Oliver Kirkland x Reader (Reader's Pov)
  • Reads 2,952
  • Votes 133
  • Parts 14
  • Time 57m
  • Reads 2,952
  • Votes 133
  • Parts 14
  • Time 57m
Ongoing, First published Jul 26, 2015
He could remember everything about her- the long, wavy, blonde hair, glowing tan skin, deep chocolate brown eyes. The way she laughed, her plump, soft lips, her sweet velvety voice. Ah, yes. He remembered the way he held her head in his hands and looked deep into her eyes, feeling more emotion than he ever thought was possible. And most importantly, he remembered in that precious moment leaning in close to her flawless face, and snapping her stupid little neck. Ah, yes, the first girl Oliver Kirkland ever killed.

DONT JUDGE ME FOR THIS I SWEAR TO GOD I WROTE THIS IN FREAKING SEVENTH GRADE AND I DON'T WANT TO DELETE THIS BC NOSTALGIA MAN
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Blame for Blame ✔ by Electricbluriots
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"One body: A death, a suicide, and now a murder. Lunacy is settling over, leaving its fingerprints on them, while breathing down their necks. The warm kiss of air is mistaken for nothing but a midnight breeze, and finger prints not much more than dirt. "Are you worthy enough, huh? Do you think I'm such a fool? You'll die there. Ashton Kahn. Mark my words. You are going to die and your family is going to live a dead life. You know what grief is? Of course, why would YOU know? You haven't been miserable for once in your life, have you? You have always been the super-star, haven't you? Of course you'll die. You deserve nothing but a deadly, rotten grave. You are such a chick, aren't you? Huh. I hate you Ashton Kahn. You are so mean. You think wealth is the world. You think beauty is the world. Don't you find having the best muscles, having the best grades, having the perfect eyes, having the perfect clothes, shoes-" Her words were so powerful, her expression meaner. She meant it. And how right she was. There I was, living a beautiful life. Of course I had no idea what misery is. I'd never been miserable for a second. Hah. She was giving me a lesson. The feeling was so intense, her words ruling my brain, empowering my veins. I was so useless. Have I ever cried? Have I ever thought why people say Life is just a Lie? Did I ever care why was the guy behind the coffee shop shutters crying? Did I ever gave it a second thought what did that guy felt when I called him Bozo? Or what was going on with that girl I heard of whose parents died a day ago? Of course, what was I capable of feeling? And there I had always thought I was the perfect me. The boy who could do anything. The boy who ruled. The boy who lived. Life is just a Lie. And for the first time in ever, I felt it to be so, so real. The reality of this was ever-awakening, it's power would have killed a soul. Life is just a Lie.
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Sprinkled Frosting

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A dash of possessiveness, a hint of stalking, and just a sprinkle of arsenic. The perfect story to bite into, or to read I guess. Also its gay so there's that. This is the first and final draft because I don't like rewriting things. This... novella? Contains kidnapping, poison, death, a mental breakdown, an itty bitty action scene, mistakes probably, and jokes. Alot of jokes, I'm not a very serious person when I write. Probably not a good combination with the darker stuff but you win some you lose some. Anyways enjoy my first ever fully written story and sorry for the long description!