Now you were standing in the midst of a crowd of fancy suits and dresses, in shoes that pinch your heels every single step you tried to take, clutching the thin neck of the wineglass of a drink forced into your hands.
The cloying stench of cigarettes wafted throughout the air, making you nauseous. Hell, you could taste the foul bile lapping at the back of your mouth, the acidic taste stinging your throat something awful. Hugging your arms closer to your body, your lips purse into a tight line.
You weren’t supposed to be here. Even from a distance, you could make out the budge of firearms under blazers, hear the whispers of deals done at the dead of night. This was a den of snakes, of people who’ve made a living for themselves out of criminal means.
These people have killed, backstabbed, and lied their way to power. You were just a lowly worker at a cafe. You didn’t belong here.
Based on the way gazes seem to linger and bore into you, the rest of the crowd didn’t think so either.
Clutching your cup tighter, you ease through the crowd slowly, muttering flustered apologises to the people you push aside. Praying that they didn’t get pissed enough to empty their bullets into your own skull. Slipping through the crowd, you heave a sigh of relief when you reach the edge of the grand hall. Some sort of gala this was. With the threat of death hanging above you, you couldn’t even enjoy any of the refreshments provided.
Pressing your back against the wall, you pat the solid surface appreciatively. At least something had your back, unlike the Schmuck who invited you here and dipped. He was so very desperate then, clutching your hands and pleading for you to come.
He didn’t have a partner to attend this gala, and didn’t want to be a laughing stock. You agreed then, out of pity… and ok, maybe the menu he showed you managed to win you over a little more than that. However, he neglected to mention that this gala was attended only by the finest members of the mafia.
That’s a rather big thing to just casually forget to mention! Nibbling on your lower lip, you resolve to chew him out the moment you find him. Great Seven, what made that idiot think that bringing a civilian here was a good idea?
While you were sighing to yourself, you failed to notice the sound of footsteps coming closer and closer to you. A steady rhythm against the ground, closing onto you. A shadow is cast over your form. Frowning ever so slightly, you glance upwards, only to come face to face with a man you’ve never seen before.
He strokes his chin, before stretching out his arm to lean against the wall. Trapping you between the hall’s wall and his imposing build. Gulping nervously, you stare up at him before forcing out a smile. The sort of smile you reserve for customer service.
“H… how may I help you, sir?”
The man only chuckles, the stink of alcohol apparent in his breath. You resist the urge to fan the fumes away, before slowly shuffling to the side, determined to escape this strange man.
Only to have grab your wrist in a tight hold, his pudgy fingers squeezing tight against your flesh, pressing against your bone-
“Oi, where are ya going? Such a sweet thing, all alone…”
He hiccups, before licking his lips in sickening anticipation.
“You’re gonna tempt someone bad, y’know? Or maybe that’s what you wanted, huh? Want my attention, huh-“
The man didn’t even get to finish his sentence before his face went flying across the floor. A fist collided with his cheek with all the force of a rocket, sending your assailant crashing onto the ground with a thundering thud.
Great Seven, you’ve never been so happy to see that mop of indigo hair. Once styled nicely with gel, strands of it now stuck out due to the excessive speed he had rushed over. Rushing over, you throw your hands up enthusiastically, crying out his name happily:
“Deuce Spade!”
He stood there, heaving and panting. Eyes focused on the immobile stranger, ready to spring into action if he rose up again. Fists clenched, shoulders tight with tension. His hair was tousled up, his collar was yanked out somehow, both ends flopping like a pair of puppy ears. His shirt was unbuttoned, his attire was unkept… as if he ran through the crowd just to save you.
Man, you could kiss him right now. Dashing towards him, you throw yourself quite literally into his arms. From that instant, Deuce went from a perfectly poised machine from battle into the same old Deuce you’ve always seen eating fluffy pancakes at the cafe. He stumbles back a little, body frozen with shock. But he doesn’t drop you, not even for a second.
His arms awkwardly waving around, before they come to a rest on your back. Holding you, embracing you like one would do with a lover. A soft, tender act. However, that moment only lasts a little while, before Deuce’s arms lift you up. Slinging you over his shoulder like a potato sack.
Yelping in surprise, you beat his back frantically, body wobbling, trying to balance in its new position. Turning around the best you could, you yell at Deuce:
“What the hell?”
He glances at you, before a sheepish grin spreads across his lips. That smile you’ve fallen in love with the moment you saw it. A toothy, warm sort of boyish smile that just made your heart melt into a gooey mess.
“The dude I punched… well, he’s the boss of a rival group.”
Deuce crouches down, getting into a sprinting position.
“And if we don’t take our leave, we’re gonna’ be caught in a shootout.”
He pauses, before a faint pink spreads across his cheeks.
“And I don’t want your nice clothes to get dirty… you do look… very nice today.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing! Let’s go!”
With those final words, you were left to clutch at Deuce’s blazer with all your might as he dodged and weaved through the crowd, running as fast as he could amid all the chaos and violence. Heck, both of you always find yourselves running in the end, huh?
But… you couldn’t think of someone else you would rather run away with.
Happy Halloween! Are you ready for the Killer Chat! Halloween Special? ;)
HOW DO SERIAL KILLERS SPEND HALLOWEEN?
TOGETHER... OF COURSE.
It's October 31st, 2023. Angel's overworking herself when Ronin knock-knock-knocks his crowbar against her door. V's landed in Japan for a charity event and Misaki is begging him to meet them for real.
Whatever happens... no one's dying tonight. Right?
It's bound to be a special Halloween.
FEATURING...
Two original short stories about the Killer Chat main cast and their Halloween!
Two beautiful art pieces by Killer Chat's CG artist @munstxr illustrating the story's events... featuring the serial killers in costume!
MADE BY...
rosesrot - Writer
munstxr - Artist
This book is a DLC of Killer Chat!, a dating sim where you date serial killers on the dark web!
imagine Skully and Yuu only being able to meet once a year on Halloween, each and every year Yuu spends as a student of NRC they never fail to meet him at the gravesite of Ramshackle. Skully sits there waiting and waiting until he sees Yuu approaching, even after they've left to return to their homeworld, he has hopes that they'll come back for one more Halloween night with him
Random compilation of that scattered clothes meme thing I did with twst characters, but with just the outfits I kinda liked from both attempts. And yes, I don’t have any sense whatsoever 😉 Rip to the ones that were originally too small so now their resolution suffers horribly lmao that’s my bad 🤡 480p ahh art
“Oh man oh man oh man I’m so frigging screwed,” Ace thinks as he makes a run for it. Fellow’s chasing him, shouting about having his revenge. “The hell did you do this time?!” Deuce asks. “Nothing much,” Ace says but they both know he’s lying.
So tell me, do you wanna go?
If you had asked a NRC student—any NRC student—what they thought they’d be hearing early on a Monday, it most certainly would not be an grown-ass man aggressively beefing with a teenager. Yet here it was, the entire ridiculous scene unfolding in the courtyard. Their shouts echoed in the open corridors, an alarm sounding in the morning.
"You're dead, Trappola! You hear me?! DEAD!!" Fellow bellowed. His face was contorted with fury, his pupils dilated. “When I get my hands on you, I’m throwing you down a damn well!!”
“Crap, he’s gaining fast! Can’t talk right now, Deuce! Catch ‘cha later!!” Ace saluted to his friend, then made a run for it.
“Wait, what did you do to piss him off…” Deuce’s question trailed off, incomplete. Ace was already long gone.
Fellow blitzed by. The beastman was still steaming mad, his bushy tail bristling.
That was when Deuce saw it.
A was big wad of chewed up bubblegum stuck to his Fellow’s tail. Sticky, sweet trouble.
Fellow dove into his suit pocket and chucked a crumpled paper at Ace’s head. He ducked, it missed and sailed into a wall, ricocheting back onto the grassy lawn.
“Wow, what was with that weak arm?” Ace called back, sticking out his tongue. “You gotta try harder than that to catch me, gramps~”
“GRRRRRR!!! Keep talking like an ass I swear to the Seven I’ll make you into one!”
“Ooh, I’m sooo scared! You and what army, exactly?
Their taunts, never-ending, continued around and around the courtyard. Whatever projectiles Fellow cast at Ace, they were easily forgotten in favor of another insult, another slight.
Deuce, curious, bent to retrieve the ball Fellow had thrown. He unfolded the page, smoothing it out as best he could. (It was a little difficult, given that there was also a piece of tape sticking it together.) KICK ME, the paper read.
It clicked. Not one, but two pranks—then trying to dodge responsibility for them, taunting his victim.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Deuce crushed the page back into a ball. “I’m starting to think Ace deserves this…”
i just noticed on your 'yuu gets sold' sorta series that there was a good ending, by chance could you do a bad ending one? if not that's totally ok! keep safe and stay healthy ❤️
oh god. I have a very evil idea for this.
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim
summary: a bad (or good, depending on your stance) ending
type of post: short fic
characters: surprise :)
additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is short, HELP
Everyone waits.
The chatter and banter which once occupied the courtyard dies down to dull whispers and foot tapping.
Everyone waits, and there's no Crowley.
"Wonderful," Jamil sighs. "He's probably taken all the money and run off. I told you all that-"
"Maybe he's late!" Kalim shouts. A few in the crowd murmur in hopeful agreement.
Silver coughs. "Maybe he realized this whole thing is ridiculous and is processing everyone's refunds,"
They don't like that option as much.
The sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, threatening to shroud everyone in darkness as the minutes tick on.
"Well, I've had enough of this," Vil says, turning towards the exit. "I've put off my afternoon long enough."
"For once, we can agree on something," Leona murmurs, dragging Ruggie along with him.
No one is exactly surprised with this turn of events- but there's a definite sense of disappointment that everyone is sharing.
"He probably just forgot or 'somethin," Epel says, walking alongside Ace, Deuce, and Jack back to Ramshackle to update you on the happenings.
Jack shrugs. "He's definitely not the most organized, but there's no way someone could just "forget" about this. I think Jamil is right, he probably ran off with the money while he could. The swindler..."
Deuce is the next to add something to the pity party. "And yet, we should've known this was a possibility,"
"Shoulda seen it coming..." Epel murmurs. "I shoulda listened to Vil and pulled out while I still had the chance. Dang it..."
The lights are on in Ramshackle as the four approach, a warm and welcome sight after their disappointing afternoon. And the front door is open- were you expecting them?
"Hm. Well, think of it this way," Ace pushes the door the rest of the way open. "We may have been scammed, but at least nothing changes. I mean, it could've been worse."
"A lot worse," Deuce murmurs, following him inside.
The four make it into the foyer and stop dead in their tracks.
There are many things to expect walking into Ramshackle- cobwebs, dust, ghosts, you- Crowley is usually not one of them.
"You- you've been here this whole time?!" Epel shouts, throwing his arms out. "We were all 'waitin for 'ya like a bunch of idjits!"
Deuce and Ace wince. "Dude, chill... but seriously, where were you?"
Crowley doesn't have the chance to answer before something else steals away their attention.
You walk into the room, suitcase in hand. "Guys?"
The four turn to greet you, eyes wide at the luggage you're carrying. "What's that... Crowley?"
The man himself just stands there, pretending to ponder something. "I could have sworn I sent someone to break the news... how peculiar,"
Epel's brow knots. "What news?"
"A third party somehow got wind of our little... venture and donated a very high sum at the last minute. Along with a very passionately worded letter about our dear prefect's safety here at school," he pauses. "Or lack thereof."
Crowley sighs. "The name rung a bell, but... I couldn't imagine how or why anyone outside of NRC would be following the prefect's moves so closely,"
Deuce's eyes narrow. "Crowley. What are you trying to say?"
"Well, I..." he says, seemingly at a loss for words. "I'm afraid to say that our prefect is being transferred to Noble Bell College,"
WC 0.3K. no warnings. tbh just a short ramble about how the wanderer smiles :3
indubitably, the kabukimono’s smiles were reminiscent of a child’s. they’re wide and toothy and bubbly, and all too large for his face. the kabukimono smiled so brightly you could hardly see his eyes.
there were the shy smiles too. the ones where he glances away and hides his face, chewing on his bottom lip to bite back a beam.
he hadn’t been restrained with his smiles then. why would a child have to be?
then, he changes, and scaramouche only smirked, never did he smile. they’re sharp as a dagger, vicious and unkind. scaramouche was cruel and merciless, and his smiles were just the same. he didn’t have much of a reason to smile anymore, did he?
of course, there were the smug ones too, the prideful and self-satisfied grins as he gloated and boasted. yet those, however joyful, were no less jaded and malign.
then, he changes once more.
the wanderer is sparing with his smiles, now. they’re gentler, more reserved, and awkward in the way that screams he’s long forgotten how. still, he smiles with the ease of a person who’s free.
his smirks are now teasing but his grins are still smug, and though he doesn’t hide his face, just as the kabukimono once did, he bites back his smile just the same.
then, he finds you.
he’s scowling at you now, rolling his eyes. you’re laughing, clutching your stomach as you do, nearly doubled over in a fit. your eyes glitter with mirth, grin stretched wide. despite himself, his gaze can’t help but trace the curl of your lashes, the shape of your lips.
but for now, he pushes those thoughts aside.
“quit laughing at me,” he huffs, and there is no edge to his tone at all. on the contrary, something in him softens. then softens once more. “what’s so funny?”
a smile tugs at his lips then, uncharacteristically warm and awfully sweet. he has to glance away.
you answer him with a quip of your own there, but truthfully, he doesn’t quite catch what you say.
he only remembers realizing that smiles could be fond too.
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