Yumesanosuke - Kolya's Slut

As a Luca main this is so real

this is why my wr in duos is so low i never see it coming

Yandere Norton Hcs

Content warnings: Constant gaslighting, social manipulation, death/it’s all your fault thoughts abt reader, Norton fractures ur bones sometimes, and forced hair alteration

Important note: This is a two part commission that my client would like public! Y/n format, but they are upbeat and happy with friends and all. 5.5k words.

Yandere Joseph pt.2 (coming soon)

Norton

Didn’t trust you at first

He’s wary of everyone, but even after you had learned the horrifying truth of the manor, you had high spirits for everyone including yourself

Of course you were scared shitless just like every other newbie, but unlike him, you didn’t shield yourself away from people

How envious he was of that natural click of yours

Introverted or not, you were still friendly and approachable when the atmosphere was right

His stoic stare and large build intimidated people. Great attributes for scaring off unwanted trouble back in his part of town, not so great for making potential friends in a never ending death game.

Even the nicest ones hesitated to talk to him from time to time

It’s not like he wants everybody to be buddy buddy with him all the time. All Norton wants is something to ease his loneliness.

The only time where you could’ve interacted with him as a rookie was in matches

Sitting next to him, slightly panicking and asking him for tips, staying near him in the beginning of the game, etc.

“Don’t wait at every pallet, but don’t be scared to put one down if you need to. With some hunters, it’s better to keep a decent distance.”

Keep reading

my favorite you (rui kamishiro x gn! reader)

warnings! slight suggestive content, fluff, angst

_________________________________

"Ah..." Rui's voice was quiet as he pulled back the curtains covering the windows of his room. Outside, the rain was relentless, pouring down seemingly endlessly and filling the room with the sound pitter-pattering raindrops. His amber eyes seemed to sparkle as he turned to glance at where you sat on his plush bed, yawning. "Looks like you'll have to stay the night."

"Eh?" You glanced up at the male, eyes widening. "S-Stay the night??"

The purple-haired man shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. "It's either that or~" He gestured toward the ongoing torrent outdoors. "Having to walk home though that."

"But-"

"It'll be fine~ After all, there isn't any school tomorrow, so I don't see why not... unless you have some other unknown motives?" Rui smirked at you as he strided over next to you, sitting at your side.

"It's not that..." You felt your face grow warm at his accusation. As subtly as you could, you cleared your throat and turned back to Rui. "But my parents would get mad at me..."

"I'll text them." Rui smiled at you, still waiting for you to come up with a better excuse. "They'll understand, and they'd trust an all straight-a's student~"

You highly doubted his statement, but protested nonetheless. "But there's only one bed-"

"But there are multiple sleeping bags. You take the bed, and I'll take the ground. How about it? And if you get too cold, we could always share one~" Rui didn't take his gaze off of you, his golden eyes watching your every embarrassed movement. Your face flushed at the sensation of someone watching you, but you felt something inside of you cave in.

"Alright..." you half-sighed, half-said, slumping your shoulders. You were way too tired to be dealing with this. "Whatever then. Let's do it."

"Do it?" Rui's smirk never let his face as his expression only grew more cocky. "My, my, already becoming that suggestive, are we?"

Face burning at his nonchalant words, you whipped around to face him, which you were avoiding before. Pouting, you glared up at him accusingly. "You know that's not what I meant!!"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Now then, if you've calmed down enough, let's get ready for bed, shall we? I would cook dinner... but you know how that'd go..."

Still mildly seething, you managed to recall the last time Rui tried to bake something, instantly shuddering at the thought. "Let's not relive that."

Rui silently agreed, which was almost funny, since the two of you had hardly agreed on anything the past few days. The two of you bustled about the house, opening cabinets and grabbing fluffy blankets and snacks. As you wrestled the sleeping bag out of the case, you spotted Rui smuggling more than a few packs of grape soda candy along with the collected snack pile, but you decided to keep silent.

The two of you were nice and comfy, Rui being on the floor and you laying on his bed at his insistence. You had wrapped yourself up in several warm blankets and Rui merely had one draped over his shoulders. As the rain outside ceaselessly pelted down from the sky, Rui glanced up at you expectantly.

"Hey." His voice was soft, so much so you almost didn't catch it.

"Hm?" Rolling around, you peeked down at him. "Need something?"

"You were with Toya yesterday. Toya Aoyagi." Rui's tone was still gentle, but not so much as before. "Why?"

Blinking, you replied with an air of confusion. "Ah... because he's my friend?" Not really understanding his question, you settled back and waited until Rui found the words to elaborate more.

"Friend... just a friend?" His question is short, but it took you aback.

"Well, yeah..." Still startled, you rambled on. "I have lots of friends, you know. Not just him. There's Akito and Tsukasa and Mizuki and Haruka... I could name a lot." You let out a quiet, airy laugh. "Why do you ask?"

Rui smiled, an expression without any malice or suspicious motives. Instead, he just seemed... sad. His daffodil colored eyes were pained as he stared up at you, whispering, "Am I just a friend to you too?"

"...What?"

"A friend. You said you had a lot of friends. Am I one of them?"

"Of course-" You cut yourself off as you saw Rui's resting figure slump. "But..." Still struggling to find the right words, you patted the pillow beside you. "Here. Lay here first, and then I'll explain."

Rui didn't hesitate, but he didn't say a word to you either. Slowly, he got up, blanket trailing behind him, and eased his way onto the mattress. Filling the space to your right, he trained his eyes on you. "I'm waiting."

Nodding, you tried to swallow the fear bubbling about and stopped your hands from wavering. "Rui... the question you asked... it's actually something I think about a lot too. S-Sometimes... I feel like we're just friends - y'know - during play rehearsals or lunch break. But other times..." Your voice trailed off, tone shaky. "Other times, when it's just the two of us, I can feel myself blush and I can hear my heart pound. I'm not an idiot, Rui. I-I know what this means... and I've been putting off saying this for a long time. Longer than I should've. And for that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I hurt you." You couldn't trust yourself to say anymore, afraid of saying something you shouldn't, afraid of saying something that would ruin, well, everything.

Rui stayed silent for a long time. So long that you were beginning to fear that he had fallen asleep, and right when you were about to call out his name, he spoke.

"Is that how you feel? Is that your answer?" In the dark of the room, you couldn't make out anything more than the movement of his lips.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll let me do this, won't you?"

And just like that, the rain stopped. Moonlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the room with a glow. On rhythm, Rui turned to you, eyes shimmering. He pulled you close, so tightly you could hardly breathe, and stole your breath away as his lips met yours. Everything is warm - too hot. Rui doesn't seem to notice, nor does he seem to care, and you might as well not care either as the purple-haired male cups your cheeks and brings your head to meet his. Warmth surges through your body as your heartbeat echoes in your ears. It's fast, almost unbelievably so, but it's easy to forget it when Rui is right in front of you. His golden eyes gleam as he closes the space between the two of you again, and this time, you can feel a smile gracing his lips. And in your ear, you can barely hear him whisper three words:

"I love you."

masterlist ✩

sillies

TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1: ᴇᴍʙʀᴀᴄᴇ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ cw: mature content, dark content, kidnapping, age gap, manhandling | words: 3.9k

➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu

Your lips are muttering numbers.

It is hard to count the cash in your hands while they are covered with worn-out gloves. Slowly but surely, you total up all the notes, smiling to yourself that you have surpassed a personal goal for tonight. You stuff the cash notes into your small baby blue pouch, zipping it up before you focus on your route again.

The pavement is covered with a sheer layer of snow, which is piling up as more snowflakes are pouring from the cold night sky. Your boots clack onto the cement. Tap, tap, tap—they go.

You just finished your shift for the night, which is considerably later than usual. You are an escort in a local bar that is quite infamous in the town. You entertain guests—usually lonely old men who seek faux comfort from a pair of gentle hands of a young woman. Sometimes you make a small performance in the local bar like tap-dancing or singing. Sometimes you are just sitting with a customer, listening to their problems, swallowing their drunken confessions.

But nothing sexual has ever happened to you. Sure, you do get invitations to sleep with your customers, but you always refuse it—it is just a personal choice, really. And you do not like to kiss and make out with a drunkard anyway. The furthest that has ever happened was when a middle-aged man slept on your lap after dunking three bottles of beer into his system and you had to let him suckle on your hand. Old people do have the wildest fetishes, sometimes.

Besides, the other senior escorts advised you to not get too sexual with the customers either—so you can keep selling the idea of how unapproachable you are. So, they can keep coming and coming, just to see you and to indulge in their fantasy of having a chance to dip into your pants.

You are not opposed to the idea of sex—the feeling of being desired has long been brewing in you. But you are already fine with the attention these customers give you, no matter how perverted and dark the true nature of their intentions.

Attention feels nice.

But too much attention makes one feel like killing themselves.

You walk at a slow pace. The snow is piling up, covering the pavement and the road with a thin blanket of white particles on the earth's surface. The wind feels drier as ever, colder. But it is not so strong that it blocks your sight. It is dark. The sky is covered with a veil of navy blue, with dots of faint sparkles scattered over it. The road lacks any sight of humans, though it is not even late. But the emptiness is purely because of how dull it is for a small town—well, what is to be expected from a suburban area?

You are too used to loneliness. It is the back of your hand. You are accustomed to such environments—where your personal space is never barged, never wanted. Which is why, you are too aware of the asynchronous slow footsteps behind you.

You glance at the reflection of the windows on each car you pass by. It is hard to see properly, but there is indeed a dark figure—taller, bigger—five feet away from your back.

Must be going in the same direction...

That's what you want to think.

You keep walking and keep your calm. Panic will only get you to nowhere. Best to not provoke anyone—especially in this suburban area. The bus stop is just fifty metres ahead. The road lights are flickering. You are almost there. Your blue heels clack on the pavement as you fasten your steps.

However,

Your body is swooped back harshly and you are about to scream before a strong arm wraps around your body and a big hand covers your mouth with a weird-smelling white cloth. Your scream is muffled beneath the napkin as you struggle against the man.

But his hold on you is obviously stronger.

“Shut your mouth.” He says as he drags you to the other side of the road, forcing your feet to follow his wide strides. You harden your legs, to make it harder for him to drag you but the substance you have been inhaling makes your vision worse. The orange lights are spiralling, the sky is falling, and the stars are crumbling.

“Mmmh!” You groan one last time as loud as you can as your head is dizzying away into a maze of incoherent thoughts. You grip your kidnapper's arm tightly as your eyes are threatening to close. And once your consciousness gives up on staying with you, you only feel your weak body being tossed onto a rough surface.

The last thing you see is a sight of tall pale man, with his hair as white as the snow falling from the night winter sky.

— ♡

“What?! So soon?”

“Quit screaming in my ear, you dipshit.” Nikolai sighs as he leans back to his car seat. He taps the ashes of his cigarette out of the window before placing it between his lips again. He glances at the young woman who is unconscious right beside him—you.

"Dude, I gave that work last night and you got the girl... not even 24 hours later!”

Nikolai snorts. “Well, what can I say? I'm too good at this.” He says before he huffs the smoke from his cigarette. “Besides, this girl lives in a small town. It's not hard to figure out where she is and what she does.” Nikolai adds before he throws the cigarette out.

“Alright, no need for cockiness. But you hafta keep the girl with you for a while.”

Nikolai's jaw hangs. “What? Why? I got the girl. Why can't we just give her to those loan sharks and move on? I need money.” He protests. He hears his friend sigh loudly and Nikolai could practically see the rolling eyes of annoyance.

“I'm not saying that you'd keep her for a long fucking while. I need to consult with the loansharks again so we can arrange a meeting to give the girl to them and get our payment.”

“You’re so horrible at managing, I swear to God,” Nikolai grunts. His friend laughs and it irks Nikolai for some reason—he knows a mockery when he hears one. “Stop laughing, Viktor Pavlovsky. I'll kick your ass for forcing me to take care of a child.”

“Oh, heavens, my brother Kolyushka! She's not even a child! Just make sure she doesn't die!”

“I am not a babysitter, Viktor...”

“Alright, bye, lovely! I'm gonna do my part to satisfy our clients too, m'kay?”

Nikolai does not even get a chance to curse out Viktor before the man ends the call. Irritated, he tosses the phone to the cup holder in front of him. Nikolai glances at his side—you are still sleeping, or passed out, so quietly, so peacefully.

He seizes your jaw roughly, shaking your head—but you remain asleep, limp. Nikolai sighs. The substance must be too strong for you and he does admit that he did press the napkin too hard on your mouth and nose. Well, it's better to have you unconscious instead. Who knows if you dare enough to put up a fight? He does not mind killing you if you are being such a big problem, but you are the starshine of this whole ordeal.

Yesterday, Nikolai received word from Viktor about a new job. He had to kidnap a girl, needed as a hostage for a group of dangerous loan sharks. Apparently, your father is too deep in debt with those loansharks and he is having a very hard time paying back. The man keeps evading and running away, dragging you along with him.

Nikolai already knows some stuff about you. You are working in a bar as an escort, which explains your current clothes right now—a baby blue dress, white stockings, blue heels and a white cardigan. You do look adorable—Nikolai knows that many men in the bar you worked at would really love to have you on their bed.

Hells, if you are not a target, perhaps Nikolai would flirt with you as well.

But now you are asleep soundly in his car and he has to keep you with him because he is just too good at his job.

Nikolai sighs again before he leans towards you, taking the seatbelt to buckle you up. Then he yanks one of the ribbons on your hair, causing your head to tilt as well. He uses the ribbon to tie your wrists together, as tight as possible that the ribbon practically digs into your skin.

“Now, how do I 'take care' of this girl...” He murmurs as he holds the steering wheel, beginning to drive off the place. Nikolai is thinking hard. Should he get you to his humble apartment? Should he just drop you at Viktor's place? Should he ditch you somewhere he only knows and he will come and take you shall his clients finally need you?

But since this is a kidnapping, he should not let you be in the public's eyes. Especially your father. The whole point of kidnapping you is to keep you as a hostage, not a guest.

Nikolai is about to turn his car in the direction going to Viktor's place, but he remembers that Viktor lives with his girlfriend. He knows how possessive can Viktor's girlfriend be—Nikolai has heard enough stories from Viktor about how his girlfriend hit other people just because of her own jealousy.

And the last thing Nikolai wants is to have you tainted with bruises or dirt. You must remain flawless for the loansharks once they retrieve you in the future. He aims to get the most money out of this job—he is already desperate for them.

Reluctantly, Nikolai drives his way to his apartment complex—a worn-out building containing house units. It is an old building that constantly gets renovations and repairments just to keep it functioning for people to live. It is basically for the lower class to live.

He parks his car by the building and gets out. He gets to your side and unbuckles your seatbelt. Nikolai sighs, scratching his neck as he contemplates how to get you inside without raising suspicion. He knows that there are security cameras planted in the corridor for each floor. He doubts the owner of the building pays that much attention though since Nikolai had gone back home with a bloody shirt before and nothing was reported.

But at least he needs to be careful.

Nikolai takes off his jacket and drapes it over your body—or to be exact, your tied wrists. He then gently carries your body in his arms, kicking the car door close. He brings you inside the building and gets to his designated floor by the stairs—the elevator is barely functioning well anyway.

Nikolai gets to the sixth floor and walks to his unit quickly. He realizes he needs to get his keys from his pocket. Grunting in dissatisfaction, Nikolai lets down your legs, so you are leaning against his body instead. That way, he could hold your limp body while opening the door with one hand.

He wraps his arm around your body, pressing your body closer to him while he unlocks the door to his unit. Once he gets it, Nikolai practically drags you easily into the house, slamming the door close before unlocking it. He drags your limp body before tossing you onto the old couch.

“Fucking wake up already... Why do I need to babysit this girl?” He sighs loudly before he gets to you, taking off your heels and taking away his jacket from your body. He stares at your unconscious figure for a moment—leering his darkened gaze over your curves.

Nikolai swallows nervously—something stirs in his chest but he decides to ignore it. He proceeds to carry you again to his unkempt bed and once again tosses you onto the uncomfortable mattress. He takes a rope beneath the bed and ties your legs together before making a tight knot to the footboard railing, just so you cannot escape easily once you wake up.

“Alright, now what?” He asks himself as he looks at you again—tied and asleep, on his bed. He does not want to stay close to you, let alone sleep in the same space. Knowing he has little to no choice, Nikolai pathetically walks out—there is no door to his bedroom and he actually does not know where the fuck it is because it has always been that way since he lived here.

So he settles himself on the sagging couch. Nikolai places his arm over his eyes, shutting them close. The clock is ticking, approaching the deadest of the night. And after the trouble he went through today, Nikolai succumbs to his exhaustion—sleep.

But it is hard to fall asleep in this horrible condition he has to live with.

Nikolai stares at the ceiling—the dried paint is peeling off. The ceiling fan is creaking whenever it finishes a circle. Some unknown wires are hanging from the lamp. The fabric of the cushion beneath him is no longer soft and aromatic. He is basically lying on a piece of future garbage.

Despite the miserable fate that has fallen upon him, Nikolai feels quite nostalgic about it. Somehow, this poor condition reminds him of his childhood—or the oldest memories of his past. He was lucky to have a taste of luxury and comfort when he reached the age of twenty—but it was not for long.

After the incident in that prison, he decided to disappear—his mind wandered into a whole tangled mess of confusion and lost. His best friend was just killed. He was supposed to feel liberated, happy, relieved—but instead, he found himself cornered into the dark, again.

You wanted to kill him, didn't you?

Yes, I did.

Err... I didn't...

No... I did.

Remembering that piece of the past feels as if God mocks him.

When he was finally so far away from the scene of the crime—after two years, he almost threw up when the truth was dispensed right in front of his eyes. The sight of his friend being alive and well standing right in front of him after he lamented over that friend's horrible death and his horrible freedom.

You tried to kill me. I'd like to return the favour.

Lovely.

Nikolai should have expected that the Fyodor Dostoyevsky would not be direct when it comes to tormenting.

He did not expect that a whole squadron would besiege him, in an attempt to arrest him. Nikolai knew he could have run away but perhaps the shock of seeing Fyodor got into his head. He felt like he was not real—as if he was watching his body living by itself, without his own mind controlling himself.

For a long while he felt unreal—and he snapped out of it during his second day in prison.

And that was when he realized—he was too doomed.

For six years, he spent his days in prison with whack-ass jackasses. It was fun. Prisoners feared him somehow. But when he almost entered his seventh year in prison, he was released from prison—no parole, no bail. It was weird—as if something, someone, had interfered with the laws in order to get them to be on his side.

Nikolai still does not know who and how, but once again, he became a free man.

Except, he was bombarded with countless misfortunes.

His house, his documents, his treasures, money, relationships, people—everything.

He was arrested with his overcoat, and he got out with it. That is the only thing he still keeps—the only piece of himself that stays since years and years ago.

Nikolai was already on the verge of giving his life up, but he kept going anyway—another determination was brewing and is still going. He wants to find Dostoyevsky and return the favour to him—after all, that man caused Nikolai to get arrested and lose everything.

After all I did for your plans...

Bit by bit, Nikolai is attempting to climb again—he committed paid crimes. He admires those who are in the light of justice, but he is more intrigued with those who are lurking in the shadow of evil—so that is the path he decided to walk on. He knows his way to find people who want to commit injustice but do not have the balls to do so. The pay is always good—he manages to get a humble house for himself and a car within three months. But money is not always static. The money he gets from his crimes is always shared with Viktor, bills, rent and himself.

He needs to be strategic with finance. One wrong move, Fyodor could get him into the deepest hell of poverty. He is already saving money for his trip to St. Petersburg—the first place he wants to go as he believes Fyodor might be there. Nikolai's passport is also seized and Viktor has confirmed to him that he is blacklisted from even applying for one.

But Nikolai believes he can still go through with this vengeance. After this kidnapping is done and you are finally taken by the loansharks, he will get to other jobs and the cycle will repeat, until he can get to St. Petersburg comfortably.

And once he sees Fyodor again, no amount of guilt shall cage his heart—he hopes.

— ♡

Nikolai squirms and groans hoarsely. The couch is hella uncomfortable and it feels like his back was stomped by a crowd of people. He gets up and stretches, yawning while he is at it. He looks at the clock—it is already ten in the morning. He takes out his phone, checking whether there is a new message from Viktor regarding the job. There is one—Viktor just said he will come to Nikolai's place and figure things out together. Somehow he also mentioned that he was excited to meet the kidnapped girl.

And it concerns Nikolai. He does not want Viktor to have his hands on you. Viktor is trustworthy... but only that much. He is not a nice guy to be around—but well, when Nikolai thinks again, he is not a good person to be around too.

Nikolai replies shortly to the message before he gets to his bedroom. He is nervous for some reason but he swallows it as he approaches the room. He enters.

“Oh, shit!”

Nikolai flinches when he sees you are already awake and sitting up straight on the bed, hugging your knees together. Your baby blue appearance made you look like a ghost in this dull house—like a white flower in the middle of an abandoned building.

“Hello...”

What?

Nikolai blinks confusedly. Why are you not thrashing around and struggling and spouting curses at him? He was pretty sure that you saw him when he kidnapped you last night. He frowns—is this a trick? Well, if that is the case, Nikolai is the wrong person you are trying to trick for sure.

“Do you realize the situation you are in right now?” Nikolai interrogates you as he approaches you, grabbing your tied wrists. You flinch at his roughness and yet you are not backing away. Your wrists already have a thin line of bruise due to the tight ribbon. One wrong twist and it makes you wince in pain.

“I asked you a question, girl.”

“M-My name is—”

“I already know your name.”

“Oh...”

Nikolai sighs. “Hey, if you're trying to play nice just to get on my good side, drop it. I know how to detect a liar, alright? Drop it.” He says harshly as he points his finger at you, nudging your head hard. You turn away, using your hands to shield yourself from his assaulting finger on your head.

“I-I didn't mean it...” You say slowly.

“Hey, hey, don't look away,” Nikolai says before he grabs your jaw, turning your head to face him roughly. “You're in my house now, so we have to establish some rules until you get out of here.”

“O-Oh, I'm not staying...?” You ask, almost like a whisper. Nikolai raises his eyebrow—this girl is weird. He shakes your head roughly again.

“Of course you're not staying. Who the fuck you think you are?”

“I-I thought—”

“Well, clearly you don't think smart enough.” He shoves your head away before he stands straight. You whine, rubbing your jaw with the back of your hands—it is hard to move when your ankles and wrists are being tied like this.

“Is it... because of my father?”

“Smart girl! So you can think after all!” Nikolai claps his hands with his mocking voice echoing in the room. “Why, yes, that's exactly why. I think you can catch what's up with your dad already, right? If you want to blame anyone, blame him. I'm just a courier.”

“I don't think this... will work to get to my father though...”

Nikolai shrugs his shoulder. “Okay? And I don't care. You'll be given to the loansharks very soon and that's it for me.” He says. He looks at you, noticing the strange stare you are giving him. Nikolai narrows his eyes, baffled by the calmness you are projecting—he wants to think that you are just trying to be brave, but this silence, this obedience, this calmness... They throw him off.

“Can I go to the toilet?” You suddenly ask.

“What a good girl, huh? Asking permission to go shit.”

“D-Don't say nasty things like that.”

“And who the fuck do you think you are to police my tone, huh?” Nikolai grunts before he unties the rope around your ankles. Then he grabs one of your ankles, gripping it hard. “Don't think of kicking or attacking me. You're not that strong, girlie.” He says. You nod slowly before your eyes waver to your legs, to him and then your tied wrists.

You bring your tied wrists towards him, quietly asking him to untie them. Nikolai looks at you and then your wrists. He internally sighs before he unties the ribbon that is binding you. You wince when you are finally free. Your hands have a ring of darker shade and it stings when you rub it—your hands feel numb and your joints are straining as you try to move your arms.

Before you could even make a stretch to warm up your body, Nikolai yanks your arm, pulling you out of the bed. His grip is strong and hard and he easily drags you out of the bedroom and to the small bathroom located just by the kitchen.

He pushes the door open and then shoves you into the bathroom—small and just enough for one person to occupy it comfortably. Nikolai knows you won't escape easily—his unit is on the sixth floor and even if you could make your body small enough to slip out from the window in the bathroom, you would not know your way out.

“Make it quick.” He says before he pulls the door to close it. However, your hand holds it right before the door connects to the frame. Nikolai turns to you, seeing your adorable eyes staring back at him between the gap.

“T-Thank you for... letting me sleep on your bed... It was the most comfortable sleep I've ever had.”

And you close the door yourself, locking it.

Nikolai is stunned.

Did you just thank him? For letting you sleep on his bed?

He leans right beside the bathroom door, gazing at the worn-out ceiling. Nikolai pinches the bridge of his nose, pursing his lips. He knows something is wrong with this girl he just kidnapped.

He feels like something is going to happen to him too. Nikolai huffs and gets his phone quickly, messaging Viktor so he will come and figure out what to do with you. Especially when you just said that 'this' would not work with your father—whatever that means.

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During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you.

this is def an experimental format!! i got this idea while reading the character letters. in the POV of an unknown interviewer (not reader). reader uses they/them.

🔗⚰️📰🔮❤️‍🩹💉🌪️✂️🍀🩰🔫🪡🤹🧲🦋🐍

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🔗 Ada - "Yes, that's my lover. I would say our relationship falls within the typical scope of that sort of thing. Of course, I believe we share something special, but everyone does when they're in love, don't they?" She covers all her bases in one decisive breath, leaving little room for me to comment.

⚰️ Aesop sits perfectly upright, fingers threaded at his knees. His eyes drift to the side and he seems to begin speaking mid-thought. "I had... cautioned myself not to upset their perception of me," he explains. "But they pried, and stayed, regardless of what they found... For that, I'm grateful."

📰 Alice has kept a sharp eye on me the entire time, but it's at this question that she drops the formalities. "I wasn't aware you would be prying into my personal affairs. Where did you learn that name?" Her frankness pins me in place. For some reason, I end up apologizing.

🔮 Eli can't help a sheepish smile from blooming across his face. "Well, truthfully... I don't use this term lightly, but they might be the love of my life." He has been consistently grounded with his responses, so I'm surprised to catch him flustered, however subtle it is. Personally, I'm touched.

❤️‍🩹 Emil considers for a moment. He doesn't meet me in the eye, instead pinning his gaze on nowhere in particular. A faint smile ghosts his lips. After a while, he answers, simply, "Safe."

💉 Emily's hands are folded neatly on her lap. At the mention of that name, her shoulders tense, but she otherwise maintains her composure. "Someone I trust." Her answer is vague and cautious, but acceptable. I'll try to uncover a deeper meaning behind that 'trust'.

🌪️ Ithaqua - "Mine." He is curt and to the point. Yours? I echo, hoping he'll elaborate. His head tilts to the side, and while I can't see the face behind his mask, a sense of dread suddenly overcomes me. I decide not to press further.

✂️ Jack stretches out his hand of blades, flexing each finger in front of him. I can't deny the cold sweat that drips down my spine just by being in his presence. "May I respond with a question of my own?" he says to me. "Suppose a butterfly loses its way, and winds up caught in a spider's web. Wouldn't you agree that the more it writhes and struggles, the more exhilarated the spider becomes?" I don't have the courage to hear out the rest of this analogy.

🍀 Lucky - "I've always been known as a pretty lucky guy, but the luckiest day of my life was when I met them! I remember it was the—" He drags me down a long-winded story about their life together. I get the idea. Eventually I'm forced to cut him off.

🩰 Margaretha twirls a curl of hair, a meek blush dusting her cheeks. "Have you ever been in love before? You're never prepared for the magic of it all. I feel a new rush with them everyday. I know, realistically, all good things come to an end, so I tried to remind myself to expect the worst, but they've proven over and over that... I'll never feel safer than in their arms." After rambling for some time, a look of surprise flashes across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that. Oh, but I've just never met someone who feels so much like true love before."

🔫 Martha doesn't miss a beat. "Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name." I look down to double-check the name written in her file. Her watchful gaze follows my line of sight. Are you sure? I try. "Must've been some confusion somewhere," she insists. The next day, I realize all my files on her and (Y/N) have gone missing.

🪡 Matthias - "Wh-What?" he starts, but keeps going before I can repeat the question. "Oh, uh, an ally, I guess." Well, I gathered that much. When I press for more details, his head sinks low, fingers grasping at the armrest. "I don't know what they saw in me. Was it out of pity?"

🤹 Mike's eyes light up and he blinds me with a contagious smile. "(Y/N)'s a sneaky one, and I mean it—they've got me under the trickiest spell of all. Guess what happens every time I think about them?" Egged on by his grin, I take the bait. You get lovesick? I guess. Suddenly, he tosses a handful of butterfly glitter in my face. "I get butterflies!" Very funny, I sigh, exasperated with these carnies. Why did he have that on hand in the first place?

🧲 Norton leans back in his chair, scowling. "What's that got to do with anything?" He snaps a couple times in my face, urging me to "stay on topic." It's hard to say if this question struck a nerve, as he's been uncooperative for most of this interview, but my suspicions point me to prod further. After all, it'd have been much easier if he just said he didn't know them.

🦋 Vera's face contorts into a leery, hostile glower. "Why do you ask that?" Before I can say anything to mitigate the rising tension, she catches herself, and her expression softens slightly. "I'm sorry. That's... someone quite dear to me, so your question took me by surprise."

🐍 Yidhra's follower goes pale, clearly unnerved. "She won't answer that," she tells me through shallow breaths. "Th-This isn't my place to say, but I'd advise you not to involve yourself with that person." As if on cue, I get a sensation I can only describe as a hand slowly wrapping around my neck. It disappears when I move to scratch it. Must've been my imagination.

WHERE WINTER CROWS GO MENTIONED OMGGGGGG🗣️🗣️🎤🗣️🗣️🎤🎤🎤⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

📑The games appearing inside (in clockwise order)📑

▸the kid at the back ▸Mushroom Oasis ▸文字化化 ▸14 Days With You ▸A DOUBLE SIDED MIRROR ▸Our Life Beginnings & Always ▸Where Winter Crows Go ▸Duality ▸Error143 ▸A Date with Death ▸MonsterxMediator

Thank you very much for the existence of these games; they have healed my soul (´-ωก`)

good afternoon anhane nation 💥

coloured this page from chapter 11