Juneofalltrades
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Korosensei rarely remembered the faces of the people he killed during his time as the Reaper. Once they were dead, it didn't matter much what they looked like. Even if he did want to remember all of them, there were too many. Faces all blended into eachother. But, every so often, there'd be a memorable moment or particularly annoying assassination that made it difficult to forget a target's face.
But every single face, remembered or not, was dead. He made sure of it. He would usually hang out by the corpse for a second, just make sure they actually died. If he had gloves on, he'd check the pulse.
So why did his co-worker look and sound exactly like one of those few memorable face?
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⚠️If you don't like gore, keep scrolling⚠️
⚠️This fan-fic has been abandoned⚠️ due to not even me knowing where I was gonna take this.
A desperate, wild, almost crazed look. A look a terror. A silent yet deafening cry for help. One that the sender knew was futile. One that he knew would haunt his student forever, yet couldn't stop himself from sending.
Then it was gone. Reduced to the blood splattering the area, to the bits of flesh hitting the ground, and to the sickening crunch of a skull, crushed between metal and more metal.
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The assassin looked over the students. They all looked at him with either curiosity or fear. Only one seemed entirely unbothered.
A short fanfic where Karasuma is also an assassin, hired to help kill Korosensei and teach class 3-E.
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A collection of What If ideas for the anime Assassination Classroom.
Warning: Spoilers!
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Nagisa immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. That isn't Karasuma... right?
A short, one chapter horror story, taking place in the world of Assassination Classroom.
Story was inspired by the song Sleepwalk by Forrest Day.
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nor any more youth or age than there is now by subcorax
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
08 Feb 2020
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The local Primary school has a new teacher. He is, to say the very least, odd.
A series of statements regarding the interactions of the townsfolk with one Jonathan Sims, never formally given.
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- English
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- 6,512
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by Juneofalltrades
15 Aug 2025
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“Jon,” Martin says. “Are you alright?”
Jon’s head lifts, turns toward the sound. He’s shaking. His teeth are bared, a flash of white against his dark skin, but it’s not a smile. There’s something- His eyes, they don’t look right-
His mouth opens, jaw trembling, and he says “Martin?” The bright overhead lights gleam off the blood pouring down his face. His eyes are black, empty sockets.
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- English
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- 13,512
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- 9/?
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Bookmarked by Juneofalltrades
10 Aug 2025