#I am so sorry this took me so long to respond to! -admin

[divineblood-cb]

The red-haired woman stands still while staring at Sunghoon. She gives a gentle smile and moves a little closer to him, she was completely nervous to try to talk to him, but it didn't hurt to try to talk to someone new.

“Hello, I… Um, I'd like to talk to you. Hm... You can call me Phoe for now, What's your name?”

— @yourmysticalgirls-cb

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧. He was a little surprised when the woman approached him, but quickly gave her a soft smile in return. “Oh, hello there. It’s nice to meet you, Phoe. My name is Sunghoon. Uh… If you don’t mind me asking, what made you want to talk to me?”

- @yourmysticalgirls-cb

[twstbookclub]

Fatal Attraction

Summary: Two lives stripped away in a moment's glance before they could even enjoy the gift of love presented in front of them. Caused by strife and wrath, this tragic tale is not one to be taken lightly. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Azul Ashengrotto, Romeo and Juliet, angst, heavy angst, character death, be warned this is depressing Word count: 6,201

I'm gonna totally true here, I had so much fun writing Azul's angst fic, because I took one of my favorite pieces of literature and turned it into a fic-esque work. So, this takes inspiration from Romeo and Juliet, specifically the 1996 version of "Romeo + Juliet" with Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. That version is a lot more modernized to use guns and drugs, etc but I tried my best to minimize all of that to give a less TW tag. I did take some dialogue from the actual literary piece and translated it into modern language, BUT NOT TOO MUCH cause it was honestly really hard 😭

6k words is insane to me because it's more than Malleus or Sebek

I am so sorry Azul stans

Lights illuminate the quiet streets at night, while the city comes alive during the day. However, two rival mafias operate in the town, hidden from the ordinary citizen's eye. Amidst the danger, a casino is the only place where people can forget their problems, but two lovers only need each other for peace.

Azul Ashengrotto is a hitman and negotiator for one of the mafia factions. Well known for his work within the organization and occasional work as a dealer in the casino, Azul is as cunning and deceptive as they come, but it's just his nature.

Azul strolls around the casino with his usual smirk, basking in the glory of a successful negotiation with a company. The other casino staff congratulate him, but he brushes it off, knowing it's all part of his job.

“There’s no need to congratulate me! It is simply my duty as a negotiator.”

After setting his things down, he jokes with some of the casino staff before heading off to prepare for the evening.

Sitting in the garden of your home, you sigh and admire the flowers as the day starts. The day feels long, and sadness makes it feel even longer. You have always been kept within the property of your home. You’re a child of a mafia organization, but your father is hellbent on keeping you from the outside world. You need more, but where could you get that without permission? Suddenly, during your train of thought, a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, good morning, cos," said the voice, playfully interrupting your thoughts.

"It’s still morning?" you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“The day’s barely begun?” Asked Cater, confused.

“Oh, Seven, this day feels too long and dull.”

“But it’s a good day! What sadness lengthens your hours?” Cater asked, trying to sound playful to lighten that solemn look in your eyes.

“Having to sit here and waste away makes my days long and dull, cousin.”

Cater sighs and tries to speak, but your mother calls for you with an alarmed voice. Shrill screams of your name echo, reaching the sky from how loud she is.

You hurriedly ascend the staircase to the second floor, stopping at the middle platform where your mother stood with pinched eyebrows and a subtle frown.

“Madam, I’m here. Is something the matter?”

“Finally! Come! We have something important to discuss. Cater—you can leave,” she said, pushing Cater away. Your mother paused as if something dawned on her at that moment. She shook her head and hastily added, “Wait! Cater, come back! You’re part of this, as well.”

You and Cater rushed to your bedroom and were made to sit on your bed. Maids rushed inside your chambers, and you found yourself being tugged around by each one. The familiar sensation of a brush and the smell of powder filled the room. The sound of rustling fabric and barked orders disturbed the silence.

“Despite what your father says, you are of age. You should go out more—find someone to give you thrills in life!” Your mother exclaimed, helping herself to sit at your vanity table. “I’ve been your mother for many years now, and I’m deeply concerned about your… self-isolation. This is only what I think is best!”

The rest of that conversation was mostly your mother telling you how “the world is your oyster” and that you should take advantage of it. You could only listen until she was tired of lecturing you and walked off to do other things. It ended with Cater helping you get ready.

“Alright. You heard the woman. You’re lucky that I know exactly where to take you,” Cater says with a sigh and starts looking through your closet for you.

The sound of shuffling cards, chips clattering on the tables, and cheers from winners rang through the different halls and rooms. Different themes exist on every floor depending on the games. A floor filled with different slot machine games was filled with neon lights and bright colors to accommodate the vibe. One of them had restaurants galore for each type of economy class that was visiting. Vibrant, blinding colors greeted you, and the mind could easily be overwhelmed by the sight. It smelled of cigarettes and smoke everywhere, and servers held trays of crystalline glasses filled with golden champagne.

Cater brought you to a casino to de-stress. He was familiar with this place, so he knew you’d be okay here. You walked around independently since Cater left you to play a round of Hearts with others he knew.

You watched how people crowded around the poker and baccarat tables. There was a mix of emotions lingering in the casino air: concentrated, frustrated, happy, and angry to name a few. When you turned to another section, you leaned against a pillar and looked in front of you, meeting a pair of bluish-purple eyes.

He was looking at you, too. He looked—

Gorgeous.

You stepped behind the pillar and poked your head out enough just for your eyes to meet his own again. The stranger gave you a modest smile and a gaze so fine that you just had to smile back. Dressed in a black button-up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, fabric fitting his frame as two top buttons were open.

His hair was a pretty gray, and the beauty mark under his lip made his features come together like a perfect painting. His smile grew wider, and he looked away. Then you felt your cheeks grow hot.

It was an unfamiliar feeling. One only your maids and mother would describe to you as love, but is this really what it was? It felt right, but it was too new to confirm true.

When you met his eyes again, he had his hand out for you to take. You looked at the floor momentarily before moving closer and letting your palm touch his, and he guided you to sit at his table.

You looked around, then noticed it was a table of blackjack. Hmm… a simple game. He didn’t let go of your palm and dealt the cards with his free hand. You smiled softly and stared at how he held your hand as if you were glass. 

“You do realize that holding a stranger’s hand for this long is not normal,” you said while looking into his eyes, prompting a laugh to escape his lips

“Well, dear stranger, what is normal? It’s certainly not us.”

“How so?” you asked as you tried to slip your hand away again, but the gesture was met with a firm grip.

“Any other person would’ve walked away from a man with wandering eyes,” he said while leaning closer to you, but you moved away with a smile.

“Would it not be stranger if we were closer than this? Though, I don’t wish to interrupt how you are dealing with this game.”

“Oh? Do you wish to be closer? Closing the distance is not a problem to me.” His offer was tempting, but the words your mother spoke of flashed through your mind. Maybe this is something you should be doing?

“I… can allow that,” you whispered loud enough to reach his ears, quite confident that this was something you wanted

“Then stay while I deal as I please,” he whispered as he leaned closer, noses brushing for a moment before you moved away and stood from the chair you were in.

“Oh,” you laughed playfully and went towards the nearby bar, and he followed you without a complaint, “what a tease. I must say, you’re very forward and quick to act.”

“Wasting no time is what I do best,” he said, following you, watching your movements. “People call me charming and witty, but no praise will amount to anything if I fail to leave an impression on you. Don’t leave me feeling this empty, darling.”

“Why empty? Is the time spent with me so far not fulfilling enough?”

The man placed his fingers under your chin and made you look at him, then he took off his glasses in a swift move. “No, and I won’t be satisfied until I can do this...”

You felt a smile creep up as he pulled you closer and gave you a gentle kiss, only starting. After that gesture, you looked at him and kept your composure.

“Better,” Azul said after that short kiss, a smug look on his face, but he didn’t let you go.

You were a bit surprised by the feeling, but you couldn’t complain. “Is it?”

“Very. It makes me want more…” He whispered before kissing you again, this time letting it linger much longer. 

“You kiss as if you learned from a book,” you spoke softly after breaking it, but he only moved lower towards your ear and neck. 

“Hey, we can’t do this. As much as I enjoy your company, you are a mere stranger at the end of the day,” you said and pushed him back lightly, then tried to walk off. The man moved closer again and sat you down on a bar stool.

His lips found yours again, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. Your body could only respond to the kiss almost instantly. His hands didn’t let go of your waist, yet your own were on the nape of his neck and shoulder.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but you snapped out of it once Cater called your name. “Hello, Earth to cousin? We have to go!”

Cater looked at the man whose arms you were in and sighed in disappointment, clicking his tongue and pulling you away. “Come on!”

While getting pulled away, you kept turning around to watch as the man followed you, a determined look on his face as he tried to catch up. You were pulled up the stairs to the floor above and joined with the bodyguards you arrived with. 

The man remained at the bottom of the stairs, but he stared at you in disbelief.

“His name is Azul Ashengrotto, a hitman from the mafia your family fights against all the time! He’s the right-hand man,” Cater whispered to you, and you felt the smile on your face disappear. You stared down at the man but couldn’t utter a word.

“Is that…? No—they can’t be,” Azul whispered, still in disbelief.

After staring momentarily, you were pulled away, and Azul had to follow again. This continued, even with your head turning back a few times, just to meet the man following at a distance.

Azul stood at the casino door while you left, watching as your car left with a regretful expression in his eyes. “Not knowing and finding out too late—how the hell did we end up finding each other this way?” he said to himself as you stared back at him from the moving car, then he went back into the casino grounds.

After arriving home, you walked around your garden under the moonlight and sighed softly. You moved yourself to squat in front of the pool at the end of the concrete path, looking up at the moon. 

“Azul Ashengrotto… Who could he really be? What does his name have to do with anything?”

“The group that rivals my family name, but what is in that name? It’s not a hand, foot, or any other part belonging to me.” You stare down at your reflection in the water and smile softly at the thought of that man you had a slight moment with at the casino. 

You stand up and sigh, “Should he tell me he doesn’t like it, I would change it in a heartbeat—”

“Then should we change that name?”

You spin around and scream as he puts his hands on your arms, but the shock causes you to fall back into the pool with him. You quickly come up to the surface and spit out the water in your mouth, then stare at the pale indigo eyes on you.

“What are you doing here!? Did you follow me? If they see you, they’ll murder you!” You whispered loudly because of the panic, but your reaction made Azul laugh.

“That is the least of my worries.”

“But you’re the Ashengrotto, an ally of my mortal enemy—”

“I will neither, if you dislike it. What can they do to me?” He whispers the last part, moving closer and touching your cheek. “I was able to see you again. I’m satisfied with that. It’s better to be killed by their hatred than by the torture of not seeing you. You love me and I love you, so let them find me here. I want your love for as long as you’ll allow me to have it.”

You stare at his features for a moment before he kisses you softly, the quiet night enveloping the both of you. It was slow, but you could feel how he felt the same for you as you did him. The more time that passed, the more passion was being shared.

The pool water was warm, but the way he grabbed your hips with one hand and kept your head in place with the other gave you a chill down your spine, simply from how he made you feel. 

You pulled back after a while longer and felt your face burning, so you avoided looking at him. “The moon's light can only hide me so well, and now you’ve heard me speak tonight. Do you love me? I know that you’ll say yes, and I will take your word for it.”

You spoke while backing away to get out of the pool, and he followed, leaving kisses on your neck when he could. “If you love me, say it faithfully.”

“I swear by the moon—”

You sighed and pushed him back. “Don’t swear by her ever-changing beauty unless your love has conditions.”

“Then what do I swear by?” Azul asks, looking at you with confusion in his expression.

“Don’t swear at all. If you must, swear on yourself. If it comes from your heart, then I’ll believe you.”

“The love in my heart…” He whispers, then gives you light kisses again, but you quickly break it and turn away.

“Don’t. Although I enjoy this, I will have no joy in this promise tonight. It’s too soon, too rash, and—like a lightning strike—it will be gone too soon,” you said and climbed up the ladder to get out of the water, but his sudden call out made you stop.

“Will you leave me so unsatisfied?”

You turn around and look at him with surprise. “What satisfaction could you have tonight?”

“To tell me that your heart belongs to me”

He was right. He had declared his love for you, but you hadn’t done the same for him. Was this real? You smiled brightly and ran back into his arms, falling into the pool with him again.

“I gave it to you before you even asked!” You exclaimed before falling back in with him, your lips landing against his into an underwater kiss.

Coming up to the surface, you hear Cater calling for you around the house, and you shout. “I’ll be there!” You turn to Azul and pull him out, hurrying him to leave through a secret gate.

“I leave you with a few more words before good night. If you’ll allow me the honor of marriage, let me know tomorrow—in a way that I can visit you—where and what time we’ll marry,” you whisper with a smile and hold his hand through the iron bars of the gate.

Cater shouted again, and you could only shout once again. “I’m on my way!”

“May all of my fortune and my will always follow you. If you do not mean well, I beg you not to argue and leave me alone to grieve. I will send someone over to the casino tomorrow,” you told Azul before letting him go, not before giving him a kiss.

“I am yours, and you are mine. I’ll be happy to hear from you.”

“I hope you have a wonderful night.” You smiled again and ran off, and Azul walked off as well. Shortly after, you gasped to yourself and tried to find him again, rushing towards him.

“Azul!” you called out, catching his attention, and his smile only brightened your heart. “At what hour should I send for someone?”

“By 9 in the morning.”

“I won’t let you down. It’s an eternity until then.” You laugh softly and pull your necklace off you, giving it to him. He took it gladly and tightened his fist to avoid losing it.

“Good night, darling.” He said and walked away, looking back at you a few times until he was completely out of sight.

“A bittersweet sorrow that is parting, that I shall say ‘good night’ until tomorrow.” You said with a smile. Finally, you ran off into your home.

The next day, you were home alone, and you waited with anticipation for your cousin to arrive back to you. As soon as the door opened to your bedroom, you jumped up and saw Cater come in with a tired expression.

“Cater!”

“Oh, hey, cos,” he says and tucks himself into your bed, your expression turning into disappointment.

“Cater! What does my love say?”

“Your love? Oh! That negotiator guy,” he says, “… Hey, where are your parents?” Cater asked, looking at you with a cheeky smile.

“Where are my parents?” You sigh from frustration and pull the blankets off the kid. “Don't keep it from me any longer! What did Azul say!?”

Cater laughs before standing from the bed and going to your closet. He looks at your more formal clothing and then picks something out for you. “When you go out today, meet him at the church. There, a man waits to marry you later today.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement as you heard the news. You took the outfit into your hands and left to change, finding even more reason to leave your home today.

Arriving at the church, you noticed the cars parked in front were all the same. When you entered the wide chapel, your eyes instantly met his, and the warm golden lights illuminated the design.

You had always been here before, but how the room lit up now was mesmerizing. Seeing Azul made the moment even better because it was only you and him. You made your way down before meeting with him, and how sweet he was.

Speaking vows and promises while looking at your love in the eyes, you could finally understand why a wedding day was so important. You knew you would never forget this day even if fate decided to take you away tomorrow.

His hands held yours and carefully slipped a silver band on your finger. That was it. You were officially married to him.

“I love you,” you whispered, seeming as if now was a dream that would slip through your fingers.

“I love you too,” he responded, giving you a kiss to conceal it together.

Azul had to leave after that because his negotiation work was urgent, but he still ensured you arrived home safely.

Under that guise, Azul arrived at his own mafia’s headquarters. The room was a bit tense as he walked into his boss’ office, only to find a man tied on the marble floor. The room was dim and added to the atmosphere that the organization strived for.

At the snap of a finger, the man became unmasked, to reveal one of your relatives. Azul looked surprised but quickly had to hide it. 

“Boss. Is… this him?” Azul asked, looking his boss in the eye, but he was feeling a cold sweat for once.

“That’s right. You already know what you have to do. Don’t disappoint me, Ashengrotto.”

Azul nodded once and gestured to the guards to follow him with their victim, and he left behind them with a tense feeling. 

Your relative? One whom he now shared names with through his dearly beloved, but did he really want to kill this man? 

This man was a spy. Playing his organization like a game of chess, he could get away with it for a while, but his boss knew the truth from the beginning. The boss wasn’t an idiot, they wouldn’t be in the place they're in now if that was the case, so it wasn’t surprising.

This was different now, though.

Azul stared at this man’s back with hesitation. He didn’t want to do this to you, but this was his job. You knew that, too, but that wasn’t an excuse. Yet, if he didn’t do this, it was his life on the line along with this man.

You sat in your room while staring up at the statues of the Seven in your room, a warm smile on your face at the thought of your new husband, a lingering sadness that you couldn’t spend time with him.

“Oh, Seven… If only the stars could show me my husband now. If anything should happen, may the heavens take his soul and place it among the stars, so his radiance could illuminate the night, that not even the moon could compare,” you whispered to yourself while imagining Azul, causing you to smile more than you already were. “If only I could see him soon..”

Azul stood in front of the captured man with a bitter look in his eye. He called the guards off to be alone in the room, still hesitating about the choice in front of him.

“You know, you’re trembling… it’s obvious, buddy.” The man said with a laugh, his busted face still dripping some blood onto the floor.

Azul’s eyes widened, his voice slightly trembling. “What? Don’t say a word. Do not provoke me.”

“Why? Is the big man, Ashengrotto, finally scared?”

“Shut up—”

“What a baby. How the hell are you the right-hand man, if you can’t pull the trigger?”

“Don’t say anything else!”

“In my organization, you would’ve been killed for being this weak!”

“You don’t know a damn thing!” Azul yelled, swiftly taking out his gun and putting it to the man’s head. “Do you not wish to be saved? I can do that. I don’t want to do this. Not for…” His voice trailed off, a lump forming in his throat.

“Don’t be fucking weak. Do it!” The man yelled, messing around with the assassin in front of him. This man knew what he was doing but didn’t know the consequences.

The gun was taken off its safety as Azul took a deep breath, putting his personal emotions aside and speaking quieter. “To my beloved relative by name… May the Seven help you.”

The man grew confused before he was met with darkness. The sound of the gun echoing through the large room was enough of a message that it was over, but guilt started to take over the new silence.

“Shit… What the hell did I do?’ Azul whispered to himself before dropping the gun and staring at the corpse in front of him with disbelief.

You stared at the statues once again with a confused look on your face, at a loss for how to react. It had been a few hours, but you had just been told the news about your relative being killed by your husband’s hand.

“Say it isn’t so? Seven, don’t betray my heart this way… Am I supposed to criticize my husband? Speak ill of him? For the love he had for me, am I supposed to think of him as a traitor? Give up his word for actions?” You spoke to yourself, pleading with the gods above to give you an answer, but you received nothing.

Your heart ached at the deafening silence, and not even your ancestors could help you in this. It felt like your bloodline was shaming you for confiding in a sworn enemy, but you couldn't control who you could love...

Was it truly so easy to blame yourself for this?

Azul had quickly become a target under your family’s watchful eye. He had to do something, and quickly. Azul stared out the window from his office before he took a breath and fixed his glasses, only coming up with one answer.

“Guards, take me to them. I’ll be staying the night. In the meantime, prepare a burial.” Azul said calmly before grabbing his coat and leaving quickly.

You sat on your bed and tilted your head, hugging one of the pillows while thinking. Your mother left you to rest for the night, and you took the opportunity to lock yourself in. You let out a sigh and slowly stood up.

“Am I supposed to deny him? Divorce him for what he did? What a cruel thing to do to someone I love,” you said to yourself, but then you heard footsteps come in through your window.

The sound immediately caught your attention, and you were met with Azul standing there with regret in his eyes. You slowly went closer without your eyes moving away, scared that he would disappear.

“I’m sorry,” Azul whispered, his already sad eyes becoming glassy with the tears he couldn’t keep back anymore. “I swear to you and the Seven above, I didn’t want to do it—”

“I believe you. I can see it in your eyes. It was either that… or death, right? I know how this business goes, but that still won’t stop me from loving you.” You responded just as quietly, then looked over his body to make sure he didn’t have any injuries. Just doing this made your heart race.

Your hands slid down his coat to take it off, the ruffling sound of it hitting the ground mixing with the sounds of breathing and pattering rain hitting the ground outside. It made you a bit relieved that he could reach you before the rain began, but your heart rate wasn’t slowing down.

You loosened his tie and took off a few buttons so he could relax, but you were nervous. You guess… it’s kind of late to be nervous when you’re already married to him. Regardless, your hands just went with the flow, even if you didn’t have any experience in this aspect.

Azul watched your movements carefully before he leaned closer, taking off his glasses in the process. Your eyes met his indigo irises, your hands made their way to his neck and shoulder, and your heart was about to explode.

You willingly closed the space and kissed him as you knew he was about to do the same to you, but he returned it so gently. It was different from the time you met at the casino or in the pool that same night, but it felt perfect. Neither of you wanted to let go.

Morning came too fast. Azul woke up to the harsh reality of what was going to happen today. Any slight movement he made easily woke you up, but you could only give a small groan since you weren’t ready to get up yet. That noise made him smile and laugh before he sat up to see how you slowly opened your eyes

“It’s too early, and not time for you to go.” You whispered with a tired voice, still exhausted from the events of the day prior. Azul quickly moved to hover above you within the blink of an eye as your words caused him to feel warm.

“Then let’s not get out of these sheets—delay the morning by never coming out. I can appreciate just how divine my spouse looks while you look up at me like that.” Azul began playfully, slowly becoming genuine and affectionate with his words.

Before you could respond, Cater ran into your room and closed the door behind him, causing Azul to fall off your bed from surprise. “Your mother is on the way! Quick!” He said with panic, swiftly moving around to help out.

Azul got all of his things and you let him escape from the window, following him onto the balcony. He pulled you into a kiss for a moment before letting you go. “Stay safe. I’m sorry for what I did.”

You shook your head and gave him a gentle smile, placing your lips against his for a few seconds. “I love you. I love you more than anything. My life is yours.”

“My love…” Azul said somberly and sighed, placing a small kiss on your forehead. You felt the emotion he was feeling by just the way he was acting, and it left you confused. You looked at him with concern before giving him your ring from the day before.

You kissed the engraving on the band before placing the ring in his palm. “Just be safe. I will try to find out if something grave is being planned in hopes of stopping it.”

Azul just stayed quiet before he pushed you back inside your bedroom and quietly left. That was it between you two for now. You stared at the bed in front of you as your stomach began to turn in a bad way, but you could only whisper something to yourself as you fixed the robe you had put on when rushing.

“Letting someone out and bringing light in—why do I have a feeling that it will be in vain?” 

Azul stood in the church that had become special to him less than twenty-four hours ago, holding a small bottle in the palm of his hand, along with your ring and necklace beside it.

There was a war going on outside. He was the head that they wanted to capture for killing your father’s brother, an eye for an eye, and he didn’t want you to be brought into it. He was thankful that you could forgive him and still keep your love, but he didn’t deserve it after making you grieve for the loss of a relative and the loss of his presence beside yours.

He made sure to kiss the ring and the cross charm from your necklace, before putting them both on and staring up at the painted murals from the church’s ceiling, a soft expression at the memory of exchanging vows that were so fresh to him.

Without much hesitance, Azul popped open the small container and dropped some pills into his palm. His boss gave him these after he proposed to fake his death until this was over, composing a plan once a certain number of their kin had been killed in his stead.

One, two, three. Pills disappeared as Azul swallowed them. The drugs were quick, as he felt his heart begin to slow down and his breathing was coming to struggle for air. The church echoed the sounds of his quick suffering, until turning as quiet as the sleeping city he committed his sins.

In the morning, Cater ran into your room to find you clutching your chest, but not a single tear in your eyes. You were more shocked than anything. Your father stopped the war at the moment of finding out that their target was dead. Your husband was dead.

Cater, who was breathing heavily from running, went over to your side with a saddened look, letting out a sigh at the immense despair he could feel around you. “Cos, I’m sorry, but now… what’s your plan?”

Silence.

Nothing was your plan. How could there be a plan? The love you harbored couldn’t be shared with the one you married anymore. You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes, a hidden tear finally dropping down your cheek.

Cater noticed your silence and went to lock your door, “He’s laid to rest at the church. I’ll take you to him.” 

Your body was simply guided by Cater now. He dressed you the best way that he could, in a way that your parents wouldn’t find suspicious. You hadn’t uttered a word or looked at him, but instead kept yourself together as if it was taking its time to affect you.

Your parents believed that you were grieving over your uncle’s death, so they left you alone. With that, Cater could take you over to the church during the sunset hour.

When you arrived, he guided you in and let your eyes lay upon the empty cathedral. The door closed behind you as Cater didn’t step in to leave you on your own. Finally being by yourself, you could relax as tears filled your eyes at the sight of the bed at the end of the aisle.

You slowly made your way closer and closer, each step making a sound that echoed through the space. The closer you got, the more detailed his body became. With gentleness and care, your hand wrapped around his and it felt weird.

“My love, death hasn’t taken your warmth yet?” You speak quietly and caress his cheek while holding back your tears. “You look as if life is still within you, and a peaceful sleep is all that affects you,” you said while leaning down to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Even your lips are as warm as the day. How precious…”

You went quiet after and closed your eyes, letting out a small sob before covering your eyes with your hands. The tears ran down your cheeks before being wiped away, not wanting to cry too bad after.

“What a cruel world we were born into,” you say quietly to your husband’s body before you look up at the ceiling above you, memories flashing through your head. A smile finally showed on your face at the thought of Azul, like his face and name always had these days.

You looked down as you held something in your hand. A small dagger with a black shine to it. You placed the tip of the blade at your chest and pierced yourself with it, the pain not being at all the same as losing the love of your life. You only let out a small wince and looked down at your husband, only to find him with a look of horror and his eyes wide open.

“No, you—” Azul started but quickly reacted to sit up and pull you to lay down where he was, struggling breaths coming from you as the blood seeped out of your wound. Azul tried to take it out, but your grip on the handle was strong even though your body was growing weak.

“What—” You whispered, tears falling down from your eyes as you tried to think, but you could only stare at Azul with a blurry vision from how fast your life was being taken away from you. “Why…?”

“Why? To protect you. Why would you follow me?” Azul asked with tears coming up to his own eyes. He held you tightly as if that would stop the slow death you were experiencing, but he wasn’t doing anything. He couldn’t. “Why wouldn’t you want to live?”

“Live…” You whispered, your slow blinking accompanied by a small smile only made this more bitter than it was, a gasp coming from you before you spoke again. “I couldn’t live without you.”

These words were soon followed by silence. A quiet breath was let go from you. Your body grew limp and still. Your hands had finally let go of the dagger that had you inflicted on yourself, but it was too late.

Azul just stared in a still stance, still holding you. He waited for something. Anything. A sign of life. Something to check if you were still there with him. When he didn’t get anything, he let out loud sobs while holding your lifeless body close to him, even putting out a few screams from the agony that surrounded his heart.

Every sound and movement he made echoed and pierced his ears with desperation and regret. If only he had told you the plan. If only he ran away with you instead, you would still be alive and smiling at him.

After his moment of grieving, he looked up and down at you, but then his eyes stopped at the blood-stained clothes you had on. His eyes locked onto the dagger before he carefully pulled it out and stared at the blade. 

The question he asked you earlier wasn’t in his mind anymore. Even if he stayed alive, he would die at the hands of your family once they realized that he was alive and that you died with him beside you. He couldn’t live without you either.

He stared at you for a moment before he took your hand into his and he closed his eyes. He placed the dagger against his neck and let out a breath before his body fell right next to yours, and a deafening silence befell them.

Two lovers. Both alike in dignity, now gone in mere moments from their organization’s strife. Young adults with so much more to life and love to share, could not stop the rage of others. A love story that ended so tragically changed the outcome of the respectful lives that they could’ve had.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

not a dream, common misconception about OTID

1) It's ran by a set of admins - nope, there's just one person behind this blog and it's always been just me.

2) It's been here since 2012 - nope, I made this blog in the summer of 2016. It took me close to a year to even start talking to you all, I just went through dreams and kept to myself, and it took me even longer to do a face reveal.

3) All the dreams posted are dreamt by the blog owner - nope, I rarely post my own dreams because I rarely dream. All the dreams posted were dreamt by people who've submitted them!

4) The submissions post on their own - nope, I go through them and post them manually. I also edit them, fix them up if there are any mistakes, clarify things that make no sense, look up the people mentioned when not provided context so I could give context to readers and occasionally edit the style a little so it'd be easier to read and understand.

5) It doesn't take long to post a large number of submissions - unfortunately untrue, it does take a lot and I also have to edit and vet the problematic ones. Tumblr has a daily post and queue limits, but it would be impossible to post 300 submissions per day without it. A lot of you don't provide context when sending in dreams about niche things and I have to dig for it myself because not everyone (most of us even, maybe) know about the same things as you do and I'd like for all of the post posted here to be understandable to the masses, so I always spend a lot of time checking for that.

6) I intentionally post the newer submissions first - completely false. Unfortunately, the submissions that were sent in earlier by Tumblr default end up at the bottom of the inbox and the scroll is broken. When you have thousands of submissions and try to go further and further down to post the older ones first, the scroll breaks, freezes, the editing is at 0.0001x speed, and so on. Everything is slow and blocky, therefore I have no choice but to go from the newer submissions down, and not vice versa.

7) I intentionally don't reply to donation posts that are submitted to OTID - UNTRUE AS frick. I've put my personal blog in the description and closed asks here so help posts would not be buried on this blog and I see them much sooner on @dreampai because I mostly use it for that purpose. When people submit their help posts on this blog, they unfortunately get buried by newer submissions and sometimes I don't see them for months. I've also closed anonymous messages on my personal blog because one person whose submission post I hadn't seen in time kept sending me hate and accused me of intentionally ignoring them. Don't submit your help posts on here, please send them as asks on my personal so you're guaranteed to be noticed. People who I've helped in the past can vouch that I do reply, respond and reshare their help posts on here.

8) I don't reply to messages - partially true and partially untrue. I get a lot of messages from you guys on all of my social media and it can get pretty overwhelming for me. Sometimes it takes me months to reply to everything, though I do try to talk to you as much as possible, but I'm a full time student on top of everything and my free time is limited, so if your message got buried, I'm sorry and please don't be discouraged. It's not that I don't care about you, it's likely that I didn't see it. Furthermore, people keep sending me their dreams on my personal platforms and that also helps to overwhelm me. @dreampai is my personal blog and I don't accept submission on there, but whenever I close submissions on here, there are people who ignore that and send them there.

9) The submission button isn't working - false. If you can't submit something, it means that the submissions are closed. Whenever the number of submission gets to an insane amount, like right now, I close it for some time so I can sort through them, edit and post them. It takes a while for me to do that. It's impossible to queue them all at once because of the way Tumblr works and the queue limit, and it takes some time for me to proofread and edit everything. Besides, I make sure to always edit the blog description when they are closed and close that option in the settings, people just don't check everything out. I get at least a few asks weekly on my personal of people telling me that the submission button isn't working. I know they're all well-intentioned.

10) OTID admin is a guy - false. I don't know how this rumor started but I always find it funny when people get surprised that I am a woman.

11) I don't look at posts that people tag me in - completely false. Sometimes they do get buried because, when you have a high level of activity blog with millions of notes per month, trying to find all the @s can be impossible and they won't load even if I do it through my activity panel because Tumblr is laggy like that. So if I miss something, tag me again please. Don't be afraid to send me an ask on my personal.

12) I don't like my mutuals, therefore I don't reply to them - untrue. If I follow you, for whichever reason, I probably like you or admire you or admire something that you've did, or you've managed to make me laugh. If I don't reply to your messages, it's because I'm overwhelmed or intimidated or nervous. I don't know why people keep imagining the worst, but I really wanted to clear this one up.

[lemonjoonah]

Level of Restraint (M)

Pairings: Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 13K  Rating: M  Genre: Thriller, smut, office AU, BDSM AU  Warnings(contains spoilers): This story contains very dark themes and may not be suited to all readers, protected sex (vag+anal), threesome, double penetration, bondage (including partial suspension), dom/sub roles (reader is a sub), praise kink, mild degration, sensory deprivation, spanking, fingering, cum feeding, mild breathplay, sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, discussion of safe word, Namjoon is a professional dom/sex worker, referenced discrimination of sex workers and those who participate in BDSM, public outing of sexual practices, inappropriate workplace relationships, referenced death of minor character, yandere character, misidentified sexual partner, manipulation, bribery, blackmail, implied stalking, violence.

Summary: As a co-founder of a consulting firm you can’t afford to be caught in a scandal. So flirting with your secretary, Jimin, would be out of the question. Giving your client’s son, Taehyung, a reference for a sexual partner would be reprehensible. And having regular paid BDSM sessions with your dominant, Namjoon? That would be a career ending disgrace. It’s too bad the only restraints in life you approve of are the cuffs that bind you to the bed, because there are those hiding in the dark waiting to take advantage. 

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this story. It was hard not to question the level of darkness this tale descends to. In the end your assurances and aid are the only reason this fic made it to fruition. Upon reading you might notice several thematic references to the ‘Fall of the House of Usher,’ by Edgar Allan Poe  and the Greek myth of Tantalus. They are two of my favourite tales, and together they greatly represent the darkened desires depicted in this oneshot.

...

8:55 am KNJ: Good girl.

Your heart races upon receiving the response you’ve been waiting for all morning. The sender had requested proof that you were wearing his last minute gift, and you were happy to oblige with the lewd photo. Finally seeing his simple praise for your efforts makes you grin from ear to ear, as you enter the front door to your workplace’s building. The message will be enough to get you through the day, high on the thought of his praise while his present is wrapped tightly around your ribs. Though the garment may be confining, you’ll endure anything to receive those two simple words.

Reluctantly glancing up from your phone you look ahead to see the elevator closing.

“Hold the door!” You call out, making a run for it. Mercifully the gap between the doors widens allowing you to climb in before it begins the long haul up. Glancing over to your savoir, you find your secretary standing at the panel. “Thanks Jimin.”

“No problem,” he responds with a warm smile. “What floor do you need?” Joking as he pushes the button labelled 14. 

You playfully shove his arm while trying to catch your breath. Had he left you down on the first floor there's no telling how long it would be before the elevator returned. The building in which you work has been down to one lift for a couple days, with no promise of when the other will be fixed. It’s not a surprise really, ever since you moved into this complex three years ago you’ve been plagued with breakdowns and shotty utilities. Considering how opulent  the tower is, with it’s gilded elevators and halls adorned in finery you expected better, but people often overlook flaws when they have something pleasant to stare at. Allowing the management to slack on some of the failings of the structure. 

“Do you think you could send maintenance another message?” You ask your hand clutching your waist to comfort the stitch in your side, no doubt a result of the corset concealed beneath your clothes. 

“Consider it done.” Jimin replies, pulling out his phone. “Are you okay Miss?” He asks, your heavy breathing failing to go unnoticed judging from the concern in his voice.

“Fine.” You quickly change the subject, not wanting to linger on your current state. “What’s on my schedule for today?”

“You have a consultation with Mr. Kim of HOC Industries in an hour-” 

“Really?” You cut in, confused about the sudden change. “But I just saw him a few weeks ago. Why is he coming in?”

“He didn’t say, I just got a message last night from him stating he required an appointment immediately.”

“That’s not a good sign...” You groan, wondering what information had dropped to spur a need for such an urgent response. 

“Afterwards you have an early lunch with journalist Min. Followed by a one o’clock appointment with Jeon Jungkook to go over the new web layout. And the rest of office hours are slated as admin.” 

You cringe over the prospect of bookkeeping. Your accountant’s involvement in a recent accident, placed him on an extended leave of absence. Since you are the only other member of your small staff qualified to balance the books, this leaves you burdened with his duties. “Remind me later to make a posting for a temp position.”

“Noted,” Jimin remarks as he continues to scroll through his phone. “Oh and don’t forget, you also have your monthly massage appointment with Kim Namjoon tonight.”

You smile at the thought, you would never forget a booking with him, especially since he’s the reason for your current state of breathlessness. You’ve been counting down the days until you get to see him, with only a few hours left you can barely contain yourself. To everyone who asks he’s a masseur, but the services he provides are far more aggressively intimate than a standard massage. You force a small cough to cover the involuntary moan starting to escape. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s not a complete lie, with the stress from work there have been a lot of restless nights recently, your appointment tonight should help to relieve a bit of that tension. There’s a loud groan as the elevator comes to a stop at your floor. You look up to the top of the lift and over to Jimin with worry, both of you stepping off with haste once the doors open.

Your entire office space consists of only a few rooms. You and Hoseok had started this company only a few years ago, focusing on corporate consultations regarding public image and approval. All things considered you’re doing rather well. With your negotiation tactics, Hoseok's philanthropy efforts, and Yoongi on retainer as your media source, you’ve been able to take on several giant corporations.    

As you walk down the hall you find the temperature starting to rise, and upon stepping into your’s and Jimin’s shared office, you’re hit with a wave of heat. You whisper your curses as you check the thermostat which has been jacked to its highest setting and refuses to shift back down. 

Giving up on the system you turn to the windows, but even those are a struggle after being neglected for so long. You call out to Jimin for assistance, waiting no more than a second before he is by your side. But even with his help you only manage to open them to the grand extent of a sliver before you’re forced to give in. At least with your office door open there’s now a small draft pervading the space.

“I guess I’ll send maintenance another message,” Jimin chuckles.

“You don’t think he’s trying to push us out do you?” You inquire about the building owner, and one of your own clients. You don’t usually make such bold claims, but with Jimin’s ties to the dubious man, it’s hard not to ask.

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Though I think this is more likely due to his lack of regard for the workmanship going into his properties.”

You nod overlooking the now stuffy room which holds both your desks. It serves its purpose with a sufficient amount of daylight from the large windows, and a partial wall giving you each a bit of privacy. You’d rather not have to leave this building and the status that comes with it, but there seems to be no end with these faulty appliances. “So much for being the height of sophistication.”

While you settle into your workspace you’re already dying from the heat, a sweater and camisole overtop your corset was not the best choice for today, but you didn’t want to risk anyone noticing the garment beneath. As you shuffling through your newsite tabs Jimin readies the coffee maker, returning to you with the first dose of your daily caffeine needs. 

“You’re a saint.”

Jimin smiles brightly at your compliment, living for the praise as always. “Do you want some ice on the side?” He laughs as you tug on your sweater to stop it from sticking to your skin.

“Only if I can rub it all over.” You sigh jokingly as you take a sip of the hot beverage.

“I’d be happy to assist.” His smirk and piercing gaze look to be downright serious, his flirtation hitting a new high today.    

“Sorry Jimin, I already have a massage appointment later. I think Namjoon would be very upset if you took his job from him.”

“That’s too bad.” He mutters, his lip still curled into a smile before stepping away from your desk. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d be more than willing to compensate him for his loss.” Jimin has never been shy about his attraction to you, a desire which you most certainly reciprocate, but your own company policies keep the both of you tied to flirtatious word play. With Jimin winning more often than not when it comes to provocative sentiments.

He hangs around on your side of the room, straightening the chairs and stray flies, while you continue your search for whatever prompted the need for your haste meeting. At last you find it, on the featured articles of a prominent celeb news site, with the headline reading, ‘The Dark Desires of the Kim Family Heir.’

Much to your chagrin the issue isn’t regarding your client, but his son. As much as you try to stay out of personal family matters, sometimes they are unavoidable, and this looks to be one of those cases.

‘Kim Taehyung has long been considered one of the most eligible bachelors. He has it all, money, power, and a spot on every top ten most attractive list, but those who have been with him more intimately say he craves something more...’ 

Your mouth falls open in horror as one of Taehyung's former partners exposes their most intimate moments with him. ‘The Gucci suits and custom cologne are just an expensive mask for the darkness beneath. He would ask to be tied, bound to the bed and struck. He wanted pain and pleasure...’ The further you read the more your chest tightens. You’d rather not jump to conclusions, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. A fact which must make it all the more painful for Taehyung. You can only imagine what he must be going through, to have such private details exposed and exploited. He’s currently living your worst nightmare, a societal judgement over one's deepest desires. For professional reasons it would probably be best to stay out of this private matter, but you can’t in good consciousness let him suffer alone.

“That bad?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah...” You cover your mouth to hide your shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill on Taehyung's behalf.

Jimin shuffles in behind your desk with you. By lowering himself to read off your screen, his face falls next to yours. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he leans in to eye the article in question. You should shoo him away, but you can’t help but be curious of his response to those who engage in such practices. As his eyes scan the page his grip on you tightens, his breathing erratic just like yours, with a whispered “‘Fuck,” escaping his lips. 

“Are we interrupting something?” A voice calls out from your open door. 

Your head snaps over in shock to find your next appointment waiting for you, with his son in tow. You jump up pushing Jimin back so you can greet your guests properly. “Mr. Kim! No not at all,  please come in. This must be-”

“Taehyung...” The younger man mutters as he walks in, slumping down in one of the chairs in front of your desk. His sunglasses are still in place, the smell of spirits wafts over you along with the spicy scent of what must be his referenced cologne. He’s a sight to behold, a person of his caliber could make a fortune off his looks alone; he wouldn’t even need a drop of his father's fortune. But of course, that would have been before this public outing of his bedroom tendencies. Now he’s more likely to be seen as a pariah rather than an asset.

Directing the elder to the seat next to him, you take your own once again as Jimin retreats to his desk. You don’t even have the chance to exchange pleasantries before Mr. Kim launches into the purpose of their visit. “I assume you saw the article about my son?”

“I did, but-”

“And? What can we do about it? How can we spin it? Our stocks have already taken a hit.”

“Your son just had a serious breach in personal privacy...” You pause hoping that he’ll have some semblance of a realization that he is not the victim here, instead he simply waits for you to continue. Attempt to hold in your dismay, you give him the only answer you can, “Sue for defamation if you’d like, but whether they are printing fact or fiction the damage is done. The press is still focusing on your family due to your early misdealings in your company. I would argue that if you turn the view of operations around then there is a very good chance that the media will start to back off personal affairs.”

“You can’t expect me to twiddle my thumbs and wait. My shareholders are currently questioning his ability to lead, they might seek to replace him.”

“Good.” Taehyung mutters. “If those prudes have a problem with me, I’d rather not have to work with them.”

You bite your lip to conceal a snort of laughter.  Mr. Kim fails to notice but his son seems to have caught your slip, taking off his glasses, he pierces you with a strong gaze.

Kim senior starts up again looking for sympathy and a way out, “Do you know how many of his flings I’ve had to pay off in the past-”

“Maybe you should just stick to your own business.” Taehyung eyes his father darkly.

“They made it my business when they started squealing to the press about what kind of man you are.”

You try to rein the situation in, this battle between father and son having no place in your office. “Mr. Kim! I would actually like to speak to your son for a moment. We can see if there’s a possible remedy for this... exposure.” You stand up, calling over the wall for your secretary "Jimin? Would you mind taking Mr. Kim to see Hoseok?” You turn back to your elder client, practically pushing him out the door into your secretaries’s care. “Jung Hoseok has been continuing his work on your company's philanthropic efforts. I’m sure he would love to show you what he has done with your portfolio.”

“Do you need me to come right back Miss?” Jimin asks with a pleading stare, his eyes flicker over to the young man still slumped in his seat.

“No I think we’ll be okay for a bit.” You mutter to him quietly as Mr. Kim proceeds down the hall. “Just keep him away for a few minutes.”

Once they're both gone you sit back down across from Taehyung with a sigh.

“So are your going to talk some sense into me?” He drawls with disdain.

“Fuck no,” you scoff, rummaging through your drawer. “Can I get you anything coffee, water... advil?”  You finally pull out the bottle of pain relievers and offer one to him as you take one yourself, your head ready to explode in frustration over his father. 

He tilts his head looking somewhat surprised, “So why did you send him away then?”

“I thought you could use a break. I’ve worked with many people like your father, they all want things done their way, and you’ll never be able to tell them otherwise. He’ll never admit to his faults, and the fact that he’s the real reason the media is all over you. So as long as you don’t tattle on me, we both can make it through this meeting with him thinking that he’s won.”

“Deal,” Taehyung agrees while he chuckles at your ploy. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” You offer once again.

“Actually I’ll take some advil.”

“I thought you might.” You poor him glass from the cooler and offer up the pill. When his sleeve pulls back to reach for the cup you can’t help but notice the glaring red evidence of a rope abrasion on his wrist. While he throws back the pain killer, you take another sip of your coffee rolling the bitterness over your tongue before breaching the difficult subject. “It can’t be easy to have the press prying into every aspect of your private life.”

“It’s not so much that they pry, but...” Taehyung hesitates, his brow furrows as his fingers run through his hair tugging on the strands between his fingers.  “People know that they can go to them with a story and make money off any relations I have with them. And the press will gladly pay top dollar for what they have to offer.”

“The story is not a complete fabrication then?” You already know it’s not judging from his father's response and the marks on his arm, you just need to hear him say it. 

“No, it’s mostly true.” He admits, watching your reaction.

“Then it would seem that your desires might be thought unconventional by many of your past partners?”

Taehyung nods, taking another sip of his water. 

“From one unconventional individual to another,” you pause waiting for your own admission to sink in. To your delight Taehyung immediately perks up listening attentively as you continue. “There are more discreet ways to fill those needs.”

“Are you offering?” He asks, raising a brown along with the corner of his lips.

“No, I doubt that I would be very good at meeting your cravings, since we both hunger the same type of... attention.” You smile back at him, rejoicing in your mutual secret. “But I do have a friend who will take very good care of you. I’m going to give you a name and phone number, it’s up to you if you want to contact them, but I can assure you any conversations or actions between you and them will be kept strictly confidential. It’s not cheap,” you explain, but doubt that’ll be a problem for him. “But I assure you it’s safe and private.”

Taehyung can barely get the information from you fast enough once you jot it down. His hands, reaching for the sheet, accidentally knock over your coffee instead, sending the drink in your direction and staining your sweater. “I’m so sorry, here let me help you.” Taehyung jumps up and runs and grabs napkins from the coffee station. 

“It’s fine really.” You assure him, making an attempt to stop him as he starts to blot the saturated material. 

Unfortunately it’s at this moment that Jimin walks in to see your precarious state. He stands there for a moment in silence before explaining the reason for his return. “Mr. Kim said he needs to leave soon, Miss. He wanted to see if you two were... finished.” There’s glare set in his eyes for Taehyung's forwardness.

“Yeah, be right there, just one second.” You turn back to Taehyung, exchanging the damp napkin in his hand for the paper you had just written on. “Think about it, I hope you’ll give him a call. I don’t give out his information unless I think it will be of help to someone.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung mutters quietly while reading the slip. “If I were to go see him, would I find you there too?” He looks back up at you, biting his lip after posing his query.

“Likely not, he keeps his sessions very private, but you can always discuss your...” You glance over to Jimin who is still waiting, and well within earshot. “Preferences with him.”

“Then I’ll consider it, thank you.”

After seeing Mr. Kim and his son off, you're left to deal with the stain on your sweater, with only fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your lunch appointment. “Jimin could you call Yoongi and let him know I’m running a little late? I need to stop by my apartment on the way.”

“No need, I’ve got an extra shirt here.” He pulls out one of his own from his desk. “ I know it’s a men’s fit, but I think we can make it work.” 

“Why do you keep that here?” You laugh. He only looks at you and the stain with a raised brow, no words needed to prove his point. “Never mind, stupid question, but I can’t take your shirt Jimin.”

“I insist, go put it on.” He forces it into your hands as you double check your watch, your time constraints leaving you with little choice. 

Stepping behind the dividing wall, you strip down to your camisole, breathing a sigh of relief that the beverage hadn’t seeped into the fabric of the corset. Quickly throwing his button up over top and tucking it in, you check to ensure your intimate garment is still hidden relatively beneath the shirt before coming back out for his opinion “Does it look okay?”

Jimin nods, but when he reaches out to touch the shirt you recoil, fearing that he will discover what you wear beneath. He chuckles and persists, “I’m just fixing your collar.” He moves in closer standing just a couple inches away. Pinching the two seams of the fabric together, he considers the change. “I think it would look better like this.” You nod, keeping silent as he follows through. Pulling the fabric tight around your throat, your breathing is forced to pause for a moment as he fastens the top button. “Better?” He asks, while his hands linger around your neck.

“Much.” You whisper, as his fingers drift up to hold your chin, with the tip of his thumb dragging along the edge of your bottom lip. You stand there confused as to why your flirtatious game has taken such a physical turn. Although his actions are prohibited and should be censured, you can’t fully condemn them, deciding instead to remove yourself, rather than reprimand him. “I-I should go. I don’t want to be late meeting Yoongi.”  

...

It was a productive lunch to say the least, but that was by no means thanks to you. Your focus was distinctly elsewhere. While you toyed with your bottom lip, thinking of how Jimin had touched it just moments before, Yoongi gave you everything you needed to secure several new clients. Even now as you return, disembarking the elevator on to your floor, you still can’t concentrate on the day ahead.

On the walk back to your office Hoseok catches you, quickly pulling you into his own and closing the door behind. “You need to do something about Jimin.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” You ask, nervous that he had seen you two together before you left for your meeting.

“Your client earlier, Mr. Kim, he said that he caught you two acting rather close, making suggestions that you two are involved in a sexual relationship. Usually I would disregard a comment like his but-” 

“It’s not true, you know I wouldn’t!” As much as you might want to act on Jimin’s advances you’ve never crossed that line. You know it must have been bad for Hoseok to bring it up, for him to take this serious tone is evidence of his deep concern. 

“I know that, but this isn’t the first time someone has thought you two might be a little too intimate. Some of the staff have also considered the notion. And I can see why, the way he looks at you, talks to you...” Hoseok trails off as his eyes linger on your apparel in confusion. “You weren’t wearing that earlier were you?” 

“No, I had some coffee spill on me earlier. Jimin was nice enough to loan me his.”

Hoseok tilts his head as he raises his brow as if this validates his concerns.

“He was just being helpful!” You offer, but Hoseok doesn’t look to be swayed, and he’s right, this is a workplace not a morning after situation. “Fine, I see your point. So what do you suggest?”

“Redistribute him, send him my way if you have to, god knows that I could use the extra hand. You could even play it off as a promotion, just get him out of your office.” Your heart drops at the thought, not wanting to give him up. Hoseok seeing this takes a softer tone. “Listen I can see that you like him too. I’m sure it feels good to have his attention, but you need to get this out of your system. You have to put a stop to it. We can’t afford a scandal and you know it.” 

With the assurance that you’ll think on the issue, and giving Hoseok your solution by tomorrow, you return to your office. But the problem is far from easy, though you did not lie about your physical relationship to Hoseok, you have been keeping something from him. From all of them. Jimin will never accept a promotion if it takes him away from you. He’s never worked here for the money, he doesn’t need to when his father owns half of the city, this building included. 

...

-3 years ago-

“Mr. Lee, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” You pull out the chair to sit across from him. The massive mahogany desk of his placing a rather large distance between the two of you. 

“Yes well, my building manager said you were very persistent.” There’s a small roll in his eyes as he looks from you down to the computer in front of him. 

“I wanted to discuss one of your properties, an office space in the Madeline Suites.”

He takes a swift glance at your modest appearance with narrowing eyes. “Forgive me, but I believe that location might be out of your price range.” 

“Monetarily yes,” You agree. “But we offer services which might be helpful to you.”

“I do not deal in favours. I can see that this meeting was a waste of time, you may go.” He waves the back of his hand to shoo you out, while his secretary grabs the door from the outside.

“I am not asking for a favour, but offering you my services. I’m the co-founder of a corporate image consulting firm. And come this time tomorrow, I believe you’ll be looking for someone within our realm of dealings.”

“And what makes you say that?” Lee asks, his words laced with cynicism. 

You lay out the first page of the article which Yoongi had sent you, stretching it across the wooden surface to place it in Mr. Lee’s view. ‘Real Estate Developer Lee Gungsang Faced Prior Allegations of Unlawful Evictions and Price Hiking.’ “This is slated for tomorrow morning’s front page.” 

Mr. Lee is quick to send his secretary off, the door shutting once again. “How do you know about this? These cases were settled before they made it anywhere near the courts.”

“I have my sources.” 

“Then stop this! I will pay whomever needs to be paid to prevent this from leaching out. You want the office space, it's yours.” He’s voice is desperate, you have him on the hook, the question now is, how long will he let you drag him for?

“That’s very generous of you, but nothing will stop this from going out tomorrow. My offer is simply to help you get ahead of it and lessen the damage.” You explain, revelling in the fact that money can’t hide everything.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

You pull out a contract for your serves. “I will need you to sign off on my services first. A small fee plus a far more reasonable price for a three year lease of the offices on the 14th floor of the Madeline Suites”

“Without knowing your plan, I think not.”

You give him a bright smile before mimicking his earlier statement. “I do not deal in favours Mr. Lee.”

He grumbles while taking the pen, eyeing you with a dark gaze as he signs on the dotted line.

With the ink still drying you hand over another small document. “Here are a few of my suggestions. Twenty percent of the commercial residences that you have just vacated will be handed over to non-profits for a drastically reduced monthly lease. I’ll even let you pick which you want to support.” 

He looks up at you mortified. “This is excessive.”

“No this is necessary. I’ve seen corporations do far more than this when they are not dealing with a scandal. Your accountants will agree with me that this is the best move, it can be seen as a donation and therefore tax deductible. For the evicted  private residences, I was thinking of partnering with a refugee resettlement program but we can discuss that more in depth later.” 

You carefully tuck away your contract in Lee’s file before dragging another concern to the forefront. “I do have one more request, before I leave today.”

“What more could you possibly want?” He scoffs.

You lean in to deliver your short but important demand. “A heads up.”

“I don’t know what you mean...”

“I mean if there are any other past dealings or actions which might impact your company I need to be aware of them.” There’s always more hidden in the dark, you have one of those secrets on hand now. You need to see if he’s willing to be upfront with you on every dealing of his past, otherwise you might be forced to dig him out from another grave a couple weeks from now. 

“There’s nothing else.” 

“Nothing?” You ask again as you pull out your phone ready to bring forward more evidence. 

“No.”

“So the knowledge of you having and hiding an illegitimate son... you don’t think that’s important? The existence of the only child of the Lee empire, isn’t newsworthy?”

“How did you-” The terror in his face looks to be even greater than the prior accusation. 

“You attempted to evict all of the residents who stayed in your residential apartment for over 10 years if they refused to agree with a massive lease hike. Park Jimin was the only one who wasn’t touched. He has no record of a job, living off what must be money given to him by his parents, so I looked into them. His father wasn’t listed but his late mother, Park Haesoon, used to work for your company, and 22 years ago she signed a NDA issued by your lawyer.” 

You open to Jimin’s public instagram page turning it around for his father to see. “He may take mostly after his mother, but I can still see a few clues to your family resemblance.”

“When does this one drop?” Lee asks in dismay.

“It’s not going to, at least, not from me or my source. We try not to deal in personal life consulting, but I am going to give you some advice in this matter. Get ahead of it.”

“My wife won’t hear of it.” Mr. Lee mutters through clenched teeth, it’s easy to see that this conversation has him very much on edge.

You nod seeing the crux of his dilemma. “I looked into the approximate date of his conception, you were newly married at the time, were you not?”

“Yes. She knows, but her family does not, they have a large political presence and we cannot afford to lose all support from them. Trust me, the boy is not worth the risk.”

“He’s your child!” You berate the CEO, your anger getting the better of you as you think of the emotional toll on Jimin. Not only did he lose his mother but his father won't even publicly acknowledge him. 

“I won’t be swayed on this matter. If you have nothing else to say you may leave.” Mr. Lee rises from his desk and once again gestures towards the door. “I’ll have keys to your new office space delivered to you tomorrow along with the lease. But I should warn you, if there is even a whisper of his name in public in conjunction with mine, I can assure you, your so-called firm won’t last another week.”

...

Less than a month later you and Hoseok have moved your entire enterprise to the new office space. You’re holding an open house for several different staff positions, when the most unlikely of applicants walks in your door, Park Jimin. 

He hands you a piece of paper which you can only guess is his resume, because your eyes fail to leave his face, your mouth unable to form words in your state of shock. Closing the door behind him, he gives you a nervous smile. “Judging from your expression, I take it you know who I am?”

You manage a single nod, still confused as to why he’s here, now, with you. It’s lucky you’re conducting the interviews alone, otherwise it would be difficult to explain your shock to Hoseok without exposing Jimin’s lineage. 

“I’ve been wanting to meet with you,” Jimin confesses, adding sheepishly, “My father told me of your meeting. He said you took a bit of an interest in me, even found my social media accounts.” 

“Oh, oh no.” You finally manage to sputter out, far more anxious with the younger man than his father. You never intended to meet Jimin, let alone have him find out you dug into some very personal aspects of his past and present. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to invade your privacy. I was only trying to figure out what was going on. And when I learned the truth, I wanted him to own up to his mistake of hiding you.”

Jimin chuckles lightly, sitting down in front of you, “I didn’t come here looking for an apology Miss, I know why you did it. I merely wanted to meet one of the few people to ever successfully scare the shit out of my father.” 

The wide beaming smile accompanying his statement spurs a laugh from you, while also allowing you to relax in his presence. “Sometimes you have to intimidate these people to get them to do the right thing. But I’m sorry I wasn’t able to convince him to go public regarding everything.”

“That’s not your fault. In the end it was just nice to hear that there's someone who thinks I deserve better.” Jimin adds, with a look of sorrow leaching into his smile.

“Of course you do, but I must ask, why come here now?” You take a moment to confirm that it is in fact his resume that he’s handed you. ”I can’t imagine that you need a job.” He’s appearance alone is enough to tell you he’s buried in wealth, though his father has not given him the family name, it looks as if Jimin has gained some of the assets.  

“Actually that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“Your father didn’t pressure you to come here to keep an eye on me did he?” You ask with scepticism. Keeping watch over possible threats wouldn’t be a completely off brand for those of his status. And with you knowing some of his deepest secrets you could likely be considered one of the biggest risks.

“No.” Jimin chuckles, briefly raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’m here of my own volition. Money isn’t my biggest concern, I’ve been hoping to build connections. I want to use my time wisely and work with someone who is worthy of my focus, and that just so happens to be you.” He finishes with a suggestive smirk, making you wonder if you’ve won his affection too. 

“And what does your focus get me?” You ask, trying to weigh the benefits versus the risk. You doubt that Mr. Lee will respond kindly to you hiring his son, but if he continues to deny his son’s  existence then what right does he have to disagree? 

“Anything you require. I was interested in the posting for your secretary, but any position beneath you would suit me nicely.” 

...

There’s no way you’ll be able to convince Jimin to willingly change roles and work for Hoseok instead. But you can’t deny that your co-founder’s points are valid. 

Jimin greets you warmly as you enter your office. “Did you have a nice lunch?” 

“Yeah, it was good.” You respond, forcing out a smile.

“Really? Because you look upset.” 

You curse Jimin’s ability to read you at a time like this. “I promise, lunch was fine. Yoongi gave me some substantial leads.” You sigh sliding back in your seat. With your values shaken and morals questioned by Hoseok, you are deeply in need of someone to brace yourself on. Wanting to step out of the realm of responsibility and control even if it’s just for a moment, you make a request to Jimin. “Would you go fetch Jungkook for our meeting?”

“I can just call him in.” He makes the case looking reluctant to leave your side.

“Please Jimin just go get him. I need a few minutes for a personal call.”

Jimin looks at you crestfallen before finally leaving. It’s not often you keep things from him, he can scope you out too well for that. But Kim Namjoon’s actual role in your life is the one secret you feel is the most imperative to hide from him.

You pull out your cell, not wanting to use his number on your work phone. After two rings he picks up. “Couldn’t wait a few more hours to hear my voice baby girl?”

You're too embarrassed to admit he’s right, settling on another excuse for your call. “N-no I just wanted to let you know that I’ve sent someone your way... sir.”

“Don’t lie to me I can hear the need in your voice.” He chuckles lightly as he taunts you. “Your reference already reached out to me. I’m excited to play with him, is he just as handsome as he sounds?”

“More so.”

Namjoon hums on the line in gratification. “My babygirl, giving me another pet to play with.” 

You blush from the praise. Taehyung makes the sixth person you’ve suggested following the charity ball you met Namjoon at a couple years ago. Where he, much like you, was secretly scoping out potential clients. Every one of those patrons you’ve given him since then has been his pet, but you, you’re his babygirl. 

“I was wondering...” Namjoon’s carries on, in a tone far more hesitant than usual. “Tonight would you be willing to try something a little unconventional? Would you like to share him?”

“W-would that be okay?” He’s never suggested adding another to your sessions before, but you can’t deny you’re intrigued by the prospect.

“He mentioned an interest in you, and after discussing his needs I feel that I require someone other than myself to pin his desires on. You’ll be the carrot while I’ll be the stick. Do you think you could do that for me?”  Namjoon proposes in a low purr dragging every heated thought and possibility to the forefront of your mind.  

“Yes sir.” Your response is instant, with little thought required. Helping Namjoon with Taehyung? You’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity. There’s a small knock on your office door with the return of Jimin and Jungkook trailing behind him. You start to panic while still on the phone with Namjoon. “I’ll see you later then?”

Namjoon can of course detect the change in your tone, but instead of letting you off the hook he pulls you further. “Did someone walk in on you babygirl? I take it they don’t know about this side of you?”

“No they don’t.”

“No sir.” He calls out your lack of decorum, an error which you know you’ll pay for later. “Such a shame they’re missing out. What do you think they would say if they knew of my plans for you tonight? How I intend to hang you like forbidden fruit above another man. Do you think they would approve?” 

Your eyes widen as Namjoon continues and Jungkook takes the seat in front of you with Jimin standing behind him. You clear your throat and hold up your finger to them, gesturing for another minute. Turning away to hide your face as you continue to try and end the call. But hanging up on one’s dom is never advisable, condemning you to listen for as long as he wishes to torment. 

“I bet you would like them watch, wouldn’t you?” Namjoon asks, egging on your sinful thoughts, transferring them from Taehyung over to your co-workers.

You shift your thighs trying to dispel the building need as you consider the notation of them watching. Imagining Jungkook’s wide eyes taking in the sight, likely with a hand on his cock, he’s an innocent man with strong desires. You’ve known others like him before, they act with naivete but when confronted with an opportunity for more, they don’t hesitate to gorge on what is presented to them.

And Jimin, would he accept your darker needs? You wish he would, desperately wanting him to play along, to help mould you into submission. Your head now filled with thoughts of kneeling before him taking him in your mouth while he christens you a good girl. If only you could be sure that he wouldn’t react like most people, like those who condemned Taehyung. Your eyes flutter back over to your secretary who is looking at you with deep suspicion. You desperately need to end the call or risk giving yourself away. “I should probably-”

“Am I embarrassing you baby girl?” Namjoon teases with an amused laugh. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“Yes...”

“Yes sir.” Namjoon reminds you once again. “I’ll release you for now, but I better see you here at seven o’clock sharp. Is that understood?”

You breathe a sigh of relief at the release.  “Yes sir.” After finally hanging up, you offer up an apology. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Jimin inquires with a soft tone, but  a quick lick to his lips shows his intentions to be far from innocent. His clenched fists and hovering nature further pointing towards jealousy.

“No one important.” You smile through the lie, careful in your attempt to comfort him. It’s pointless to keep acting in this way, but you still can’t bear the thought of disheartening his feelings or pushing him away. 

...

After your meeting with Jungkook, you're left with a stack of paperwork and your ever persistent lack of concentration as you try to figure out what can be done with Jimin. Should you just tell him the issue, would it help or would it make the situation worse? If he knows how he is perceived then will the affection stop, and if it does, will you struggle with that loss?

“Can I walk you to your car Miss?” Jimin asks with his jacket in hand. You check the time, reading just after five. So lost in thought you had accomplished almost nothing in the last few hours of the day.

“I think I might just stay here until I have to leave for my appointment, I still have a bit more work to do.” You explain rubbing your hands over your face as you pull yourself from your daze.

“Do you want me to stay too then?” 

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you. But before you go I’d like to discuss something” You gesture to the seat across from you which he takes with hesitation. You’re usually not so formal and he can clearly spot the difference. You open your mouth and pause trying to find the right words as his eyes shine in your direction. The evening sun pouring into the room bathing his skin in with golden light makes it so much harder to stick to the issue at hand. You eventually resort to staring at the irrelevant papers on your desk as you open with your concern. 

“I’m worried that our actions towards each other imply that our relationship is not strictly professional.” You blurt it out quickly, hating every word that crosses your lips.

“Have I been making you uncomfortable Miss?” Jimin’s expression falls along with his question, the heartbreak ringing out clear in his voice. 

“No, no. It’s just, I’m concerned about how others see our interactions.”

“Oh, so someone said something to you then?” 

“Hoseok mentioned that a few people think we appear to be a bit more than boss and secretary.” You know it cowardly to bring Hoseok into this, but the information is second hand. You can’t be sure what others have said exactly.

“Well you do know more about me than most.” Jimin laughs lightly. 

“That’s not what they are implying. They think we are engaged in a sexual relationship.”

“And...” He draws the word out as if the implication is nothing, implying there should be a better reason for your concerns. 

“We aren’t Jimin!”

“Well, there's only one way to fix that.” He stands up leaning towards you over your desk. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it. We could keep it a secret if you’d like, no one has to know.”

You doubt Jimin could keep a relationship between the two of you hidden, with the way he dotes on you already, you’re one passionate night away from finding three dozen roses on your desk. “Someone would find out, and the fall out-”

“Fuck the fall out,” Jimin states with resolve, reaching out his fingers tucking back a strand of your hair before curling beneath your chin. “I’m tired of this charade. Hoseok only said something because he’s jealous. He’s jealous that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Jimin,” You whisper. “Even if that was the case, that still doesn’t make it right.” You pull back from his touch. “You should go. Think about what I said, because if we can’t maintain at least some level of restraint and professionalism... then you might be better off working for someone else in the office.”

“So you’d rather keep your social image than be happy with me?” Jimin accuses, the usual warmth having completely vanished from his face.

“It’s not like that. My standing is my life, it’s my career, any blemish would destroy everything I have.” You attempt to express the fear inside you, the weight that bears on you every day. You already have so many secrets and liabilities, but one as close and extensive as a relationship with him might finally crush you and everything you’ve built. “I like you, I really do, but I can’t take the risk. You have to understand, I’m not like you. I don’t have a secret trust fund to fall back on.”  

Jimin looks as though you’ve stabbed him, pulling away he heads to the exit. “I’m sorry I’m not worth the risk. You know, I thought you were better than that, but it would seem you’re just like everyone else.” 

The door slamming between you echoes through the office as you sag in your chair. Never in all your years have you ever sunk so low. By taking him on you wanted to ensure Jimin’s happiness, to show him his value despite the lack of acknowledgement  from his father, but now it seems you’ve fallen into the same role as those who have hurt him before.

  ...

You type your code into Namjoon’s door, stepping into his hall quickly and shutting the door behind you. It’s just before seven and usually you find him in his living room already waiting, but today it’s empty. Not wanting to disturb him, you take a seat on the couch and wait patiently for him to join you. 

You feel ready to fold in on yourself as you continue to dwell on your argument with Jimin. If you laid out boundaries earlier you likely wouldn’t be where you are now. Hating yourself over his confession, and your inability to accept it. 

There’s movement from the bedroom door as Namjoon’s partner Seokjin comes out to greet you. You look up in bewilderment as he takes your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Namjoon has already started with the other client, so he sent me to fetch you.” 

You nod understanding Namjoon’s divergence from the norm, it wouldn’t be safe practice for him to leave Taehyung alone in a precarious position. Now looking to the door with curiosity, you’re excited by what lustful visions will greet you on the other side. But when Seokjin presents something to you it’s clear that you won’t get to see those sights.

“You’ve been asked to wear this.” He holds out a wide silken strip, one that Namjoon has used as a blindfold in the past. You allow Seokjin to cover your eyes, with a touch far more gentle than you know Namjoon’s to be. You don’t want kindness, craving instead to be broken in by the man in the other room, especially after the damage you’ve done today. The loss of your vision will have to be punishment enough for the time being. 

“Does he want me to undress too?” You ask, touching the silk over your eyes, you're completely blind and already longing for the next step. 

“No he wishes to save that pleasure for himself.”

You smirk thinking he might, you’ve been wearing his gift all day it’s only right that he gets to see it first.  

There’s a knock and a click of the door before Seokjin takes you in hand again, leading you in. The air is warmer and heavier than that of the living room, making it impossible to draw a fresh breath. 

Seokjin pushes down on your shoulder, a wordless order to kneel. The plush carpet meeting your knees as you lower yourself, if only you could reach out to get a better sense of what’s in front of you, but form dictates that you keep your hands on your lap. 

The bedroom door closes, signalling Seokjin's departure. Sending one last wave of clean air before you're smothered once again. Locked away for the night with your master and his new pet. There’s a small creek from the mattress and the familiar rattle of restraints against the bedpost. You can just barely make out the tone of Namjoon’s low whisper as he speaks to the current tenant of the bed. 

Footsteps land to your left, muffled by the wall to wall but still sending vibrations through the floor.  As Namjoon approaches, your heart pounds wondering what his first move against you will be. He takes his sweet time letting the anticipation build as your chest continues to heave in its attempts to take in the thick air. You keep your posture, maintaining your stance with the knowledge that he will inspect you. Head lowered, hands on thighs, perched on your toes as your knees dig into the ground. Your legs soon start to tremble as your feet strain to bear the weight.

Namjoon settles right in front of you, the slow draw of his breath reaches your ears, while the heat of his exhale hits your face. A hand trails up the outside of your thigh stilling the tremor in your legs with a forceful grip. You freeze wondering if your jitters will cost you, you can’t let him find fault not if you want him to reward you with his presence. 

But as he takes your chin tightly between his index and his thumb, you know you're in the clear. He tilts your head up as you breathe a sigh of relief. “Such a good girl, setting the perfect example.” His fingers slide down petting the column of your throat with a firm touch. “I was so happy to receive your picture this morning, did you wear the gift all day as ordered?”

“Yes sir.” You pant back, eager for him to see for himself. 

“It wasn’t too hard for you then, to go so long in such a confined state?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” He purrs in your ear as he starts unfastening your shirt. He hesitates on the buttons for a moment. “Babygirl, would you care to tell me why you're wearing a men’s shirt?”

You swallow not wanting to admit that it’s the fault of the man currently lying in his bed. You plan to take the fall, wanting Namjoon’s undivided attention even if it’s in the form of a punishment. “I spilled something on mine sir.”  

“So clumsy.” He has the shirt completely off now revealing the corset for him and likely Taehyung to see. Namjoon helps you to stand, unzipping your skirt he pushes it to the floor. You feel so helpless without your sight but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind assisting. He uses the soft fabric of the shirt to dab at the sweat beading on your skin. “Who, may I ask, clothed you in theirs? Such an expensive label, he must think highly of you.”

You shift in place, made uncomfortable by your inability to answer. Knowing if you say his name thoughts of him will be summoned to your mind. You don’t deserve to think of him at such a time, not after you led him on and left him dry.

“You don’t wish to tell me?” The feel of Namjoon’s breath leaves you, the sounds of his feet  indicating he’s moved to the right of you. Heading to a space you know to be occupied by a table and closet full of his tools. There’s a scrap of metal and what sounds like the jingle of buckles. 

“No sir.”

“And why is that?” Fingers trail up your arm as Namjoon signals his return to your side. 

“Because I’m not allowed to have him sir.”

“A noble response.” Namjoon reasons while he wraps the leather strap of a familiar collar around your neck. “But I still plan to get that name from you before we’re done.” He buckles it swiftly checking the tightness with two fingers. You thought him finished but he progresses to cuff your wrists in leather too, tethering them together in front of you. 

He leans in again with a hushed request, “Still know your safe word?” You nod repeating is back to him before he leads you on towards the bed. 

Namjoon stands behind you as he presents you to his new pet. When you gave Taehyung Namjoon’s number you hadn’t been expecting this but you can’t deny enjoying the prospect. But you find the silence and lack of reaction from him unnerving. “I asked him not to make a sound,” Namjoon explains, “And he’s abiding by my rules so well it’s he?” 

Namjoon takes your hands helping you to feel the current state in which Taehyung is interned. A Leather cuff just like yours binds one of his wrists with a short chain leading to bedpost. You imagine that his other limbs are restricted to the other corners of the bed, for Namjoon has bound you in the same state before. 

“Can he see?” You ask Namjoon wondering if he has been left blind too, or if he’s eyes are watching you now.

“Can he see you? He can babygirl, in fact, he hasn’t looked away once, and why would he?” Namjoon sits you down on the large bed to join Taehyung before pulling down the matching underwear to your corset. “They’re so wet, have you been soaking these all day?” 

You nod in response. A delighted Namjoon makes an offer to Taehyung. “Would you like a taste pet? A reward for being so good.” Namjoon revels in his situation with a chuckle, the man beneath you must have nodded. “Then open up.” You know what a taste means for Namjoon, those panties of yours are most certainly shoved into Taehyung's mouth. He lets out a groan of satisfaction at the welcome intrusion.

Namjoon’s hands find your waist dragging you up further on to the bed with your knees now resting on the mattress. “You’re going to straddle him for me babygirl.” He shifts you over pulling up one of your legs to settle them on either side of the man beneath you. Your knees bent with your calves coming to rest against his bare hips. Without his billowy clothes he is far more slight than you expected, but his skin feels firm and toned. 

You slowly move to lower yourself knowing what you will come down on top of as you sit, but Namjoon seems to have other plans in mind. He takes your bound wrist, lifting them above your head and latching the cuffs to a chain in the rafters of the canopy bed. Once fixed in place he tests your limitations, a quick tug to show you even with your arms fully extended you are only able to lower yourself to half a kneel. You groan in frustration with the realization you can’t move any closer to the cock that rests below you. It’s just as he promised, hung like forbidden fruit above another man. Your dominant’s flare for the poetic never failing to surprise you.

“Problem babygirl?” Namjoon cooes in your ear. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because if I recall you still need to be punished for your lack of formality on the phone earlier today.” 

Your stomach drops as you realize he’s going to discipline you right now, in full view of Taehyung. The heat rises to your face at the thought of being demeaned in front of another. Namjoon’s hand cups your bare ass, readying it for the assault. “You failed to call me sir twice, three for each lapse should do it.”

While the first strike eases you in, those that follow are not so gentle. The ring of his index biting your flesh with each impact. The third strike is so strong you pivot forward on your knees, your back arching as you bare forward still confined to the corset and chains. The weight of your body pulls painfully on your shoulders for a brief second, but Namjoon is there to catch you. Stopping you before you can slip and more, and propping you back in place before continuing. 

One hand lays firmly on your stomach to prevent the shift from happening again, while the other rubs the curve of your ass mapping where he should strike next. You can feel the warmth in your skin as the blood rises to the surface in reaction to his beating. Your nerves are caught in the struggle between pain and pleasure, even as the sixth and final blow lands. 

“Good girl.” Namjoon whispers his touch disappearing, as you ease down against your restraints. You hang completely by your wrists while your legs quake from the shock. Every nerve in your body feels as though it’s been left on fire with nothing to quench the flames. Leaving you to hang there for what seems like eternity.

“Sir?” You whisper in the dark as the heat continues to build inside you. Wondering where he has gone your body reacts, begging for the return of his attention with a dripping cunt. And with Taehyung below that can only mean the steady drip of your arousal is left to fall on him.

“Babygirl you’re making such a mess.” Namjoon confirms along with a groan from the man beneath you. “But he appears to be leaking too. Do you want some?” You nod eager for a taste. 

Namjoon obliges, grabbing your throat in one hand, he presses a damp finger to your lips for you to take. Your mouth latches over the offered digit, allowing the bitter fluid to sweep over your tongue. You're forced to let it sit there unable to swallow as the grip on your throat tightens, with the strap of the collar digging into your skin. Your mouth fills with saliva prompting you to close it despite your desperate need for air. 

“Does he taste good?” Namjoon wickedly possesses knowing you can barely even nod. It’s when you start to tremble that he finally releases your airway. 

You swallow quickly before letting your mouth hang open in a pant. With your lungs still restricted by the corset your breathing comes in short shuddering waves. “Yes sir, so good.”

“I think he likes having you drench him, shall we give him more?”

“Please.” You beg but Namjoon suddenly delivers a staggering blow to your backside, indicating your misstep. You’re left gasping from the sudden impact, swinging in the restraints as you try to recoil. “Please sir.” Your plea comes again this time with the proper decorum.  

There’s a crinkle of what sounds like a condom wrapper as Namjoon readies himself behind you. His fingers damp with lubrication find your back entrance, your tight hole giving way to a single finger. “You’ve been training for me like I asked?”

“Yes sir.” You almost come at the thought of it along with pleasure with the swirling digit. You’ve dabbled in anal before testing out a few toys, but a few weeks ago he sent you a plug with a tapered t-shaped end, giving you strict orders to wear it to work the following day. Unfortunately that was the date you had scheduled a meeting with your whole team. You were a flustered mess as you fought through your presentation, Jimin’s presence by your side making it so much more difficult to maintain control of your arousal . But the full day of public and torturous stimulation was worth it, for the reward that night was a call from Namjoon. His orders led you through every action of self pleasure.  Telling you when and where to touch before finally directing you to come. You’ve used the item several times on your own since, knowing your practice would help you in this moment. You wanted to make Namjoon proud and take him with little resistance. That desire now intensified with having Taehyung as an audience.

“Then you're ready to take me in front of him?” 

You nod gripping chains of the restraints as Namjoon eases into you. “Just relax.” His hands glide down your shoulders and back, coming to rest splayed across your hips, the tips of his finger root under the corset and dig into your stomach. Your grip eases as you lean back into him. “That’s it.” He mutters quietly as you stretch to accommodate him. “Good girl.”

After taking a few inches Namjoon pushes down on the front of your corset bowing the metal latches back to so they release, with a few clicks and swift presses the garment is off allowing you to breathe deeper than you have all day. 

“God you should see him babygirl, he’s so ruined by the sight of you. You have him panting for you.” You wish you could curse Namjoon for his choice to blindfold you and silence Taehyung, you would take any punishment that came of it, but all you can muster is a gasp while he continues to fill you more. “I wonder how he’ll react,” One of Namjoon’s hands leaves your hips coming to rest with something soft against your aching clit. “When he sees you come.” With a click the object vibrates, throwing you back completely onto Namjoons cock from the shock.

You catch Namjoon’s lustful groan between your cries. He starts to thrust inside of you one hand gripping your chest while the other holds the vibrate down in place despite your bucking hips. It doesn’t take long for you to completely fold. As the heat inside you finally reaches its peak you shatter, your head falling back on Namjoon’s shoulder as you convulse and moan. With nothing for your cunt to clench your legs grip the trussed man between them. He too lets out a sinful groan as the fluids from your fold continue to drip down your legs meet his adjoining skin. 

Namjoon turns the device off and slips out, the bed shifts as he moves in front of you. When his hand cups your face you lean into his touch. “You okay?”

You nod hoping he’ll be lenient with your lack of speech. You hear him whisper as he checks in with Taehyung too. “I’m going to take these now.” Namjoon must finally be freeing him from the waded underwear of yours.

Namjoon’s hands find you again, playing with the arousal dripping down your legs as he drags his fingers up to the source. A finger grazes your folds slipping between without penetrating. You pull desperately against your restraints hoping that it might find its way inside.  

“So are you going to tell me who you’re not allowed to have?” Namjoon asks again. “Or do I have to let you hang here all night?” 

“My secretary...” You give in with a  whisper, hoping that Taehyung won’t hear.

“And what’s his name? Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

The deal is too good for you to resist, you last only a couple more seconds before finally giving in. Crying out, “Jimin,” as two of Namjoon’s fingers breach you. Your sopping slit squelching as he curls his fingers. 

“There it is.” Namjoon sighs, his other hand brushing your cheek. “Is he the reason you’re so worked up tonight babygirl?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stutter as his fingers continue. He gives you another minute of bliss before removing his digits. 

“You’re going to do something for me, okay?” Namjoon asks. You nod as he continues to hold your face. “That man between your legs, you are going to fuck him and imagine Jimin as you do so, is that clear?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Is that okay with you pet?” He asks the other occupant, who still remains silent with his answers. The sound of another condom wrapper, comes as your confirmation.  Taehyung lets out an unexpected high pitched whine, likely due to the pressure that comes with the latex being rubbed down his shaft. You’re already so invested in the lie that he’s even starting to sound like Jimin. 

Namjoon is once again behind you. You can hear the rattle of the length of chain that holds you up and as he sinks back into you, his cock slipping in far easier this time, your body gladly welcomes the fullness of his intrusion.  He then lowers you inch by inch, with little strength left in your legs you are relying only on the restraints and Namjoon to hold you up. After gaining a bit more freedom you can feel the tip of a cock brushing up against you. Namjoon’s arm comes to rest on your thigh as he lines the erection up for you to take it inside. It’s a slow descent, as you stretch to accommodate both of them. Your thankful Namjoon’s mercy for easing you down gradually. 

When you bottom out Namjoon pulls the chain down from the rafters he releases the length from your cuffs, but rather than discarding it he attaches it to your collar, tugging on it as if it’s a leash. Though your hands are still bound together you have the freedom to rest them on the man laying down in front of you. You take pleasure in dragging the tips of your fingers across his skin, feeling his abs flex and his cock twitch inside you as you do so. 

Namjoon starts to thrust, keeping a close hold on your collar. While he pushes you are sent up and down on what you desperately want to be Jimin’s thick cock. After a few thrusts you are shoved forward entirely by Namjoon, colliding with the man beneath you. Your chest is pushed into his, as your bound hands are pinned between the two of you. While your head is left to rest on his shoulder, the tip of your nose is able to graze his neck. As you breathe in your mind continues to play tricks, the smell coming off him mimics that of the cologne your secretary wears, rather than the scent of Taehyung. 

Namjoon must have unbound his legs as they bend up to cradle your own from behind his hips bucking into yours, with both men taking you at a steady pace.

You move in closer to his neck, with a lick you taste the salt of his skin showing  your intentions. Biting down on the spot, you suck in deeply as your teeth dig in even harder. The carnal groans you receive from him sending shivers to your spine. There’s the sound of a soft slap, Namjoon didn’t hit you, but the man beneath you returns to his ordered silence.

Namjoon thrusts even harder, pushing you into his chest repeatedly. The thought of being fucked into Jimin’s embrace is too much to bear. Your cunt clenches as you continue envisioning your secretary, and how you're grinding your clit against his pelvis. 

You cry out over the swelling girths inside you, knowing their both likely to come soon. Clenching down one last time you dissolve in the pleasure and contentment. Namjoon finishes first remaining inside while his pet comes too. He leaves you there laying upon your imagined Jimin, in your daze  you can barely move let alone focus on reality. With a wave of exhaustion you start to slip from consciousness, but not before one last praise reaches your ears. Your delirium grants you the satisfaction of hearing the voice of Jimin whisper, “Good girl.”

...

You can’t remember the last time you slept so well. You woke early to find Namjoon had taken care of you in the night, he released your wrist cuffs, and removed your blindfold, after you had passed out from the physical exertion. The only restraint to remain was your collar which he asked you to wear today. Taehyung was sadly already gone, but you can’t deny it was nice to have Namjoon to yourself before you left. 

Now as you head off to work, showered and freshly dressed, with a turtleneck hiding your gift, you check your phone for the first time. Finding a string of apologetic messages sent from Jimin in the early hours of the morning. You reply apologizing too and asking to revisit the subject as soon as you get into work. Thankfully he agrees, the smiling emoji he ends his text on sends a wave of relief through you.

You step in the front entrance of your building ready to handle and objectively listen to Jimin’s thoughts and concerns. While you wait for the elevator your phone vibrates listing a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hey it’s Taehyung. Hope you don’t mind, I stole your personal number from my father.”

“Taehyung...” Heat starts to rise in your face at the thought of last night. The elevator arrives and you quickly step in. “No, not at all, to what do I owe the honour of this call.”

“No need to be so formal,” He giggles at you.

“Sorry, habit,” You respond. “What can I do for you?” 

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday...” Taehyung starts off. 

But his words are soon interrupted by someone shouting, “Hold the door.” You comply, pushing the button to keep them open, while trying to keep your focus on your conversation with Taehyung.

“...It’s not often that I meet someone who I can be so open with. I called the man you recommended and I’ve scheduled my first session with him tomorrow.”  

You freeze, unable to fully comprehend what he’s saying, surely he misspoke. It can’t be his first session. “W-what do you mean your first session is tomorrow? You were there-” The collar hidden beneath your turtleneck feels as though it’s tightening around your throat. “Last night, I saw you-” The line goes dead as the elevator closes and starts to ascend. It was Taehyung in the bed with you and Namjoon last night. You saw... nothing you saw nothing because of the blindfolded that you were asked to wear.

“Everything okay?” You jump at the sound of the other voice, forgetting that some else had gotten into the elevator. Looking up you find Jimin there beaming at you, his head tilted from his query.

“Namjoon,” You flutter with your phone, too panicked to even greet your secretary properly. “I need to call Namjoon.” But the line won’t connect, not with you in the elevator. “Fuck...” You try again your patience not willing to wait the minute it’ll take to disembark on your floor.  

You are almost there when the elevator shudders and stops. The sudden halt sends you off balance, but Jimin’s there to grab hold of you before you can fall. You thank him before stepping back and putting a bit of distance between the two of you again.

Jimin turns his attention to the panel, pushing the call button, he waits for someone to answer, but the call remains silent. 

While he continues in his attempt to make contact, every scene of the night before floods back to your memory as you try to piece everything together. It was Taehyung, it had to be. He must just be playing a stupid joke. He was surely going to shout ‘gotcha’ before the phone disconnected, but you won’t know for certain until someone can get you off this blasted lift. You sink to the floor and Jimin follows, unable to reach anyone on the outside. 

Despite your best efforts to rationalize what happened, your panicked breaths fail to slow, Spots start appearing in your vision as the elevator sways around you. Your breakfast threatens to make another appearance on the polished marble floor. 

“It’ll be fine. Someone will notice soon.” Jimin attempts to comfort you but even that won’t quash the fear raging inside you.

“It’s not just that...” You whisper. “Something happened last night. I need to call Namjoon, I need to figure out...” Who was actually in that bed with you. Your confusion and panic break free sending you into a fit of tears as you hug your knees to your chest.

“Hush, it’s okay.” Jimin readjusts, moving in front of you and taking your hands in his. He leans towards you as he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry babygirl.”

Your eyes snap to look at Jimin in alarm. Your prior worries are nothing compared to the terror which takes hold now. “H-how do you know that name?” Your stuttered words barely make their way past your lips.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt allowing you to spot a large red mark on his neck, right where you had bitten the man you once thought to be Taehyung. “I wanted to wait a bit longer, I wanted more moments like we had last night but it would seem that someone had to go and ruin it.” You pull back but Jimin’s hands shift to take hold of your wrists, mimicking the manacles that embraced you the night before. “Are you not happy babygirl? You got your wish. And I... I got what I’ve always wanted.”

“This is so wrong Jimin! You knew I thought you were someone else! You knew that I wouldn’t have done that last night if I knew the truth.” 

“Even though I was the one you really wanted babygirl?”

“Stop calling me that! Just because of what happened last night does not make me yours. You lied to Namjoon. You said that I sent you. You told him you were Taehyung!”

Jimin gives a wicked laugh in response to your accusations. “Oh, but you are mine. Namjoon is the one who’s been keeping things from you. He’s been in my employ far longer than yours.” He coos as his fingers tighten their grip on you. “I was the reason you were introduced to him, and I was the one who bestowed you with that name shortly after.”

“No, that’s not possible, Namjoon and I, we met at a charity event.”

“Hosted by my father. Where I told him to make himself known to you, to entice you to become one of his pets. I may have acted the sub last night but I am the one who holds Namjoon’s reins, I always have.”

“No he would never do that! He’s considerate and-”

“Had so much to gain by dominating you on my behalf. Money, power, and an assurance of safety, he would’ve been a fool to turn my offer down. Especially since you were so willing to play along with him. I dare say he enjoyed his time with you, but I was the one who permitted him to touch you. I was there to listen, to read, and to direct every conversation. Those gifts he told you to wear to the office, they were all from me.” He lets go of one of your wrists to pull down the neck of your shirt. Revealing the leather band strapped around your neck. “Today it’s the collar, yesterday it was the corset, and a few weeks ago...” Jimin smirks as he recalls the memory to your mind. “You barely made it through that meeting thanks to my gift.”

  It’s impossible to swallow the admissions coming from him, but regardless of what may be true or false, you won’t stand for any of it. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now.” You reach up attempting to remove the collar but Jimin pushes you to the floor pinning your arms above you as he straddles you. The elevator wavers from the struggle, teetering as you lay captive beneath him. 

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’ve placed yourself in. I hold in my possession your darkest secrets. One’s that will ruin you if they make their way out. Your illegal activity with a sex worker, your inappropriate sexual conduct with your secretary. Not to mention the names and dubious activities of every client you’ve recommended to Namjoon’s services.”  

“Why... why are you doing this?” 

“Because you found me. I worked so hard to exploit my father from the outside, getting everything I wanted without the threat of public exposure. I couldn’t let you ruin it all. When we first met I considered you a threat, but then I saw how easy and enjoyable it was to mould to my will. The more intimate you become with someone the more power you give them over you. Simply being your secretary isn’t enough, not if I want you in a more pliable state.” Jimin hushed whisper mixes with a haunting giggle as his lips come to your ear. “I plan to bend you to fit every one of my needs.”

“You’re psychotic!” You lash out trying to throw him off but he stems your revolt by planting himself further down on to you, sitting on your chest as the elevator sways.

“Psychotic? No, I am simply a man who found his passion amidst his revenge. I know what I desire, and vengeance has taught me how best to take it. So if you want to keep yourself and everything else around you from falling, I suggest you play along like a good girl. Or I promise you, my punishments won’t be as kind as what you’ve experienced before.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, already fearing his answer. He has you trapped in a gilded cage with him, where one misstep will send you plummeting to meet your end. Nothing that comes accompanied by such threats can be palatable.

“At work? To keep the status quo, I’ll remain your secretary, only so I can keep a better hold on you.” 

“Hoseok won’t agree to that. He already thinks I should ditch you. I should have listened to him.” 

“Then you will make him agree or he might have an accident, much like your accountant did. He too thought we were too close, even threatened to say something. Don’t worry I saved us from him, just as I’ll save us from Hoseok if you can’t convince him to back off. Do you think you can get him to agree now?”

You give a solemn nod, with Hoseok on the line you have no choice.

“After hours, we’ll drop the middleman.” Jimin lowers himself further on to you, laying down on top, his weight flattening you to the floor. With his head coming to rest on your restrained arm as he whispers further plans. “Every night you’ll come to me instead, and every morning you’ll have a new gift to wear. When we step off this elevator you’ll act as if nothing is wrong. You will go about business as usual, is that clear babygirl?”

You stifle a sob staring directly up and away from his eyes, not daring to give him the satisfaction of your fear. With little else to cling to, all you can do is agree for the time being, as much as it pains you, you choke out your compliance. “Yes...” 

“Yes what?” Jimin purrs, his lips faintly touching your ear. “Address me properly, or I will find ways to discipline you right here on this lift.” His fingers tighten and nails bite into your skin.

“Yes sir,” you whine as a plea for him to stop. 

Jimin mercifully lessens his hold on your wrists, hitting you instead with a smirk and befouled praise. “Good girl. I knew you’d finally see that I’m worth the risk.”

...

[another-tmnt-writer]

Truth or Dare?

Raphael x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Summary: When Mikey needs another actor for his film project, Raph gets roped into it. He didn’t, however, expect for his costar to be so cool.

Note: There are not NEARLY enough college au fics for the bayverse boys, so have this as my first contribution. <3

Warnings: Swears, mentions of drinking, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Raph, PLEEEEEAAAASE!!!” Mikey folded his hands together, pleading. “We need actors for our project and our group members can’t be in it.”

Mikey, as part of his endeavor to explore every creative program at the university the turtles were currently attending, was taking a filmmaking class. And, as a part of that class, he and his fellow classmates were required to make short projects in order to learn the basics of filmmaking, from writing to directing to using the equipment to editing. As an added bonus because his professor was so especially cruel, none of the people in his group could appear in his project, and while they had managed to recruit some of their classmates to fill in the smaller roles, one of the main roles was still unclaimed.

Raph scoffed. “Mikey, you know I can’t act for shit.”

“You don’t have to actually be good at it!” He pleaded. “You should see some of the other projects. No one in the program is good at acting.”

Raph was quiet for a second, his large arms crossed in front of him, thinking. “How long is it gonna take?”

“Few hours.” Mikey shrugged. He raised an eyebrow. “And your costar is really, really hot.”

Raph sighed, disgruntled. “When?”

“YES! DUDE THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU WON’T REGRET IT!” Mikey ran and returned with a script and a schedule, shoving it into his older brother’s hands. “We film tomorrow!”

Raph’s eyes widened. “TOMORROW?!”

***

Raph went with Mikey to where the rest of his group was meeting to film their project. He hadn’t really had time to look at the script and Mikey assured him that they’d be filming in small enough chunks that he wouldn’t need to have very much memorized at a time. He also didn’t really know what kind of movie it was and he didn’t care; he just couldn’t wait until it was over.

A few minutes after they arrived, so did his costar. And god, he couldn’t stop staring. Mikey was right. God, why was Mikey always right?

“I am so sorry I’m late. The bus almost hit a pedestrian and it was a whole thing.” You apologized.

“Don’t worry about it!” Mikey waved off your concern. “This is my brother, Raph.”

“Nice to meet you, Raph. I’m (Y/N).” You introduced, a warm smile on your face.

Raph didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on him, but instead of the looks disdain he usually got, instead it seemed to be curiosity. Awe, even? Weird, he decided, but not unwelcome.

It was a long, awkward moment before he realized he’d better respond. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you too.”

“Um, you guys can get to know each other a little better. We’ve gotta get the equipment set up.” Mikey said, leaving the two of you on your own.

The filming location was a place you were very familiar with: the library. Particularly, in front of the cozy little coffee shop in the library.

“I didn’t really, uh, look at the script, but I’m guessing they needed a monster for a horror movie or something…” Raph flipped through the pages, skimming.

“It’s a rom com.” You corrected quietly. “I’m the main character. You’re the love interest.”

If Raph could physically blush, he was sure his cheeks would rival the color of his mask. “…Oh.”

“Is that alright?” You asked.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s fine, I just…” He chuckled to himself. “I ain’t ever acted in anything before, let alone anything romantic.”

“It’s not too much, I don’t think.” You reassured him. “I’m pretty sure the most they’ll have us do is awkwardly brush hands. It’s a coffee shop meet-cute.”

“Gotcha.” And while he was relieved, he was also a little…disappointed? Huh. Weird. “So, uh, what’s yer major?”

“I’m a film major. I’m in Mikey’s class and they needed actors, so I’m paying it forward in case I need someone in my project. What’s yours?”

“I’m undecided. Just, uh, taking some time to figure things out, you know. I never really had any…school experience before this.”

“That’s a lot to adjust to.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m getting used to it, though.”

“That’s good! If you need any help with anything, let me know. I’ve picked up a bunch of good tips and tricks.”

He chuckled. “I will, thanks.”

“Do you have snapchat?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“One second.” You fished your phone out of your bag and unlocked it, opening the app to your snapcode, which he scanned and added you. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Raph took some more time reading over the script to get the gist of the scene and you were right. Indeed, it was a rom com. Not his preferred genre, by any means, but maybe he’d warm up to it a bit over the course of the day.

“Hey (Y/N)?” Mikey called from over where they had the camera set up on the tripod. “Do you know how to white-balance this thing? Everything is orange for some reason. Which is a great color, but I’m sure Smith will dock us points for it.”

“Oh, I’ve got you.” You nodded. You looked up at Raph, your purse in hand. “Will you hold this for a second?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He nodded, holding out a giant three-fingered hand to take the bag from you. He watched you walk over to where the rest of the group was standing, crowded around the camera. You worked your magic, shuffling through the menu and helping adjust the camera correctly. Raph couldn’t stop staring. You looked so focused. So passionate. He could tell you really liked film and everything it entailed and he wished he could just find something he cared about as much as you cared about your major.

“Awesome.” He heard Mikey say, his eyes fixed on the camera’s screen. “Thanks!”

“Of course!” You walked back over to where Raph was and he handed you your bag back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mikey walked over to the two of you.

“You guys ready? I think we’re good to start now.”

“All set.” You confirmed, giving him a thumbs-up, and Raph nodded.

***

Raph might have to reconsider his stance on this acting thing. Did he think he was all that good at it? No. But so long as he had you as a costar, he’d act willingly in any project Mikey (or you) needed him for. And at the end of the shoot, he ended up having a really good time. So much so that when you guys were all done, he was…sad. Like, really sad about it.

You parted ways. You weren’t in any of his classes, so Raph wasn’t really sure if he’d see you around that much. And he didn’t see you around…until a few weeks later.

He was at the library studying with his brothers at their favorite table when suddenly, his phone buzzed, a message from snapchat coming in. He looked at the notification, doing a double-take when he read your name there. And when he reached to answer it, he moved too fast and knocked his shell-shaped cell phone off of the table.

Shit.

He bent down to pick it up and when he opened the snapchat, he was surprised to see…the back of his shell? It was captioned: “I spy with my little eye…Something red and green 😉”

Immediately, he whipped around, and sure enough, nestled in a table by the windows was you, looking at him over the top of your laptop screen. You giggled when he spotted you, waving.

Raph nudged Mikey, who was sitting across from him and Mikey traced Raph’s eyeline to where you were, his face immediately lighting up.

“Oh! Hey (Y/N)!” Mikey waved. “You wanna sit with us?”

“Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah!” Mikey motioned you over. “The more the merrier! We can pull up a chair over here on the end.”

So, you gathered your stuff while the guys rearranged some things, putting you on the end of the table, right between Mikey and Raph. When you got over there, you noticed they were sitting with the other two giant mutated turtles on campus, who you had heard of, but hadn’t met yet.

“(Y/N), these are our brothers. Leo’s over there in the blue, our fearless leader. And this is Donatello, the one we go to for homework help.”

“Not tonight you aren’t. This paper is due at midnight and it is…” Donnie glanced down at the clock on his laptop and as soon as he did, he started typing impossibly faster. “Eleven thirty-seven. Do not look at me or breathe in my direction.”

“Noted.” Mikey nodded, a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). You’re in one of Mikey’s classes, right?”

“Yep! I’m in his film class.” You smiled, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “I got the pleasure of costarring with this one.” You nudged Raph lightly, causing him to smile the most genuine smile Mikey had ever seen on his older brother’s face.

Huh. Mikey took note, something devious stirring in the back of his mind. Interesting…

“What did you get on that, by the way?” You asked.

“We got an A! Well, Minus. But you know how Smith is.”

“Dude that’s awesome!” You bumped your fist against his. “Good job. I’m pretty sure my group got a B, but we’re not mad about it. C’s get degrees, as they say.”

“Cheers to that.” Leo chuckled.

“What are you working on today, Raph?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that sent his heart racing in a way he could not explain.

“I have a paper for my Writing 150 class.”

“Oof that sucks. Who do you have?”

“Trainor.”

“Ouch. She hated me.” You grimaced, shaking your head. “She found out I was bi and it was all over for me.”

“Did you report her? I’m pretty sure you can report her for that sort of thing.” Raph asked, trying not to get heated over it. He was pretty sure she didn’t like him very much either, but it was probably due to the fact that he was a giant green turtle. “That’s bullshit.”

“I’m in the process of that right now.” You nodded. “She’s a bitch. I don’t know if they’ll actually do anything about it though.”

“Keep me posted. I might file something too if she doesn’t stop glaring at me during class.” Raph grumbled. “It’s annoying.”

“That would be annoying. Her beady little eyes glaring at you for two agonizing hours of ‘This is how to correctly use a comma’.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”

You glanced at your phone, which buzzed with a text from one of your roommates. “Oh! Uh, do you guys have any plans this weekend?”

“Nope. Why?” Mikey asked, curiosity seeping into his voice.

“My roommate is throwing a party, if you guys wanna come. It’ll be pretty chill. Drinks, pizza, some music.”

“Oh hell yes.” Mikey nodded. He looked at Leo. “Leo, can we?”

“I don’t see why not.” Leo shrugged. “Sounds like a good time.”

“Is there a dress code?” Mikey asked. Now that he was finally allowed to socialize, he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Nope. Just casual. Come as you are.”

“Do you need us to bring anything?”

“If you guys have a drink of choice, bring that, I guess, but otherwise, my roommate’s boyfriend works at a pizza place, so we get a pretty good discount and we have literally so much wine.”

“That’s amazing.” Mikey nodded, making a mental note to look into jobs at a pizza place later.

“We’ll bring a veggie tray.” Donnie said, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop until finally, he stopped. “I finished, by the way.”

“Good job, dude!” Mikey gave him a thumbs up. “You wanna write mine next?”

“Ha.” Donnie stared at him. “Funny.”

“What’s your paper on, Raph? Maybe I can help.”

Raph turned his laptop towards you. “We have to write it about like growing up. You can, uh, read it if you want. I don’t mind. I’m kinda stuck right now anyway.”

“Okay.” You agreed, switching his laptop for yours. You winked. “Trade ya.”

“What are you writing about?” He asked, scrolling to the top of your document.

“Women in Film.” You shot finger guns at him. “I’m about to make some Film Bois REALLLL mad.”

“Roast ‘em, (Y/N).” Mikey laughed, knowing all too well exactly which film boys you were talking about. He was not a fan.

“That’s the plan.” You chuckled and then started reading over Raph’s paper. You had known before meeting them that they hadn’t exactly had the best childhood, but…wow was it eye-opening reading the experience from his eyes. “Holy shit.”

“That bad?” He joked, trying to read your expression.

“No, it’s…Raph, this is really good, but wow. You guys went through a lot, huh?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad, but it sure wasn’t normal by any means.”

“Mmm…” You nodded, looking up at him. “I mean, normal is kinda overrated.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad ya think so. Not many people do.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like many people.”

***

“(Y/N), this place is as clean as it’s gonna get. It’s a party. It’ll be messed up in,” your roommate, Haley, glanced down at her watch, “like twenty minutes.”

“I know, I just…I’m nervous. These guys are basically superheroes. I want to make a good impression.”

“Fair point.”

You swept the kitchen floor and got out the cutest paper plates you had in the cupboard as well as some solo cups and plastic wine glasses. If you could avoid broken glass today, that was probably the move.

The doorbell buzzed and your heart raced, but it was just your other roommate’s boyfriend with the pizza.

“Is Darcy here?” He asked.

“She’s upstairs getting ready, you explained, helping him get the pizza and breadsticks and everything set up on the counter. He’d also brought a few two-liters of Pepsi, which was good. You put it next to the giant jug of fruit punch you’d bought at the grocery store. It was important to make sure your non-drinking friends had something to drink, too.

A few minutes after, guests started arriving. Darcy came downstairs and started up her iconic party playlist. Your neighbors popped in. It was easier to invite them and let them have a good time with you than have them call security on you guys for throwing a party, even if it was the weekend and it was only nine.

You turned off the lamps in the living room and instead set your strip lights to party mode, causing them to cycle through a bunch of colors in time with the music. It was then that the doorbell rang again and you rushed to the mirror to check yourself once more. You adjusted your hair, straightened out your top, and checked your teeth for food. Nope, you were good.

So, with the rest of the hosts distracted, you opened the door. On the other side of it were four tall, green gentlemen, one of them carrying a veggie tray.

“Hey guys, come on in!”

You moved out of the way so they could step inside.

Mikey’s eyes widened, looking into the living room full of dancing college kids. “Woahhhhh this is awesome!”

“Glad you think so.” You laughed. “There’s food and drinks in here, the bathroom is in the hallway, and everyone else seems to be either in the living room or the back yard.”

“Where do you want this veggie tray?” Donnie asked.

“Thank you so much for bringing this, by the way! You can set it over by the pizza boxes. I can get a spoon for the dip.” You said, walking towards the silverware drawer and producing a spoon while Donnie popped the lid off of the plastic serving tray and opened up the dip. You handed him the spoon.

The guys were each sporting their signature color, but they were wearing clothes you hadn’t seen them in before. Usually, Raph liked to wear a large gray hoodie, but today, he was sporting a black t-shirt and an impossibly large red flannel with some jeans. It looked good on him. Like, really good.

Apparently, he was thinking the same thing, because as soon as you were free, he walked up to you and nudged you gently. “You look really good.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you wished you could blame it on wine, but you hadn’t even had a sip yet. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”

Had you worn a red top on purpose? Yes, absolutely. Would you admit to it, though? No, definitely not.

But Mikey noticed. Oh, Mikey noticed everything. And he couldn’t help but think that you and his older brother would make quite the couple. Maybe there was something he could do to just…give it a little push.

***

The time came later, when the party was finally starting to wind down. Some people had left. Your neighbors had gone home, and you’d switched the strip lights to a light, warm color. You’d also switched the upbeat party playlist for something chill to play in the background. The remaining partygoers were all settled in a circle in the living room, eating whatever pizza was left, sipping on box wine, and playing a game of truth or dare.

“Haley, truth or dare?” Darcy challenged.

“Truth.”

“Okay…Fuck, Marry, Kill: Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and…..Chris Pine.”

“DAMN.” She cursed. “You can’t do that to me. Shit. Uh…Fuck Chris…Hemsworth. Marry Chris…Pine? And—”

“Don’t you do it!” You warned.

“Kill Chris Evans.”

“Noooooooooo!” You whined, taking a sip of your drink. The rest of the group laughed. “Poor Captain America.”

“Rest in pieces, Cap.” She agreed, shaking her head. “Okay…Mikey, truth or dare.”

“Dare.” Mikey answered quickly. He always picked dare, so in the fifth round of the game, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“I dare you…to take a shot of straight lemon juice.”

“Easy peasy.” Mikey scoffed, pouring himself a shot and downing it.

You watched as his face contorted at the sour, sour taste. You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that.

“Good job, Mikey.” Donnie laughed, dipping a piece of broccoli in dip before popping it into his mouth.

“Taking it like a champ.” Leo added, nodding.

“Alright, my turn?” Mikey asked, looking around the circle for his victim, pretending he hadn’t been planning this since round one. “(Y/N). Truth or dare?”

You thought about it for a second. How easy it would be to just choose truth again, but for some reason, you were feeling a little brave, so instead, you picked, “Dare.”

“Oooooooh,” the circle said, all of them a little surprised by that choice.

“Okay. Alright.” Mikey rubbed his hands together mischievously. All according to plan. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

“OOOOOOOHHHH!” The circle all stared at you and you thought for a second, a smirk settling on your features.

“Oh that’s easy.” You got up and crossed the circle until you were standing in front of Raph. Even sitting down, he was almost your height. “Think I could get a kiss?”

Raph stared up at you, shocked, waiting for you to say Sike! HAHA! Did you actually think I thought you were hot?! Loser!

But you never did, instead looking down at him with sincerity, patience. Were you a little…nervous, even?

“Why me?” He whispered, his eyes fixed on you. There were plenty of good-looking human guys still there, and yet you were certain. Unwavering. Then, louder, he asked, his heart absolutely fighting to get out of his chest, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nodded, starting to lean closer. Once you were most of the way in, you let him meet you in the middle, your soft human lips meeting his, which were, you had to admit, way softer than you thought they would be.

Raphael kissed you like you were made of glass, like if he moved too fast, you would shatter. It was his first kiss, after all, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

When it finally ended, you walked back to your seat in the circle, your cheeks rosy, heart racing. Haley gave you a nudge and you giggled, your stomach filled with butterflies. The rest of the game went along with little fanfare, and once everyone was tired enough, the apartment cleared out even more, leaving just your roommates, Darcy’s boyfriend, and the turtles, who insisted on helping clean everything up. Well, it had been Leo’s idea, but the rest had agreed to stick around to help.

You volunteered to go out into the backyard to pick up all of the stray solo cups and White Claw cans. You hated litter. You worked out there alone for a bit. As you bent down to pick up the last can you heard the signature screech of the sliding door opening.

Raph squeezed through the narrow doorway, cursing his shell for making him so damn wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your voice was almost swallowed up by the sounds of the choir of crickets outside.

“Hey.” He closed the sliding door. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, tying off the trash bag you were using to collect garbage. “How was your first college party?”

“It was great. Really, really great.” He said, taking slow steps through the grass towards you. “Um…I…did you mean what you said? Earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you…was I really…” he laughed at the absurdity of it. “You think I’m hot?”

“I do.” You nodded. “Of course I do.”

“I’m sorry if I find that a little hard to believe.” He shook his head, stopping right in front of you. When he was standing in front of you like this, he was remined of just how big he was compared to you, just how much he towered over you. Just how different you were. “I’m just used to the opposite reaction.”

“Believe it.” You reached forward and took his hand in yours, gripping one of his giant green fingers.

“I’m trying to.” He chuckled and fiddled with your little hand, nervous. “You know, uh…that was my first kiss in there. I wasn’t too awful, was I?”

“I didn’t mean to steal your first one.” You laughed softly. “Sorry. But to answer your question, I thought it was perfect.”

“That’s a relief.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Uh…If it’s alright with ya…I’d like to give you my second kiss, too.”

Instead of answering, you took another step closer, looking up, up, up into his piercing green eyes. “You’re gonna have to come down here; I can’t reach.”

He laughed. “Right.” Raph craned his neck down, one of his large hands tilting your face up towards his so he could meet you in the middle for another perfect kiss.

***

“What are you doing?” Leo asked Mikey, who was peering through the blinds into the back yard of the apartment.

Mikey only grinned proudly, nodding to himself. “Works every time…”

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida,  it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah…  and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

 ＊

 (Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

 Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

 Rin 9:56 am: ???

 Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

 (Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

 Rin 9:58 am: Ya

 (Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

 Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

 Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

 (Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

 Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

 Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

 Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

 Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

 (Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

 Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

 (Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

 Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

 (Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

 Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

 Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

 Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

 Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

 (Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive 

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

 You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

 You wanted to know more.

 Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

 Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

[johnbroutledge]

fyeahbuddie >>> kelly-severide

rambling about fandom/the future of this blog under the cut.

first things first, cause i know it’s gonna be a question: no, i am not leaving 911 fandom. i still love the show and i will still be talking about it and creating things for the fandom. 

that being said, a lot is going to change.  to be completely honest, i haven’t been happy with my tumblr in a while. i’ve been doing a lot of stuff because i feel like i should, because i think it’s what people want, and not because its what nikki wants and it’s high time i quit doing that. i’m a people pleaser by nature and i genuinely would rather be miserable myself than upset or disappoint other people, and honestly, that attitude re: fandom is making me hate it. 

i’ve put a lot of pressure on myself in this fandom. i felt obligated to gif every new episode and to liveblog and to keep everything up to-date as best i could. i reblogged everything i was tagged in without question, even if if was something that i maybe, personally, wasn’t all that interested in. even when i’d already reblogged 15 of basically the same thing, even when people who don’t follow me and have never spoken to me started tagging me in things and never interacting with me otherwise. i took every single request. i never wanted to be the person who said no. 

i was miserable. 

i literally measured out every single post i made, did i post enough 911? is that too many posts about other fandoms in a row? did i an answer an ask in a way that could possibly upset someone? am i taking too long to respond, will people think im an asshole who ignores them? 

it was around christmas i guess, i was sick as fuck with covid and i was in bed, going through multiple daily panic attacks about my health and rather or fucking not i needed to be in the hospital, and still beating myself up about the fact that i hadn’t made gifsets, that i realized how awful my experience had become. 

don’t get me wrong, y’all, please, i love every single one of you. i am so fucking eternally, crazy grateful that 900 of you decide to be here everyday. but i can’t do this anymore. 

as some of you know, ive been struggling with writers block and it’s one of the big things that i’ve wanted to work on getting through this year. the thing that got me through covid and christmas was this incredible special outer banks fic idea that @daisiesandmoonlight and i have built, that i love so incredibly much, but i literally have talked myself out of even trying to write it because i felt like my first fic back into writing had to be buddie. 

i’m over that too. so, here’s how the future looks for this blog. 

-this blog is multifandom. completely. it will no longer be 99% 9-1-1. i will still be posting/talking about, and creating things for 911 fandom, but it is no longer my sole priority. my interaction will probably go way down as incorporate my other fandoms in earnest.  -i will be making gifs, but when i want to, for what i want to. i will no longer be holding myself to a strict “i’ve gotta live gif every episode” schedule. i will no longer be taking every single request. in fact, i will most likely not be doing 95% of what was in my inbox pre covid. i just, i don’t have the inspiration for it. those of you who have asked for requests via discord, i will still be doing yours for sure.  -i will not be reblogging every single thing im tagged in, if it’s not something im personally into, if im overwhelmed or i feel like there’s just been too much going on, i won’t be reblogging. im sorry, y’all. i really am, i love you and i love being this positive light who always hypes people up, but my tags are insane, especially on show nights, and it’s honestly too much a lot of the time. -if it inspires me, im going to let it. if that means i post 8 gifsets from one fandom in a row, or my first fic back into writing isn’t buddie, that’s okay.  -i will be adding admins to @thebuddielibrary to help take the stress off there. hopefully that is a positive growth for that blog as well <3 -i will continue to be a positive blog in all my fandoms. i will still not be interacting with drama or ship wars or ship or character bashing. that isn’t me and it’s not the vibe i want to cultivate on my blog. 

basically, i’m prioritizing my own self for once. i’m cultivating a blog that makes me happy. i don’t know what that looks like yet, honestly, but im going to find out. and i love all of you, but if you no longer want to follow me, i completely understand. you’ve all gotta shape your own experiences too, and i get that. 

in short: this may not be my final form, but it is my first evolution.  thanks for listening guys. and thanks for being here. tagging some mutuals so maybe i wont get lost. 

@ashavahishta @maygrant @taylor-kelly @briinstardust @sopheliza25 @bvckleydiaz @burzekbrettsey @gilbxrt-blythe @selenaurrr @matan4il @tylerhunklin @deareddie @doctornineandthreequarters @buttercupbuck @hennwilson  @siriuslyjamie @tarlosbuddie @whattarush @evanbuckleyed @evaneddie @herodiaz @nymika-arts @firefighter-diaz @maurawrites @malikjavaddzayn @captaincasey 

im sure i forgot someone so please signal boost this!!! 

[daebakinc]

Ghost

Pairing: Sunggyu x Reader (G) Prompt: Ghost Word Count: 1.4K

~Admin V

             You used to think of yourself as being good at math. In high school you were asked to tutor students before exams. You even got to skip finals because your average was above 90%. But now you were in university and you found out you were not good at math.

             Maybe it was that you didn’t have class everyday like in high school or that you were expected to read the math textbook on your own and understand it. Whatever the case, where you used to bring home As you were now getting Cs, and that was only because you turned in homework and participated. When the homework was returned to you, it was full of mistakes and marked up.

             You didn’t have any friends in class, so you couldn’t have a study buddy. It was also unfortunate that tutoring times were during your class and work schedule. You just hoped you’d be able to retain enough formulas to help you pass the final so you would never have to take math again.

             You sat in your dorm’s common room with your book open, half hoping someone would see your pathetic attempt at studying and come save you. No one did.

             You’d erased the problem you were working on so many times, that as your eraser skidded across the paper this round, it ripped it. Out of anger you balled up the paper and threw it at the wall.

             A shower. That would give you some reprieve from this hideousness. Maybe after you would have a clearer mind. You left your book with notebook inside on the table. If someone wanted to steal it, at least you’d have an excuse for not doing it.

             You took extra time, washing your hair, exfoliating, just standing under the hot water, anything to delay the inevitable.

             You dragged your feet back to your room and put on pjs before going back to the common room. You took a deep breath to brace yourself for what would take you the next few hours.

             When you opened your book, you were confused. On your notebook were all the problems set up. Then, the problems were mostly solved out. All that was missing was the final step and the answer.

             You looked around. Who helped you? You looked at your notebook again. Whoever helped you was very smart. They broke down the problems in more steps than what the professor showed you. It made it so much easier to solve. You were able to complete the homework in no time.

             “Thank you!” you called out when you finished. You skipped happily back to your room. You’d actually be able to get some sleep tonight.

              The next week, math went smoother because you were able to use the new breakdown to solve the new problems given. The following week was a different story, however. Once again, your professor expected you to read and understand the textbook to know how to solve these new equations and memorize the different formulas.

             You found yourself once again in the common room, waiting for someone to help, or at least the person who helped you last time to reveal themselves. No one came.

             You sighed. You closed up your book and notebook and left them on the table again. You needed a break, so walked back to your room to make some ramen. Maybe food would help you focus and think.

             Again, you took your time to savor every noodle. You even sipped the broth slowly. Too soon it was time to go back to your math homework.

             You groaned as you sat down on the lumpy sofa. You opened up all your books ready to work. You gasped. Someone helped you once more! The formulas were written down clearer and equations broken down more simply. You just needed to finish solving them like last time.

             This time when you finished, you took a leaf of paper from your note book and left a note on the table. Thank you, Mystery Math Wiz!

              The next day you walked in the common room to see if anyone responded to your note. Unhelpfully, there were a few responses. You’re welcome. No problem, my good bitch. Fuck math. There were also a few uncreative penis drawings. You threw out the note then decided to try something different later that night.

           After midnight you went back with your math book and notebook. You left them closed as you had previously then went back to you room and slept for the night. When you woke the next morning, you hurried to your math book. You pulled out your notebook and sat on the lumpy couch.

           First on the note was the message you left:

           Dear Mystery Math Wiz,

           Thank you for helping me with the math homework. Do you like cookies? Tell me your favorite and I’ll make you some to return the favor!

           Then, to your happy surprise, there was a response.

           Dear Mathematically Impaired,

           I just couldn’t take the torture of watching you countlessly butcher equation after equation. I don’t eat. Just leave your supplies next time you need help.

           It wasn’t in the realm of what you expected. Couldn’t take the torture of watching you . . . Where were they watching you? It was normally empty in the commons when you did the homework. Now you were a little creeped out. And then the, I don’t eat. Everyone eats. Maybe they just meant no cookies. You didn’t dwell on it too long. Regardless of the strange response, they had helped you with the impossible. And at least they didn’t draw a penis.

           A couple more weeks passed. You left your books in the common room with your notebook as suggested. You left another note as well. After working on art history homework you came out to see if MMW had been to help.

           Success! They organized how to do the new assignments. You looked at the note you left.

           Math Wiz,

           I am infinitely grateful for your math help. Is there anything I can do to repay you? We have a big test coming up. Would you be open to meeting in person for some tutoring? I’m okay with meeting late since that seems to be when you have time.

The Response:

           Math Impaired,

           Really, just seeing the math done correctly is thanks enough. I don’t think meeting will be possible. Just leave tabs and circle the things you need help with. Think of it as me studying with you in spirit.

           The notes and math help continued for the rest of the semester. All that was left now was the final exam. Because of the Mystery Math Wiz, you actually felt prepared.

           You sat in the common room writing a farewell note to them.

           Math Wiz,

           The final is tomorrow. Wish me luck! Thanks to you I think I actually stand a change of pulling a decent grade. It’s funny though. I’m happy math is ending, but I’m sad I won’t have this fun communication with you anymore. Are you sure you can’t meet up? I’d like to think we could be great friends. . .

           “Hi, are you okay?”

           You looked up mid-sentence. A very handsome, but very pale guy stood in front of you. He had a kind of charm, despite his out of fashion clothes.

           You closed your notebook. “Uh, hi. Yeah, I’m okay?”

           The guy chuckled at your confusion. “Sorry. You just looked sad.” He sat down in the chair next to the couch.

           “Ah. I guess I am. I’m sort of writing a goodbye letter.”

           He looked at you curiously then looked at your math book. “A sad goodbye letter to math?” He smiled.

           You smiled back. “No, that is a happy goodbye. There’s a friend who helped me study, but now that math is ending I don’t think we’ll be in contact anymore.”

           “Ah. Well I’m sure it’s nothing to do with you. School life can be busy.”

           You crinkled your forehead. “I guess. I just really wanted to show them how thankful I am. They were a real life saver. I just know we would’ve been great friends, if they’d given it a shot.”

           “Maybe you would’ve if things were different.”

           How vague. “Who did you say you were again?”

           He smiled again. “I’m Sunggyu.”

           You returned his grin and introduced yourself.

           “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’m sure your Mystery Math Wiz knows how much you appreciated the help. You don’t seem too mathematically impaired anymore.”

           “Yeah, you’re right.”

           Sunggyu nodded and got up.

           “Hey,” you called after him. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

           He turned and smiled once more. “Not likely.”

           That threw you. You looked back to your notebook. What an odd response. But . . . did he say Mystery Math Wiz? Was he . . .

           “Sunggyu!” You looked at where he just stood, but no one was there.

[diaphobic]

scenario for sick Subaru receiving care and affection from his beloved s/o?

Admin: Sorry this took so long! Sick Subaru is so cute though~ i added a couple photos. They don’t exactly show the scene in describing, but Subaru looks quite cute in tjem~

Rating/Tags: Sick vampire, it’s fluffy.

Caring for a sick Subaru

Subaru sneezed as you two walked down the hallway at school. He grumbled and rubbed his nose. You peeked up at his slightly red face. It was unusual that he would even sneeze. Vampires can’t really get sick, right? You grabbed ahold of his cold hand to warm him up. He looked down and then quickly looked away. It might’ve been your imagination, but his cheeks grew pinker from your touch.

“Are you alright? You look a bit under the weather.” You questioned softly as you squeezed his hand.

“Vampires can’t get sick, idiot.” He said and bonked your head softly with the back of his hand. You covered your head with your free hand and remained silent.

When you two finally got home he looked even worse. The warmth of the car and the calm ride made him sleepy. He fought back sleep best he could, but he was nearly nodding off in the car. The only thing that kept him from dozing off were the arguments between his brothers.

“Subaru, why don’t you take a nap?” You questioned him when he plopped down on the couch in your room.

“What am I, a kid?” He ‘hmphed’ at the suggestion. You sat beside him and leaned in close to take a good look at him.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked and furrowed his brows. You didn’t respond and brushed the hair off of his forehead. You put your forehead to his to check his temperature. It, oddly enough, felt like a fever.

“You have a fever. I’ll get you a cool cloth to bring it down.” You said and went to leave. He grabbed your arm to prevent you from going anywhere.

“I don’t need it. Just sit here with me.. Achoo!” He said and sneezed again. He rubbed his nose and sniffled from the sneeze. You giggled at his adorable sneeze. He was sick, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“My body.. feels cold, but hot?” He described his feeling. His arms folded as he stubbornly admitted the sickness.

“That’s a fever.” You confirmed. You were able to get away to grab the cold wash cloth. How do you even treat a vampires cold? Blood might do the trick, but playing human might be cute for a while. Ah! Soup might do the trick. It’s warm and light on the belly. It should warm him up in no time. You quickly got to making a light soup for his cold.

“Oi, what took you so long!” Subaru grumbled when you finally got back. He didn’t have much energy to use arguing on you, so he dropped the question when he saw the soup in your hand along with the cloth.

“..Soup? Really? Seriously..” He looked away. You can tell he actually likes the attention, but doesn’t want to admit it.

“I thought this might warm you up. Here, open up.” You smiled as you got a spoonful of broth for him. He kept looking away. “Subaru.. Look here.” You said and pouted a bit. He reluctantly turned his head to face you. His face was red from the fever and embarrassment. You smiled at his innocent look as he opened his mouth. He swallowed the soup.

“It’s.. good.” He shifted on the couch. He put his hand on his forehead to check his own temperature. He clicked his tongue at the fever. You set the bowl down and got the cool cloth.

“Lay down.” You urged him.

“Haah? Why do I have to do that!” He protested. You practically shoved him down. He is weakened from the sickness, so he has no other choice but to comply. His hands were resting on his belly as he looked up at you. You sat beside him and brushed his hair out of his face.

He looked up at you without much protest. This is one of the few times you’ve seen his full face. You cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.

“Mm! You could get sick, idiot!” He scolded you. You laughed and shook your head.

“I’ll be fine. We still don’t know why you’re sick.” You shrugged. You put the cold cloth on his forehead. He sniffled a bit.

“Does it feel good?” You asked. He nodded. You put your hand to his cheek and began to rub your thumb over his cheek. He was breathing through his mouth because of his stuffy nose. He was shockingly calm today. Usually he would be too stubborn to let you care for him or even touch him this much. This sickness, even though painful to him, might not be so bad after all. His soft breaths could be heard as he fell asleep. You continued to softly stroke his cheek as you watched him fall asleep. You’re well aware that you’ll be getting an earful about this later.

[cuuno-moved]

after it all (or: boomer fucking dies)

inspired by @sleepsart's incredible comic

tws for: a very graphic car wreck and death (but it gets a semi-happy ending)

They woke up in a dark room.

That’s it. That’s all they knew. It was dark, and they were cold. Not cold in a ‘freeze to death’ cold, but in a ‘put on an extra sweater before you go out’ cold.

They didn’t have an extra sweater. They didn’t even have a sweater. They stood there in their baggy white t-shirt and light grey sweatpants, and they shivered.

They missed their hat.

They didn’t even know what their hat looked like, only that they didn’t have it, only that they missed it.

They called out, a few times. A plaintive little cry for help, met with an echoing silent indifference.

It was quiet in a way nothing was quiet.

Not even their footsteps against the ground filled the silence, the quiet thunks hardly doing anything to fill the sickening empty void.

Finally, there was light, and they could breathe.

It was still dark, of course, it wasn’t that kind of light, but there was light.

It was a woman.

It was a giant woman, nearly too tall to take in one look, with a long black veil, and a long red dress. A ring shone on her hand, a diamond the size of their head.

She was watching them.

They weren’t sure how they could tell, but they could.

“Hello.” They murmured, although they were still far enough away that she couldn’t possibly hear them.

“Hello, my child,” She responded, calmly and beautifully, and she knelt. “I’m sorry you ended up here when you did.”

“Where am I?” They asked.

“You’re safe. You’re home.”

“I’m cold,” They said, pulling at their tshirt. “Why am I cold?”

“It’s often cold here,” She said, apologetically. “Sometimes it’s not, but often it is.”

“Ah,” They said, understandingly, although they didn’t understand at all. “Who are you?”

They felt the woman smile, although they couldn’t see it. “I am the lady of the crows, I am the final hope, I am the mother of night, Angelwife.”

“Trixtin,” They murmured, reverently. “Goddess of Death.”

She nodded, and they sank to their knees.

“Who am I?”

“Remember.” Trixtin said, gently.

“I can’t,” They moaned, tugging at their shirt. “I don’t remember anything.”

“Yes you can.” She said. “Now remember.”

And they did.

It was a beautiful day, the day they died, and not just because they were finally going to be free. The sun was a beautiful shade of blue, the sun was shining and there was just a hint of a breeze. It was beautiful. It was freedom.

Hannah had turned on the radio in the car, and as some generic pop song played, she tapped her fingers against the wheel, bobbing her head. Her little pink sunglasses sat on the tip of her nose and she took a sip of her cherry soda as they raced down the road.

They were almost like any other friends on vacation, any other young adults, fresh out of high school, exploring the world.

For a moment, they tried to pretend they were, that they were sat beside Hannah on a road trip across the country or whatever, instead of running from a fighting ring, desperately searching for her brothers, who may or may not have found some sort of paradise-

“Boomer.” She said, sharply. “I can hear you overthinking from here.”

“I just… I’ve been in there for years,” They said, tiredly. “I’m not even sure where we’re going.”

“I told you,” She said, laughing. “Punz sent me a letter. There’s an SMP, it’s safe. He’s on good terms with the admin, we’ve got special permission to enter.”

Boomer hummed, pulling their knees up to their chest. “I miss him.”

“So do I,” She said. “So do I…”

It was quiet for a bit, before they spoke again, quieter this time. “Do you think they’ll send anyone after us?”

Hannah sighed, running her fingertips over the leather stitching of the wheel. “No. Hypixel has so many players, we’re hardly a drop in the bucket. Us leaving is like… it’d make it worse if they admitted that they let us get away. Pretend they’re in control. Pretend we’re not a threat on the outside.”

“Are we?”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. They weren’t going to do anything to try to stop Hypixel. They weren’t going back. They weren’t going to try to help anyone else escape.

When Technoblade finally got out, when he was released, he told the news he would never go back. For months, the news proclaimed in big letters: ‘Hypixel legend Technoblade swears to never return.’ The players cursed his name. They told each other that if they ever excaped, they would help each other.

They wouldn’t though.

They weren’t revolution leaders.

They were kids and teens and tired gladiators, sick of fighting, sick of the pain of death and respawning and despairing.

Boomer let their head rest against the window, bouncing off the glass. “You know where we’re going, right?”

Hannah tapped the GPS with one long, acryllic nail. “Yeah, baby. Only two more hours.”

Boomer nodded, smiling. “Okay. Okay, good, that’s alright then. We’re good.”

“Take a nap, Boom,” Hannah said, reaching over to grab their hand. “I’ll take care of us, don’t worry.”

Boomer chuckled. “I know. Night, Rose. Wake me up when we get there.”

They woke up two hours later to Hannah cheering.

“We’re there!” She cried, beaming at them. “We’re safe!”

They stretched their arms up, cracking their back. It was getting dark out, but it looked like rain was on the horizon. It was still beautiful, trees and valleys and beautiful mountains.

They felt their heart swell.

They weren’t sure what happened next.

One moment, they were watching the clouds brush across the sky.

The next, a cow was in the road and Hannah yanked the wheel to the side.

The car went off the road.

Their head slammed back, then forward, and then, suddenly, they were upside down.

Their chest hurt.

Their stomach hurt.

They were bleeding.

They couldn’t breathe.

“Hannah?” They rasped, craning their neck.

She was still in her seat, at least, her eyes unfocused and wide. There was a cut on her forehead, and the blood ran into her hair, turning the brown curls rusty. As soon as they choked out her name, she seemed to snap to attention.

“Boomer?” She murmured. “Oh- oh god.”

She reached down to her seatbelt, rattling it, and finally, it unlatched, releasing her, and she fell hard.

“My seatbelt is stuck,” Boomer choked out. “I can’t… I can’t move.”

“No-” Hannah gasped, and crawled closer. “No, no it can’t be.”

She pressed the latch, then tugged, then yanked, then she let out a scream, ripping at the belt itself.

“Hannah,” Boomer said, grabbing at her hand. “Hannah get out. Go. Save yourself.”

“No,” She hissed, almost ferally. “No, I’m not fucking leaving you.”

“What more can you do?” They murmured. They were losing blood fast.

“...I’m going to get help,” She promised, pressing her lips together. “Just… stay here. Don’t die on me.”

“Okay,” They lied. “Okay.”

She wriggled her way out of the car though the shattered windshield.

They blinked.

It was raining.

They were bleeding.

It hurt.

There were footsteps.

They blinked.

Two pairs of hands were tugging on them.

They opened their eyes.

They were being held.

A man stared down at them.

He was talking in a soft humming tone, his hands pressed against their neck.

They couldn’t feel their legs.

They blinked.

It was all so dark.

They couldn’t see.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Punz laughed, flicking at their forehead. “Open your eyes!”

They did.

They were alone.

No, Hannah was here.

The man was here, too, his voice still deep and reassuring.

His solid black eyes shone with tears.

He was crying for them.

He didn’t even know them.

They were so tired.

They pressed their hands to the ground.

They were laying on the grass.

Hannah was carrying them.

They were falling.

They were in a car.

They were in a tournament.

They were alone.

It was cold.

Trixtin watched them.

They stared back.

“My name is Boomer,” They said, quietly. “I’m Boomer.”

“Yes you are,” She agreed. “You are Boomer.”

“...I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Who was that man?” They asked. “The one who held me, in the end.”

“His name is Sam, he will look after Hannah as long as he can. They buried you, in her garden, by the rose bushes.”

“Will they be okay? Hannah and Punz and Purpled?”

“... I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Can I go back? Please? I don’t- I have to help them. I’m too young-”

“You can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why not?”

At that, she hesitated, thought it through. “It isn’t your turn.”

“That’s bullshit.” They spat, even though they knew cursing at a goddess was ill advised in every way that counts.

“Oh?” She sounded almost laughing, like a mother who’d caught her child with his mouth full of chalk. “Why is that?”

“I didn’t get to fucking live, man. I didn’t get to stop all that bad shit from hurting them.”

She seemed to blink. “Oh…”

“Can I at least have my hat?”

There was a pause, then, before she sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” They said. “Thank you so much.”

Death hummed, standing slowly. She towered into the misty darkness above them, and for just a moment, Boomer saw under her veil, saw her skeletal face and shining ruby eyes, and then she turned, and walked away, and they were alone.

Alone.

[ghastspidergwen]

I love @doctorsiren's dadskall au, and I thought I'd write a little fic about it. basically, the dadskall au is where xisuma and ex (alex)'s dad is doomguy, but some sort of accident/crazy magic/whatever made him and iskall share a body, go check out doctor siren for the whole story, she has great art, too!

disclaimers (you can completely ignore this section if you want): I have played about 15 minutes total of all the Doom games, read none of the books, seen none of the movies, but the ost is great, so this will probably be ooc for doomguy. xisuma and alex are more based on the featherweight au versions, not the real hermitcraft versions. this story is not part of the dadskall au nor any of dr siren's other aus, it's just a break for me to write some fluff. it takes place ~3-4 years after where fw currently is (s7 election era) but is not set in the fw au world. link to the post part of this is based on. ...and I think that's everything, onto the fic!

.

Xisuma took a deep breath, “I think dad’s alive.”

“You said you saw him die,” Alex, previously known as Evil Xisuma, said, turning to his brother, “They told me he died”

“He wasn’t exactly dead, it’s hard to explain. It’s more like...the horcruxes in Harry Potter. When dad died, I think there was some magic at play that made it so his ‘soul’ transferred into the nearest healthy, person. And I think I found them.”

“Uh-huh, and who might that be?”

“HALLO!” Iskall burst in, “What did you need me for?”

“Iskall? Seriously?”

“He was there that night and I have no reason to believe-”

“You really think Iskall-”

“It’s my best guess, everyone else was injured, and the magic had to choose the nearest healthy person, so it must be Iskall.”

“What must be Iskall?”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Iskall?”

“No, Iskall86,” Xisuma said, sarcastically, “Of course this Iskall, how many Iskalls do we know?”

“I still have no idea what we’re talking about, can -”

“No!” The void brothers turned to him and responded in sync. Xisuma pulled his brother into a side room, “Stay right there, thanks Iskall.”

“What?”

Xisuma exhaled and closed the door behind them, “Phew, OK, I have reason to believe that 13 years ago, Iskall was present the night that dad-y’know-and since everyone else there was either corrupted or injured, as the only uninjured person, dad’s spirit ended up inhabiting his body, but’s been so weak that it was only using Iskall as a means of staying alive, not influencing him or trying to take control of his body at all. Do you get me?”

“A little.”

“And I think I know the spell that will separate them, and give dad his old body back,” They went back into the main room with Iskall, “Should I do it now?”

“Blast ‘im,” Alex backed out of the room, putting a protective wall between him and the magic.

“WHAT?!”

A glowing green ball of energy swirled between Xisuma’s hands, and Iskall backed into the wall, “H-hey Xisuma, what are you doing?”

“This...shouldn’t hurt.”

Iskall held up a hand in a stop gesture, “SHOULDN’T?!”

Xisuma blasted him with the magic. Iskall glowed green, floated into the sir, then split into two people who fell down.

“I...think it...worked,” Xisuma muttered, collapsing to the floor.

Doomguy looked up, and noticed someone lying, unmoving, on the floor. His saving-people instincts kicked in, and he pulled himself over to the person. “C'mon, don’t be dead, don’t be dead,��� he said, shaking them.

Someone was shaking Iskall. He sat up and opened his eyes, “Holy heck, it’s Doomguy!”

“You’re alive!” Doomguy said relieved, and pulled Iskall into a hug.

Absolutely starstruck, Iskall sat there, frozen. It’s Doomguy, I love Doom, Doomguy is right here, and he’s hugging me, it’s Doomguy! Iskall’s mind looped.

Pulling out of the hug, Iskall spotted Xisuma crumpled on the floor, “W-wait, I got-gotta check on my friend.”

Doomguy turned around, and spotted his son on the floor.

“Xisuma!” He stood up and stumbled toward him.

“Wait, you know Xisuma?”

“He’s my son. Well, your son, too. Our son.”

“Wha-”

“Short answer, I am you. You are me. We’re the same person.”

Looking at his hands, one thought crossed Iskall’s mind, I’m Doomguy. It was closely followed by “I HAVE A SON?”

“Two sons.”

“TWO SONS? And one of them is dying!” Iskall sprinted across the room and cradled Xisuma’s head, “I don’t know what to do!”

“Health potion?” Doomguy suggested.

“Oh, yeah,” Pulling a potion of healing out of his inventory, Iskall splashed it onto Xisuma. He held his breath and waited to see if it would work.

Xisuma opened his eyes. He sat up.

“Dad!” He jumped up, and buried his face in his dad’s chest plate, giving him a hug the same way he did when he was younger.

“I’m your dad, too,” Iskall said.

“You know?” Xisuma asked, breaking off the hug.

“Yeah, Doomguy told me. So give your poppa a hug,” Iskall uncrossed his arms and gave a very confused Xisuma a hug.

“Oh, OK,” Xisuma awkwardly pat Iskall’s back until he stepped away.

“Is Alex here?” Doomguy asked.

“He should be right outside, he didn’t want to be in the same room as an untested spell.”

“Wait, you didn’t test it? Then why did you cast it on me?” Iskall asked, panicked.

“How many people do we know that have another person living inside them?”

“Wels/Hels, I’m pretty sure Ren did for a while, a pregnant lady,” Iskall ticked off on his fingers.

“Different circumstances. Wels and Hels are one person, like two sides of a coin, Ren-I don’t know what happened with Grimdog or The Red King or whatever, but I definitely don’t want to mess with those, and did you just compare yourself to a pregnant woman?”

“Uhhh...nevermind.”

“You said Alex was just outside?”

“Yeah,” Xisuma pulled the door open, to reveal Alex sitting on a bench outside, drumming his fingers against the seat

“Did it work?”

“Yeah.” Stepping out of the doorway, Xisuma revealed their dad standing behind him.

“Hi, Alex.”

“Dad?”

“It’s me,” Doomguy sat next to his other son.

“Dad!” Alex hugged him, and they pulled Xisuma into the hug after a second. They sat there before the hug was interrupted by another pair of arms joining in.

“Family, together again,” Iskall sighed.

“What’s up with him?” Alex asked, glancing at Iskall.

“I’m part of the family, call me Dadskall.”

“OK...Dadskall, can we have awhile alone with our dad?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. See you later.” Iskall trudged out of the room.

“I haven’t seen you guys in forever! How long was I…”

“15 years.”

“So that would put you guys in your mid-30s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Has anything big happened in the last 15 years?”

Alex pulled off his helmet, “Nothing too bad. I was imprisoned for a bit of it,” he glared at his brother.

Xisuma also removed his helmet, “I said I was sorry, how many times do you want me to apologize?”

“I wasn’t saying it’s your fault, I was just making the point that-”

“I get it! I was an idiot and I didn’t listen to you when you were clearly right.”

“Just like old times,” Doomguy chuckled, he examined his son’s faces, “You look so much older, like real adults. I’m so sorry I missed out on the last 15 years, I would’ve loved to see you grow up.”

“It’s not like you could do anything about it.”

“I know you would have been here if you could.”

“Also how did you guys get those scars?”

“Someone needed to keep slaying the demons after you left,” Alex shrugged.

“I angered some Watchers years ago.”

“You angered some Watchers?” Doomguy asked, standing up.

“I just realized someone was right, but it was too late to save them.”

“Darn right, I was.” Alex and Xisuma also stood up.

“I...forgot how tall you were,” Doomguy said looking, at up at Alex, who was only a few inches taller.

“Oh, yeah. Xisuma was jealous he never got this tall.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Sure,” Alex smirked.

“So, anything else new?” Their dad intervened.

“Daisy’s still alive.”

“Should’ve guessed,” he chuckled.

“Oh! You’re a grandpa!”

“What?!”

“Yeah! I adopted a guy named xB. I’ll call him over, so you can meet!”

<Xisuma> hey xb, can you come on down to my base, I’ve got something to show you

<xBcrafted> ?

<xBcrafted> yeah, be there shortly

“How did you meet this xB?”

“I was doing some exploring between seasons, looking for a good seed, when I found a small single player world. xB was alone in there. Poor kid was only 13, didn’t know where his parents were, said he had been handling himself for the last 2 or 3 years, so I took him back to Hermitcraft with me. He’s a great kid, you’ll love him.”

“Xisuma has practically adopted the entire server.”

“Server? You’re an admin?”

“We both are. I’m main admin of Hermitcraft, Alex is the backup admin.”

“I’m so sorry I missed out on all of this stuff. I really wish I could have been there for you two.”

Something thumped into the outside of the building they were in, and the door opened, “Freakin’ rockets, stupid friggin’ elytra,” xB mumbled. “Oh, hey Uncle Alex, hey, dad.”

Doomguy gasped, “I love him already!”

“Wha-”

“xB, this is our dad, Doomguy.”

“Wait, I thought he was dead.”

“Wonky magic stuff.”

“OK then. I’m xBcrafted,” xB said, offering his hand for a handshake.

Doomguy scooped him up in a hug, “Hello, xB, you can call me Grandpa Flynn, or just Grandpa, or just Flynn, I don’t care. I have a grandson!”

“Nice-to-meet-you,” xB gasped.

“Dad, I don’t think he can breath.”

“Oh, right,” Flynn released his grandson, “sorry, got a little overexcited.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Glad to be back.”

“Do you want to go meet the rest of the server? There’s just under 30 of us, total.”

“Oh, you’ll love all of them. There’s me, of course, but Hypno and Jevin and Wels and False are all set up near me, Stress and Gem are also pretty close, and Doc and Ren are just past them, and…” xB rambled as the other three grabbed their helmets.

“You ready?” Alex asked, pushing open the door.

“Let’s go, I want to meet the rest of your family.”

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

I've been thinking a lot about the Sheriff role, and mainly, about what actually happens when the Sheriff picks the wrong person and dies. I imagine the game code just kills them with a heart attack or something...but I'm thinking less about the game mechanics right now and more about what it would be like for the person who the sheriff tried to kill. Just, one of the Hermits having somebody they know has been following them around and mistrusting them, only to watch that person drop with seemingly no warning or reason... The Sheriff dying in the crewmate's arms as they try to save them, or maybe just try frantically to think of some way they won't be blamed for the death...long story short, I'm in the mood for some angst with a wrongful Sheriff kill attempt, if you happen to find that inspiring.

soooo i wrote the thing and only then reread your request and saw the word “hermit”... whoops… i’ve used the friday night crew, hope that’s okay lol

honestly i’ve started defaulting to the friday night crew, especially when it’s not specified which crew is wanted :)

…

At the end of the first meeting, Brody heads over to communications to do his download. As he does, he quickly realises someone is behind him. “You appear to be following me.”

“Uh huh,” says Joker, watching Brody with the expectant expression of a child who wants to ask their parent for something. “You appear to be doing the download.”

“I AM doing the download,” Brody responds.

“Uh huh. Are you faking it?”

“...if I was, do you really think I’d say yes right there?”

“I dunno.”

Brody finishes his download and goes up to admin to upload. Joker follows him, causing his friend to shoot him a scowl. “Maybe you should spend less time bothering me and more time doing your own tasks.”

“I think you’re the imposter,” Joker states. “I want you to kill in front of me so I can get you kicked off.”

“What’s stopping me from just killing you right here in front of no witnesses?” asks Brody casually.

Joker stares at him for a moment. “Gonna be honest, I did not think of that.”

Brody snorts. “I thought not. Lucky for you, I can’t kill you this round. Get outta here and do your tasks.”

Joker moves away from Brody and watches him stand at the panel, apparently uploading. He shifts from foot to foot, before pulling out his gun and aiming it directly at Brody. Despite his flippant attitude to the whole situation, he genuinely believes Brody is not a crewmate.

So he pulls the trigger.

And immediately lets out a scream.

Brody whirls round, startled, to find Joker collapsing, the gun clattering to the ground. Reacting fast, he catches his friend and carefully lowers him down, trying not to panic. “Nonononononono! Joker, stay with me! Stay with me, buddy!”

He feels Joker’s wrist for a pulse. He finds one but it’s weak, and getting weaker by the second.

“Stay awake, Joker!” Brody hurriedly taps Joker’s face. “HEY! Stay with me! C’mon, please…!”

But within a second or two, the light in Joker’s eyes fades and his weakly moving chest settles.

Brody hangs his head, hugging his friend’s body close to him. “Damnit, Joker,” he whispers. “Why…?”

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice the arrival of two more people until one of them reports the body and everyone is teleported to the meeting table.

“Brody just killed Joker,” says Endless immediately. “We saw it.”

Skizz glares at him. “No we didn’t! He was next to the body when we got there but we didn’t see him do it! We didn’t even see the body flop. It coulda been a swooper, lover kill, anything.”

“Okay, but you get how bad it looks that he was sitting next to the body, not reporting it, right?”

“He was cradling Joker in his arms! Have some compassion, man!”

Brody stays silent and lets them argue. There’s no point in trying to interrupt while someone is fighting his corner for him. Plus, he’s still semi-stunned from what just happened.

Finally, Etho speaks up: “Guys, guys, guys. Shh for a second. I wanna hear what happened from Brody.”

Everyone turns expectantly to him.

“Joker tried to sheriff me,” Brody says quietly.

“Why are you so sure?” asks Etho. “Are you saying there’s no way it could’ve been a swooper or lover kill?”

“I’m certain. Swooper kills and lover kills leave behind wounds; failed sheriff kills don’t. There was no blood, no wound on Joker’s body, nothing.”

“I can confirm there was no blood,” Skizz says. “Endless?”

Endless nods reluctantly. “I mean… I didn’t see any. But I still think it’s incredibly sus that Brody didn’t report it.”

“I was in shock,” says Brody truthfully. “Given a few more seconds, I probably would’ve reported. But I was just too shocked.”

He stares down at the table, Joker’s cry of pain echoing in his ears. He’s said his piece. It’s up to Etho now. Etho has so much pull; if Etho is unconvinced, Brody will be voted out.

“C’mon, you? Shocked?” Endless is clearly completely unconvinced. “You’ve played enough of this game that seeing someone die shouldn’t really faze you.”

Brody fixes him with a cold look. “He died in my arms. I literally saw the light leave his eyes. Tell me that wouldn’t affect you too.”

Endless simply meets his gaze and doesn’t respond.

Finally, Etho says, “I believe Brody here. Endless, why were you so determined to say he did it?”

“Because it really did look like he did it. Sorry if he didn’t.”

To Brody’s relief, he’s not voted off. He leaves the meeting table with everyone else and heads back down to admin to finish his upload. After he’s done this, he realises he forgot to swipe his card, so he goes to do this now.

But as he gets out his card, a shadow falls over the table. He looks up and his heart skips a beat as he registers the figure standing there, aiming a gun at him.

“Sorry, Brody, but since you’re clear, you’re of no use to me,” says Endless emotionlessly.

Before Brody can even open his mouth, there’s a loud BANG and his vision immediately goes black.

“-ake up, dude! Brody!”

Brody forces his eyes open and finds Joker’s face peering down at him. Blinking, he sits up. “Joker? Oh great. I’m dead, right?”

Joker slowly nods. “Yep. Endless got you.”

“I shoulda known it was him from the way he was SO eager to push your death on me.”

“Yeah, about that…” Joker rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, dude. I tend to not trust anyone in this game so I took a shot and… yeah. Turns out I didn’t just kill myself, I ended up traumatising you.”

Brody gives a chuckle. “It’s okay. I’ve just never had a sheriff fail to kill me before. It kinda shocked me.”

“I don’t blame you. I guess I’d better be more careful about who I go after next time, huh?”

Brody raises an eyebrow. “You? Careful?”

“I know, I know,” Joker snickers. “I’m probably gonna forget about this in, like, three rounds, tops.”

“I think you’re vastly overestimating your attention span and level of dumbassery.”

“Shut up.”

[votederpycausemufins]

*arrives with a cup of hot cocoa instead of coffee* oh hey, you know you guys have been waiting long enough. Here’s the captain. Just ignore the Mumbo in the background having a crisis

@petrichormeraki

Grian regretted going through the portal almost immediately as a wave of nausea hit him. “Are you okay mister grain?” he gave a weak laugh at Crumb already figuring out that nickname.

“Yeah, just didn’t expect this place to be so charged with Vault God energy. Oof, no wonder I can’t remember anything. Can you try sending a message to Tommy?”

“Ye ye ye!” Crumb replied before tapping away at her own communicator. She stopped, jumping as someone wearing a white mask with a black symbol on it landed in front of them.

“Heyyyy!” Grian pointed finger guns at the Watcher that landed in front of him.

“Xelqua. What are you doing here?”

Grian frowned, recognizing the voice. “Ugh, Lynn… Look, I’m just here for my family and a friend of Tommy’s. I didn’t know it was going to be this bad.” He fumbled as Lynn threw an identical mask to the one she was wearing to him. He put it on and felt relief as it helped stabilize him a bit, though he could feel it activating his Watcher powers further. “If you know where they are, I can be on my way.”

“Fine, try not to take too long.” She gave Grian some directions before leaving.

Grian went to pick up Crumb, but found her looking a little scared. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Well, when me and Tubbox was getting flown away by the big bird, it made a portal dat looks like dat.” She pointed at Grian’s mask.

“Oh, yeah that bird was probably me. It was very much on accident though as you can see that is not happening this time.”

Crumb stared at him, half surprised, half skeptical, but mostly confused. “Are you a shape shifter like me den?”

Grian chuckled. “Nope, just an avian. Okay maybe not just. I was born an avian and then made into a Watcher, and to show off power they get wicked cool forms that sort of reflect who they are. Since a good number of Watchers are human based in origin, they basically turn into what people think of as angels. That’s… actually probably where those came from.” Grian shrugged. “Eh, who knows, it was who knows how long ago. Let’s just go find your friends.”

When Grian walked into the building Tommy was hiding out in, he got stabbed. He knew that it made sense, but he couldn’t help but look down at the sword. “Ugh, not again.”

His voice seemed to help the others figure out who he was. “Grian?”

“Hi Tommy! Sorry if I scared you. It’s just I kinda need to wear this mask or else I’ll feel sick and drunk at the same time or something.”

“Tommy an’ Tubbox!” Crumb jumped at the pair when she saw them, shifting to a hybrid form midair and then hugging them.

“Crumb!” Tubbo hugged her first. “Are you doing okay?”

“Ye ye ye!”

“Everything should be okay here soon guys. I’ve got some friends who are definitely going to take care of Dream for you guys once and for all. At the same time, I talked and we’re really going to make a permanent connection between here and Hermitcraft so you can visit all the time. Admin duties will be shared between the servers, but X said he won’t step on any toes, it’s just as a precaution.”

Tommy crossed his arms. “And what are you doing about your boyfriend?”

Grian hesitated at the lack of Tommy using Mumbo’s name. “You mean Mumbo? I mean, he’s a disgusting mess after barely sleeping and eating taking care of me, but I’m sure he’ll get better. Unless you’re concerned about how he was after being here, because again, bit of a mess but he’ll be fine.”

“Not going to get upset at me coming back?”

That really made Grian pause. What was Tommy talking about? “What do you mean Tommy?”

Tommy didn’t respond, just getting so angry he could barely say anything, so Tubbo answered for him. “Just before Mumbo left with you, he yelled at Tommy. He sort of said he wished Tommy never showed up in your world.”

Grian frowned. “Well, you’re fine to come back. I’ll make sure he has a stern talking to. Come on, let’s go back to the portal.” Grian then looked over where Techno and Philza were playing a game of… well Grian wasn’t sure, but it looked like some kind of board game. “You can come too if you want.”

Philza shook his head. “No. Whatever Dream did turned Wilbur back into a ghost, so someone showed up and took him away to fix that. We’re going to wait here until he’s back to normal.”

“Oh, alright then. Well, don’t be a stranger or anything. C’mon kids!”

“Hey! I’m not a kid!” Tommy complained, just making Grian ruffle his hair.

“Were it not for the laws of this land, that being you’re literally my brother, I might have adopted you. Also if we maybe had a few more years between us.”

Grian dropped off the trio at Tommy’s tower before flying to Mumbo’s base. He set his mask down on a table and then walked to where Mumbo’s bedroom was, surprised to hear the shower still running as he passed the bathroom. Grian paused and knocked on the door. “Mumbo, when you’re done in there, we need to have a chat. I’ll be waiting by the counter.”

Grian sat down on the ledge in front of the life counter of Mumbo’s base after feeding it an apple. He stared out at the jungle, waiting for Mumbo to arrive. He finally heard the redstone walk up behind him and then started to address him. “Mumbo, look. Tommy told me you-” He turned to look at Mumbo who was dripping wet. It was like someone pushed him into a pool while he was wearing his suit. “Mumbo why are you all wet?”

“You said to take a shower.” Mumbo said like how he currently looked was the most normal thing in the world.

“I didn’t mean in your clothes! Oh my god, go get changed!”

“I thought you wanted to talk?”

“We can do that after you’re dry!”

Mumbo was quiet before speaking again. “You know I don’t really have another suit.”

“You have your bamboo one!”

Again, he was quiet for a worryingly long time before he just sat down next to Grian. “Can we just talk and get this over with?”

Grian was reluctant and nodded. “Tommy said you yelled at him.”

“I know… I was upset. A lot of things had just happened and with everyone with amnesia, I was really the only one who was able to do much. And Dream had messed with you so I was angry. I barely got to sleep, and we had just had a war with that guy and we were all over the place and I just sort of… lost it.” Mumbo started to lean on Grian’s shoulder, but quickly stopped himself. “Through all this, you’ve been focused a lot on Tommy and your family, and everything else, but you weren’t really…”

“Oh Mumbo. Why didn’t you say anything?” Grian realized what Mumbo meant.

“Well, I sort of knew Tommy was sort of the priority. Plus you had a lot on your plate. I didn’t want to put more on there.”

Grian nuzzled against Mumbo’s chest, not noticing how he stiffened up. “Mumbo, I’m not going to stop loving you. I’m just going to have love for my family too. You know how we hermits need to be there for each other, and Tommy is a hermit too.”

“Yeah…”

When their comms buzzed, Mumbo gave a small sigh as Grian sat up to look at the message. He saw there were actually a few he had missed and laughed a little at them. “Looks like Crumb’s dad is looking for her but he was told he’s at my mansion. I’m going to fly over there and take him to Tommy’s tower since that’s where I left them. If you want we can talk more later.”

“Go deal with them first. And can you tell Tommy what I said?”

Grian nodded and then flew off to his mansion. He quickly arrived since it wasn’t too far even on foot. “Hellooo? Crumb’s dad? You in here?” He called out before spotting an unfamiliar man. “Oh, hey there. Sorry that Crumb’s not here. She’s actually at Tommy’s tower. I can take you there if you want.” Grian stood there as the man in front of him stayed quiet with his back turned to the avian. “Uh, hello?” He then put a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Sparklez jumped slightly, shocked out of his train of thought before he whirled around and saw Grian.

“Hi! Sorry if I scared you. Crumb’s not here, but I can take you to her.”

“Is… Do you live here?”

Grian nodded. He must not have seen many of the other bases. “Yup! Built the mansion myself. Why?”

Grian’s eyes widened as the man held up a lost child poster. “Where did you get this?”

“Uh, that’s from my old world. The kid’s not mine though. Just sort of-”

Grian was cut off by Sparklez. “I know he’s not your kid. He’s mine!”

“Oh my god you’re the captain.”

“Yeah, I am. People don’t normally call me that.”

Grian just grabbed Jordan’s arm. “No, argh! I mean… Tubbo’s here! Your kid is here! They’re with Crumb and Tommy right now.”

“You mean… that kid… with the green shirt, red bandana. That’s him? The whole time that was him?”

“Oh great, looks like you’ve seen him already. That should make things less awkward. Even more of a reason to go over to the tower. Let’s go!” Grian grabbed Sparklez and pulled him over to an ender chest to hand him some spare elytra and rockets. After he had put the wings on, they both got into the air and then flew to the tower.

When they landed, Grian had to hold Jordan back because he looked like he was about to tear the tower apart. “Hey Tommy!” Grian shouted up to the tower. “Are you guys still there?” When the blond called back in affirmation, Grian shouted again. “Can you three come down here? It’s important!”

“Give me a second! I need to grab some more elytra. Hey can you remind me to change the floor 2 elevator to a down tomorrow?”

“We’ll see. Might be busy for us then.”

In a few moments, Tommy was gliding down with Tubbo, Crumb in Tommy’s arms. Crumb was the first to see Sparklez and frowned. “Aw myan… do I have to leave?”

Her dad didn’t answer as he half stumbled towards them and then held Tubbo in a bone crushing hug.

“Ah! What’s going on?” Tubbo, having no context was confused.

Sheepishly, Grian gave the answer. “So remember how you said you went missing when you were little and couldn’t find your dad? I found a missing person’s poster? Well, Crumb’s dad is the one who made that poster… making him your dad too.”

Everything was silent as everyone comprehended the news, Sparklez just holding Tubbo close and not wanting to let go, but finally Tubbo half screamed from being so surprised. “He’s whAT?!”

Mumbo sat in his room, still dripping wet. He knew he could just go sit in front of some lava or stand in the nether for a while if he felt daring, but instead he was just sitting in his room leaving a puddle behind. He wasn’t sure why he set up an ice mirror, but there it was, waiting for him to take his shirt off.

He just stared at himself, trying to will himself to move, but it just wasn’t working. So he tried talking to his mirror self. “Alright Mumbo. Stop acting like a spoon and just look. It’s going to be there. He was lying and Grian seemed fine when he left. They’re supposed to stay forever. A few years won’t do anything to it.”

Still, Mumbo didn’t move, he just kept staring. “Fine, if that’s how we’re going to do it, I’ll just go ahead!” He closed his eyes and took his tie and jacket off. His hands trembled as he got to the buttons of his dress shirt, but then he steeled himself and undid two of them, pulling his left arm out of the sleeve. There was no hiding it now. He would open his eyes and right there, on the skin just under his clavicle, Mumbo would see it.

The redstoner took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking into the mirror. He was staring at his face and now where he should, but it was hard to look away. No, he told himself. He had to look and put this all past him. He shifted his gaze and his heart dropped. It was gone, like it had never been there at all.

[waywardsons-imagines]

I’m Not Okay

Author - Admin Aingeal

Characters - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N

Pairing - None

Summary/Request - When Y/N runs off on yet another suicide mission, the brothers find her having taken down an entire nest of vampires. They are determined to figure out what has been driving her, before it’s too late.

Word Count - 1,960

Warnings - Angst, Descriptions of Depression, Mentions of Blood (from killing vampires) (If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - Based on the song “I’m Not Okay” by Citizen Soldier

Story -

The rain was pouring. With everything I had been dealing with inside, it was as if the sky decided to cry with me and just let it all out at once.

I stood there in the parking lot with my arms out as if I was trying to catch the water with my bare hands.

Machete in one hand - blood dripping onto the pavement from my fingers & the large blade, more still running down my shirt and finding its way to the ground around me, mixing with the water to form unique artwork around me.

Tonight - the monsters that inhabit my brain are screaming so damn loud. I can’t ignore them any longer. The walls I built up so that I would never have to hear their voices couldn’t go any higher.

I hear the rumble of an engine in the distance. They are approaching quickly, sure, but will they make it in time?

The person that they see, day in and day out, is nothing more than a mask. A facade. A blatant lie.

But it’s also the only way to cope that I’ve ever known.

Being the real me - broken, scared, desperate for something I can never obtain - has only ever resulted in being more and more alone in this world.

I hear the purr of the engine a short distance behind me - the doors slamming shut in their hurry, and their booming voices carrying through over the din of the downpour.

“Y/N! What the hell were you thinking?!”

Their footsteps cause distinct splashes as they make their way to where I stand. I find the sound amusing for as morbid a moment this has become.

“Dean, chill,” Sam interjected, seemingly noticing my exasperation of their presence. “She’s fine; that’s the important thing.”

I am far more thankful for the water falling from the sky than I ever have been before. It is hiding the falling tears and making it that much easier to replace the mask I need for the interaction ahead.

“Sorry guys,” I keep my tone stoic and passively positive as always as I turn to face them. “I got a lead, and I took my chance before they could move again.”

“Sorry?” Dean bit out. “All you can say is ‘sorry guys’? We were worried sick, Y/N!” His voice was rough as always.

“Dean!”

“No, Sam! Not this time!” His hand was out, waving to dismiss his brother. “What the fuck is going on with you, Y/N!? Sneaking off, not telling a damn one of us where the hell you’re going off to. Taking on demons, werewolves, even a fucking wendigo - ALONE.”

I felt unattached from my body. As if watching overhead at the scene playing out below me. With a stoic blink, I heard myself respond, “I don’t see what the big deal is. I came out of each one alive and well.”

I sidestep the brothers and start the sadly short journey to my car on the other side of the vast open lot.

“Look, Y/N,” Sam said softly. I could just hear the resignation. “We’re just worried. Taking on those creatures is dangerous; let alone doing it without backup. And now you’re here taking out an entire nest of vampires?”

He tried to stay strong - not the ever tough soldier his brother was, but the solid rock we all came to expect. I could hear his voice break, though, despite his best efforts.

I turn back and lock eyes with each of them again, all while still taking steps back toward the vehicles. I could feel how dead my stare was; I could feel how painfully emotionless my face rested.

‘I’m not okay - can’t you see that?’ I want to shout at them.

I have so much to say, but no one to hear it.

Despite how much is at stake, keeping quiet not burdening the brothers - or their angel - with the battle inside myself.

I feel the emotions clash - the want and the need to tell them everything, right here and right now - the futility of it, seeping in and convincing me they don’t care.

So, I let the monsters win, silencing me once again. Lying to myself, they’d never understand why it’s so hard to say that I’m not okay.

“I’m fine, Sam. Really.”

“Then what is your excuse?” Dean cut in. “What is your reason for going out on these suicide missions? I mean, come on Y/N, let’s face it - you’re either hell-bent on destruction, or you’re just being stupid. And we both know you are smarter than Sam and I put together. So what’s the deal? What’s next? Trying to take on HellHounds?!”

I blinked heavily.

I wish I had an answer. I wish I had a scar, a bruise, something to show the proof of the battles I face, day in and day out. Something to show for the invisible abuse - faced with the choice to either be judged or hideaway in secret as I inevitably choose to do.

I let out a soft but long sigh. “I have no answer for you. Not one you’d accept anyway.”

Words may be my only option. The only visible symptom to show for the battle that wages is the sheer desire to end the torment that is my life.

I look at the two of them for a moment before finally breaking away to turn back - back to my car, back to my escape, back to a place where they can’t see the battle playing out in my mind. I can only hide so much. The tears were beginning to fall once again.

I hear the steps approaching. Their long strides make it easy work to catch up to where I am. Feeling a hand grip my upper arm and spin me around quickly - my face must have physically shown how distraught and angry I am. Unable to hide my emotions as I usually would - my gaze clashed with the glaring green eyes of Dean’s boring into me.

The reason I say my face must’ve revealed more than I wanted is because, after a long but instant moment, I saw his face drop.

In all the years we’ve been fighting together, he has never seen this side of me, and for a good reason.

“Y/N? Wh-” he releases his grip on my arm, running his hand down his face, contemplating. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, Dean,” I say, schooling my features. “Forget it.” Quickly I ground myself, now trying to turn my features to stone - removing any trace of the ever hidden emotions that were trying to pour out.

“Bullshit.” His voice stopped me dead in my tracks. “Talk to me,” he said and shared a silent look to his brother, almost as if to confirm he didn’t imagine things, “Talk to us.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Sam joined. “You know you don’t have to hide things from us.”

“I’m fine. Just -”

“No. You’re not, okay,” Sam interjected, joining Dean in speaking firmly. “Something is wrong; tell us.” Sam was quiet for a moment before adding, “Please.”

I felt guilty as I noticed his voice break.

Staring at the brothers, I felt a mixture of emotions — contempt, love, bitterness, relief.

“Fine,” I bit out.

Perhaps knowing it was a losing battle, I caved for the first time in my life. “I’m not okay. You’re right. But I don’t have the words to explain the hell that goes on within my mind on a daily basis.”

“Try.” Dean retorted instantly, seamlessly - I hadn’t even finished speaking. I knew he was trying to offer comfort, in his ‘unattached,’ ‘too cool for attachment’ way.

“Humor us,” he added after a beat of me not responding.

I looked at him with a pinched look, shaking my head. I could feel every emotion ripping through me like a storm.

“I am in a constant state of being numb, Dean,” I finally said. “Numb to emotions, numb to life itself. Most people survive because they can see that light at the end of the tunnel - but for me?” I shake my head. “There is no light. It’s all just a dark cage without a key, just suffocating darkness and weight, with demons screaming at me. I don’t control my thoughts anymore; they control me.”

Sam shook his head now. “Y/N, why didn’t you say something? We can help you get through whatever this is.” Sam tried taking my hand, trying to offer some sort of comfort.

“It’s not a phase, Sam.” I pull my hand free abruptly, ignoring the pain in my chest from seeing Sam’s hurt expression. “It’s who I am, all I ever have been. I’m never going to be safe, always inching closer to that final breaking point.”

Dean seemed exasperated. “That’s fine,” he said. “If you break, that’s okay. Just don’t hide, and don’t go running off.”

Dean wrapped his arms around me with a strength I couldn’t gently pull away from, pulling me in close but still speaking loud enough that Sam could hear, “We’ll help you pick up the pieces. We’re a family, like it or not, punk. As a member of this family, you’re not allowed to quit.”

My brow furrowed the moment he called me family.

Dean, holding me at arm's length, graced me with a small, awkward smile. “Look, this may be a battle you feel you have to face solo, and so be it,” he motioned with one of his hands as if dismissing the thought, “but don’t quit on us. Sam and I, we’re here, always. Even if you just need to sit in silence with someone, so you aren’t alone. We get it; we’ve all been through a lot.”

I couldn’t stop staring at him, conflicted and upset - his grip on my arms felt heavy. Itchy and uncomfortable, as the only place I wanted to be right now was in my car. The rain had long since stopped or lightened - I couldn’t tell - but I just wanted to start the engine — bake in the heater. Drive.

After a long awkward beat of silence, Dean rolled his eyes lightly in slight awkward annoyance. “This is the part where you say: ‘back atcha! We’re a team!’ Y/N.”

I took light offense to how he mocked my voice, but it didn’t matter.

With a light, honestly fake feeling laugh, I removed his arms from mine.

“You don’t entirely get it, Dean.”

Dean scoffed lightly. “What, are you saying we don’t have hard times too? I can guarantee we—“

In an outburst I couldn’t control, I snapped. “Stop! Okay?? I’m not dismissing that you two have had a shitty life! I’m saying you don’t hear what goes on in my head, Dean.”

Sam, raising a placating hand, tried to calm me. “Please, Y/N, we may not understand what exactly is going on, but we understand your reactions to it.”

I just stood still, breathing hard - trying so hard not to cry.

Sam took this as a sign to continue. “Y/N, we care for you. And honestly, we don’t think anyone should be alone with thoughts like that.”

I felt my face melt like paper catching on fire - every emotion displayed as I felt my chin tense, and my lips quiver as I burst into tears.

The brothers’ embrace was welcome, however wet.

The emotions were not as welcome, but it was unstoppable.

Dean was closest to my ear as I sobbed, and I heard him softly say, “You’re not okay, but you will be. We’re with you every step of the way.”

A part of me hated him saying that, but I couldn’t ignore the relief I felt.

Maybe I would be okay.

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍

Here is a cute Gaara x pregnant!reader~ we all need a little dad gaara in our lives. This is pre-boruto, so unfortunately, no shinki, even though he is the cutest and bestest boy~

Requests are open! 

>Admin 𝕋

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(y/n) didn’t know what to say, or even attempt to think of what is to come. She didn’t think this would be in her future, whatsoever. The thumping of her heart deafened her hearing, and she didn’t notice the doctor began to speak. “Miss, (y/n)? Are you listening to me?” she blinked rapidly and cleared her throat, trying to swallow the lump that was lodged there.

“Ah, yes, could you maybe repeat that?” (y/n) said in a small voice. The doctor gave her a disgruntled look then proceeded to repeat what he said before.

“You are eight weeks pregnant.” he reiterated, adjusting his glasses. (y/n) could feel her heart go down into her stomach. 

“A-are you sure? I thought I was just sick--but pregnant?” she asked. She didn’t know what to feel at this moment. Happy? Sad? Stressed? All of the above?

“I am fairly certain, the results don’t lie.” he waved a few papers around, pointing to some numbers from her checkup.

Nodding and slowly getting up from the chair she was in, (y/n) bowed, “Thank you for the information. If there isn’t anything more, I’ll be on my way.” she didn’t wait to see if the doctor had anything more to talk about.

Her mind was reeling, still trying to process what she was told, and she walked through the streets of the Hidden Sand Village back to her home. The home that she shared with her lover and the Kazekage, and the home that might have a third addition.  A baby? But how? Well, she knew how, but they had been so careful so this very thing didn’t happen. Her and Gaara were two very busy people to have a baby, and if she and Gaara were to have a baby, she didn’t want to neglect it because of that.

She knew of Gaara’s past, and her own wasn’t the best either, so she didn’t want their child to have the same fate in any way. But, first things first, how was she going to tell Gaara?

Not being able to come up with anything herself, (y/n) decided to go to one person that may have a clue.

Walking up the step of the Kazekage building and into a side office that was adjacent to the Kazekage’s office, (y/n) noticed that Gaara wasn’t in and was mostly likely out doing Kazekage things. Sighing in relief she opened the door to the side office, seeing Temari writing on some documents and knocked on the door to get her attention.

Temari looked up from her paperwork and beamed at (y/n) as she walked in. “(y/n)! What a surprise, I didn’t think I’d see you in the office today.” she said, getting up and giving (y/n) an affectionate hug. The (h/c) girl hugged back tightly.

“There was something I actually wanted to talk to you about.” she told Temari, sitting down in one of the few empty chairs. Temari heard the worry in her sister-in-law’s voice and was immediately concerned. She sat down in front of (y/n) and took her hand. “Temari...I’m--I’m pregnant.” she proclaimed and Temari’s eyes went wide in shock.

“You’re pregnant?”

“U-huh.”

“Really?”

“Just got the results today.” she told her. Temari was silent for a few minutes, letting the fact that she’ll be an aunt sink in.

“Oh, wow, I can’t believe this. Have you told Gaara yet?” she asked (y/n) and she shook her head.

“Not yet, that’s why I came to you. Temari, I’m going to be completely honest with you, I’m scared. I’m scared of what Gaara will say, and I’m scared of having a baby. I mean I don’t even know if I want to have a baby, I don’t know if I’m worthy.” she rambled on, her breathing starting to become erratic and uneven.

“Woah woah, (y/n), calm down. Breath,” Temari said, motioning slow breathing methods, “and you don’t need to think so hard. No one is forcing you to have the baby, and if you don’t want it, that’s okay, that’s your choice. And if you are worried about Gaara, I’ll tell you right now that he will be okay with any decision you make.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am absolutely sure, because I know for a fact that Gaara loves you. If you don’t want to have the baby, he’ll love you and if you do want the baby, he’ll love you.” Temari stated, smiling. (y/n) stared at her for a moment and smiled back at her.

“Thank you, Temari, I really needed that.”

“What are sisters for.” she said. They hear the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway outside the office. Temari looks toward the noise then glances but to her sister-in-law. “It seems like Gaara is back from his patrol. Do you think you can talk to him now?” she asked.

(y/n) nods, now determined because of her talk with Temari. She stands up from her chair and pats down her dress, beginning to walk to the main office. “I think I’ll be alright.”

The door creaks open and she sees Gaara turn around from looking out the window, his face contorting into a loving, gentle smile. “(y/n).” he says in the most adoring way, causing her to blush lightly. They’ve been together for a long while, but he still somehow manages to make her blush.

Closing the door behind, she came up to Gaara and hugged him tight, her head resting on his chest. He instantly wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong? You seem tense.” he questioned, and she wasn’t surprised that Gaara would notice her current mood.

“I have to tell you something, Gaara.”

“What is it?” she tightened her hold on him, nervous. She mumbled out something into his chest, but he couldn’t decipher what she uttered. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t understand what you said.”

“I said, there’s a baby inside me.”

Gaara’s widened fractionally and he pulls her off him to see her face. There was no detection of a lie. “Are you serious?” he muttered out. She nodded, not looking him in the eyes, her expression off. “Do you not want the baby?” she wasn’t expecting him to say that, and didn’t know what to say. 

“I-it’s not that I don’t want it, I just don’t know if I am ready.” she responded, looking down at their feet. Gaara gently took her chin and made her look up to gaze into her eyes.

“It’s okay, (y/n). It’s okay if you aren’t ready. I’ll support you in whatever you decide.” Gaara whispered, not wanting to scare her. He saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears and brought her back into his embrace. They stay like that for a while, and Gaara let her cry her heart out into his chest.

When she was done, she pushed away from Gaara and inhaled deeply. “I want to keep it.” she said confidently. 

Gaara stroked her cheek gently and asked her softly, “Are you sure that’s what you want?” and she smiled up at him.

“I want to raise a child with you, Gaara. I want us to experience that together. And I know you’ll be a magnificent father.” Gaara felt like his heart would explode from how his love looked right now. He drew closer to her face and rested his forehead against hers lovingly.

“I’m so happy.” he whispered to her. She giggled and gently kissed him on the lips, soft and light.

“I am too.”

⭒❃.✮:▹　　◃:✮.❃⭒

[m-y-fandoms]

Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Ultimate Monster Hunter reader - Part 2 (Supernatural AU)

Part 1 

WARNINGS: Blood Drinking, Vampire Bites

Please excuse any grammar mistakes. I think I got most but I edited this at 5 A.M. ... I will go back over it and scan for errors soon.

- Admin Kokichi

     Hours passed since your unfortunate encounter, and your heart and mind had finally shaken off the creeps. After finishing your little self-guided tour of campus, you headed to the Main Course dorms to find your room. Your luggage was arranged to come later that evening, but you wanted to see the dorms for yourself now with little else to do. 

      Once you shut the door, the warmth of the sunlight gave way to a wave of the best air conditioning money could buy. The place looked very clean and tidy, with nothing out of place save for a few displaced balls and plastic cups atop a pool table and what appeared to be forgotten lecture notes on a shelf above a central fireplace. This must be the common area, a lounge for the most deserving students in the world!

     Behind the fireplace on either side were two sets of pretentious-looking stairs that led up to what you assumed were the actual dorm rooms. You searched your pocket for your student key card. You flipped it around over and over again in your hand, searching.

     “What?” You weren’t going crazy, were you? Neither floor nor room number were indicated on your card. You pulled your phone out, quickly sifting through emails and texts. Nope. Nowhere, at any point, had the housing department told you exactly what room was yours. Way to drop the ball, Kirigiri… you sighed, finding this situation both a bit humorous and exasperating considering the status of the school.

     Well, you were a last minute transfer. There were bound to be slip-ups.

     Sighing, you resigned to sit, relax for a few minutes, then call the housing department, or simply walk over to the main office building if it was still open.

      "Maybe I'll just..." you decided you'd earned the two minute break and walked leisurely over to one of the beige leather seats. Sitting, you set your chin into your hand propped up by your elbow on the arm of the chair, and began to think of how much you missed your tools. School regulations didn’t allow poisons, crossbows, guns and silver bullets inside the dorms... for obvious reasons. Even students of the blade or other offensive disciplines had to keep all sharp and lethal objects in their practice rooms and out of the dorms (not that all of them followed these rules). Students were allowed to customize and adjust their uniforms according to their talent, but you couldn’t even do that, what with all of the tools of your trade being lethal or unexplainable to the ignorant masses.

     It felt weird, not having a wooden stake strapped to your ankle, not having wolfsbane hidden away in a compartment on your belt. You felt out of place, without knives and rune-inlaid whips hidden on your person... uncomfortable. This school really wasn’t for you.

     "Ah, it’s you!" A voice came from behind.

     "Huh?" You gasped, flying up from your seat, thoroughly startled. Your knee banged off of the coffee table in front of it, leaving you feeling like an absolute buffoon. Your hand instantly flew to your leg, and you hissed softly in pain.

     “Whoops! Didn’t mean to startle you, sorry!”

     Your eyes followed the voice all the way up the stairs to its owner. Nagito was scrambling down the stairs toward you apologetically, feeling responsible for your blunder. He reached his hands out as of to offer you his aid, but froze upon seeing you take a step backward. He stopped directly in front of you, clearing his throat before continuing.

     “What are you doing here? You don’t have to start classes yet?” You stared into his eyes, and a tremble ran up your spine. The greenish-grey, glistening spheres appeared icy and far away. “Well?" When you didn't respond, he spoke up again.

     "I uh... um..."

     "You have a way with words, I see, just like when we met earlier today." He teased, laughing warmly. He had one of those genuine smiles, where the eyes exude friendliness just as much as the mouth, and their misty shine entranced you deeply. He laughed again, a bit awkwardly as you merely gawked at him. A light blush formed on his cheeks and he swept some of his cloud-like hair away from his forehead. He held the eye contact, though, searching your mind for something, anything to tell him more about you. You felt a stinging begin, like a migraine forming in the depths of your brain.

      You shook your head roughly, tearing your eyes away from his gaze. How could you have fallen for that one? 

     Vampires could very easily compel the mortal mind, put one in a mind-hazing trance with direct eye contact alone. Being the offspring of one of the best hunters ever born, you were trained to notice when the bloodsuckers made their attempts to ensnare your mind or read it like a book. That headache was your warning sign, the last defense of a disciplined mind, but it shouldn’t have even of gotten that far. 

     You were slipping… why did this vampire feel… different?

     More importantly, you forced your mind to change the subject, how long had he been trancing other students? Was he doing this on purpose? Some vampires simply forgot their own strengths at times. Did Kirigiri know? Is this dangerous creature simply going around unchecked... doing whatever the hell he likes?!

     He coughed, his eyebrows furrowing with a sudden seriousness. He’d been searching your mind, looking around desperately for a clue, a story, a hint, and just as soon as he thought he’d found an interesting page to start reading, the book was snapped close in front of him. He was pushed out in an effort that seemed practiced, skillful. You saw the discontent lining his features, and decided you needed you stop this. You two needed to be on the same page, before he tried anything else on you; something stupid, or more bold. You couldn’t keep up this charade any longer. You had a feeling he was feeling the same way.

     "Stop that.” You spoke sternly, concisely, confidently. He needed to know not to try that shit again, that you would not simply be prey like others, not mentally nor physically. His mouth formed a smirk, one of relief and something like acknowledging the other player in a game.

     “Ahh~ so I see that I was correct after all. Are we done playing pretend now? Awww, I was actually having a lot of fun! It was quite stimulating, actually.” He frowned, pouting like a child called home at dusk after playing outside all day.

     “I’m afraid so. Sorry to disappoint you,” you crossed your arms over your chest defiantly,” and I don’t appreciate my mind being picked and prodded at. That’s extremely disrespectful, you know? That’s none of your business. If you’re doing that to people on the regular around campus, I will inform the headmaster.” You held a finger out, poking his chest firmly and with aplomb, and he only smiled in response, finding this attempt to intimidate him rather adorable. He held in a giggle behind his hand, not wanting to anger you. “Am I amusing to you?” You threw him a cross look, and he held his hands up in surrender.

     “No, of course not! I was just thinking, well... how do you know? About me, I mean?”

     You face went blank. You weren’t expecting this question, though you probably should have been. There was no possible way to answer this honestly. What were you supposed to say? The headmaster forbade you from telling anyone of your true talent. Disregarding that point, what would this vampire do to you once he found out you were one of those sworn to kill his kind? You didn’t have any means of defending yourself at present. You couldn’t outrun him, or fight back with raw strength. He couldn’t do anything right? He wouldn’t… if he were that brash, there’s no way Kirigiri would’ve let him enroll here in the first place. He has to be on excellent behavior to attend Hope’s Peak, right?

     You blinked once, twice. He was waiting for a response, staring patiently. You needed a response, and quickly.

     “W-what are you doing here?” Nice. Perfect.

     “Huh?” His head tilted, taken aback by the curveball you threw his way.

     “W-well you asked what I’m doing here, and you’re right, if I were starting classes today, I would be in one right now. We have the same core classes outside of the individualized training of our talent specialization. I saw the class rosters and schedules! I know you should be in class right now as well!” You were getting louder with every word, feeling very cornered and vulnerable at the moment. If you had just even one weapon on you… just one…

     “Well, uh…” now you had him. You smirked, feeling pretty clever at the moment. “I forgot my books... just my luck haha,” he countered, “So I came back to my room to get them!”

     “Then where are they?” And sure enough, he had nothing on him but the clothes on his back.

     “Hmm… well I came through the second floor entrance,” he gestured over his back “...and I was about to head to my room but I got uhhh… distracted I guess you could say. I really am hopeless.” There was that big, dumb, goofy grin again. Your mind took a second, but then it clicked.

     “...You smelled me…” you spoke slowly, cautiously.

      “Uh… I guess yeah. You could say that. Well that’s exactly what happened, really. I suppose I am glad we ended our little farce! Would’ve been hard to explain that one...” his index finger reached up, scratching at the side of his mouth pensively.

     “You really are a creep!”

     “Yeah, I’m the worst, I know...” Why was he smiling while saying this? “I’m sorry, again. Usually, it’s not like this. Of course I admire our talented peers and am drawn to them as they are pinnacles of hope and the building blocks of the future, but...” he pantomimed through the air grandly, “ I am very conditioned to the human scent. It doesn’t usually alert me nowadays. I dunno… guess the... tantalizing smell of a particularly interesting human was enough to… stir me.” He smirked almost tauntingly. Your eyes widened, but narrowed again immediately. You would not show him weakness. 

     “Stop that.” You scowled.

     “Apologies, (Y/N). Just speaking my mind. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just sort of a disgusting waste of space.” Your scowl melted into a sort of sympathetic frown despite yourself. Did he really mean that? Why would he say that about himself? Vampires were usually more vain on the spectrum of supernatural beings. “I just hold Main Course students in really high esteem, and you’re no exception... actually, far from it. Ever since I met you this morning, you’ve been on my mind more then most mortals… strange...” he seemed lost in his own little world. What? What the hell was going on in his crazy little head? The silence caught his attention, and he seemed to remember you were there as well, looking into your eyes again. He caught himself, making sure to not to make such direct eye contact with you. When he was in these weird moods, he never could quite control his more passive abilities and instincts. “Anyway... yeah, it’s unfortunate that I’m going to be missing part of class now… not that I don’t enjoy the pleasant surprise! I knew there was something special about you right off the bat!" Would he still think that after he knew your true calling? You looked to your right, thankful for the large staircase to escape to. He was giving you unsettling vibes once again. 

     Supernatural beings were known to imprint easily on mortals. Some saw them as beautiful, perplexing, ethereal in their impermanence. Some killed and ate them just because devouring humans, or torturing them until the panicked aura of their tiny, weak souls radiated around the room and feeling that temporary fragility, that adrenaline, was the only way they themselves could feel human. This urge to feel close to humanity was only doubled, dangerously so, in supernaturals who were once human themselves. It was an insatiable need to return to that normalcy, that frailty. 

     Swiftly, you scampered over to the bottom step to put some distance between you and the increasingly imposing immortal before you.

     "Ah, I see. Well, anyway, thanks I suppose. I uh..." you grinned clumsily. “I was just looking for my room, albeit unsuccessfully. You can go ahead and get your books now! I don’t want to hold you up any longer!”

      "I can help! It’s no big deal. The way they get students moved in here can sometimes be confusing. Actually, they put your room number on the student portal, not your card or paperwork, heh! And they don’t even tell you, leave you to find out yourself!” He pulled a large, black rectangle from his pocket, crossing the distance to wave it in front of you like a treat.

     What the...? You patted down your shirt and bottoms alike.

     “Is that my phone? How the hell-?!”

     “Ah, yeah, sorry about that! I swiped it from you when I first came downstairs! I thought it’d help me get to know you better, had you not been willing to divulge the knowledge you have of my kind’s existence.” Once again he was calm, cool and casual whilst in the midst of saying such unusual words. What was this guy’s deal? “Here, you can have it back!”

     “Yeah, I should hope so!” You reached out to snatch your phone from his hand, and it was like time froze.

     The moment your fingertips touched his own in the exchange, your indignant eyes met his, and saw something feral flicker in them. The phone switched hands, and a spark of sorts traveled through your skin and into his. As you pulled back, his hand shot out, taking a tight grip around your wrist.

     Your cheeks warmed up, at once flustered when the atmosphere changed drastically. Your eyes dilated in panic and his lips moved forward, resting upon your hand. He seemed to tense up, a rigidness taking up his entire body. His closed eyes opened wide to match your own and he inhaled deeply of the skin of your knuckles. You pulled away quickly, spooked.

     "S-something wrong? Why are you so weird? I’ve never met any of your kind quite like you." You rubbed your hand curiously.

     “So, you’ve met others?” It was clear he was trying to hold back something deep inside of him that begged to crawl out, his eye twitching slightly.

     “Answer my question.”

     "No, of course not... you just smell... nice, as I said before." He looked away from you, hand extending to guide you upstairs and in the right direction, but your brain was telling you not to go anywhere with him in tow.

     “I- I can find my way myself, but thanks!” You began logging into the Hope’s Peak student portal through your phone’s browser, and quickly looking through your profile to find your room code and number.

     “I insist!” He followed you up the stairs, trailing after your scent like a starved hound. Why couldn't he just get lost? Your thoughts raced anxiously. If you’d had your equipment on you, he would’ve been long dead. He was exhausting, and he didn't feel… safe. “Found it?” he inquired over your shoulder. As you reached the top of the steps, you began to feel your blood boil, but you knew not the true cause of this involuntary reaction.

     Your last little exchange left you feeling foolish and naive. How could you have let a vampire get that close? Why would you let him indulge in the scent of you knowing how easy it was for them to take advantage of humans? You were royally pissed off, and looking for a way to expel that rage, to hurt someone or something the way you were hurting inside.

     “I know you’re a vampire because I kill them. My whole family does. It’s essential to be able to identify one in my line of work. I’d be a pretty shitty hunter if I couldn’t do even that, and you aren’t exactly good at hiding it.” You found your door, swiping your keycard into the extremely sleek, high-tech lock system, and forcing it open a bit too harshly. The frustration you tried to hide in your voice was evident in your actions. Nagito halted, stilled stiff by your suddenly bitter words.

     “Ah,” he cleared his throat, also hiding emotions of his own, “The Ultimate Hunter... it makes sense now.” He recalled seeing your title along with your name on his own school portal. How did he miss that one?

     “Yeah, so maybe you should get lost.” Heartlessly, you began to close the door on him, now fully inside the spacey room that was bare save for a luxurious bed and some basic, modern furniture. “Hn?” A soft gasp left your throat when a polished shoe wedged itself inside the door, stopping you. You looked up, your body filling the crack in the door, and met Nagito’s eyes. There was that far away look again. His eyes were cloudy, tameless, wild.

     “Why must you be so harsh?” His eyes bore into your own now, all inflection and kindness gone from his tone. “I understand you must hate my kind, and now I can appreciate why you reacted so aversely to my voice, my touch, my presence before, but have I done anything to harm you?” You were beginning to get scared now, reaching instinctively for your belt and finding it absent from your pristine uniform.

     “I think you should leave. We obviously aren’t meant to be acquaintances.” You refused to let your voice shake. This might be a turning point, a critical moment. Vampires were never so dangerous as when they knew their prey was afraid.

     “It’s your turn to answer me, now~” Nagito forced himself in the doorway nonchalantly, approaching your slowly retreating form into the middle of your room. You backed away, with him meeting every step.

     “If you must know, you have offended me, yes. Trying to read my mind-”

     “An accident.”

     “Stealing my phone-”

     “A precaution.”

     “Smelling my blood like a pervert, twice!” He smirked.

     “A natural, harmless instinct.” 

     “Even so...” Your eyes were on his own, obviously not focused on his body, and he took this opportunity to reach down, grasping lightly at your hand once again.

     “Even so, what? Those are all petty misunderstandings. Ahhh~” his cold, pointed nose skimmed across the back of your hand once again as he brought it to his face. This time, when you tried to pull away, he held fast, and warning signals flashed in your mind. “Just as I thought! Your scent appeals to me so because you are a shining beacon of hope! I see it now! It’s all coming to me! You protect the world from those of my kind who would seek to destroy it! How wonderful!” His cheek bumped across your knuckles, and you failed once again to pull away.

     “N-Nagito. Stop. This is.... you must consider context. If we weren’t in school right now, if we were just on the street meeting like this-”

     “You wouldn’t do anything~ because I’m allied and protected~” He sung, his eyes twitching again, lids fluttering softly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. He was right. 

     You were trying to resist, but he was making it so damn hard. It shouldn’t be this hard. You found supernatural beings repulsive. Your father did as well. And his father did! They weren’t trustworthy. Their words were always the lies of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. They could charm and glamour weaker mortals with ease and enjoyed it! And you certainly were not a weaker mortal! You found joy in killing them... didn’t you?

     “What you’re doing now is-”

     “It’s strange, hah~ so strange~ I haven’t felt this inspired, this jittery about a mortal in such a long time... haha~ this excitement! I knew it! I knew you were special! You’re the true hope I’ve been looking for! The Ultimate of all Ultimates that will guide our classmates into their roles as the protectors and leaders that will inherit this earth!” He was manic now, inhaling deeply, raggedly onto your skin. One hand crushed your wrist into his own chest, the other held your hand so that it stayed splayed out flat for his access. There was something primal in his eyes. He was quickly becoming unstable. It was a perilous state so common to his kind, but yet it felt still so incredibly unique to Nagito himself, like it was not his immortality but his own character that caused this sudden shift in behavior.

     “Nagito! You sound like a lunatic! Let go, you’re hurting me!” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You were strong, usually able to ignore some measure of physical pain, but the way his fingers dug into your wrist coupled with the consternation you felt at the situation set your nerves aflame. Once again you reached instinctively for a weapon or poison you did not have.

     “Am I? I’m sorry. It’s just... I wonder...” You didn’t like where this was going at all. His chest shook with arousal , a bit of drool dripping from the fangs now on display in his mouth, which hung open in his state of reverie. “I wonder what this this hope tastes like... this pure, concentrated source of unbridled hope!” His voice shook, and you pushed at his chest with your free hand. He didn’t budge an inch. It was like he didn’t even notice your actions. “I know I’m unworthy, that a piece of trash like me doesn’t deserve to taste you... but I feel like now that I’m this close, haha~ I can’t stop myself! Truly, truly it’s a grand misfortune that a talentless, meaningless, soulless abomination like myself even dares to take part in such a feast! But...” He lowered his lips to your wrist.

     “Nagito, stop! You can’t do this!” You began to kick and struggle, to scratch and tear at his clothes, to claw at any exposed skin, leaving marks across his cheek and arms. “If you do this, you’ll lose your protection!” His top lip pulled back, something like a snarl emanating from his throat. Clearly that approach wouldn’t work. “You’ll be expelled!” You tried the next deterrent on your mind. Wow, you must’ve been the worst Super High-School Level Monster Hunter in history. Day 1: fooled into a vampire’s clutches. His inhumanely sharp canines grazed the skin of your wrist, feeling your pulse race beneath the surface. He was entranced; there was no stopping this now. A human, without weapons, without enchantments or defenses, without repellants, bombs, herbs, poisons, silver, or means of healing, was no match for a supernatural being. “Please! Please, you- don’t do this!” a last effort. Why did you even try? These savages never sympathized with begging and pleading. They were killers. You were an imbecile to let your guard down around Komaeda for even a second.

     His fangs sunk deeply into your skin, piercing a vein. You yelped out in pain, pulling at his hair and tugging your wrist back, which only nestled his fangs in deeper. You whimpered, little rivulets of your vital fluid running out of his mouth and down to your elbow. He was moaning in delirium, enraptured in the sensation of your blood running down his throat. You wanted to yell, to scream for help, but something inside you was hesitant and holding you back. Something inside you didn’t want anyone to find out about this, to find you two like this.

     “Mmmh~” Nagito’s tongue swirled around the puncture wounds, his lips latched on like a leech. He drank freely, deeply, seemingly careless of how much blood he was taking. It’d been a long time since he’d felt the exhilaration of feeding from true prey. These days they had him on willing donors and blood bags. Nothing compared to the flavor of adrenaline and fear in the bloodstream, no matter how much he hated himself for indulging in it.

     “Naaagi-t-” You stumbled backwards a step, wishing so desperately that you weren’t such an obedient student, that you’d deemed it justified to slip a stake, a knife, anything under your shirt. Your punches, your willful attacks on his abdomen, and the kicks to his knees began to slow down. They were losing the fight behind them, and yet, you would not give up. “St-tt-oo-” He continued to slurp and suck at your wrist, taking no note of the way you slowly were slipping to your knees. 

     The corners of your vision began to cloud and darken. Your head was ringing, much like a time you’d been left concussed after one of your first hunts. This might as well have been one of your first encounters with the supernatural world, with how badly you’d blundered every step.

     Now on your knees, your head hanging limply down into your chest with your arm raised and pulled taut, trailing up to the vampire’s mouth, you felt yourself slipping. Finally, your vision began to fade for the last time, and you fell unconscious. The last thing your mind registered was the sound of Nagito sighing blissfully as he finally detached from your flesh, followed by the sound of frenzied laughter.