Behind The Scenes Of That One Skk Official Art:

Dazai pissed Chuuya off again (the little girl's name is Yūko if anyone wants to know <3)

WISC -Wolf In Sheep's Clothing -Story

-Synopsis -Prolog

WISC -Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

Synopsis:

In a world with humans and magical creatures, all is not well. A war is on the rise and rapidly approaching between 2 major sides: 1. The humans and creatures that want to live together peacefully and 2. The humans that want to exterminate all magical creatures.  

On the side for magical creatures is a corrupt group that is growing in size undetected—those who want to use the creatures, to experiment and turn them into pets, weapons, items. This is who Dracodas is growing up around—a dragon locked in a cage to be turned into a weapon for the war. He doesn’t remember how he ended up with them, but they have always been there to make sure he was still alive, so… they’re family, right? 

⭐️senior year sucks⭐️

Henry Bowers x FEM!Reader

Chapter summery: you deal with Henry and his wounds. As the night grows later, the heart grows fonder.

Word count: 3,015

Estimated read time: 14 min

A/N: please read my important update on my page if you haven’t already

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Chapter 6

I won’t tell if you won’t

You get to the house gate and gently open it before ushering Henry to walk to the front door while you lock the gate. After a second of locking you jog over and meet him on the porch.

“Kevin is asleep, so keep your fucking mouth shut till I say so” you remark as you put your hand on the handle.

“Why? Don’t want your boyfriend to see you with another guy” Henry growled.

“I’m not even responding to that bullshit anymore dude.”You roll your eyes and take his hand again before opening the door. Henry follows you inside and you drag him up the stairs quietly. Once in your room you shut the door and take a towel from the hamper and shove it against the bottom part of your door to keep your voices from carrying.

“Sit down while I get everything.” You say kindly.

“Fuck you. Why did you even bring me up here?” You can see even as he speaks with hatred he’s still shaking. You hated to say it but as much as he was annoying you, you felt bad for him.

“Can you just fucking cooperate for 2 fucking seconds, Henry?” As you snap at him, killer stirs from his slumber on the bed. He growls lowly at Henry. You snap your fingers while your back is turned to the 2 of them and killer immediately softens. You pick up everything Kevin got you from the pharmacy. In retrospect you are kinda glad you were there for the fight. Otherwise you wouldn’t have had everything you needed to fix him up. You drop everything onto the bed and stand before Henry as he sits on the edge of the bed.

You look at him expectantly but he just glares at you.

“If I ask you to do something will you do it or will I have to do it myself?” You ask. You become aware of the fact you feel completely exposed. You are only in shorts and a short sleeve big shirt. Your tattoo is on full display. Your arm is on full display.

Henry grunts and you take that as a, “no I won't be helpful for 2 seconds so you can do something nice, even though I literally beat the tar out of you”

You reach out to him and he flinches. You still, then try again but slower. You take your robe off his shoulders and drop it to the floor beside the bed. You have to ask him to do something you really don’t want to. You have to ask him for something you know he will fight you on.

“Henry,” you state and his eyes don’t falter from yours. “I need you to take off your shirt” again without removing his eyes from yours in a steady glare he says.

“Fuck. You.”

You click your tongue. “Tu padre.” You snap back. “Either you take it off or I will. !” You just need him to stop being so fucking difficult.

Finally. His eyes move from yours to the floor as he stands. He turns around slowly and begins to shake harder. Is he scared? Embarrassed? What’s wrong? You find out what's wrong as he lifts up his shirt with his back turned to you. He’s covered in scars. Fresh cuts litter his skin along with bruises. Some look years old, some weeks, and some not even an hour ago. Long discolored marks across his back stand out against his tan skin.

He has a fresh(ish) cigarette burn on his back, maybe from a day ago? Who cares when it was from? It still looked painful. You pick up the Bactine spray and the cotton pads. You place a flat palm to the unharmed part of his back and he flinches. He’s still shaking like crazy. His skin is so warm and he smells like cigarettes, rain, and fire. You love the smell. If you could put it in a candle you would.

“This is gonna sting like a bitch.” You warn softly and he nods.

“Just fucking get it over with.”

So you do. You take the spray and do 1 spray on each individual cut and burn including the one on his neck (which was a little harder to get because he’s so much taller than you, and he was doing you no favors). Once you sprayed them you cleaned them with the cotton pads and covered them with bandages. Once you finish the cuts you lean down beside him to grab the bruise cream. You swear, that out of the corner of your eye, you say Henry bowers with tears on his face. You make no comment, you put the cream on your fingers and rub it into the bruises. New or old. You didn’t care, you wanted to help him heal faster.

“Henry…” you say as gently as possible. “Turn around.”

You could see from his back that there was bruising on his ribs and you needed to not only apply medicine but also make sure nothing was broken.

“No.”

“Henry please. Your ribs could be broken just turn around.”

“I said. Fuck. No.”

“He-“ you were cut off by his arm coming back to hit you. You tried to grab it and it caused a struggle. Eventually after some fighting you flipped Henry around and pinned him to your bed. You didn’t want to hurt him but you didn’t know what to do. You sat on his hips and released his arms. They immediately went to hide his face. You pick the cream back up and gently rub it in. After you finish you gently press 2 fingers around the bruise.

“Does it hurt here?”

“No..”

“How about here”

“…” no reply, you guess that means a little. You press one more time to the darkest part of the bruise and ask again.

“Here?”

He hissed in pain as a reply. He has 1 broken rib and you think 2 bruised ribs.

“You have a broken rib and a couple bruised ones, if you ice them and don’t terrorize people for a few weeks you should be fine. No need for a hospital.”

He scoffs at you and pushes you off him. He stands to put his shirt back on. Wincing as he reached down then put his arms above his head to get it back on.

“Sorry about throwing dirt at you.” You snort. He didn’t seem to find it as funny as he sat back down on the bed beside Killer who was out like a light again .

“If you want I can turn on a movie and you can leave when you feel better?”

“I don’t want your fuckin pity.” He hissed.

“It’s not pity, it’s worry. And judging by the fact you ran into my shed, I’d say you don’t have anywhere else to go. Why not put up with me for a few hours until you feel better?” god talking to him was infuriating.

He didn’t reply to your comment, he just looked at your tattoo.

“When’d ya get that?”

“2 years ago”

“Why do you hide it at school?”

“The people in this town are major fuckin judge boats and I don’t need anyone having an opinion on something that is special to me” you deadpan.

He snorts “you got that fuckin right.” He agrees. He looks over to killer on the bed and questions, “what kind of a fuckin name is killer?”

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this situation. Henry Bowers, on your bed, asking about your weird ass dog.

You tell him the story and notice he’s shaking a little less. “When I was like 8 I told Kevin while he was babysitting me and Issac that if I ever had a big scary dog, I’d name it killer because I think it’s a cute name and everyone else would find it soooo scary” you mock yourself. “So when Kev got him for me a year ago he just named him that.”

He thinks for a second, smiling a little at the story.

“Issac?” He questions.

“He was my best friend growing up. Died a few years ago from cancer. That’s when Kevin moved here” you felt like every time the 2 of you exchanged words the less he shook and the more relaxed you both became.

There was still blood on his face but you dared not ask him to clean it. You already pushed him so far tonight.

“You need any food?” You inquired.

“Fuck yes. I’m starving.” He groans. You liked him like this. Relaxed. Not being a dick. You can’t deny you found him extremely attractive.

Oh shit.

You like Henry Bowers.

The boy who fucking terrorizes your friends. The boy who gave you a black eye when you tried to help him. The boy you are currently sneaking into the kitchen with for some late night food. You have a huge crush. On Henry fucking Bowers. You turn on the light to the kitchen while you and Henry scavenge. You whisper to him to “take anything you like” after some fumbling around in the cupboard you drop a plastic container of cookies on the floor with a loud “THUD”.

You and henry freeze. Looking at each other with fear that you woke up Kevin. As if on cue you hear Kevin’s grumble from his room.

“______?” Your name comes to your ears through the door.

“Yeah? I’m just getting some food.” You look to Henry in panic and he’s just as lost as you.

“Okay big back. Stop makin so much fuckin noise” Kevin calls then goes back to bed.

You snort and Henry almost dies trying to hold in a laugh. Only your best friend would call you a big back while half asleep.

You and Henry finish getting some food and make your way back up the stairs. You sit on the bed together and turn on some stupid ass movie that you really aren’t paying attention to. The pair of you just talk.

“Bev told me you weren’t at school the rest of the day. You ditch?” He stiffened then relaxed.

“I lost my dads knife while we were chasing after you and those losers. Spent the rest of the day looking for it and never found it. Got home a little over an hour ago hoping my dad would be asleep. He wasn’t. The school called him about me ditching and he was pissed. Then he asked for the knife I took from him and he got even more pissed….” He trails of sadly.

You put 2 and 2 together. Henry’s dad hits him. You frown at the realization and really just want to give him a hug. He dosnt deserve that, sure he’s a fuckin prick most of the time, but you think that’s only a product of his dad hitting him.

Henry clears his throat before asking you a question to switch topics.

“So.. why’d you move here, with this guy?”

“That, my friend, is a long sad story I’m sure you don’t wanna hear.” You chuckle.

He leans back and props himself on his elbows on your bed. “Humor me.” He stated.

Fuck he was so attractive. This was not a crush you would be beating.

You sigh. Starting the story. “I have no idea where my parents are. They were the worst people ever. I tried to get the law involved multiple times to get out of that house but they didn’t help…” should you be telling Henry this? What if he tells someone else? Fuck. Here goes. “Both my parents abused me. My dad sexually abused me for years. And my mom beat me until I was blue. Eventually they started getting worse. Broken arms with no hospital visit to fix it. A concussion with no help.”

“One day I called Kevin and told him to get me out of there. He said he would book me a plane ticket if I could legally leave and they would not try anything. He didn’t want to get in trouble for harboring a runaway. I took emancipation papers to my mom and she beat the fuck out of me… she broke my phone knowing that was the only way I could talk to Kevin. When she was done she kicked me out. I didn’t have any friends and nowhere to go. So for three weeks I was completely homeless. The day I turned 18 I went back to the house. I took a sheriff with me to throw all my clothes and shit that I bought, with my own money in trash bags and I was allowed to stay at a shelter for a few days while I legitimately packed and got a hold of Kevin. He booked me the ticket and here I am. He told me I could stay here as long as I want.” You played with your hands in your lap and didn’t look at Henry.

You were scared of what he would say. What does he think of you? You finally get the courage to look up and he’s staring at you with these eyes? Confusion? Hurt maybe? You aren’t sure. You take the pressure off him answering and change the topic.

“Does all this mean you’ll be nice to me at school now?” You ask jokingly. You can tell he appreciates the subject change and snorts at the question.

“Fuck no. We aren’t friends. We just live next to each other” he rolls his eyes like that’s such an obvious answer. You belly laugh at it.

As the night goes on you continue to talk. You look at him as he focuses on the tv. You touch his arm and get his attention. He looks back to you and you feel your heart well up.

“If you ever need anything, text me ok?” You give him your phone to put in his number. Without a word he enters the number and sends himself a text. You know he won’t ever text you that he’s hurt or sad. But giving him the option of it makes you feel better.

You look at the clock and see it’s almost midnight, Henry notices and begins to stand.

“You going?”

“Yeah. My dad should be asleep by now.”

“Okay” you gently smile at him. “Make sure you lock the gates on your way out.”

“No need. I'll hop ‘em.”

You glare at him. “You better fucking not! You need to lay off that broken rib”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Fine. Your fucking highness. Bye” and as quickly as he ran across your property. He went.

You shut off the tv and clean your bed off before getting cozy. You knew tomorrow would be ok. You understood that you and Henry had an unspoken understanding of ‘I won’t say anything if you won’t’. And you wouldn’t. He wouldn’t tell anyone about your tattoo. And you wouldn't tell anyone he was in your shed tonight.

You cozy up under the covers with killer, who had unsurprisingly stayed asleep that entire time. It was a pretty good night. But what in the world were you supposed to do with this crush you had on the infamous Henry Bowers?

While you fell asleep Henry walked home. He was right. His dad was passed out. On a throne of beer bottles in the living room. Henry walked to his room and went to his mirror. He dosnt know why… but he takes his shirt off. Once his shirt hits the grounds he takes a look at the bandages you dressed him with on his torso and neck. Then he turns around and looks at his back. He sniffs out a gentle laugh as he sees that On the cigarette burn that was in the middle of his back on the left side, is a little pink Sesame Street band aid. The only “fun” bandage. All the other ones were beige.

All his cuts and bruises are dressed and covered in eithe ointment or a bandage. Even the old bruises that were almost healed has cream on them. He bends down to pick up his shirt and winces at his broken rib. He throws the shirt on his bed and walks to his bathroom to look in the mirror. All the blood from his busted eyebrow had dried and was a bitch to wash off. He dries his face and walks to his room. He locks his door before removing his pants. He down slowly in his bed trying not to irritate hide ribs and back. Clad in only his boxers he thinks about you.

He was fucking awful to you and he knew it. He saw the bruises on your arm and face in his mind and cringed. You were so caring for no reason. There was no reason in the world that he could have given to you to gain your help. But you did. You calmed him. Fed him. And even fixed him up. He dosnt know if you told him that story about your parents because of what he told you or not. He didn’t care though. He liked knowing, he felt like knowing about your past made him special. Though he’d never admit that.

A thought flashed through his mind that made him angry. ‘Maybe i hate her because she’s me, but better?’. That idea confused him. You had gone through abuse your whole life. Just as he had. But you were happy. You were free. You had someone who was willing to take you. He dosn’t find it fair that 2 people can go through the same thing and one can still end up better than the other. How was that possible?

He switches topics in his mind. You let him see you today. He saw your personality, your smile, your tattoo. He liked that at multiple points in the night, that bright smile was directed at him and things he said. Your laughter made his stomach hurt. Maybe he was getting sick? He didn’t say anything. But while you were laying on the bed, he looked at your tattoo arm. He saw a few small scars here and there. He wanted to know the story of every fucking mark. He couldn’t tell any of the others about you. He always kept his fellings private. And right now his curiosity of you was growing and mutating, but he didn’t know into what.

He thought of you and while he slipped into calm dreams. Dreams of your laugh. Dreams of you at the record store. Dreams of just, you

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Hope you enjoyed!

@amber-sekio new chapter!

Hunger.

Sea au Kouyou for @yebyyhfushi !!! Thank you for letting me do her design!! 💥💥

Be careful...they bite

He's definitely friend material

Kitty

I smiled like an idiot during my class when I saw this notification come through

Lovely, again 10/10

Another idea, 15!Chuuya who just joined the Port Mafia having his first crush on reader

I can imagine him going to Kouyou to ask for advice 🤭

Like, reader likes him back but still lets him stumble over his words cause it's cute

I feel like I'm not as good at writing Chuuya so I enjoy reading fics for him and you're good at writing him

Man i love your ideas sm and thanks for the compliment!

15!Chuuya x reader

“Beneath the Surface”

Chuuya Nakahara wasn’t new to fights. He wasn’t new to blood, danger, or the haunting, suffocating feeling of Corruption simmering beneath his skin, a constant reminder of the power he could barely control. But this? This was new. This twisting in his chest, this irritation crawling under his skin every time he looked at you. The way his pulse quickened, how his words fumbled out in a mess when you were near.

He had never felt this powerless before.

And the worst part? You seemed to enjoy it.

“Oi, Chuuya, you zoning out or what?” your voice cut through his thoughts like a blade, the familiar teasing lilt making his eye twitch.

The two of you were standing outside, waiting for orders after a routine mission. His heart was still thudding hard from the adrenaline, but the moment you leaned against the wall next to him, all nonchalant and relaxed, his throat went dry. You flashed him that infuriating grin, the one that sent his mind spinning for reasons he didn’t want to admit.

“Zoning out? I ain’t—” Chuuya cleared his throat, fighting to keep his voice steady, “I’m not zoning out. Maybe you’re the one who can’t stay focused.”

You chuckled softly, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “Is that so?”

Chuuya hated how easily you could make him feel small, like you saw right through him — like you knew what he was feeling before he could even make sense of it. And the worst part? You always seemed to enjoy teasing him, watching him stumble over his words or get flustered.

He should’ve been able to handle it. He was Chuuya Nakahara, damn it — future executive of the Port Mafia. But around you, he felt like he was all fists and rage, without the cool confidence he usually carried.

You shrugged casually, pushing yourself off the wall and stepping a little closer to him. “You sure? You’ve been pretty distracted lately. Almost like something’s on your mind.” There was that tone again, the one that hinted you knew. And damn it, you probably did.

He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on anything else. “There’s nothin’ on my mind, alright? You’re imagining things.”

But even he knew that wasn’t true.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

The crush had started small, barely noticeable at first. You were one of the few who treated him like he was your equal, despite him being new to the Mafia. You were sharp, quick with your words, and had a mind that could cut through even the thickest of tensions. Chuuya respected that. But at some point, the respect shifted, and he found himself watching you in ways he hadn’t before.

It was the way you laughed, soft but with an edge that always left him wondering what you were thinking. The way your smile, so full of mischief, made something twist uncomfortably in his chest. And the way you always seemed too calm — as if you never took anything seriously, and yet still managed to outsmart everyone around you.

One time, after a sparring match where he’d barely managed to keep his cool, you leaned over, offering him a hand with a smirk. “Good effort, Nakahara.”

His blood boiled at the patronizing tone. “Tch. I don’t need your pity.”

But your teasing grin never faltered. “Relax, Chuuya. You’ll get better.”

Better? The audacity. But his heart still raced from the lightness in your voice, from the way you spoke his name like it was some private joke only you understood.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Days passed, and the frustration gnawed at him. It wasn’t just your teasing that got to him anymore; it was everything about you. Your smirk, your laugh, the way you looked at him like he was both amusing and… something more. It was unbearable.

Chuuya prided himself on not needing help. But with you? He didn’t know what to do. How could he, when every time he tried to talk to you seriously, he ended up stumbling over his words like some awkward kid?

And so, in desperation — and no small amount of embarrassment — Chuuya found himself standing in front of Kouyou’s quarters, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The moonlight cast a soft glow over the hallway, and the sounds of the night echoed faintly in the distance.

Kouyou opened the door, raising a delicate eyebrow at the sight of him. “Chuuya. It’s late. What brings you here?”

Chuuya swallowed his pride, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I, uh… I need some advice.”

Kouyou’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Ah. I see.” She stepped aside, allowing him into the room. “Have a seat. This seems… personal.”

He scowled, feeling his face flush. “It’s not personal,” he lied. “It’s just—there’s someone, okay? Someone in the Mafia who keeps messing with me, and I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Kouyou folded her hands in her lap, regarding him with her usual calm gaze. “Messing with you, how?”

“They’re always teasing me,” Chuuya muttered, staring down at the floor, “and it’s like they know what I’m thinking before I even say it. It pisses me off.”

Kouyou chuckled softly. “And yet, you find yourself drawn to them, don’t you?”

Chuuya clenched his fists, frustrated. “Yeah, but it’s… different. I don’t get it. Why can’t I just talk to them like a normal person?”

Kouyou’s smile was gentle, almost amused. “You’ve never been one for subtlety, Chuuya. But from what you’ve described, it sounds like this person enjoys your company. Have you considered that their teasing might be… affectionate?”

Chuuya blinked, staring at her in disbelief. “Affectionate? You’re kidding, right? They’re always messing with me.”

Kouyou laughed softly, a sound that both soothed and irritated him. “Some people express their feelings through playfulness, especially when they know it affects the other person. It sounds to me like they enjoy seeing your reactions. And judging by how flustered you are, it’s working.”

Chuuya flushed a deeper red, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “So what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t just… I dunno, keep letting them mess with me.”

Kouyou’s expression softened. “Perhaps you should stop focusing on how to ‘win’ against them and instead consider how you truly feel. Do you want them to stop? Or is there something more?”

Chuuya went silent, Kouyou’s words echoing in his mind. Something more? He’d never considered it like that before. But maybe… maybe there was something more. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad after all.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Chuuya clenched his fists, struggling to steady his breath. The weight of Kouyou's advice pressed heavy on his chest. Now was the moment—he’d either crumble or finally get the words out.

“I-I’m not here to fight,” he muttered, his voice betraying him with a slight stutter. He winced internally at his own nerves.

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk deepening with that ever-present teasing glint in your eyes. “Oh? That’s a surprise. So what’s on your mind, Chuuya?”

His throat felt tight, but he pressed on, stepping closer, his heart thundering against his ribs. “You.” His voice cracked slightly, and he quickly clenched his jaw to steady himself. “Y-You’re always on my mind, dammit.”

The smirk on your lips softened, but the amusement never fully disappeared. You tilted your head, a playful flicker in your gaze. “Is that so? How bold of you.”

Chuuya’s cheeks flushed, his frustration mixing with embarrassment. Why was this so difficult? He was a Port Mafia member, strong, unshakable, and here he was fumbling over his words like an idiot. He took another step forward, his fists clenched tight by his sides.

“Yeah, i-it’s true. And I… I’m tired of you messing with me like I’m some joke,” he blurted out, his voice sharper than intended but laced with a vulnerability he couldn’t hide.

For a split second, your eyes widened, but then a soft, genuine laugh bubbled from your throat—completely different from the usual sarcastic tones you threw his way. “Chuuya, I wasn’t messing with you.”

His breath caught. You weren’t? All this time? He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but words failed him.

You slid off the railing, closing the distance between the two of you. “I was just waiting for you to figure it out,” you murmured, voice softer now, your teasing edge momentarily fading.

Chuuya’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as your words lingered in the air between you. His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out the world around him. He had been expecting rejection, or another round of teasing—but this? This left him speechless.

You took another step forward, and suddenly, you were closer than he’d ever imagined. Chuuya could feel the warmth radiating from you, and he was hyper-aware of every inch between you, vanishing rapidly.

He swallowed hard, but no words came. His mind raced, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull he felt towards you. “I—" he started, but before he could find his voice, your hand gently cupped his cheek.

Without giving him a chance to overthink, you leaned in, your lips brushing softly against his. The kiss was tentative at first, testing, but when you felt Chuuya’s hesitant but eager response, it deepened.

His hands, which had been hanging awkwardly at his sides, found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the world seemed to fade away. Every thought, every worry, melted under the warmth of the kiss. Chuuya’s pulse raced, but this time it wasn’t from nerves—it was from the overwhelming sensation of finally having what he hadn’t even realized he’d been chasing for so long.

When you finally pulled back, the teasing smirk returned to your lips, but there was a softness in your eyes that made Chuuya’s chest tighten for a different reason now.

“So…” you whispered, voice just above a breath, “was that clear enough for you?”

Chuuya, still dazed, blinked, his usual bravado returning just a little. He huffed softly, trying and failing to suppress a small smile. “Y-Yeah… clear enough.”

For once, there were no words to stumble over, no need to fight back. Everything between you two was finally starting to fall into place.

Omg this took FOREVER