|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
stained [yandere!norwayxreaderxyandere!iceland](2)Lukas got to your house, knocking on the door the second he stepped foot on your porch. "[Name], It's me."
He heard no reply, so he knocked again. "[Name], answer the door! I know you're home."
Still no reply.
Lukas let out a frustrated sigh and bent over, lifting up your doormat and pulling a spare key from underneath it. Of course, you didn't tell him where it was. He figured it out himself. He slid the key in the keyhole, feeling tension and suspense rise. He turned
the key and knob, opening the door and stepping inside.
"I told you not to let him come over!" You wince at Emil's harsh tone, feeling like you did something wrong when you didn't. Lukas invited himself over without you having any chance to respond. "He's going to come between us!"
Anger boiled within Lukas has he heard Emil's fit towards you. You were his not Emil's! He walked into the living room, sending immediate relief to your face. Hopefully Lukas could calm his little broth
stained [yandere!norwayxreaderxyandere!iceland](4)The impact of the scissors never came and you heard the cling of what sounded like metal colliding against each other. Your eyes shot open to find Emil standing in front of you, a pocket knife in hand. You were saved...?
"I won't let you touch [Name]." Emil barked harshly, pushing the knife forward against the scissors making them fall to the ground. "She's mine."
"So you're going to kill me like you did Matthew?" Lukas responded, his lips curving into a victorious smirk.
What did he just say? You took a step back and held back the tears, Emil killed Matthew? No, that can't be true. You couldn't believe it. "I-Is that true... Emil?"
Emil turned his head towards you, the knife still pointed at Lukas, and sent you a small smile. "Yes, it is. But, I had to kill him. He was coming in between...us. He was in the way."
Your mind went blurry and you got up off the couch, pushing the blanket off you in the process and made a dash to your phone. You picked it up and began dialing f
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
Keep in Touch!