension from the fear overriding my logical thoughts.

“Whoa, easy Luna…its me”

I knew that voice, my lower lip trembled as I tossed the blanket aside and scrambled towards him, throwing myself into his arms. Breathing in his scent, revelling in the cool comfort only he could provide.

“Megumi…” my voice was muffled as I buried my head in the hood of his jacket, up around his neck. The blessed darkness it provided soothed me from the sun burning against my back, the hot and cold flashes felt insignificant when I was in his arms as all my worries melted away.

“Luna! You’re sick, what are you doing up!” He scooped his arms under my legs, hoisting me into his arms and carrying me bridal style out to the hallway “I’m taking you to a room where there are curtains, you need a cool dark environment to get a good rest”

It felt good to be looked after and I couldn’t help relaxing in his arms, my subconscious trusted him far more than I must have believed as I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled him affectionately. “I hate the sun, it's too bright…and hot, it's so hot” I murmured as he gently laid me on another, empty, bed.

“Hush, you need rest.” He caressed my face, gently brushing my hair from my face and placing a soft kiss on my forehead. As he went to stand up I grabbed his hand

“No…stay”

“Alright, alright then. Tell me, you suddenly hate the sun when you loved it just two days ago?”

“I thought the sun could protect me from the dark side of humanity but it doesn't do much” I let out a content sigh as his hand gently stroked my hair. “The sun is cruel, it burns up everything with no remorse. The moon is gentle and kind” I reached a hand for his face.

“The sun is gentle, it gives us light and warmth. All we need to grow and survive is provided by the sun” he grabbed my hand, holding it to his cheek and humming with contentment just as I had done . “The moon is gentle but it doesn’t give us much”

“We swapped. You like the sun over the moon now and I like the moon over the sun” I laughed, rolling onto my side and sitting up, witnessing his gentle smile from the best angle, right in front of him.

The day flew by with laughter and smiles as we talked about all the insignificant things in the world, sharing stories that you might believe crazy if we didn’t have the scars to prove them. I was still weak and feverish even as he tended to me, gentle as a gardener with his brand new flower bed, however weak I was he still looked at me the way a wolf looks at the moon, a tender affection ever present in his navy eyes.

“Did I ever tell you how much your eyes look like an abyss?” I voiced my musings out loud as I lay in admiration of him.

“You might have once or twice” my admiration was returned in his kind expression.

“Good. They’re like an eternal abyss but still so much deeper, like the universe itself, filled with galaxies and stars but ultimately an intangible cosmos of mystery and excitement”

“You can have them if you really like them so much” he poked my cheek “I really can’t stand how dark and dull they are. Unlike your eyes, glowing gold like the rising sun”

“Perhaps I’ll take you up on that offer” I threw a pillow at his face and yanked him down while his vision was obscured.

“If you wanted cuddles, you just needed to say” he snuggled up to me, swinging his legs up and tangling them with mine, resting my head on his chest and holding me tight. The steady rhythm of his breathing was a lullaby to the discord in my head and I settled into a state of serenity, a tranquillity I haven't felt since before the attack. My heartbeat settled into a duet with his, each beat syncing together as the waves synchronised themselves to the quiet after the storm.

“Maybe we aren’t as tragic in this life. Maybe all our lives could be this gentle”

“If all our lives were this serene, I would ask for nothing else”

The rhythmic motions of him finger combing my hair combined with his steady heartbeat and gentle, deep breaths resonated his soul with mine. Every living being resonates on a unique harmony but for now, we shared a note; soundwaves connected on the same frequency.

“Then let's pray to whatever gods exist, that we get our happy ending” I snuggled as close to him as I could, I wanted to exist as one entity with him, one being, one body and one soul.

I felt his smile against the top of my head “then please gods, let us have each other”

“I hate that word”

“Who said the word please that made you hate it so much?”

“I did”

The silence ensuing wasn’t one of discomfort though nor was it comfortable. I felt a small tear fall onto my face. “You deserve the world Luna, a world without any of this violence. Through the stars has your kindness bled through to me and through the moon, I hope mine can reach you”

“We don’t always get what we deserve Megumi” I kissed his jaw and rolled away from him, knowing if I saw him cry, I would start crying too. His hands softly kneaded my shoulders, massaging the tension.

“I have to go early today Luna. I came in early to make sure your morning didn’t repeat yesterday but I can’t stay till nightfall with you” he placed a soft kiss on the back of my neck “I’ll inform staff that I’ve moved you. My dad is two rooms down from you now as well, if you wanted to make a friend. Though he’s not in any state to socialise.”

“What’s his name?” I rolled back over to face him.

“Geto, Suguru Geto.” He placed another gentle kiss, this one on my cheek, before standing up. “I’ll get you some food before I go”

He came back after a few minutes with a large sandwich, accompanied by some vegetables, a fork and knife for cutlery. “Thanks Megumi” I placed the tray on the nightstand and sat up to hug him.

“Be a good girl until I see you again tomorrow, I’ll leave this here in your care” he slid his hoodie off and tossed it into my lap.

And then he was gone, the darkness of the room was still comforting but it just felt colder and lonelier without Megumi, the reason I loved the darkness so much. My eyelids were heavy as I lay staring at the ceiling, hot and cold flashes taking me through paranoid delusions and trippy dreams where everything was twisted and sickly. I clung to the hoodie like a drowning sailor to a piece of driftwood, it was a liferaft in the stormy seas that tossed me around and brutalised my mind.

I heard movements in the hallway and struggled to pull myself to a sitting position, a curious face with dark, narrow eyes and silky black hair, let loose down his back, watched me from my doorway. “Geto?” My throat rasped as I spoke, dehydration clearly getting the better of me.

“You’re Megumi’s girlfriend right?” He began to step through the doorway when a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Another man appeared beside him, a mop of unruly white hair and unnaturally bright blue eyes decorated his features. 

“Sorry for disturbing you, just came to check on my husband” He pulled Geto away and I was left all alone with my thoughts again. That would be his other dad, they looked alike at least, though polar opposites in personality and colour palette. They had been a nice break from the darkness. As much as I enjoyed the dark, I couldn't help missing the warmth and light the sun brought; it was a struggle to get up and open the curtains and I almost quit twice but the moment the light hit my face, it was worth it.

I cuddled close to the hoodie, cutting a piece of the sandwich from earlier to quench my hunger and stabilise myself as my body swayed with fatigue. Megumi’s smell filled my senses, it reminded me of a forest in a storm, the fresh and energetic scent while the atmosphere weighed heavily with the weight of the electrifying rage it was bringing from the heavens to earth. At the same time it brought memories of the heartwarming moments shared between those I had been close with, laughter and smiles in an untouchable moment of kinship.

I didn’t bother to glance up as the hinges on the door squealed again, assuming it was just Geto being curious. “What’s up?” I had my back to the door as I basked in the sunlight, watching a butterfly flit past, bright and blue. I furrowed my brow as silence met my question, a low chuckle sounded and my body stilled. A pungent smell invaded my nose and I spun, grabbing the wall to steady myself, my head spun and memories violently tore through my mind, reeling from the horror associated.

“You seem much better” his voice was rough, aggressive and almost mocking.

“Get away…get away!” I flung a half drunk glass of water at him as he approached me, steady and smooth stride, confident in himself. “Stop! Please…don’t…please no, get away” I fell to the floor sobbing, collapsed in on myself as I struggled to suck in breath, the oxygen escaping me.

“Be quiet little missy or we’ll get-” a boot slammed into my shoulder, tossing me across the room “-caught” I let out a terrified scream, slamming my fists against him as he grabbed me and threw me onto the bed. His sweaty palm covered my mouth and I thrashed desperately, my limbs were heavy and I could barely land a solid blow; even when I did, he was unfazed.

Tears rolled down my face and into my hair as I squirmed, energy draining at a rapid speed. Sobs wracked my body and my muffled wails filled the air as he straddled me, his other hand undressing me with practised ease. I tried to get a closer look at his face, for Megumi, if I could help Megumi identify the man, I could get away, but tears kept flooding my eyes and everything was blurred. I dug my nails helplessly into the man’s arms and wrists, scraping and scratching, begging and pleading for him to stop. His leering grin watched over my vulnerable body as I frantically tried to save myself. “I’ll wait little miss. It's more fun when you’re still and if you misbehave, I’ll ruin your pretty little face so bad nobody will ever recognise you again”.

My voice grew hoarse and I could no longer wail and scream for help, I still whimpered and whined but my efforts were pitiful as the fever took its toll on my body and I lay unmoving, shaking in my skin perhaps but no more could I struggle “please…stop” my voice was brittle and shaky as I let out one more desperate plead for mercy, I put my hands to my face, biting down onto my arm to stop myself from crying out. His hands burned against my skin as they ran rampant all across my body. I couldn’t stop myself from screaming and thrashing as he slid between my legs, malicious intentions clearly communicated by his iron grip on my hips.

I flung my arm out, barely noticing as my knuckles slammed into the side table, fumbling for something, anything to end my misery. I felt the wooden handle of the knife on my plate, gripping it tightly “Let go of me!” I was screaming again and thrashing, though I could barely make out my own hysterical words. The sun had vanished from the sky and I saw the moon, regal and comforting in her beauty, offering her hand to take me away. His heavy hand grabbed at my wrist but my energy was renewed as I tucked my arm back close to me, slashing the blade across his face. I laughed maniacally as he reeled backwards, clutching his face but my relief was short lived as those sweaty, heavy hands redirected their iron grip to my arms. He caught my wrist mid slash and aimed the blade for my chest.

“I’ll fucking get you for that bitch” he spat globules of blood at me as he struggled to form words properly with his sliced up face. I couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling in my chest as he pushed the blade closer and closer to my heart. It was like ice on my skin as the tip pressed into me, blood welling up as my hand shook with the force he was applying. “Now die” my arm gave out and the blade sheathed itself in me, all the way down to the handle. 

My laughter had turned to screams again and I cried for help “Please no!” I could feel my heart tearing itself to ribbons on the jagged piece of metal “Megumi! Megumi! Help me! Someone please!”  blood bubbled up in my throat as my frantic heart only shredded itself. The crimson liquid seeping down my bare skin and staining the fresh sheets beneath me. My vision faded to black and my last thoughts were of Megumi’s sweet face. I hoped he wouldn’t cry at my death but I knew better, in our next life perhaps we could be destined for a gentler fate and a sweeter love.

A sharp pain twisted Megumi’s chest as he lay reading on the couch at home. His dad had come home not long ago, saying he saw Luna and Geto wanted to meet her. “Gojo-” he called out for his dad, worried he might be having a heart attack.

“You look pale Megumi, is everything alright” his voice sounded from the next room over

“My chest hurts can we-” the phone rang, interrupting him

“Megumi, it’s about Luna” Gojo’s face was solemn as he handed him the phone. 

The silence was heavy as he took it, dreading what might be said next. “What’s wrong with Luna” he demanded into the phone, courtesy be damned, they wouldn’t ring him if nothing was wrong.

“Megumi, there's been an incident. It seems she attacked a staff member and then took her own life with the blade you gave her. We’d like you to come to the hospital to give us your statement on this.”

“Bullshit! Luna would never!” he hurled the phone against the floor, shattering it on the ground and watching the screen go blank. His mind was thrown into turmoil as he felt his cheeks dampen, tears flooding them. His body trembled and his chest heaved as he grabbed the nearest thing and flung it against the wall, watching it shatter like the phone had. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck” he kicked the coffee table onto its side, breaking several mugs. Shards of glass covered the living room as he sank to his knees, desperately wiping his eyes as he struggled to breathe. He didn’t even register the sharp pain in his knees as the debris sliced into his skin. “no…”

“Megumi! What happened!”

“I’m going to the hospital” He shook off his dad’s worried look, slapping the concerned hand away as he ran between rooms, grabbing his keys and racing off. The laws didn’t matter to him as his wheels screeched on the road, foot pressing the accelerator to the floor. His speed climbed 50, 100, 150, 200, until he reached the hospital. Time nor space seemed to exist as he sprinted through the building, crashing into several walls in his haste around corners.

“Let me in” he screamed at the staff as they tried to bar him from her room. He took a deep breath, stilling his frantic body “Let me in while I’m asking nicely” his tone was murderous as he glared at them, abyssal eyes promising their demise if they refused him.

The murderous calm fled his body as he saw a knife buried in her chest, her clothes discarded beneath her, bare body on display for the world. There were shards of glass and ceramic from the plate and cup shattered on the floor and the side table had been knocked out of place. Her expression was gentle in death, she looked more peaceful than he’d ever seen her while alive. “This was clearly a murder. Look at the struggle, the way her body is and the downward angle on the blade” he tried to keep a tremor out of his voice as he observed the way her body was. “Where is the man who did this”

“He’s a victim in protective custody sir, you can’t-”

“My father is the police commissioner, I damn well can!” He almost felt bad for the poor girl he shouted at but he would bar nothing in his drive for justice. If he could not get her justice while living, he sure as hell would get her justice after death.

“Well if it isn’t the little police boy” the man smirked at him, a slimy grin accompanied by stitches across his face from a jagged knife wound. Blood matted his dusty brown hair and his narrow, cruel eyes leered menacingly at Megumi.

“You bastard. Handcuff this man” He turned to face the investigating officers, stony resolute now set in, the hysteria gone and in its place, a bloodthirsty need for revenge. He was obeyed instantly for fear of his father now that he’d made it clear who he was, the whole hospital staff snapped into action alongside the officers.

“Megumi?” The gentle voice of Geto broke him from his murderous glare and he barely had time to turn before he was wrapped in a tight hug “Don’t speak, cry” cool hands hugged his head tight to the mans chest and rubbed soothing circles on his back as the reality set in and sobs began to wrack his body. “Easy son, I’m here for you” he collapsed into his fathers arms, clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly in his fists, struggling to ground himself in reality as the world around him blurred, time flew by as he stood sobbing into Geto’s arms. People came and went, their words sounding foreign to his grief obstructed senses. Many hands patted his back, some ruffled his hair but he was only aware of the thumping of his own heartbeat and the gentle breathing of Geto, still holding him close.

“She…she-” his voice broke as his chest heaved and he struggled to even find words, his head thumped with a migraine and everything felt slightly surreal as Geto stepped back to let Gojo comfort his son.

“He’ll never leave prison, you got justice for her megumi, its okay.” he rested his hand in the mop of dark hair, bright blue eyes gentle with reassurance. Megumi trained his eyes to the floor as they left the building, Geto gave him a soft hug goodbye but he barely registered it as the flashing lights obscured the serenity of the moon, red and blue filling his vision. The drive home was silent, the normally pearly moon hung crimson between the stars, clearly mourning as he did. “A blood moon, happens once in a lifetime”

“Like roses blooming on her surface” he clutched his heart as the dull ache throbbed, a hole where her soul had fit, right alongside his. Two puzzle pieces meant to join now forever alone, on opposite shores of the river styx.

#megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #angst #rape/non con elements #murder #assault #tw sex assault #jjk fluff #megumi comfort #stars x moon #psych ward #im not paying for therapy #Spotify #through the stars did your kindness bleed #its me kida what did you expect

[itconsumesyou]

Tagged by @dandysnob to post 13 songs I've been listening to lately. Thank you so much! 💙

Porcelain - Motionless in White

The End of Love - Florence + the Machine

Sanity (demo) - Paramore

Jaded - Spiritbox

Brick - From Ashes to New

Granite - Sleep Token

Wasp - Motionless in White feat. Dessa Poljak

In the End - Black Veil Brides

Respite on the Spitalfields - Ghost

The Void - Spiritbox

Take Me Back to Eden - Sleep Token

Just Pretend - Bad Omens

Funeral Derangements - Ice Nine Kills

no pressure tags: @ignorancelive @userparamore @hidekomoon @haylewilliams @blackllghtburns @iamnotawomanimagod @wonderlandacoustic @taylorisapuppy @heroeddiemunson @fgbgfm @melodramaswift

#tag game

[dreamsofalifeold]

((Beauty and the Beast au where Shy's the Beast. Cursed with deer legs, wasp wings and eyes, cracking and flaking porcelain skin and long narrow clawed hands, she's miserable and constantly frightened of being discovered.))

#out of the grave (ooc) #cryptie shut up (mun speaks)

[dibsonhoodie]

Expanding on my Porcelain Wasps AU

Jackson Itō | Eyeless Jack

He/him | 28

¤ Born and raised in Japan but moved to America for college. Half Japanese on his mother's side. Father was European but left before he was born.

¤ Transgender (ftm) and bisexual

¤ He's only out to Brian and Jeff. Nobody else knows and he plans to keep it that way

¤ He has a really thick accent but only speaks English. Japanese makes him homesick

¤ He can also speak French and some German

¤ 5'8"

¤ Works at the hardware store in town but doesn't know the different between a flathead and a Phillips screwdriver. The owner thought he was pretty and hoped he would bring in customers (he did).

¤ He's the only one in the house who has his own room. Tim and Brian share one and Toby and Jeff have the basement together.

¤ He doesn't get along with Jeff. They have a longer history than Jack does with any of the others and it's not a good history

¤ Tried to date Brian a few times but it never worked out because Brian realized he wasn't into men in the end. They're still close friends though

¤ He has upper ectopic canines that he calls his vampire fangs. Jeff calls them tusks

¤ He has a lot of piercings. Mostly done himself

¤ Jeff gave him a tattoo that's been unfinished for four years. It's a sea urchin on his left hip. It's the only one he has

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #eyeless jack #hoodie #marble hornets #masky #slenderman #porcelain wasps #phobos posting #ticci toby #creepypasta hcs

[ask-comfortclawsau-ew]

What is your guy's biggest fear?

Tom - "Confrontation" *Squeak*

Edd - "Mine is Bees or Wasps, but Tord does have a Point" *Meow Meow Mrroow"

Matt - Mine is Dolls, but only the Porcelain ones they just have those... ehh- eyes.

Art Drawn by - @cheaplord-p3

#eddsworld #eddsworld au #eddsworld ask #eddsworld ask blog #eddsworld edd #eddsworld tord #edd

[fanficshiddles]

THE NEW CHAPTER OF "SEDUCTIVELY DESTRUCTIVE" MADE ME A MESS.

YOU CAN'T PUT THE LYRICS OF "PORCELAIN" AND "WASP" LIKE THAT, I SWEAR I ALMOST CRIED FOR THE STRONG EMOTIONS, IT WAS SO PERFECT WITH THE SCENE😭😭

Haha thank you 😆

Hehehe so many of their songs just fit so well I just HAD to 🥵

[pickalilywrites]

Hi is it possible for you to write platonic reihisu and beruyumi. Some ideas about how Reibert and Yumikuri would go on a double date thanks to their platonic friendship.

absolutely :)

Love's Just a Game

ReiBert. YumiKuri. Modern AU. Platonic!ReiHisu. Platonic!BeruYumi. 5015 words. Read on AO3!

When Reiner walks into the tea parlor, Historia is waiting for him at a table. She’s already ordered the perfect spread for today’s afternoon tea: Darjeeling tea in pink porcelain teacups, smoked salmon sandwiches, English scones stuffed with clotted cream and strawberry jam, and a plethora of freshly baked pastries. Historia looks like the picture of perfection sitting there in her smart periwinkle ensemble made of a fitted blazer and a peplum skirt. Her hair is done up in a neat French twist, not a single hair out of place. She smiles when she sees Reiner walking towards her, raising her hand to give him a princess wave. He scowls back at her in lieu of a greeting.  

Reiner takes a seat across from Historia, slouching in his seat instead of trying to keep up with appearances. He’s not dressed as a slob, of course. He’s in his salmon button down, a few buttons tastefully undone, and pressed, white trousers, but it’s hard competing with someone who resembles an actual Disney princess.  

“Aw, Reiner, why the long face?” Historia asks. She lifts her cup to her mouth, but it does little to hide the smug smile on her lips. After setting her cup back on a saucer, she delicately pats her mouth with the cloth napkin on her lap. She’s somehow mastered the technique of wiping her mouth without smudging her lipstick.  

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why, Reiss,” Reiner says, his voice gruff. His eyes scan past the colorful plates of food presented to them on the table. Normally, he would scarf them down easily and have a cordial conversation with Historia, but the time for congeniality is over. His eyes narrow as he looks at Historia, gaze fixed on the golden spectacles dangling from Historia’s neck. “I see you have your bragging glasses out.”  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never do anything so vulgar,” Historia replies, but her smirk says she knows exactly what Reiner’s talking about. As if to irritate him further, Historia lifts the glasses from around her neck and balances them on her nose before taking out a notebook and flipping it open to where it’s bookmarked. “Would you like to see this week’s tally?”  

“I don’t need to see this week’s tally,” Reiner replies. He has a similar notebook back in his apartment that tracks the same thing. He knows exactly what Historia is talking about, but even thinking about the latest tally fills him with embarrassment. “Your lead is only temporary, so enjoy it while it lasts.”  

“Are you sure about it? I’ve been in the lead for quite some time, but it’s nice that you’re not discouraged,” Historia says. She turns the notebook over so that Reiner can read the page.  

Reiner doesn’t want to read the page, but it’s hard not to miss the words written in perfect cursive on top of the page: Best Girlfriend/Boyfriend Ever. Underneath the title, there are two columns. One column has Historia’s name while the other column has Reiner’s name on top. There are tallies underneath both of their names, but Historia’s tallies outnumber Reiner’s by at least three. He scowls at the sight of it just as he has scowled at it every night before bed when reading his own notebook. 

“Do you want me to throw you a party or something?” Reiner sniffs.  

“Not at all, but maybe you could try arranging better dates. I bet Bertholdt would also appreciate our double dates more if his boyfriend didn’t plan hikes that involved everyone getting stung by wasps,” Historia smirks. She takes off her glasses, letting them dangle around her neck once more. She turns her attention to the sandwiches and picks one up delicately between her fingers. “Oh, and if you can pay lunch today, that would be great.”  

Reiner rolls his eyes. He’s been paying for their lunches for the past few weeks. It’s customary for the person with less tallies to pay for their afternoon teas. Reiner doesn’t mind much, but he’s not sure how longer he can stand this losing streak. It’s less about money and more about pride. It’s also about planning dates that don’t result in having to slather his boyfriend’s body in cortisone cream every night for a week, although Bertholdt will say that it was an unconventional but invaluable bonding experience between the two of them.  

“I hardly think that it was the worst double date we’ve ever had,” Reiner huffs. He tries to recall other disastrous dates they’ve shared with their partners. Although he usually only remembers his with shame, he does recall a handful of times where the disaster dates were planned by Historia. “What about when you flew us to France for a week and it rained the whole time? We were drenched by the time we got to our hotel. Ymir had a cold that lasted for two weeks, and we were holed up in the hotel the entire time!” 

“At least it was a nice hotel,” Historia snaps. Her lower lip sticks out in a childish pout, and she leaves her sandwich abandoned on her plate. “They had so many pillows and blankets. Maybe the trip didn’t go as intended, but you can’t argue the success of Pillow Town.”  

Reiner snorts at the mention of Pillow Town, the name that Ymir had given her massive pillow fort. Its construction took up nearly the entire room. When Reiner asked where the couple had slept in their hotel room, Historia confessed that she didn’t know where it was because of the mountain of pillows covering everything and had eventually given up ever trying to find it, choosing to sleep on a small mound of pillows instead. “It wasn’t successful enough to earn you a tally.”  

“Just like how rail biking couldn’t earn you a tally?” Historia retorts. She’s referring to a rail bike trip that Reiner had booked for them and their partners. It was advertised as a fun, scenic activity for couples and friends. It was actually torture, and everyone except Ymir suffered a massive sunburn. Reiner couldn’t feel his arms for a week, and he’s sure that the muscle soreness was much worse for his other friends who didn’t have as rigorous gym routines.  

“Yeah, or how you tried to make pasta and got the flour ratio all wrong?” Reiner replies. He’s alluding to a homemade dinner he and Historia had attempted. Everything was going well until Historia lost count of how many cups of flour they were supposed to use and added too much, resulting in dough that just wouldn’t come together. She had attempted to even it out by adding more eggs but that somehow made things worse because she couldn’t decide how much was enough and added too much. It was an endless cycle of more flour and then more eggs until they were up to their elbows in unworkable pasta dough. They ended up ordering sushi and abstained from eating pasta for a whole month after that. 

“What about the time you took us to a pottery class and knocked into a shelf, shattering everyone’s mugs?” Historia snaps, speaking about a time where Reiner had destroyed not only his friend’s pottery but a week’s worth of pottery from other students that had come to take the pottery class. (Reiner still argues that it wasn’t completely his fault and that the studio should have bolted down that shelf if they didn’t want accidents like that to happen.) 

They could go on and on, throwing worst-date stories at each other until they’re blue in the face, but a waitress interrupts them.  

“You took look absolutely lovely together,” the waitress says with a polite smile on her face. From her pleasant tone and oblivious expression, she has no idea that the two are in the middle of an argument. “Can I say it’s just a pleasure to be serve such a wonderful couple each week?”  

Historia and Reiner exchange looks with each other before bursting out into laughter.  

“I would never date this man in a million years,” Historia says at the same time Reiner tells the waitress, “I’m gay.”  

“O-oh,” the waitress says, shrinking back in embarrassment.  

“I think we’ll take the check now,” Reiner informs the waitress, who shuffles off immediately.  

“You haven’t eaten anything,” Historia points out.  

“You can have all of it,” Reiner says with a wave of his hand. “I’m not hungry. I’ll save my appetite for this next date, which I will plan perfectly. I’m going to fucking devour you, Historia, and I’m not going to leave any crumbs.”  

Historia smirks. “I highly doubt it, but good luck.”  

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ 

Ymir and Bertholdt are seated next to each other as they watch Historia and Reiner play Super Smash Bros. Ultimate. Historia has chosen to play as Sheik while Reiner plays as R.O.B. Ymir and Bertholdt were eliminated long ago, but Historia and Reiner are still in the game with only one life left each. It amuses both Ymir and Bertholdt how invested their partners are in the video game, choosing to stand as they mash the buttons on their switch remotes and yell expletives at each other until their throats are hoarse.  

“Who are you betting on?” Ymir asks Bertholdt, nudging him with her foot.  

“Reiner, of course,” Bertholdt says with a furrowed brow, his expression asking Ymir would ask him when there was only one obvious answer.  

“Oh, Bertholdt, ever so faithful,” Ymir hums admirably. She turns her attention back to the screen where R.O.B is shooting laser beams at Sheik with his robot eyes. “You got it, babe! Kick his ass!” 

Historia responds with a slew of curses. Bertholdt flinches at the colorful language, but it only makes Ymir throw her head back and howl with laughter.  

“Sometimes watching people play videogames is more fun than playing them yourself,” Ymir says, stretching her arm against the back of the couch and grinning over at Bertholdt who has never looked more stressed out in his life. “Well, at least for some people. It’s always so funny seeing Historia curse. You know she doesn’t even swear this much when we -”  

“Fuck!” Historia shouts as R.O.B. knocks Sheik off the screen and the character victory screen for the robot appears. Sheik is slumped down in the background alongside Ymir’s and Bertholdt’s characters, Wario and Kirby. Historia whirls around angrily and glares up at a smug Reiner, her switch controller dangling from her wrist. She points a finger at him. “I want a rematch!”  

“Why, so you can lose again?” Reiner snickers. 

“So I can beat your dumb, robot ass!” Historia says. She’s red-faced and her hair is disarray, a look of vengeance glimmers in her eye, but she’s hardly threatening at 4’9”.  

“Come on, Historia,” Ymir says, standing up from the couch to wrap her arms around her girlfriend. She smothers a few kisses against Historia’s neck and gently undoes the controller strap around Historia’s wrist. “Let’s have a few more drinks and calm down a bit, and then you can go back and kick Reiner’s stupid butt.”  

“Your strongest vodka, please,” Historia hiccups as Ymir leads her to the minibar for another drink. Historia stumbles behind her girlfriend drunkenly, wobbling with every step. 

“I’ll make you a vodka soda,” Ymir tells her before uncapping the vodka bottle and opening a can of Sprite with a hiss.  

“Surely, a drink is the exact opposite of what Historia needs,” Bertholdt says. He’s had a few drinks himself, but it always takes more than a few to get him drunk due to his large frame.  

“Normally, I would agree with you, Bertl, but today’s activities include getting drunk out of our minds and playing videogames, so a few more drinks can’t hurt,” Reiner says with a lazy smile. He picks up Bertholdt’s half-finished drink, a watered-down gin and tonic, and downs the rest of it.  

“I wouldn’t worry too much, it’s like 99 percent soda anyway,” Ymir assures Bertholdt in a stage whisper. Her voice is loud enough for Historia to hear, but the blonde waif is too drunk and busy downing her drink to pay attention.  

Historia downs the drink in one big gulp, finishing it off with a large gasp. She doesn’t seem to notice that the soda-to-alcohol ratio is off. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. With a drunken finger, she points to where Reiner is (or at least where she thinks Reiner is).  

“Rematch, asshole! I’m going to eat you alive!” Historia bellows, words slurring. Ymir gently guides Historia’s finger away from Bertholdt and towards Reiner.  

A rematch hardly seems fair considering Historia can no longer distinguish her friends from each other, but Reiner picks up his controller with a chuckle. “Be prepared to lose again, Reiss.”  

As they start a new match, Bertholdt can only watch with his head shaking in wonder. “It’s really difficult to believe they were friends before this,” he murmurs as Historia’s character (this time Princess Peach) drifts off the screen because Historia has confused the Toadstool Princess with Diddy Kong.  

“A love like theirs is not something we mortals can understand,” Ymir says. She takes a swig from her bottle of beer and smacks her lips, relishing the taste. She once again takes a seat on the couch and smiles as Historia loses once more. “But, damn, if it isn’t entertaining.”  

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ 

The four friends lounge on the sofa and chaises in Historia and Ymir’s living room apartment. They’re decked out in their pajamas — Historia in silken pajamas while the others wear random t-shirts they got years ago from college events and plaid pajama pants — with fluffy robes thrown over. All of them have mud masks plastered on their faces, some of them applied more carefully than others. In the background, soothing whale songs play on the Bluetooth speakers. Candles are lit around the room, filling the apartment with the soothing aroma of lavender and sandalwood.  

“I think this is the most relaxed I’ve felt in a long time,” Bertholdt murmurs with his eyes closed. His lips hardly move when he speaks so as to not disturb his mud mask even though it’s already dry. He wiggles his toes contentedly in his fluffy slippers.  

“Where did you get this playlist?” Reiner asks Historia curiously. She doesn’t typically listen to whale songs. Her road trip playlists typically consist of classical music (she favors the work of classical composers such as Hadyn, Mozart, and Beethoven) or indie pop music if she wants to put on something that’s friendlier to the general public. 

“I spent last week curating it after I decided we would have a spa day date,” Historia replies. “I don’t half-ass my date ideas, Reiner. I put the utmost care into planning every detail to make sure everything goes accordingly.”  

“Of course, you do,” Reiner mutters. She’s always been like this, planning for every detail while also making sure to plan for alternative cases in the event she ran into obstacles and her original plan couldn’t be followed. It would be admirable if she weren’t using her powers for evil (I.e., outdoing him at planning dates and making him look bad in front of Bertholdt).  

“I’ll send you the playlist after this since you like it so much,” Historia says, her voice saccharine sweet.  

“Great, thanks,” Reiner says flatly without an ounce of sincerity in his voice.  

Ymir’s legs are spread widely as she relaxes in the recliner. Her mud mask is the messiest out of the four. She hadn’t taken much care when she was applying it. She has clumps all over her face and had applied it not only on her face but her neck as well. She had gotten some of the mud mask on the collar of her fluffy robe too, but she looks rather pleased with herself anyway.  

“I’ve never really been one for self-care, but I feel like I’m in my element this time,” Ymir says.  

“Your element being mud?” Bertholdt snorts. “What are you, an ogre?”  

“Aye, I’m an ogre! Arrr!” Ymir growls in her best impression of the beloved 2001 animated ogre Shrek. She raises her hands in a threatening pose, but it only makes her look ridiculous when her hair is tied so messily and mud is smeared across her face. The group of friends can’t help but burst into laughter at the sight of her. Ymir pretends to be offended, but even she is stifling a smile. “You laugh when you should be frightened. Do not forget that I have the upper hand now that you three have dared step foot in my swamp!” 

“You’re the least threatening ogre I’ve ever seen, although you might be in the running for ugliest,” Reiner snickers.  

“I think you mean the cutest ogre ever,” Historia says, and Ymir sits up straight with a pleased smile on her face. 

“Aye, thank you, princess. I think you are beautiful as well. How about we kiss and have our happily ever after?” Ymir asks, but her Shrek impression has evolved into an awful Scottish accent. She pulls the most hideous expression she can before leaning over to Historia and pressing kisses against Historia’s cheeks. Ymir ignores Historia’s giggled protests and the fact that she’s getting mud on her lips, only stopping once she’s satisfactorily smothered Historia’s face with kisses. 

“Ugh, you’re such a mess,” Historia says, but she smiles as she plucks tissues from a nearby tissue box to lovingly dab away mud from Ymir’s lips.  

Bertholdt looks over with an amused expression. “How sweet. I guess it is true that Ogres and onions are unexpectedly sweet.”  

“Excuse you,” Ymir sniffs. “Ogres and onions are similar in that we are both very complexly layered. Do we need to have another Shrek movie marathon or would you rather I recite the script for all four films to you in their entirety?”  

“Can I choose neither?” Bertholdt asks. They’ve all been through both scenarios before and while it is amusing, it’s also rather time consuming.  

“I am also a complexly layered being,” Reiner says, still stuck on the previous conversation. He reaches over and tugs on the elbow of Bertholdt’s robe, a childish habit he adopts whenever he’s trying to capture his boyfriend’s attention. He has a devilish smile on his face as he rises from his seat to bracket Bertholdt against the couch with his arms. “Watch me.”  

Ymir and Historia laugh in delighted amusement as Reiner proceeds to kiss Bertholdt in the same reckless manner that Ymir had kissed Historia while Bertholdt yelps in surprise. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ 

All four friends are currently at an antique shop trying to find the weirdest thing they can find. Reiner has a mountain of items filling his basket, deciding that he can pick one at random and still win this competition or at least place second. Bertholdt is trying to decide between two strange things: a weird Frankenstein stuffed animal made up of parts of various other stuffed animals that aren’t even the same species or a hideous Nicolas Cage sequin pillow. If you flip the sequins on the Nicholas Cage pillow, it’s an even more zoomed in version of the same photo. Ymir is very convinced that she’s already chosen the best item, a T-Rex head wall mount that she had spotted from across the store when they had first walked in. She had zoomed through aisles of second-hand clothes and odd knickknacks and plucked the wall mount from the hook it was hanging from. She hadn’t bothered to look for anything else because she was so assured that victory was in her hands. Reiner also thinks that it's highly likely Ymir is going to purchase the T-Rex regardless of whether she wins or not even though purchasing the item is not a requirement for this competition. Out of the group of friends, it seems that only Historia is struggling to find an item for the game.  

Despite the plethora of odd novelty items at their disposal, anything completely out of the ordinary seems to elude Historia. At best, she can find the most mundane items. At worst, she finds things that are strange but quite impressive, like the glass egg cuber that Reiner is considering buying to make his salads more interesting.  

“Are you trying to lose on purpose because it seems like you’re trying to lose on purpose,” Reiner snickers as he sees Historia looking at a shelf of perfectly cute salt and pepper shakers. 

“Shut up,” Historia grumbles. She reaches towards the back of the shelf only to pluck out a pair of ceramic shakers shaped like birds. They look absolutely adorable, but Historia throws her head back and groans when she sees them before placing them back grumpily. She continues to scour more shelves, an angry pout on her face.  

Bertholdt follows behind, inspecting the shelf that Historia had just abandoned. He spots the shakers that Historia had looked at and admires them. “You’re really good at picking things out, Historia. If we were having a competition to find the most amazing thing at a thrift store, I bet you’d win.”  

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Historia frowns. “It’s not working.”  

Ymir appears behind Historia with the T-Rex head tucked underneath her arm. She reaches out to give her girlfriend a comforting massage against her shoulder blades. “You just have a talent you can’t ignore, Historia, and it’s a good thing you do. Don’t think of it as a bad thing. Think about how cute our apartment looks. Remember how you wouldn’t let me pick out stuff for our place unsupervised? You don’t know how grateful I am for that. It looks so amazing thanks to your eye for décor. In fact, I think having a T-Rex head mounted over our dining table would pull everything together and bring out all the subtle gold accents of the wallpaper you selected.”  

Historia is too busy scouring the aisles to listen properly and just mumbles in agreement. Ymir mouths, “Yes!” excitedly and pumps her fist in victory. Historia will probably come to regret not paying more attention to her girlfriend.  

“I guess you’re just cursed with good taste,” Reiner snickers. “Who knew it would cripple you at such a pivotal moment?”  

“Stop rushing me. The game isn’t even over yet,” Historia snaps. She rifles through the contents of the current shelf before giving up and heading towards the clothing section. She scans the rack with an expert eye, spending less than five seconds on each rack before moving onto the next one. She stops by the jeans section, but Reiner has already been there before, and he hadn’t seen anything odd in the rows and rows of denim when he had inspected them, so it surprises him when Historia pulls out a pair with a triumphant expression on her face. “I got it!”  

Her friends crowded around her, confused. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary with the jeans that she holds up, at least not from the front. They all squint, looking up the denim up and down to see if there is something that they perhaps missed but they still fail to see why Historia is so convinced that these jeans will lead her to the path of victory. 

“What is it?” Ymir finally asks. 

“Assless pants.” Historia doesn’t elaborate. She only holds the jeans out further to them, but it still isn’t clear what she’s talking about.  

The three are speechless with surprise, unsure if they have heard her correctly. 

“Assless pants?” Reiner repeats. 

“As in the fabric was worn down at the seat and they were given away or -” Bertholdt begins to ask, but Historia interrupts him.  

“They don’t have an ass,” she says, and proceeds to turn over the pants so that her friends can finally see the back side. 

A look at the back of the jeans does reveal that they indeed do not have an ass. Where there should be denim covering the backside, are two pieces of plastic covering the ass cheeks to ensure that the wearer’s rump will be in full view. Why anyone would ever make jeans like these is anyone’s guess. 

Historia gestures for Ymir to follow her with the T-Rex head before confidently walking towards the cash register. She tosses her head back to tell her friends, “I think we can agree that I’ve won this challenge. Let’s check out our items and have a little celebratory dinner. Reiner is paying.”  

Historia’s victory is indisputable, but Reiner is still confused as to why she’s purchasing the pants. 

“For you to wear, of course,” Historia replies when Reiner asks. There’s a smug smirk on her lips. “I’m buying it as a consolation prize to you, the loser.” 

“Fine, I’ll do it gladly because my ass looks amazing,” Reiner says through gritted teeth.  

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃ 

Reiner and Historia bump into each other in front of their tea shop. They smile at each other icily and race to open the door for the other, insisting that the other person goes first. After fighting in front of the tea shop for a few minutes, the two of them end up squishing through the front doors together, elbowing each other as they make their way through. They continue to bicker as they make their way to their usual table, but their steps falter when they realize that there are two unexpected guests seated at their usual spot. Bertholdt sits fussing with the cloth napkin in his lap, looking down because he’s unable to look them in the eye. Ymir, however, looks as if she was expecting them and gestures for Reiner and Historia to take their seats across from them.  

“What are you two doing here together?” Reiner asks. Ymir and Bertholdt also have their own platonic play dates without Historia and Reiner, but they tend to enjoy different activities like playing videogames and reading manga. “I thought afternoon tea wasn’t your thing.”  

Ymir shrugs, popping a finger sandwich in her mouth. She doesn’t even finish chewing before speaking. “It’s not, but we wanted to talk with you two. We’re having an intervention.”  

Reiner and Historia exchange glances. 

“What for? We haven’t done anything,” Historia says.  

Bertholdt twists the napkin in his lap, still unable to look up. He mumbles as he speaks. He’s never liked conflict. “We’ve become aware that arranging double dates has become something of a competition between you two and we’re worried that it’s destroying your relationship.”  

Reiner and Historia protest and insist that that’s not the case, but it’s clear from their guilty expressions that they are aware of what Ymir and Bertholdt are referring to.  

“Okay, we’re competing to see who’s the better romantic partner by throwing fabulous double dates. Is that a crime?” Reiner says, throwing his hands up in defeat over being found out.  

“No, but we’re worried it’s bringing you more pain than pleasure,” Ymir says. As she speaks, she continues to pluck various food items from the afternoon tea spread in front of them and pop them in her mouth. Seeing as Bertholdt is too anxious to eat, it must be Ymir who has devoured the majority of the meal on the table.  

“I assure you that’s not the case,” Reiner tells Ymir. “It brings me so much pleasure. Every week, I look forward to destroying Historia in the art of romance. It gives me almost as much pleasure as making love to Bertholdt, the love of my life.”  

Bertholdt looks absolutely mortified. He buries his face in his hands, but they aren’t large enough to cover his scarlet ears.  

“Okay, but you two do know that this shouldn’t be a game, right?” Ymir asks. Other patrons had looked over in shock at Reiner’s words, some even covering their children’s ears, but Ymir is unfazed by her friend’s crudeness. “We’re all just dating, having fun, falling deeper in love with our significant others. And love isn’t a game, right?”  

Historia and Reiner nod. Both of their faces have become incredibly serious. 

“No, you’re absolutely right. Love isn’t a game,” Historia agrees. She reaches over to hold one of Ymir’s hands, ignoring the crumbs all over her girlfriend’s fingers. “But if it were, and I’m only saying this hypothetically, then wouldn’t you agree that I would be absolutely winning?”  

“What? No, you wouldn’t!” Reiner squawks, turning toward Historia indignantly. “My weird antique shopping date was infinitely better than your spa day. I even wore those weird assless pants for you. You could tell that story to people over dinner ten times over and they still wouldn’t get tired of it.”  

Historia snorts. She tosses her hair over her shoulder with of a roll of her eyes and says, “I would hardly want to talk to people about your ass hanging out of those pants over dinner. They’d all lose their appetites at the mere mention of you wearing something so hideous.”  

“You were the one who insisted I wear those pants to dinner outside!” Reiner argues, his raised voice attracting even more attention from other patrons. 

The two continue to bicker, completely forgetting Ymir and Bertholdt seated across from them. Bertholdt looks nervous as he watches the two argue back and forth, but Ymir continues to devour finger sandwiches without concern.  

“Shouldn’t we stop them?” he asks, his fingers hovering nervously near his mouth. He rises as if to ready himself to physically separate Historia and Reiner.  

“Nah, they’re just like this,” Ymir says with a shake of her head. She raises her hand to flag down a nearby waitress for more finger sandwiches. Even though she looks completely out of place in her ratty T-shirt and ripped jeans, she looks completely comfortable.  

Bertholdt sighs. He leans back resignedly against the couch, but his eyebrow is still furrowed with worry. He looks exhausted just watching Reiner and Historia argue. “I’m glad we’re nothing like them.”  

“Amen,” Ymir agrees.  

#snk #yumihisu #yumikuri #reibert #modern au #asks #answered #anon #anonymous #requests #me writing this at 2AM: wow i am the most hilarious person in the world #thanks for the ask! #it's nice people still enjoy my writing enough to request things

[s-talking]

The sound of the door and a reusable plastic bag is what alerts Amaryllis to pad softly for the door -- but the serial killer living in the house was there first. Stuck to the porcelain woman like a parasitic wasp's larva and its host caterpillar yet-born. Except, there is no death here. Just... A peculiar obsessive idea of love, and hers was drowning in abandonment issues and possessiveness.

Yet here she is, rummaging through the bag to pull out some clothes too big for her. The jacket, very comfortable indeed, is pulled taught to his shoulders. It's thin in material, but so very baggy -- as he likes them it seems. "It's getting warmer, and I don't want you running around in something too thick in these temperatures. You might have a heat stroke." she utters, still assessing it fits him properly, and of course it does. All of this coming from a place of genuine love and care for this strange man, even is possessive as much as he is obsessive.

"I got you a new top too to go with it." It's given to him. Very thin, obviously sports-wear, and with a high collar. It lacks sleeves, and hugs the frame nicely. She knows it would look nice on him.

Her eyes didn't leave his face, as she inspects him. Much more closely as a dainty palm reaches for ebony locks veiling one eye. "Hmm." She thinks audibly, clearly perusing her thoughts on something pertaining to him while the exotic cat brushes affectionately with welcome at her legs. "It's longer than last week." she surmises, wondering if she should cut it for him back to its short length, unsure if he does it himself.

The fabric hair-tie is pulled from around his left wrist to stretch out, and she brings it close to his head. Careful to pull the strands back behind his head into a messy bun, but she keeps some of his fringe out of it so that it covers at least a portion of his eye as he prefers. Just not his entire face.

"Don't forget that you are safe and loved here, Envy. Always." she concludes, pressing a soft, warm kiss against his cheek. One at the corner of his daring mouth for good measure, even though she knows that action is a dangerous game to play with him.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐔'𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 ── crowded him, almost ── he realized, even though the portrayal of ' love ' & being ' loved ' were never a foreign concept. not entirely, at least, for envy learned from early on to feel through others, mimicking their words & hearts until they became a mirage of his own. interestingly enough, however, sakuyoru was never once included. not even as she invaded his personal space, showing him all the mannerisms & conducts worthy of noting, those being the very same which some people would call ' happiness, ' & envy wanted to genuinely believe that despite the ever-growing absence inside, he, too, shall one day have it. not as an illusion, but in reality.

      so why hesitate?

well, it seems as though even the madman in him doesn't know. envy feels nothing but serenity whenever near her, like standing knees-deep in a field of snow ── a silent, beautiful, nigh endless dream ── only for its fog to obscure everything, day by day erasing one bad memory at a time. indeed, sakuyoru is simply intangible like that, & perhaps, somewhere along the line, is precisely why envy allows for this to go on, for her to see the side of him which managed to partially survive. even now, as she simply attempts pull away, only to be pulled right back by the rim of her collar.

❝ is that... all.... ── ? ❞ the young serial killer questions & slowly preens over the young woman until their breaths mingle like warm, invisible kisses, the once cold & empty eyes now leering with unspoken hunger. ❝ ohh, but i want..... more.... ❞ he slowly laps between her lips with his tongue, dragging it, almost, before letting go of the collar just to wrap own arms around her waist & closing in, steal a deep, hard kiss. one that soon enough breaks apart enough for him to exhale & whisper, ❝ m o r e.... ❞

digging black nails into her sides, envy suddenly presses in, overtaking sakuyoru entirely. no space to move or budge. not even breathe. he kisses her like the drowning crave for air, forcing the young woman back with a commanding push that slams her into the wooden wall behind, knocking over a nearby vase & startling the cat but he, himself, doesn't hear it, being much too preoccupied with the silky flesh currently locked between his teeth. sakuyoru can feel the wickedness rise in shape of his grip, growing tighter, more vicious & restricting even as envy parts once again from their kiss, leaving her cherry lips bruised & marked all the while he stares at her in silence for a moment, the eerie smile now ever so wide ── much too wide ── giving envy a stunningly devilish look.

❝    . . . . . . . ❞

the reveled fangs glimmer in the dark, seconds before all gentleness fades & he resumes, devouring her.

𝐁 𝐎 𝐍 𝐔 𝐒:

since you've made this scene so damn cute, i've decided to doodle how he'd look like in this scene with his hair grown out & tied. ♡

#// once you get him going.. #i'm afraid there's no option to back out. #you're all his.. saku ~ #🔪 ❝ ᵀʰᵉ ᶫᶦᵗᵗᶫᵉ ᵏᶦᶫᶫᵉʳ⋅⋅ ❞ {{ ;; ‘𝓔𝓷𝓿𝔂’ }}

[the-tigr0u]

【𝑪𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝑪𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒊】

♔〘IƊƐƝƬIƬƳ   RҼƇƠRƊ〙♔

F U L L  N A M E

-Ciara Livia Cocanovacci-

N I C K N A M E S

-Sevin (Cutie)-

-Pup yayo (Little bird)-

-Tsawl nari (Big eyes)-

N A T I O N A L I T Y

-French-Italian-

G E N D E R

-Woman-

S P E C I E S

-Human-

A G E

-29 y.o.-

B I R T H D A Y

-23 of August-

A S T R O L O G I C A L  S I G N

-♍︎ Virgo ♍︎-

F A M I L Y

-Franco Cocanovacci (Father♱)-

-Elise Cocanovacci (Mother♱)-

-Patience Aurora Cocanovacci (Little sister)-

R E L A T I O N S H I P  S T A T U T

-Single-

-Moderately easy to have in a relationship, as she’s very shy and reserved-

-She never had anyone in her life before-

P R O F E S S I O N A L  S T A T U T

-Paleontologist and Archaeologist, as well as Cryptozoologist-

-Study the fauna of Pandora and the culture Na'vi’s people-

-Was once part of a group of scientists, but deserted when the knew that her research would serve the army in their offensives against the Na'vi-

-Is now part of an anti-military group in the snowy mountains to help the Snow Na'vi-

-Her status may change depending on the context-

"  W i l l  y o u  s t i l l  l o v e  m e  w h e n  I  g o t  n o t h i n g  b u t  m y  a c h i n g  s o u l  ?  "

♔〘  lƠƠƘՏ 〙♔

H A I R

-Naturally dark brown-

-Short plunging square haircut with a bang-

-Colored in gradient at the tips, from dark blue to turquoise, or from magenta to turquoise-

-Can still tie up her hair-

E Y E S

-Brown-

-Big, bright and curious gaze-

-Wears round glasses-

S K I N

-Porcelain and soft-

H E I G H T

-1m62  (5,3 ft.)-

W E I G H T

-///-

C O R P U L E N C E

-Chubby-

-Generous curves-

-Relatively small and discreet-

S C A R S / M A R K S

-On the right hip-

-On the right ankle-

-A burn on the left scapula-

T A T O O S

-None-

P I E R C I N G S

-Lobe from both sides-

C L O T H I N G  S T Y L E-Loose and comfortable clothes-

-Loose and comfortable clothes-

-Often clothes with wide sleeves-

-Is very fond of the Pin-Up style-

-Loves cute or quirky jewelry-

-Wear a lot of poncho, fake fur, scarves, and gloves when she has to go out in the mountains or when it's colder than usual-

" -  I f  y o u  d a n c e ,  I ' l l  d a n c e  -

-  A n d  i f  y o u  d o n ' t ,  I ' l l  d a n c e  a n y w a y  -

-  G i v e  p e a c e  a  c h a n c e  -

-  L e t  t h e  f e a r  y o u  h a v e  f a l l  a w a y  - "

♔〘ƤՏƳƇӇƠlƠƓƳ〙♔

S E X U A L I T Y

-Pansexual-

P E R S O N A L I T Y

-Shy, modest and reserved-

-Introverted, often lonely-

-Sometimes clumsy-

-Whimsical and dreamy-

-Rather fragile and sensitive in appearance-

-Studious and curious, she likes to learn-

-Very smart and clever-

-Sweet, generous and warm once open to others-

-Adorable and always ready to help-

F E A R S

-Apiphobia (Fear of bees and any other insect of the same kind)-

-Thalassophobia (Fear of the seabed, the abyss)-

-Nyctophobia (Fear of the dark)-

-Claustrophobia (Fear of tiny spaces)-

P A S S I O N S

-History-

-Literature-

-Science-

-Saxophone-

-Art-

L I K E S

- Music - Reading - Writing - Learning - Playing Saxophone - Painting and drawing - Traveling - Nature walks - Roses - Winter and snow - Tea and hot chocolate - Fireworks - Admiring anything and everything about Pandora - Learning about Na’vi’s culture -

D I S L I K E

-Bees/wasps/bumblebees/etc. - Heat - Conflicts - Feeling forced or constrained - Loud noises - Onions and honey - The smell of cigarette - To swim - The army

C I G A R E T T E

-No-

D R U G S

-No-

A L C O H O L

-Rarely-

-Can’t handle much of it-

" -  I t  d o e s n ' t  h u r t  m e  -

-  D o  y o u  w a n t  t o  f e e l  h o w  i t  f e e l s  ?  -

-  D o  y o u  w a n t  t o  k n o w ,  k n o w  t h a t  i t  d o e s n ' t  h u r t  m e  ?  - "

♔〘ƠƬӇҼRՏ〙♔

E X T R A S

-She speaks several different languages, including Na'vi fluently-

-She was supposed to have an Avatar but the latter is defective, and she left the RDA before her Avatar arrived. So the Avatar can be brought later or depending of the context.

-She learned to shoot and maintain firearms because of her uncle who forced her to when she was young-

-She learned archery and tomahawk throwing with the Snow Na'vis tribes-

-She learned self-defense, although she’s not very comfortable, she's still learning how to fight-

-She loves the cold but gets sick very easily-

-She has a talent for singing-

-Her scars are from a car accident during her childhood-

-Her burn on her collarbone is from a childhood cigarette burn-

-Her voice : Lauren Paley-

P O S S I B L E  S C E N A R I O S

-Ciara may end up in the forest areas or ocean areas of the first two films, depending of the context-

-Can welcome newcomers to the anti-military group-

-It is also possible to establish a context while she was still part of the scientists linked to the army, before she joined the anti-military group-

-It is possible that Klaro is part of the RP, the two arrived together on Pandora and are very close-

C R U S H S

-Miles Rick Quaritch-

O T H E R  P O S S I B L E  R E L A T I O N S H I P S

-Jake Sully-

-Good friends, protection-

-Neytiri -

-Close friend, confidante, protection-

-Neteyam-

-They know each others, but not very close-

-Lo'ak-

-Good friends, confident-

-Kiri & Tuk'tirey-

-Good friends, protection, playmates-

P L A Y L I S T

F U L L  P L A Y L I S T  H E R E

#OC #Avatar #Avatar 2 #Avatar 2 The Way of Water #Avatar The Way Of Water #RP #RolePlay #Ciara #Ciara Cocanovacci