#give us some time blindness at the very least
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shizdrone · 11 months ago
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gonna need to wait to see how she is in later steps (esp step 3) before i start pointing fingers and going "I know what you are." but even though tamarack is very different to me, the moment there's any confirmation of sensory needs i'm gonna start squinting
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the-busy-ghost · 9 months ago
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Idk why every time I have a project that involves using the Register of the Great Seal for something even slightly more complex than looking up a single isolated charter, I always have a lovely plan where I think it will only take me a couple of hours to go in, check the index, and take the numbers I need down. And then I end up having to skimread the whole damn volume.
#No I know why#It's because the index is fucked up that's why#All due respect to those Victorian and Edwardian lads who went to the tremendous trouble of compiling all these sources#But this particular method of indexing leaves a lot to be desired#Does NOT have everything I need in it#And by the time you realise that some lands might pop up where least expected you start to convince yourself it would be safer#Just to read the whole thing#It's 800 pages long#I have been at this since 4 and I'm not even an eighth of the way through#Would be much quicker if I had the physical volume but it's a very old rare book so the library have it under strict control#Fortunately of course it HAS been digitised which is fantastic#Lots of sources for mediaeval Scottish history that were compiled into printed editions in the nineteenth century have been digitised#They are very easy to get ahold of and in my biased opinion it is easier to do online primary source research for Scotland than England#But 800 pages staring at a screen (which is NOT a format I can easily retain information from even if it didn't make my eyes hurt)#Having to physically scroll down the page rather than just flip a page#Is just not ideal#And this is the only volume in the series which is on Hathi rather than Internet Archive and personally I find indexes more difficult to us#On Hathi than internet archive#Anyway#That's how you end up making the bad decision to work your way through an 800 page volume and make yourself go blind#Just to find some charters#But I've already sunk several hours into this so can't give up now! I always vastly underestimate the amount of time it takes too#Also a certain degree of Ill as well. Like I feel I have to Suffer For My Craft-suffering being back problems and 19th century antiquarians#Alright this is officially the most boring rant I have ever had
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here-there-were-dragons · 22 days ago
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additions from op's tags that seem worth keeping
Funniest thing I've seen recently, and not funny in a ha-ha way, more funny in a "the endless entropic void gnawing at my will to live" way, was somebody asking around for alternatives to Neil Gaiman, in the light of Neil Gaiman's ongoing fall from grace. As though what we're currently sitting through isn't the collapse of the carefully curated "Good Guy Neil" image that caused people to parade Gaiman as the same kind of preferred progressive alternative to, say, Rowling. As though we won't be in the same goddamn situation in a few years or months, with some number of the new progressive sci-fi/fantasy darlings- not all of them, to be clear, but at least some of them- when their impeccably-curated marketing implodes in on itself and they're revealed to be the same kind of sex pest or abuser. Can you not see the wheel to which you are strapped. The game of human pinball you are condemning yourself to with this mindset. Maybe you do see, and you're just resigned to taking it one soul-crushing disappointment at a time, one "I never would have guessed" after another. I mean I think we all need to get resigned to that one way or another, sun's gonna go out before it stops happening
#people really need to get used to the idea that humans just universally fundamentally suck and they're never going to find a creator#that isn't a Problem#no matter how good they are at marketing themselves as Unproblematic and One Of Tee Good Ones#assuming by default that everyone involved in making everything you love has unforgivable skeletons in their closet#is in fact the ONLY remotely viable way to engage with anything!#and not only that#it's basically 100% guaranteed to always be true!#and even if they somehow by black magic of some sort don't#in all likelihood they are still someone that would deeply dislike or not get along with you as a person#and would almost certainly have deep disagreements with some element of something you stand for#assume by default that all media-makers would at the very least most likely not want to give you the time of day#and would statistically most likely turn out to not be worth giving the time of day themselves#because frankly anything more than that is a one-way gate to parasociality in all of it's forms#and is setting yourself up for nearly inevitable disappointment#don't put people on pedestals. they'll always turn out to be just more of the same.#to be perfectly honest achieving the level of success that it takes to get in that position more or less *requires*-#having a personality type that lends itself to being the unshackled skeleton closet expose of the day#you can't GET to the top of any given pile without clawing through a mile of human blood to be there. you need to be the sort who's willing#even one so small as “popular content creator”#All Of Your Favorite Youtubers Hate You And All Of Them Are Probably Secretly Horrible In Some Way You Simply Are Not Yet Privy To.#because the fundamental of human nature is that in fact basically *everyone* is horrible in some personally unforgivable way#and the only reason it ever seems otherwise is because you just haven't found out what you can't forgive about everyone yet#and are probably hoping to god or whatever you do or don't worship that you never do.#the only thing to pray for harder is that you never realize what-if you were an objective observer-you would never forgive about yourself#because people a more or less built to be blind to and deeply in denial about their own misdeeds even by their own moral standards#that's what you get when you have an evolutionary process made of compounded errors optimized for whatever most ruthlessly seeks resources#getting a bit off subject but yeah#when you're talking about morality vs realistically what people are actually like it kind of innately drifts subject to something general#it's useless to try to seek the One Pure Man. there are no unproblematic people and there never will be. just people you find agreeable#a positive relationship with a creator of something is the exception not the rule and reading someone's work isn't knowing them personally
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trivia-yandere · 7 days ago
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the beast of busan
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you’re the only reporter who wasn't scared of documenting the valentine's day crimes of jeon jungkook - a notorious serial killer known as the beast of busan. @minshookie29 @whipwhoops @sweetempathprunetree @chimmy-licious @darkuni63 @bangtans-momma @investedreader @somehowukook @yunhoswrldddd @curse-of-art
word count: 18.607
warning: multiple character death, yandere/dark themes, obsessive behavior, blood, mentions of death, reader is somewhat exploitative, erotomania jk, narcissism, manipulative tactics/moments, dry humping, neck kissing, dub-con/non-con elements, dirty talking, nipple sucking, fingering, face/ass slapping, overall this is a yandere based account and this is a yandere fic so please read the warnings,
valentine's day masterlist
“On Valentine’s Day, Busan has endured one of the most heinous crimes imaginable on a day that is supposed to be about love. It was dubbed “The Valentine’s Day Murder’s” by some for how gruesome the crimes were of the couples slain that night. However,” there was a pause as your eyes flicker to Jungkook. His eyes meet yours and he smiles proudly. “the murders had not stopped on the Holiday and instead, there was a serial killer tormenting the people of Busan.”
Jungkook chuckles quietly and you feel disgusted. It’s as if you weren’t speaking about him - as if you and he weren’t in the same all white cafeteria in the prison he resided where he was deemed a psychopath for his lack of empathy. You are positive he was reveling in the fact that you were here - in the same sundress he told you to wear - and interviewing him.
It makes your skin crawl.
“For the following months, the serial killer continued tormenting the people of Busan, killing any and everyone who he deemed fit that caused a panic throughout the city. No one knew if they were next - me included.”
Jungkook tilts his head, lips pursing a bit at your last comment.
“The serial killer was given the name…the Beast of Busan. And today, I’m interviewing him to get a deeper, more introspective outlook on why. Starting from the very beginning.”
Jungkook is excited, never having been interviewed like this before - at least not one with someone so beautiful such as yourself.
“Jeon Jungkook…” you gulp after saying his name. “...please introduce yourself.”
“My name is Jeon Jungkook. People of Busan know me as the Beast of Busan.” Jungkook chuckles, completely unfazed and lacks any empathy of why he got the name. “I was born and raised here. It’s my home. I love Busan.”
It was Jungkook’s idea to have camera’s set up facing him as he speaks into the microphone. He said whoever supports him would want to see footage of him - a vain statement. 
“You cannot love it that much, surely. You caused a panic.”
Jungkook licks his lips. “That I have.” he nods in agreement. 
“Would you like to tell us why?” you question. “Jungkook, did you know the victims?”
Jungkook blinks a few times as he contemplates the question. “Well, I’ve watched all of your live reports. That’s how I know their names.”
The flashing lights are nearly blinding as you power walk up the scene -  a crime scene. There’s yellow tape surrounding the home and police officers along with medics coming in and out of said home. There’s a small crowd of people surrounding the area that are being pushed aside by police.
“Reporter Lee is already on the scene.” you murmur to your camera man behind you, glancing at the reporter who was already giving an interview. “Start the camera.” 
You swallow thickly and await for the camera to start. “Hi,” you say towards the camera, the light flashing at you as it begins rolling. “Y/L Y/N reporting live at the scene of a gruesome murder. Right behind me is the home belonging to Kim Bora and Da Byeong-ho. Neighbors reported hearing screaming coming from inside the home and had contacted authorities. Upon arrival, authorities had found both bodies covered in blood and multiple stab wounds.”
Two stretchers are seen behind you and in the view of the camera. There’s gasps coming from surrounding people as police bring out said stretchers with the bodies of the fallen couple. Their bodies are zipped tightly inside of the black bag. 
“Authorities are unsure who was the culprit behind the murders thus far,” you turn your head towards Reporter Lee whose eyes are already on you. “More information to come.”
The camera is cut just as the bodies are brought inside the ambulances. The flashing lights are illuminating off of your skin and even if you don’t look it, your heart is thumping outside your chest.
Busan didn’t have this - there was a murderer on the loose. Now of course, it could have been personally - someone knew the couple for who they were. However, there was also the possibility that this was a random couple that someone chose to slain and the fact that whoever it was has not been caught sends shivers down your spine. 
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Reporter Lee stands before you with a smirk on his lips. You stand straighter. “Death is not a laughing matter.” you retort.
“It isn’t.” Reporter Lee nods in agreement. “However, something like this isn’t meant for women.”
“Excuse you?” you raise an eyebrow at the man. 
“I mean,” Reporter Lee shrugs his shoulders. “You should be reporting something softer. Death is so hardcore.”
“I’m aware. Thank you.” you turn away from Reporter Lee and at your camera man. “Let’s go.” you murmur, not sparing the man another glance.
Reporter Lee was infamous in Busan for always being at the scene of any crime committed - petty theft, break ins. This was just the cherry on top - a murder case. While other Reporters were now running to hop on the train, you were the only woman and he made sure he was going to make it harder for you. 
“You women have it easy,” you recall him stating one day as you follow behind him on scene of a robbery. “All you have to do is look pretty in front of the camera and you have people’s attention. There’s no real hardship for you.”
How wrong Reporter Lee was, because even now as you are just as qualified as these men are in journalism and reporting, you are still deemed as nothing but eye candy. 
However, you were not a fool. You wouldn’t allow whatever these men thought of you to run you off - if anything, it made you want to work harder to break out in the field of reporting. Being a woman did have its perks, but your plans wouldn’t work if the men saw you as a person instead of a piece of meat. You managed to get a hold of a police scanner and it made your job easier - especially when there was a reported murder just a few blocks away from the first one. 
“Y/L Y/N reporting live from the scene of yet another murder.” you say into the camera as police scattered behind you. “Reports say that the woman, Won Duri, had called the police while her boyfriend was being brutally attacked right in front of her. Here is the recording.”
The cameraman is fast, playing the recording that was saved from the police scanner. Screams erupt from the woman on the phone in an attempt to find help for her boyfriend. Behind her screams are muffled ones, followed by what appears to sound like stabbing and blood splatter. It’s chilling to listen to, but you manage to keep your face emotionless.
“Right behind me,” you say as the recording goes silent. “police are escorting the body of Won Duri’s boyfriend, Yuk Jaehyung, to the hospital. He is in critical condition while Won Duri managed to remain unharmed.”
Won Duri is a crying mess who is attempting to be consoled by police officers. She’s covered in blood belonging to her boyfriend. “Excuse me,” you say as you come closer to the victim. “please tell-”
“You cannot be here.” one police officer says, pushing you aside roughly. “This is a crime scene.”
“I’m well aware.” you retort. “I’m here to speak to the victim. Obviously,”
‘Obviously,” the police officer interrupts. “She is in no position to talk.”
“Maybe she would be easier to speak with a woman than being surrounded by men after being attacked by one.” you spit, voice laced with venom.
The police officers are taken aback by your words, but even he takes a step back.
“Pass me a water bottle.” you say an officer. You come closer to Duri and place a hand onto her shoulder. “You must be so frightened, Duri. It’s okay.” 
Duri’s eyes are wide and she's handed a bottle of water by an officer. 
“Have you seen your attacker?” you ask Duri. She nods hesitantly. “Can you describe him for us? It’ll make it easier for investigators to find him.”
You’re patient with Duri as she slowly takes a sip of her water. Her hands are trembling the entire time and you’re truly sorry for what the woman had to endure. 
“He was young.” Duri’s voice is soft and timid. “U-Um, black hair. He…had hand tattoos.”
You nod your head the entire time, never losing eye contact with Duri. 
“I remember a p-purple heart. His eyes were so…dark. He had a lip piercing and…”
Duri begins to cry and you glance at the officers. “Thank you, Duri.” you tell her, offering a shoulder squeeze. 
You take a few steps back and turn back to your cameraman. “Did you get all of that?” you ask him and when he nods, you sigh. “Duri managed to survive the attack and got a good look at her attacker. There’s no way in Hell he won’t be caught.”
The Beast of Busan was what the killer was called, and on Valentine’s Day he had ended his spree with murdering a dozen more couples on the same day. The city was in shambles, all wondering just who the Beast of Busan was and the reasons for his actions. Some reporters had speculated it was because he was single and hated couples - a popular theory amongst the group of reporters. Others suggested that the culprit was not a killer, but a group of killers working together because of how rapid the murders were. 
You, however, didn’t dwell too much into the “Why”. “The murderer or murderers do not need a reason to kill. They kill because he or they wants to.” you say, microphone close to your mouth as you speak, your eyes right in the camera. “Whoever the Beast of Busan is, there is never a reason to kill and harm innocent people.”
“Thank you, Y/N.”
That voice, your mind groans. Reporter Lee stands in front of your camera without a welcome. He understands that live recording is crucial for reporters, so you wouldn’t shove your foot up his ass and break away from your professional view. 
“I, however, believe the Beast of Busan is a coward.” Reporter Lee states into your camera. “He’s a jealous incel who’s possibly a lonely bastard, excuse my language, and murdered the lives of innocent people simply because they were couples.” Reporter Lee shrugs his shoulders. “I suppose you could be correct.” you lick your lips, clenching the microphone in your hand. “That could be the reason. But-”
“Could?” Reporter Lee scoffs. “What other reason would he murder couples on Valentine’s Day?”
“There’s been other mass murderers that do so without deeper meaning, Reporter Lee.” your grit your teeth in an attempt to smile at him - not genuine in the slightest. “We will only know when the Beast of Busan is arrested.” you turn towards your camera man and smile. “I’m Y/L Y/N, thank you.”
Your head snaps to Reporter Lee as soon as the camera stops rolling. “What the fuck-”
“Calm down.” Reporter Lee rolls his eyes, not allowing you the chance to speak. He turns away from you and begins to walk. Your eyes widen at the rudeness of it all.
“Fuck you!” you hiss after him, your palm throbbing with how hard you were clenching the microphone. You wanted nothing more than to hurl it at the back of his head, but that would do nothing but cause an unnecessary scene. 
“Y/N…”
Your camera man places a hand on your shoulder. 
“I know.” you sigh. Inhale, exhale, you tell yourself. “I’m just tired of being disrespected.”
You weren’t taken seriously - and you never were. You didn’t even consider reporting to be a “male dominated field”, however, it was becoming such. You weren’t as well-known as Reporter Lee, him being the top stationed in Busan, but you also didn’t look down on others such as him. How he was considered the best reporter is beyond you. 
“What do you think the reason is?” your cameraman asks as he and you stroll towards the van. “Could there be a deeper reason for why he murdered those people?”
You shrug your shoulders. “Maybe it’s because we give them cool names like ‘The Beast of Busan’.” you scoff, not entirely selling your argument. “I don’t think there’s a deeper reason as to why people do what they do. Murder is never an option.”
Your heart jolts when Jungkook’s eyes are suddenly on you, a shiver running up your spine at his words. 
“I didn’t know them before. They were strangers to me.” Jungkook shrugs. “By your reports, Won Duri called the police as I was tussling with her boyfriend.”
“Tussling? Or brutally attacking?” you nearly spit.
Jungkook flashes you a low grin. “We can call it that.” he nods. “Yuk Jaehyung was his name. Again, I didn't know him. Didn’t care to know him.” he shrugs. “I only know his name because I watched your live report on the matter.”
You wished Jungkook would stop trying to add you into the mix. It’s subtle, but it’s enough for some people to think deeper - and you don't need any conspiracies tied to your name. 
“What was your reasoning for attacking the couple - and a dozen more?”
Jungkook’s eyes trails over the sundress, admiring the way it sits against your body. “You look very pretty today.”
“I’ll have to edit that out.” you sigh, but your body reacts for you, heat radiating throughout. 
“Sorry.” Jungkook flashes a smile that would cause your heart to beat faster if he wasn’t a serial killer who lacked empathy. “Would it be sad to say…that I didn’t have a reason?”
Jungkook’s skin appears to glow in the camera, your eyes flickering to the way he leans a bit closer, his jaw appears chiseled and you understood why he had a bit of fangirls. Maybe it was easier to be attracted to a killer when he was behind bars - still, he was just that. A killer. 
“Maybe I was bored?” Jungkook says with a careless shrug. “Maybe what people were saying was correct. Maybe I was lonely and took it out on couples.”
You remain silent as Jungkook speaks.
“Or maybe I just did it, just because. To see how far I’d be able to go.”
Jungkook’s tone gets deeper and deeper as he speaks, his eyes more cloudy. That familiar switch turns off and it’s as if the Beast is emerging. 
“Maybe…I wanted your attention.”
You can feel the hair begin to rise on your skin. “Excuse me?” you murmur. “I didn’t know you prior to-”
“I knew you, Y/N.”
Your eyes begin to widen slowly. 
“Maybe you were the reason why I killed them.”
“Stop.”
“I wanted to get your attention any way I could. Any attention from you is good attention in my eyes.”
“Stop.” your teeth grit, heart pounding so loudly. “You said-”
“I know what I said, baby. I’ll never do anything to incriminate you.” Jungkook chuckles, bunny teeth on display. “Let’s continue the interview, yeah?”
“You aren’t scared?” Jimin asks with raised eyebrows and a concerned look.
You scoffed.
“Why should I be?”
A month had passed since the Valentine’s Day Massacre - a name given by the people - by the Beast of Busan - another name given. Police and investigators had yet to find the person or people responsible. 
The city of Busan was left in shambles. People were in a frenzy, wondering if they’d be next. They kept extra precaution while law enforcement did the same. There was now a curfew of 9 PM for everyone who did not have a Government job, and if so, they would be escorted to and from work by armed police.
“He’s murdered several reporters. Including Reporter Lee.” Jimin says matter-of-factly, as if it was an obvious statement - and it was. “Do you really want to keep tempting him until he finds you?”
Your last cameraman had resigned, stating that the job isn't worth his life. You couldn’t be upset with him - after the news of Reporter Lee’s death, it caused a shift for all reporters. The murderer had left a handwritten note - written with the blood of Reporter Lee - stating that he had killed him.
Jimin was your new cameraman that had started a week ago. He was kind and cute - would fit the description of a reporter instead of a cameraman. He had the charm and the charisma to be in front of a camera. 
“If I don’t report then we’re both out of a job, Jimin.” you remind him with a nod of your head. “What is happening now is truly sickening…” you begin, licking your lips. Your mind flashes with the gruesome sight of Reporter Lee’s home. Blood splatter across the walls and seeping through the wooden floors. It haunts you at night. “...but I’m not going to let anyone come between what I love to do.”
Jimin could only sigh. He respected you and your courageousness, truly. He just hoped you knew what you were getting yourself into. 
In your mind, you did know what you were getting yourself into. You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t frighten you to your core - that it didn’t keep you up at night at times. You couldn’t sleep most nights, and when you did, you would see the bloodied bodies of the reporters who all died doing exactly what you were doing.
You often looked over your shoulders when you were alone - which was only when you were home. You invested in several cameras and alarms and even went as far as keeping several weapons near you when you were home and on your person while you were out.
It’s insane to think that you live your life as if your job was dangerous - but now it was. You were possibly targeted by the Beast of Busan simply because you refuse to halt reporting on his heinous crimes. 
You opened up your bottled water and only managed to take a sip before your police scanner was going off once more.
Your eyes turn to Jimin who only nods, getting the point that you wanted him to drive to the destination.
There had been another murder and, of course, the suspect was no one other than the Beast of Busan. Upon the scene, there were no other reporters - which is expected. Reporters had since quit their jobs once they learned of the deaths of their competition.
“Y/L Y/N live on the scene of yet another brutal murder.”  you speak, microphone close to your lips as Jimin already has the camera’s rolling.
There’s dozens of police officers behind you that are adding caution tape. The townspeople, much like the reporters, were no longer interested in showing their faces around the crime scenes. They would rather watch the news from their homes behind locked doors - not that you could blame them. You and Jimin were deemed highly courageous to still show your faces publicly where the Beast could possibly find you.
“Officer’s,” you nod your head as two police officers had stepped forward. They appeared to be distressed - you assume the crime scene was another brutal sight. “were there any survivors?”
One officer sighs with a shake of his head. He glances from you to the camera. 
“Reporter Y/L…we have something you might want to see.” the other officer speaks. 
Your hand clenches your microphone as you are shown a bloodied picture. The irony smell hits your nostrils almost immediately and your stomach begins to clench.
You release a struggle gasp at what the picture is.
You.
It was you - not reporting. You don’t recall anyone being around when you had made your way home that one evening. You appear to be dazed, as if stuck in your own thoughts.
“There’s a message behind the picture.” the officer speaks, slowly turning it around - almost as if this was a moving and the camera is panning onto the picture in slow motion.
You swallow down your fears. You are positive that everyone watching is terrified for you - you’d be another reporter dead by the hands of the Beast.
“Lovely Y/N,” you read aloud, eyes looking towards the camera. “you’re so beautiful when you’re not looking. I hope you enjoy the masterpiece I left for you.”
Jimin cuts the cameras before you have to tell him to and instantly, you release your nerves onto the ground besides you. 
“You have to stop reporting on him, Y/N.” Jimin nearly pleads. “He’s been following you!”
“You’re going to need more protection.” one officer sighs, rubbing at his temples. “That’s what he wants.” you spit, your throat clenching up once more and for a moment you think you’re going to vomit again. 
“Y/N…” Jimin sighs with a disbelieving shake of his head. “...you cannot be serious?”
“I’m not going to stop reporting on him.” you turn your back and begin to walk towards the news van. “He wants people to fear him as if he’s some sort of entity. Like a force to be reckoned with.”
Jimin follows close behind you. “He’s been following you, Y/N. You aren’t safe!”
“None,” your hand grasps onto the door handle and you swing it open. In the passenger seat is a bottle of water. You grab it to wash your mouth out. “of us are safe. Just in one month, Jimin, he’s managed to scare everyone off of the streets.”
You gargle onto the water before spitting it out.
You were terrified, you won’t lie. You couldn’t bear venturing further into the crime scene to witness how gruesome the murders were - or how he left you a personal note. Surely it was to scare you away from doing your job - scare you away from your passion.
You wouldn’t.
“Is this really worth your life, Y/N?” Jimin’s voice is like the angel on your shoulder attempting to steer you away from harm. 
“I understand that it isn’t worth yours, Jimin.” you turn to him with a soft look in your eyes. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. I’m not stopping.” you shake your head. “I’m not going to cower away like a dog with their tail between their legs.”
Jimin thinks your bravery is admirable - even if your plans were suicidal. There was a serial killer in Busan, killing innocent people just because he could and here you stand as if it was a regular day.
“Just…promise me you’ll stay safe.” Jimin sighs. He wasn’t going to steer you away from what you were determined to do. There was a spark in your eye; this was a challenge to you. It was a rivalry similar to what you and Reporter Lee had; the difference is, your life's on the line.
The next hour - and the following month - was just like this. Jungkook would often flirt with you and each passing day, it would get even more inappropriate. It was the same thing time and time again, the switch would flip and he would be back to his boy-next-door ways and he would be complicit in the interview.
You had a month full of content and the first episode would be released on your Podcast and - thanks to Jimin - your own website. 
Jungkook had insisted he didn’t speak to anyone else while he gave you the information you needed. It felt wrong doing this - giving Jungkook a platform where he never truly felt sorry for what he’s done. A part of you feels horrible for profiting off of the death and trauma of others for your own personal gain.
“Once the money starts rolling in, baby, you’ll be fine.” Jungkook had said. Baby was his new pet name for you, no matter how many times you told him that it made you uncomfortable. His response was that if you truly felt uncomfortable in his presence, you’d stop returning day by day.
“There'll be mixed reactions for sure.” Jimin says once he manages to upload the first episode to your podcast and the video interview to your website. “But you’re a reporter and you’ll be ready for them.”
You nod your head, releasing a deep breath. 
“So,” Jimin turns to you. “what happens now? Are you done seeing Jungkook?”
You want to say yes. You want to feel free from Jungkook and his terrifying gaze and his sudden changes of mood. You don’t want to feel so small in front of someone who isn’t able to harm you - so vulnerable.
Truth is, you’re unsure of yourself. Jungkook had insisted that you come back and see him time and time again, and now that you didn’t need to, what was the point?
“I have my life to lose if I don’t.” you say to Jimin. 
“You’re going to keep allowing him to threaten you?” Jimin questions with a raised eyebrow. “He’s in prison for a reason. I’m sure if you don’t return…what could truly happen? We have everything we need already. Everyone will know about Jungkook and just how insane he is.”
You open your mouth to speak but Jimin wasn’t done. 
“You are the reporter. You are the one that managed to get the story of Jungkook as the Beast of Busan. Anything he says after that would just go against his own story, wouldn’t it?”
Jimin was right - and you’ve always known. It was Jungkook that had such leverage over you that even the thought of him lying frightens you to your core. 
“I understand.” you sigh, defeated. 
“You want to watch the first episode?” Jimin furrows his brow. “The views are going up by the minute and there’s already so much traction on your site.”
Jimin wasn’t lying and as each episode dropped week by week, you - and Jungkook - were the talk happening on every news, radio, podcast station. There were indeed mixed reviews, some thanking you for telling the story of Jungkook - most people despised him but were interested in his story. Other’s despised you and Jungkook, stating that you were doing nothing but giving a psychopath a platform; and you were. 
Jungkook was right when he said you’d be racking in large amounts of money, a part of you feeling utterly shitty about how you’ve contained this money. You’ve done what you thought would be the right thing and donated a large sum of the money you’ve earned over the last few months to the families of Jungkook’s victims as this was also their stories being told.
It was as if time stood still.
The reign of terror that Busan has experienced for months on end was finally put to a stop - and the murderous being that was called the Beast of Busan has been captured.
You have seen many phenomenons during your life as a reporter, but this would be the most shocking in your book.
Jeon Jungkook, age 27, has been confirmed to be the serial murderer who had slain innocent people, starting on Valentine’s day earlier in the year. 
Many people had their suspicions on who the Beast was. An older man with a vengeance against younger couples in love because he found none. Someone vile and cruel and looked the part.
What anyone - you included - was not expecting was someone young. 
Someone handsome.
Jeon Jungkook was something straight out of a movie - the typical love interest in your favorite romance. The common boy next story with boyish looks that would cause your heart to flutter and your body to heat up.
Tall with dark hair that curls slightly at the tips of it. It sits at his shoulders and in the slight wind in the evening, it flows beautifully. 
His skin appears soft and smooth - blemish free and so young-like to add to his boyish appearance. But it was his body that reminded everyone that he was a man; a fit one at that. His shirt, white and stained with crimson blood, clings to him. Its sleeves are short and display a full arm of tattoos. His jeans are ripped at the knee’s and again, stained with the same blood. 
Jeon Jungkook caused a frenzy when he was arrested - you being the only reporter on the scene. You couldn’t look at him, not after what he’s put you through the last few months. Constant letters addressed to you that got worse and worse as time led on - more inappropriate and sexual.
 “I often watch you on the news and think just how lovely your lips would look wrapped around me…”
“You’re so stubborn and independent. I cannot wait to make you submit to me…”
And those were the tame ones.
Your eyes avert when his head snaps to you. Your heart was pounding outside your chest and visible, your hand - clenching your microphone - began to shake with nerves. Jimin had noticed and cut the camera’s quickly from you and towards Jungkook - who’s eyes stared right at you. 
It was evident from the beginning that Jeon Jungkook had no desire to kill you - and if he did, he was just toying with you first. The amount of times that he has come too close without being caught was countless. He would leave bloodied roses outside your home and letters signed with “Your Beast”.
You were lucky to be alive, some said. Blessed, as if God was on your side.
You didn’t show the public that it was difficult to sleep at night because you felt as though his eyes - eyes you never seen until his arrest - were on you. You felt the constant need to ride and hide from someone you never knew if they were truly watching you or not.
Your mind racks through countless memories to see if you’ve ever seen Jeon Jungkook before as he was the perfect serial killer. He was someone you could have walked past and never suspected simply because of his appearance.
Months dragged on and Jeon Jungkook, also known as the Beast of Busan, was a hit.
Like an idol - not one to look up to in the slightest.
You were shocked when each court hearing, there were countless women - even men - outside on the side of a murderer. There were some declaring that he wasn’t the Beast simply because of his appearance, completely ignoring the fact that he was caught at the scene of the crime - and confessed to over a dozen others.
You attended each hearing alongside Jimin, your legs shaking with nerves.
Jeon Jungkook terrified you - the way his head would turn and his eyes would lock with your before he would give a curt wave and a low smirk. He didn’t seem bothered that he was facing several life sentences.
The letters never stopped - not even when you signed a restraining order and demanded that he would not have the possibility to do so. You were told that Jungkook never sent you letters directly - his followers did.
It causes shivers to run up your spine at the thought of someone like Jungkook - a murderous human being - could have followers and fangirls. With a snap of his finger, they did whatever he desired. It was as if he wasn’t sitting in prison due to his crimes. They looked at Jungkook as some sort of Prophet. 
“Maybe you should take some time off.” Jimin suggested, having witnessed you down yet another cup of coffee. “He’s weighing on your mind heavily.”
“Of course he fucking is. People don’t see him as a piece of shit like I do.” you hiss, not truly meaning to speak to Jimin in such a harsh tone. “How is it that people think he’s innocent? Or the ones who know he did it, they…they romanticize it?!”
Jimin takes a deep breath. He isn’t sure how to console you. Jungkook is locked away in a prison and yet it’s as if he’s roaming free. 
You remained looking over your shoulder constantly. The bloodied roses continued to be at your doorstep every day, all signed with “Your Beast”. You received phone calls - the first one you answered had been Jungkook himself, claiming that he wished to speak with you. When you blocked the number, the calls remained, all three way calls with his followers. It got to the point that you hadn’t answered your phone in weeks.
“People romanticize the both of you.” Jimin taps his fingers against his thighs. “Like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde.”
“I’m not complicit in his bullshit.” you close your eyes and inhale, counting just like your therapist had told you to. You couldn’t allow yourself to get too worked up. “I just want him to leave me alone, Jimin. I don’t….I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Jimin swallows. “How about…” he begins. “...you talk with him.”
“Jimin-”
“In the form of an interview!” Jimin raises his hand in defense. “Just, hear him out. He refuses to speak to anyone but you. You could be the one to sell the story of the Beast of Busan himself.”
You couldn’t believe that Jimin wanted you to profit off of this madness - and face the man that stalks you right from a jail cell. 
“Take back your own control, Y/N. You’re the one that’s free, not him.” Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t let him control your life more than he already has.”
You sigh, leaning back into your chair. 
Was Jimin onto something? Could you possibly do that without chickening out?
What were you scared of? He couldn’t hurt you - not while in prison. If he wanted to, surely he would have. 
But you remained terrified of what could happen, and deep down it was you becoming the same as the fangirls who preached for his release.
“Y/N.”
It took yet another month for you to sit across from Jeon Jungkook.
The cafeteria is large and pristin. White walls, white tiled floors with white lights and white tables and chairs - all metal. It matches the all white attire that Jungkook wears, similar to a prison jumpsuit, just bleached white and clean. The windows right outside display the current season - autumn. The leaves are a different shade of brown and orange while the wind blows them along the ground.
“You look beautiful.”
Jungkook had agreed to your interview quite too quickly for your liking, but he had his own conditions.
Jungkook wanted to be alone with you - security just outside the door. He had promised to never hurt you - a promise you didn’t believe in the slightest. He isn’t bound, either, no cuffs or chains to restrain him if he desires to cause you any harm.
“Y/L Y/N,” you speak, the recorder on the table right in the middle. You ignore his complement. “And I am here with Jeon Jungkook.”
“Also known as the Beast of Busan.” Jungkook speaks, a hint of mischief and humor in his voice. His eyes, dark and doe like, twinkle underneath the white lights. 
Jungkook is proud to be what he is - a murderer. He gained respect, adoration and notoriety for being such. Why be an outstanding human being when people would grow fond of you just by your looks and charisma alone, completely ignoring the way you heinously slain human life?
“Jungkook,” you murmur. There’s a glass of water beside you and you had the sudden urge to take a sip. 
“I like the way you say my name.” Jungkook’s right hand allows his head to lean upon it as he blinks towards you. 
“Stop flirting with me.” you demand, snatching the glass of water and taking a gulp.
“Why? Is it because you like what I’m saying?” he murmurs, voice dropping in tone. “What if I’m not flirting with you?”
“Don’t try to manipulate me.” you snort, slamming down the glass onto the metal table. “Those letters you’ve sent me were inappropriate. What do you gain from them?”
Jungkook tilts his head a bit, allowing a low chuckle from his lips. “Why not?” he murmurs, eyes unmoving from your face. “Shouldn’t you be happy that you have my undivided attention? I send you flowers every day.”
“C-Covered in blood!” you hiss, taken aback. “Who delivers them?”
“Why worry yourself with irrelevancies?” Jungkook waves your question off. “You’re here to interview me, are you not? Ask me anything you wanna know!”
You watch as Jungkook leans back into his seat and waits for you to ask him questions. It was a staring match between the two of you - his dark eyes unmoving and seemingly, unblinking. You weren’t one to give up a challenge, either, but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t intimidating. 
“Why have you murdered innocent people?”
Jungkook snorts once more. He licks his lips, eyes trailing over your body with such perverseness that it causes your skin to crawl. 
“Why…not?”
The tone in Jungkook’s voice - so nonchalant and uncaring. As if the question wasn’t worth his time answering. He stares right back at you, his eyes admiring the way your eyebrow would twitch cutely with irritation.
“I mean,” Jungkook leans forward once more. “even you said that there was a possibility that there wasn’t a motive behind my actions, correct? That I was nothing but a monster that killed just because.”
Not exactly your words, but it’s what you did imply. You recall speaking with Reporter Lee about the situation towards the beginning of his killing spree.
“Is that why you killed those reporters?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Yes and no,” he admits. “I killed them because of you honestly.”
You freeze, slowly widening your eyes. You should stop the interview right here and now and leave - you didn’t want to be caught up in whatever mess Jungkook was attempting to drag you into.
“W-What-”
“I saw how they treated you, Y/N. As if you were nothing.” Jungkook shakes his head. “As if you didn’t work just as hard as them. Maybe even harder.”
A tattooed hand places itself onto the cool metal table. Jungkook lightly taps his fingers against it. 
“Sure, they upset me because they talked shit about me live. But so did you.” Jungkook throws a low smirk your way. “I killed them so you could be at the top. I’d admit…I thought I would scare you away at first. See how committed you were to your craft…and you proved to be stronger than any of those men.”
“I…” you’re unsure what to respond with. Could you be charged as an accessory - surely not! You had not known what Jungkook’s intentions were or been a part of them. “I didn’t tell you to do that.”
“You mean…you didn’t want me to?” Jungkook questions with a raised eyebrow. He chuckles at your flustered expression. “This interview isn’t getting aired, huh, Y/N? It’ll make you look bad, too.”
Jungkook halts his tapping against the table. “Or I can say whatever you want me to.” he shrugs. “So you can be in a positive light.”
“Why are you doing this?” you question, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart is pounding so fast outside your chest.
“Doing what?” Jungkook asks innocently. 
“I’m not one of your fucking fangirls!” you hiss, hands clenched into fists. “You can’t manipulate-”
“Calm down.” Jungkook raises both hands. “I’m not trying to manipulate you. What would I gain from that? I’m locked away for the rest of my life.”
Your hands unclenched so you could rub your temples. You take a deep breath.
“You taunt me, Jungkook.” you say behind gritted teeth. “You keep sending me letters and flowers and…you have people watch me! I don’t feel safe. Tell me what you want.”
Jungkook raises both brows. “Why don’t you feel safe? They won’t harm you.” he says, a bit of concern - you’re unsure if it’s fraudulent or not - in his voice.
“You’re a serial killer.” you deadpan with a scoff of disbelief. “Why would I feel safe being involved with you?”
“You aren’t dead.” Jungkook interjects. “Have I ever harmed you? Have I ever put my hands on you…?”
Jungkook watches you as he awaits a response. You bite the inside of your cheek. You were beginning to think that he was the interviewer and you were the one locked in a prison. 
“I watched you sleep at night…tossing and turning.” Jungkook’s voice drops again, a hushed whisper as if he was revealing a secret - and in a way, he was. “Isn’t that insane? I managed to get past the officers parked outside your home…past several cameras and made it right into your bedroom…”
A chill runs up your spine once his words register. Your mind races, going through countless memories of times you woke up randomly in the middle of the night. You told yourself that you were just frightened; rightfully so. Jungkook had slain countless innocent civilians and reporters that you just knew that you were next.
Jungkook suddenly inhales, leaning a bit closer to you from across the table. He sighs. 
“I can even smell the perfume you wear. Chanel, right? You have a bit of an expensive taste.”
It was obvious that Jungkook wasn’t lying and the thought of him being so close the entire time causes the hair on your skin to rise. Your lips  part and you let out a strained gasp.
“I don’t want you dead, Y/N. You fascinate me, you know?” 
“I think I’m done.” you murmur in a rush, your hand reaching out to grasp the small recorder to stop, but Jungkook is faster. His tattooed hand slams on top of it before yours could and you flinch away as if he was going to strike.
“Interview’s over so soon?” Jungkook questions with a raised eyebrow. “You barely asked me any questions.”
“I need to go.” 
Jungkook tilts his head. “Are you scared of me, Y/N?” he asks as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion at what this man - a sick individual - could be possibly speaking of. What in the world could you want from him?
“You wanted to be a respected reporter and I made you one.” Jungkook clicks off the recorder himself and slides it towards you. “People were tuned in to watch you because of me. You would be in the shadows if I had not taken out the competition.”
“T-That’s not-”
“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. I killed them because of you.” Jungkook hisses, dark eyes not blinking. “Reporter Lee…Reporter Jung…they’re dead because of you.”
That same shiver runs up your spine at Jungkook’s words. You’re stiff, heart pounding outside your chest and mind screaming at you to leave - screaming that Jungkook was wrong; but that he was also right. 
Your career had elevated because of the deaths of the reporters reporting on the Beast of Busan. You were determined to not allow that to stop you from doing what you loved - but in truth, Jungkook had not killed you because you were cautious; he didn’t because he had no desire to. 
“How about this?” Jungkook’s eyes blink and in a moment, it’s as if he’s the same boy next door. “You can write a book? Or maybe do a little series…how about a podcast?” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “And I’ll be nice and cooperative. You’ll be even more successful.”
You want to laugh in his face, but even now you don’t dare to. 
You had no desire to be more successful because of Jungkook as, no matter how cruel, it was true that your success depended on the death of innocent people.
“What do you want from me?”
Jungkook chuckles. It’s amazing how he could turn the sadistic side of him off and appear like an everyday man with charm. “I want you, silly.” he responds with a shake of his head, as if it was such a comical and obvious question. “I want to see you every other day!”
“I-I don’t-”
“Or I can speak to someone else.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Now that I’m no threat to the public, I have people lining up for interviews.”
“Then maybe you should speak to someone else.” you hiss, snatching your recorder from the table and when you’re about to stand is when Jungkook responds. 
“And I’ll tell them you were an accomplice.” Jungkook brings his fingers to his lips and makes a hushed shushing sound. “That you had me kill those reporters to elevate your career.”
You breath hitches at Jungkook’s words. “That’s not true…!”
“Of course it isn’t.” Jungkook snorts. “But I’m already in jail with nothing else to lose.” he shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, c’mon. You out of all people survived against the Beast of Busan? The last reporter standing?” he snickers. 
“Stop…” 
“Look how much it elevated your career, Y/N. Out of all the people I agreed to see…it was you. Investigators can check the visitors log and prove that you were an accomplice.”
“Stop it!” you want to scream, but it’s hushed and strained. 
“Don’t look like that, Y/N. I hate to see you look so sad.” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I don’t want to do that, you know?”
“What do you want from me?” 
Jungkook hums, his lips forming a smile that’s laced with sadism. “I want you. Is that too much to ask for? I want you to grace my presence with your pretty face and in return…you’ll have an inclusive story from the Beast himself.” 
Jungkook then laughs at the way he says the Beast - the way he speaks about himself. 
“You would be a renowned reporter turned…author, maybe? Who knows?” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders and waves his hands. “How about…you come back tomorrow and we can start from the beginning. You can ask me anything you’d wish to know and I’ll answer truthfully.”
You sniffle, your nose scrunching cutely that Jungkook couldn’t help but want to coo. 
You release a deep breath, your mind screaming at you to run as far away as possible - but you only know that it wouldn’t be the end; it never will. Jungkook has eyes on you constantly and it causes your skin to crawl and now, you’d be unable to know just who was one of his followers. If you denied Jungkook now, he would only lie to the press and have you in jail alongside him.
“O…Okay.” you murmur quietly, your tone - along with your expression - defeated. 
“Lovely.” Jungkook claps his hands together, dark eyes twinkling and a smile on his lips. “You should wear that dress you have in your closet tomorrow. The sundress.”
You feel the familiar shiver run up your spine once more.
Jungkook watches you from the small screen in the corner of the all white room. His head is tilted to the side as you speak to the interviewer - you looked so beautiful, he thinks. His pen is tapping against the notebook he’s currently drawing you in, the blue ink displaying such a lovely picture of you that he keeps in his sketch book - the third one he has filled up so far.
 You were glowing as you spoke to the reporter. You were truly a work of art with a heart of gold that he admires as others would have allowed the new found fame to get to their heads - but not you. You were the special ones on Earth, someone so noble.
“Now Y/N, talk to me. How did it feel to be so close to him?” the interviewer asks you and Jungkook visibly straightens up as he awaits your response. “I mean, it had to be terrifying being next to the Beast of Busan himself!”
“At first it was.” you nodded your head. “But I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the one incarcerated.”
Jungkook hums at your response. 
“You managed to come face to face with a serial killer and you weren’t the least bit scared?”
“Of course not.” you snorted. “Jeon Jungkook gained notoriety because we as a society gave it to him. Why do we call him the Beast of Busan when he’s nothing but a regular human being like you and I? A terrible one at that.”
Slowly, Jungkook’s eyes begin to widen at your words. Is that what you thought of him after all the long hours he’s helped you with your site? That he was nothing but a terrible person - as if he wasn’t the one who encouraged you to profit off of his story?
“My time alongside Jungkook wasn’t something I’ve enjoyed.” you shook your head. “He’s a psychopath that lacks any form of accountability. He’s…in a way, a scared little boy.”
The pen is being clenched in the palm of his hand so tight that it begins to pulse. He can feel the array of eyes of inmates on him as your words repeat over and over again in his head.
“In one of the episodes, Jungkook states that there wasn’t a reason for what he’s done. Do you think that’s true?”
“There’s always a reason for why people do what they do. It’s cowardly, in my opinion, for someone to take innocent lives. I’m sure there had to be a deeper reason for why Jungkook did what he did, but I won’t dig any deeper into his life.” you explained, nodding your head to the interviewer. “I’ve done my job and now, I want to not give any more recognition to Jeon Jungkook. I want him to be a distant memory in the back of all of our heads.”
The metal chair squeaks harshly as he slams his body up. A few inmates all gasp and cover their ears as Jungkook screams, hurling the notebook - all filled with portraits of you - across the room. He was angered - rightfully so. You had used him for your own gain and threw him aside as if he was nothing.
As if he wasn’t the reason why you - a reporter - was being interviewed. He was the reason you had no competition in a world where you were never respected.
He was the reason you reached a status that was once so unattainable - and now you claim to be done with him?
Jungkook’s body begins to spasm as he feels an intense pain all over it. He falls to his knees, a few hands on him forcing his arms behind his back. Your voice lingers in the back of his head as he’s dragged out of the room and down the hall towards his own holding cell.
You take a few deep breaths as the interviewer requests a brief commercial break. You were a bundle of nerves, but you were used to being on the camera, just not the one being interviewed.
“You got this.” Jimin smiles at you, handing you a bottle of water. “You look so…”
“Nervous? Scared out of my mind?” you joke, unscrewing the water bottle. “I know Jungkook is going to see this interview.” If he hasn’t already. 
“I’m sure he will. He is sitting in a prison with nothing else to do.” Jimin snorts. 
You begin to chug the water nervously, your throat feeling utterly parched after having been interviewed on Live television. 
“I know you think it’s crazy for me to feel this way.” you lick your lips as you finish the water bottle entirely. “But you know how Jungkook’s followers are. What if-”
“They won’t.” Jimin places a hand onto your shoulder. “You’ve moved into a gated community and a safer environment overall. Stop worrying yourself.”
It was easier said than done as day by day, you received countless phone calls from Jungkook - all of which you declined. You had not returned to the prison as your work was done and you decided to wash your hands clean of the man. 
The phone calls never stopped - not until you changed your number. It was a decision that would be utterly annoying - having to give your number to the right people and change everything around with emails and personal security, but it was a breath of fresh air.
Only for a moment, as Jungkook was always determined to make your life a living Hell.
The first letter you received you had not known it was from Jungkook - not until you read it and immediately recognized the handwriting. 
You had thrown it away immediately.
The letters came - almost daily. You had decided to install cameras to see who was placing these letters onto your door, and coincidentally, they had stopped and instead were placed right into your mailbox.
Each letter received became more and more aggressive, detailing how pissed he was that you used him and tossed him aside as if he was nothing.
“I made you what you are today.”
“You’d be nothing without me.”
“You are just as bad as me exploiting the lives of innocent people.”
That last statement stung, causing your heart to ache, but even then you had not bothered to return to the prison and face Jungkook like he had asked you to. 
The police were useless - stating that there was nothing they could do seeing as Jungkook had not sent them to you directly and instead, through a third party. 
“I can’t keep dealing with this.” you say to Jimin one afternoon, eyes dark due to exhaustion from lack of sleep. You always swore you saw things at night - maybe it was the paranoia getting to you. You always see Jungkook lurking in the shadows when you are seconds from falling asleep.
“I can’t eat Jimin. I can’t sleep….I can barely get out of bed.” you murmur, legs shaking with anxiety as your eyes dance around. “I know he isn’t there but…someone is. Someone is always watching me.” you continue. “They know where I live and what’s stopping them from-”
“They would have already, Y/N.” Jimin interrupts, shaking his head. “Just…try to relax. This is what Jungkook wants to happen. He wants to drive you insane so you’d end up where he’s at.”
You swallow back a response. 
“Have you talked to anyone about this besides me? Maybe you should see a therapist?” Jimin suggests. “You’ve endured a lot, Y/N. You were face to face with a serial killer who’s hell bent on dragging you down. It’s not going to be an easy ride.” Jimin furrows his brows. “I can schedule you an appointment.”
“I haven’t left my house in months, Jimin.” you scoff - ever since you received drawings from Jungkook. They were of you wearing a particular outfit you had worn to a trip to the store. Now, all of your interviews are done from your own home. It was a blessing that the interview with Jungkook had garnered you an insane amount of money - but a curse that now you could barely manage to leave your home without wondering if you’re being watched. 
“I can have someone come to you.” Jimin waves his hand.
“No.” you shake your head hastily. “I-I-”
“I’ll be here.” Jimin interjects. “I can sit with you or I can sit right outside the room. Trust me, Y/N…” Jimin has never seen you like this before. You weren’t sleeping and barely eating. You were stressed and full of anxious nerves. You haven’t gone outside in months, and if you had it was only to your front door. “...if it doesn’t work out, then you don’t have to talk to her again.”
This is how you found yourself currently, sitting in your large living room where Jimin sat not too far away. A therapist he recommended, an older woman with cat-like glasses stares back at you. She seems kind, you think. 
“Please, take all the time you  need to think about the question.” she says and in your mind, a clock is clicking over and over again.
“I…I’m not sure.” you admit. “I know he’s never going to be released from jail but…I know he’s having me followed and watched.”
The woman nods her head slowly, listening closely. 
“It’s crazy to think that I was less frightened when he was just the Beast of Busan. Nothing but an entity without a face.” you snort at yourself, withering in self-pity. “But now that he’s incarcerated, it’s like…he owns me.”
“Your feelings are valid, Y/N.”
“Are they?” you asked truthfully. “I…I feel like I shouldn’t be terrified for my life because I’m not an actual victim of his.”
“Why do you believe you are not?” your therapist questions with a raised brow. “You are being threatened constantly by him.”
You nod slowly - but she doesn’t know what Jungkook has told you many months ago concerning his threats. Jungkook had admitted to not wishing to kill you, yes - but it was a matter of time until he did something to cause you harm. You’re positive his initial thoughts of leaving you unharmed has since disappeared. 
“I understand but…physically, I’m alright.” 
Your therapist tilts her head. 
“Mentally?” she questions. “Emotionally? Spiritually…?”
“Drained.” you murmur.
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“Infection.” 
Jungkook turns his eyes towards the faint sound, his body feeling utterly exhausted. His throat was dry and he longed for water. 
“You’re awake.”
Jungkook’s eyes are the nurse, a petite woman that checks the IV connected to his arm.
“You must be thirsty.” the nurse murmurs, a bloody tint to her cheeks when Jungkook’s bat’s his long lashes at her.
“How long?” Jungkook’s voice is hoarse. “...you said infection.” he goes to move his wrist, just to find that they are bound to the hospital bed. His eyelids blink a few more times, now realizing that he did not recognize where he was at.
“For a few days.” the nurse struggles, putting down her clipboard. “You were transported here after passing out.”
Jungkook swallows thickly, his throat aching. His lips were as dry as his throat, and as his tongue coats them he can feel the cracks against it.
“I have to pee.” Jungkook’s voice continues.
The nurse widens her eyes slightly. “I-I…”
“Please.” Jungkook begs, panting. He sits up on the hospital bed, his body heavy. 
Maybe it’s the way Jungkook looks so disheveled and in a great amount of pain that the nurse slowly nods her head. She doesn’t find any red flags in doing what she does next. She assists Jungkook up, having him lean against the bed as she manages to unbind his wrists from the bed.
“Thank you.” Jungkook murmurs as he enters the bathroom connected to the hospital room. He closes the door behind him as the lights flicker on.
Jungkook looks into the mirror, dark bags underneath his eyes. He closes them for a bit as he takes a long, deep breath.
Jungkook’s mind flashes with images of you and instantly, his blood begins to boil. Even if it's been a year since your live interview, it’s all he can think of in his mind. He shakes his head, scoffing to himself at your audacity - something he could never get over.
“Are you alright in there?”
The nurse knocks onto the door after about 10 minutes, her head pumping. The hospital is quiet and the eerie silence startles her; a complete unsettling feeling.
Jungkook turns on the water and begins to wash his hands, his eyes never leaving his reflection.
“I’m sorry.” 
Jungkook murmurs once he opens the bathroom door. He has a bit of a limp, notices the nurse. 
“My body is so…heavy.” Jungkook swallows once more. “Can I get some water, please?”
The nurse slowly nods her head. Jungkook eyes the way her frame slightly trembles as he steps closer to her, an obviously frightened look in her eyes as she knew who he was and what he is capable of.
“It’s amazing how you can even be standing up. You’re under so much…” the nurse trails off, swallowing. There’s already a large jug of water on the rolling cart that's full of water. It’s warm now, all the ice having melted, but it’s water nonetheless. “H-Here.” she says, delicate hands going to grab the jug to hand it to the man.
Jungkook takes the jug in his hands with a nod of his head. He places it upon his lips and instantly moans when the water touches his tongue. He possibly appears like a caveman, downing the water without any manners.
The nurse watches closely as a trail of water slides down the corners of Jungkook’s lips, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows the water, completely dehydrated.
“Thank you.”
Jungkook exhales. His eyes roam around the dim-lit hospital room. The blinds upon the large window are drawn and it’s dark, possibly early morning. He doesn’t have a clock in here to see exactly what time it is.
“You said…there was an infection?” Jungkook questions the nurse, holding out the jug of water for her to take. 
“Yes.” the nurse nods, taking the jug in her hands and placing it onto the cart. “I can get you more water in a moment.”
“That would be amazing.” Jungkook slowly cracks a smile. “Where am I? Am I still in Gyeongju?”
The nurse shakes her head. “No, you were transported to Ulsan.” she responds. 
Ulsan. Jungkook hums - he wasn’t far from Busan; meaning he wasn’t far from you. 
“Please lay down.” the nurse speaks suddenly. “I have to put these cuffs back onto you.”
Jungkook blinks, then slowly nods his head. “Yeah. You do.”
 Jungkook goes to sit down on his hospital bed. He had a bit of a limp, but nothing too major. He just needed to walk around more to regain the strength back onto his legs. 
“Thank you so much.” Jungkook lifts his left arm up so the nurse can place the cuffs upon them. “You…are very kind. You must love what you do here.”
The door to the room opens and in comes a doctor, who stops dead in his tracks as he eyes the way the nurse has the cuffs in her hands. She’s startled, and within a few seconds, Jungkook jumps up and wraps an arm around her neck.
“Close the door gently.” Jungkook demands, his voice sinisterly low. His eyes glare at the doctor, the nurse’s neck held roughly between his arms. 
“Why did you uncuff him?” the doctor seethes at the nurse, closing the door behind him. “Do you not know who he is?”
“Jeon Jungkook. The Beast of Busan.” Jungkook chuckles with a shake of his head. “Take your clothes off.”
“You…don’t have to do this.” the doctor raises his hands. “You’re not going to get far-”
Jungkook pushes the nurse in front of him. She cries out when her hair is yanked.
“I will kill her right now!” Jungkook hisses. “Take your fucking clothes off.”
The nurse's arms reach back to tug away Jungkook’s hands from her hair, hot tears falling down her cheeks.
“Okay, okay…” the doctor swallows thickly, pulling off his white coat first. “Don’t hurt her, okay? I’m doing what you ask.”
The doctor's dress pants are next, a shiver running through his body as he does this. How embarrassing this was - and how angered he felt for the naivety of one of his nurses. 
“Pass them to me.” Jungkook instructs. “Gently.”
The doctor gatherers his clothing and begins to walk towards Jungkook. Without much warning, Jungkook slams the nurse aside, her body hitting one of the monitors. Jungkook moves quickly in grabbing the doctor by his neck next, slamming his head down onto the ground.
In horror, the nurse begins to cry even harder, a hand clasping down onto her lips. Her tears are blurring her vision, and she could only hear the way the doctors head slams against the white floor over and over again until Jungkook was satisfied.
“Stop all that fucking crying.” Jungkook hisses, throwing the doctor to the side for a moment. “I haven’t put my hands on you enough to be crying. Get up.”
“N-No, no, please-”
“I said get up!” Jungkook hisses, getting to his feet to yank the poor woman to her feet. He pushes her towards the now dead doctor, blood oozing all over the floor. “Clean the blood up.” he instructs.
Jungkook didn’t have time to waste. He grasps the doctor and places him onto the bed, covering him with the thin sheets. It was a matter of time before someone - anyone - would find out he wasn’t here, and he planned to be long gone before then. 
“I’m not going to kill you.”
The nurse’s crying hasn’t stopped, her trembling hands cleaning up the stained blood the best she could. Jungkook had closed the blinds as he dressed in the doctor's garments. He wanted the room to be as dark as possible.
“You’re the reason why I’m getting out of here. Your life can be spared.” Jungkook explains, placing on the dress shoes and tying them tightly. “But, if you don’t listen, that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” the nurse cries.
“Do you have a car?” Jungkook questions. “We need to get out of here.”
“W…We?”
Jungkook wants to laugh at the look upon her face. He had managed to place a mask over his lips.
“You’re not staying here.” Jungkook quips, amused. “I need you to walk me out of here and to your car.”
“Where…please I-I can’t-”
“Get the fuck up.” Jungkook’s demeanor changes once more, his patience running thin. He’s unsure where the officers are at, and he needs someone familiar with the hospital to show him  around. “Take me to your car…or any fucking car now. Make a scene, and I’ll have no choice but to kill you.” Jungkook says. “I don’t want to do that. You look so young…”
Jungkook places a tattooed hand onto the woman's head, patting her gently. “...a long life ahead of you. Just listen, and it’ll be over sooner than later.”
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“You think it’s all over?”
It’s a question you ask yourself. A few months prior, the phone calls, gifts and letters all stopped - and the dreadful feeling you once felt at being watched slowly subsided. You actually felt like you could leave your home again - but you always remained cautious.
Your security cameras haven’t picked up any movement like you usually had; how Jungkook’s followers managed to hide within the shadows was beyond you.
You felt as if you could finally breathe the fresh air of freedom once more. Your therapy sessions worked and you could only thank Jimin for that.
Some people in the public didn’t like you for obvious reasons. They called you a sellout for interviewing Jungkook, but you couldn’t dwell on those who didn’t like you. The victims' families weren’t upset with you for sharing their fallen loved one stories, and that’s all you could focus on.
“I hope so.” you murmur over the phone to Jimin. “I haven’t heard anything about him and I’m glad.”
The night is quiet and moonless, and it goes just about the same as it usually does. Jimin checks in on you, and he and you share a conversation. It varies, usually being about an hour before he bids you a goodnight.
Tonight was no different, you having placed your phone right on your nightstand and laying yourself against your cool pillow. You release a sigh, eyes instantly feeling heavy. You enjoyed sleeping to white noise as it relaxed you, the total silence that would be in your room had an eerie feeling you never enjoyed.
Jungkook didn’t hate you like he should - like he thought he would’ve when his eyes fall upon you. However, he doesn’t. He cannot bring himself to.
Jungkook understands that for the last few months leading up to the year of him being incarcerated, you had ultimately betrayed him. To think he, Jeon Jungkook, also known as the Beast of Busan, had given you a platform. You, a reporter who wasn’t respected in your field of work. Your fellow reporters looked down upon you just because you were a woman in a field dominated by the opposite sex.
Jungkook had killed them off, deciding that he would test you. You had passed his test and he did what he sought out to do - cause more chaos. Maybe that’s what attracted him to you. The fact that you weren’t afraid of him. It amused him no doubt, the way you continued to report on his day by day without any fear in your eyes. 
While reporters continued to drop dead just by reporting on Jungkook, the more certain reporters quit their jobs. Except you. Certain news outlets didn’t wish to report on him. Magazines, radios. Bravery such as this was only a dime a dozen; you captivated him.
Of course,  you were brave, but dumb. Jungkook had allowed you to get a million dollar interview with him. An interview that would make you millions and gain the same amount of notoriety, and even then you decided to betray him.
“Y/N and I are soulmates, you know?”  Jungkook had spoken to the nurse while he drove down the dark road, bright headlights beaming. “You don’t think I’m wrong, right? I have the right to be upset with her.”
Jungkook takes a step closer to you. Your sleeping figure lays on your right side, an arm underneath your head. 
“No…”
“Don’t just say that because you’re scared.” Jungkook groans with a roll of his eyes. “I gave Y/N everything! She betrayed me. She…she left me. After she promised she wouldn’t!”
Only half of your body is beneath the comforter, a trait you had once in a deep sleep. Your arms are exposed. With his tattooed hand, Jungkook, ever so gently, traces up your arms. He lightly taps, tilting his head as you stir a bit, but don’t quite wake up.
You hum audibly, your body causing a shiver to run up your spine and throughout your entire body. You feel the skin on your arm raise, your eyes not yet opening.
“Ji…min…?” you murmur, feeling light taps onto your arm. You’re unsure why you spoke Jimin’s name first, as he would not have entered your home unannounced; even if you had given him the key.
Your eyes slowly open, the white noise in the background finally reaching your ears once more as you begin to regain consciousness. Your eyes blink a few times to focus on the figure before you, your room not completely dark as you once enjoyed it to be in the past.
“You’re awake.” Your body stiffens while your heartbeat begins to quicken. That familiar voice startles you, causing you to go into complete shock.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Jungkook begins to chuckle, pulling his hand away from your arm as he watches you in complete amusement.
Your body suddenly jolts yourself away from the man as if he burned you. Your body falls completely off of your bed and it’s harder to see him now, but you cannot bring yourself to care right now. You’re in fight or flight mode - and there was no way you could fight Jungkook.
Your mind had to be playing tricks upon you, as Jungkook was locked away for life. There was no reason whatsoever for him to be out and before you. This had to be a dream; a nightmare. You were still asleep and desperately needed to wake up.
“You’re afraid.” 
Jungkook’s voice is closer, as are his footsteps increasing towards you. 
“N-No…!”
You try to crawl away, but there’s a sudden hold onto your ankle that drags you back.
You release a sudden scream that comes deep within your throat, your mind now screaming along with you that this was real. Jungkook was actually here - right in your home.
“Stop acting like that.”
Jungkook, no matter how amusing he finds you to be, is growing irritated with your actions.
“I’ve never hurt you before. You don’t have a reason to be frightened!”
You’re pushed onto your back harshly, Jungkook above you. His face is too close for comfort and instantly, you turn yours away.
“I gave you everything…” 
Jungkook’s tone lowers from his loud, abrasive one. He lowers it now, talking directly to you instead of at you.
Jungkook's voice sounds…hurt.
“I gave you everything…and yet you betray me.” Jungkooks teeth grits. “I gave you a fucking platform to exploit me and the victims you pretend to care about.”
“You didn’t give me anything.” you find your own voice to speak. It’s low compared to his, and lacking any confidence.
“No…?” Jungkook scoffs in near disbelief. “No!” he then screams, echoing off of your wall. “You’d be nothing but a bitch on the sidelines if it wasn’t for me!”
Jungkook pushes you away, your head hitting the tiled ground abruptly.
“Reporter Lee would’ve taken all of your shine! You stupid,” Jungkook places two fingers, index and middle, onto your cheek and pokes you as if you’re a child. “stupid, stupid girl! I’m the one that allowed you to make millions off of my story!”
Your cheek begins to throb with how rough Jungkook was being. You squirm beneath him.
“And for what? For you to betray me?” Jungkook laughs bitterly. “I never spoke to anyone else. I’ve kept quiet this entire time!” he hisses. “I was loyal to you and you betrayed me.”
Jungkook pushes himself away from you. He needed to relax himself before he did something he’d regret. He inhales deeply before exhaling, counting to ten in his mind.
You raise a shaky hand to your cheek and hold it a bit, your eyes swelling with tears. You let out a shaky breath after a few moments.
“Am I not good enough for you?”
You knit your brows at Jungkook’s words, your tears now falling. You want to run as far as you can go, but you're paralyzed to your bedroom floor. 
“I would’ve stayed in prison if you would’ve come back.”
You hear shuffling.
“I wouldn’t have murdered the doctor or security guard.”
Your heart begins to pound even louder as he admits to murder. Your mind is racing with countless questions that you have. How had Jungkook escaped? How many people has he slain just to get to you? Did he work alone?
“I wouldn’t have kidnapped that naive nurse and-” Jungkook stops speaking abruptly just as you feel your nightgown being tugged harshly, yanking you up from your fetal position. “-I wouldn’t be here.”
Your tears fall down your cheeks as you squeeze them shut, an attempt to rid yourself of Jungkook. You recall doing this at any given situation when you were a child; rid yourself of the boogeyman.
“What have I done to you personally Y/N?” Jungkook questions, grasping your jaw between his fingers to force you to look at him. “Look at me. Answer my question.”
Your eyes blink open, more tears pooling out almost instantly. You shake your head to get away from Jungkook, your mouth parting open to release a few whimpers.
“I never hurt you, didn’t I? I never hurt anyone you love.” Jungkook shakes you slightly, as if to get right through you. “I allowed you to live a good life, right? I gave you a story and you ran with it. Look at where you live!”
“Please stop.” you cry out. “You can’t be here, Jungkook-”
“You’re right.” 
Jungkook doesn’t move, deeply inhaling. 
“You can’t be here, either. Get up.”
You’re stunned for a moment, swallow that thick lump in your throat as Jungkook gets onto his feet. 
“I said get up.” Jungkook grits as though he’s speaking to a child. “Grab some clothes.”
You shake your head ever so slowly,  your eyes widening. “I’m not leaving with you, Jungkook.” you whisper out. “You need help…”
Your hands are shaking as you lift them up, reaching for him. 
“Y-You need help and…I can’t go with you to-”
“The only way I’m leaving without you is if you’re dead.” Jungkook deadpans.
The crazed look in Jungkook’s eyes frightens you to your core, your hand immediately falling to your lap as another single tear drops from your eye.
“I don’t want to kill you, Y/N. You and I,” Jungkook points to himself then to you. “were meant to be together. For months I poisoned myself enough to get an infection. Dangerous enough that they had to transport me outside of the prison.”
Jungkook’s words cause you to gasp.
“I laid for who knows how long planning my escape and finally…finally I did it.” Jungkook’s lips curve upwards. There's no doubt that Jungkook is insane, a serial killer. Someone who could kill so easily and effortlessly without any remorse isn’t someone you wish to be with. His face is handsome, and you ponder just how someone like someone could be such a heinous individual.
“Get up. Grab some clothes and let’s go.” Jungkook murmurs. 
Your body feels heavy as you lift yourself to your feet. Jungkook’s beady eyes watch you, the dimness of your room adding a level of suspense that has your skin crawling.
You can’t go with Jungkook.
You can’t allow yourself to leave without a fight.
Your body acts on its own, turning around to sprint across your room to your bedroom door, prying it open and going down the hallway to wherever; as long as it was away from Jungkook.
Heavy footsteps follow behind you, but you cannot bring yourself to look behind you at the boogeyman hot on your trail.
The nurse is horrified, her own heart pounding when your screaming figure bursts through the living room. Her legs are up to her chest, seated upon your leather couch. She screams herself when your body collides with your glass coffee table. The forcefulness of it causes it to shatter.
Glass pierces into your skin. You feel the glass scrape across your skin as your ankles are being dragged backwards, your throat releasing the most bloodcurdling scream you’ve ever produced.
“Why don’t you listen, Y/N?!” Jungkook roars above you, his hands managing to stop your feet from kicking him. “Why do you force me to put my hands on you?!”
“D-Dont hurt her…!” the nurse cries, finally speaking up when Jungkook’s hands wrap around your neck, his body weight on top of yours. “...please, please…”
She’s unsure of what to do herself, her body completely paralyzed. She had followed Jungkook into your home with a guilty conscience and stayed out of pure fear, unsure of what to do.
Your lungs heave when air fills them again. You begin to cough. Jungkook releases your neck and pushes you away.
“Go in the room.” Jungkook says to the nurse. “Pack some of her clothes. Be quick. We’re leaving.”
The nurse, still paralyzed, looks between your heaving figure and Jungkook.
“Now!” Jungkook snaps.
It takes entirely too long for Jungkook’s liking. He didn’t enjoy manhandling you - he adores you. You, however, don’t listen. You never did so he cannot fully put you at fault. You were a stubborn woman and that’s what Jungkook loves about you. Even him, someone capable of harming you, you put up a fight against. Your courageousness excites him.
“W-Where…are we going?” the nurse asks after hours of driving. You had laid in the back of the car, fighting with nothing but will to keep yourself away. Jungkook had forced a pill into your mouth, obviously one of your sleeping pills he’s found in the cabinet. 
“We?” Jungkook asks, the sun slowly beginning to rise. “You can’t come with us.”
The nurse feels her heart jump.
“I’ll have to drop you off somewhere.” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes roaming around the lonely street. “A store. Gas station.”  he says. “I don’t expect you to not tell on me. But, by then…” He will be far gone.
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“You want to be a victim so bad, Y/N.”
Your heart races in your chest as you run as fast as your body could away from the man. It did you no justice. Your body ached, covered in bruises and scratch marks. You felt entirely too groggily, your head pounding and eyes wishing they could close to sleep.
“Look at you.” Jungkook tsk’s with a shake of his head when you stumble and crash right on your ass like he knew you would. Your will can only get you as far as your body was willing to go. “Come lay down-”
Your leg jerks and your foot sends a powerful kick his way - one he catches. Impatient hands wrap around your ankle and Jungkook drags you. You begin to scream, arms flailing around for something - anything - you can get your hands on. The hardwood floor creaks beneath you and Jungkook’s struggling.
You weren’t sure how long you had been out - but it was long enough to know that you were far from home and where you laid, you had no recollection of. Fear struck you like lightning as your mind replayed the events like a bad dream - and it was confirmed when you turned yourself over on the bed you laid in and saw him.
Jungkook is stronger than you, of course, and he wasn’t going to keep tolerating your bad behavior. His hands are quick in grabbing you by your shirt and yanking you up onto your feet. He’s entirely too rough for his own liking. He slams your body against the wall, him directly behind you. He hates having to show the side of him that he shows everyone else. He doesn’t want to show you the Beast of Busan, but you refused to accept Jungkook. “You must be hungry.”
“Let me go.”
“You’re going to try to run again.” Jungkook snorts. Both of your hands are behind your back and your cheek is against the cold wall. “Your wounds are still fresh.”
You let out a short breath. “Because of you…”
“I know.” Jungkook loosens his grip on your wrists, but he doesn’t remove his body from you. He didn’t want to keep chasing you. “I apologize, but what do you expect me to do? I gave you strict orders and you disobeyed me.”
You sniffle a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek and remain silent. There wasn’t a point in trying to flee or fight Jungkook - that would leave you in a terrible position once more. Your body aches while your stomach rumbles in hunger. You were exhausted even after being unconscious for who knows how long.
“How about we talk?”  you ask meekly after a few moments of unmoving silence. 
“Of course.” Jungkook says, pushing his body away from your own. Your body shivers on its own once his warmth is no longer radiating off of you. “I’ve cooked-”
“Jungkook, please.” you say, turning around to face the man. “You can’t…you can’t be here.”
Jungkook tilts his head a bit, a small grin on his lips. “Of course I can,” he responds. “we’re here aren’t we?”
You blink.
“You are supposed to be in prison.” you murmur softly. Maybe if you attempted to speak with him then this would be easier. “You know that, right?”
“Of course I know that, Y/N. I’m not an idiot.” Jungkook chuckles. You look away from his face. You always hated looking at Jungkook because of how handsome the man was. “It’s your fault we’re in this predicament in the first place. Take accountability.”
Anger shoots through you rabidly and you want to scream at him, but you don’t. Jungkook is calm now and that’s how you need him to be.
“You promised to visit me. You used me for content that was my idea and threw me aside like I meant nothing to you.”
Jungkook’s hand reaches for your face and your body flinches. There’s a cut right on your cheek that he wishes wasn’t there. It was caused by the impact of your coffee table. His thumb rubs along it gently and he sighs. “You talked about me as if I was the scum of the Earth in that interview, Y/N.” he says softly. “It hurts my feelings.”
You turn your head away to remove Jungkook’s hand from your cheek. “You’re a murderer, Jungkook.” you spat out. “You…”
“Yet you’re alive.” Jungkook quips, this time snatching your chin and forcing you to look at him. “So is that nurse. I’ve matured while incarcerated, Y/N. I don’t kill unnecessarily anymore.” 
“What do you want, Jungkook?”
It’s a question that you’ve pondered the entire time, but was far too afraid to truly ask. How long had he been planning this? How far did he think this was going to go? Surely someone would realize that you were missing and connect the dots that you were either, A) missing alongside an escaped prisoner or B) dead due to the escaped prisoner.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Jungkook laughs a boyish laugh that would be cute if it was anyone else besides him. Someone normal. “I want you, Y/N.”
A few silent seconds go by.
“You can’t have me, Jungkook.” you try to say as softly and monotone-like as possible to not set him off. “You…know that. We need to get you back to-”
Jungkook’s nails dig into your skin and you gasp at how suddenly his mood changes. Your head is shoved right back into the wall and your eyes widen as the innocent smile wipes from his lips.
“I could kill you right now and no one will know where you’re at Y/N.”
Jungkook’s words cause you to stiffen right in his grasp. Your heart races in your chest so fast that it’s concerning.
“I can kill both of us.” Jungkook shrugs. “Would you like that? You acted so holier than thou in that interview. I can see the headlines now about how your heroic sacrifice stopped the Beast of Busan.”
Hands grip at your through and you immediately let out a whimper. Jungkook hadn’t attempted to squeeze in the slightest, only touched, but it was enough for you to cower. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”
Once more, Jungkook’s demeanor changes. His forehead places itself onto yours. 
“Why can’t you just listen to me?” Jungkook asks, his voice eerily soft. “I’ve fought so hard to get us here. We have a house and our own land. We have food and…” he trails off.
You don’t speak. Neither does Jungkook.
You stand there for what appears to be hours. You had to get your heart under control and you didn’t want Jungkook’s mood to change for the worse. However, you had questions that you needed answered before your head exploded.
“Where are we?”
Jungkook’s ear perked at your sudden voice. He lifts his head to look at you, tilting it a bit.
“Far from Busan.” Jungkook answers. “You won’t find your way around here even if you’ve tried, Y/N. I’d advise you not to leave the house without me.”
Fear sores through you once more and you swallow thickly. The look in Jungkook’s eyes is completely insane.
“Did you…kill someone for this home?”
Jungkook shakes his head,  doe-like eyes widening. “Of course not. I wouldn’t have us live on tainted land, Y/N.” he says with a chuckle. “It belongs to a friend.”
You wanted to ask how a serial killer had friends, yet refrain. Jungkook had followers. He had people who would send him countless letters - women who adored him and men who idolized him. It was terrible to think that someone who had no remorse for the crimes he committed could be put on a pedestal. As if he was some sort of God.
“How long do you expect for this to go on, Jungkook?” 
There was no way this was going to last long. Someone would come looking - or maybe it was something you were hoping for.
Jungkook grins once more. He wouldn’t tell you - not now at least - that there were options he was considering. For one, he could do this forever. Jump from countryside to countryside with you by his side with the help of his friends (or followers - whatever you wanted to call them). Or, he could do what he feels would be a bit more effective. Drag you alongside him until he decides he was done. 
That could be a week from now - or five years. Who truly knows?
“You hate me, Y/N.” Jungkook states. “That look in your eyes…pure disgust. But, it’ll change.” he says, determined. “After all, only you will know the real me. Jeon Jungkook.” he murmurs his name. “Not the Beast of Busan with blood on his hands. Now, let’s eat.”
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Jungkook was correct - the house remained right in the middle of nowhere. Tall trees surround the entirety of the home that appeared to lead to nowhere. The sight appeared to be right out of a horror movie - especially at night. You refused to look outside as the dark often frightened you, an ironic feeling seeing as your nightmares remained right in the house with you.
Jungkook is many things.
A monster.
A murderer.
A psycho.
Jungkook is also an amazing cook. On your first few nights, you refused to eat. Not because you thought it would be poisoned. If Jungkook wanted you dead, poison would be the last thing on his mind. But simply because you wanted to defy him.
That, however, didn’t last long. As much as Jungkook adored you, if you wanted to be stubborn he was going to let you learn the hard way. On the fifth day, you gave up and ate the food, your tastebuds dancing. 
Jungkook is also surprisingly clean. He cleaned the home often - dusting and mopping occasionally. He washed yours and his clothing that always left a fresh linen scent on it that drove you crazy by how well it smelt. 
Jungkook, as you learned, was even a good singer. That act surprised you. He took up singing whenever he was busy cooking or cleaning. The melodic tune in his voice had drawn you in as if he was a siren or bard. It even angered you that you enjoyed the sound of his voice because this wasn’t normal. Serial killers didn’t sound like this.
Jeon Jungkook did, however.
Your eyes begin to flutter open and it’s right now you realize just how your body is.
That, and the obvious arm around your waist keeping you close.
You counted everyday you’ve been alongside Jungkook and each day you attempted a little harder to leave - all of which had failed. The first week was when Jungkook slept alongside you and since then, had not bothered to sleep elsewhere. You never went to sleep in his arms but somehow always woke up in them.
“Morning.”
You don’t move, swallowing a bit. 
Jungkook snuggles against you and inhales your scent - something he enjoys doing. You smell of lavender and vanilla and it’s a scent that he finds calming.
“Hey.” you say back quietly. You begin to squirm in his embrace. You didn’t want to be in Jungkook’s arms, a sullen feeling going through you. Not because it made you uncomfortable like you wanted it to. But because you found that his warm embrace was inviting. His own scent calmed you at times and his arms made you feel welcomed. Feelings that shouldn’t be associated with a murderer - you didn’t want to confide in Jungkook. You didn’t want to enjoy him in the slightest.
“You smell nice.”
You attempt to move away from Jungkook once more, but like before he holds you even tighter. Your back is against his chest and his arms tightens. 
“Why do you keep trying to get away from me?”
Jungkook’s breath tickles against your neck and it causes your skin to prickle with goosebumps.
“We shouldn’t be in this position.”
Jungkook hums. “Why not?”
Why not? Did you have to remind him that his actions are far from sane? Breaking out of prison, taking a nurse and you hostage and murdering whoever needed to be along the way. You lived in the middle of nowhere; who knows how far away from Busan you were. 
“We’re not…” Jungkook’s mood swings were unpredictable at times, but you managed to keep it going. If you did what he said, you would hope eventually he’d find the right mind to allow you to leave - even if it meant that he would keep running from the law. “...I need to go back home, Jungkook. I can’t stay here forever.”
Slow and steady, you think. Don’t be too forward or he might snap.
“Why would you go anywhere?” Jungkook’s lips are soft when they rub against you. Once more, you stiffen. You feel him against you, his bulge right against your own ass and you want to scream. “Don’t you like it here?”
No, you think. “I do.” you murmur, a bit of a lie. The home itself was beautiful and the entire land around you was a sight to see. However, not with Jungkook. “I just…have a life back in Busan.”
“Most people hate you and I.”
Jungkook’s words are blunt. His arm loosens around you so that his hand, as bold as his hips, places right on top of your clothed breast. The shirt you wore was the only coverage you had for him to not cop a complete feel.
“For every five people that like you, there’s 10 that also hate you.” Jungkook continues cooly. “Most of them are happy you’re gone. Why go back to them?”
Jungkook’s words sting and you understood it was because it was true. You did have a handful of people that despise you just because of Jungkook. You’ve read articles, against Jimin’s judgement, and saw just how many people hated you because of you choosing to platform Jungkook. Even if you did give his victims a story to tell and donate a massive amount of money to said victims' families, you were still looked at as less than.
It didn’t help that out of all the reporters, you were left alive. Theories were going around that you and Jungkook were something more - and that was the last thing you wanted to be true.
“You have a home over your head. Food, necessities, clothing.” Jungkook continues. “The air is fresher here than in Busan, too. You know that, right?” he continues, his palm lightly squeezing your breast over your shirt. You yelp to yourself at the sudden action. 
“Jungkook-”
Jungkook ruts his hips once more, squeezing your breast again. You can hear his breathing increasing from behind you.
“You don’t like being with me is what you’re saying?”
Jungkook snakes his hand beneath your shirt. It causes you to jolt a bit when his hand touches against your bare skin. It slides up the curve of your hip before sliding past your stomach.
“Are you still afraid of me, Y/N?”
Jungkook’s fingers tap against your skin teasingly. His voice appears deeper, more huskier, when he speaks. His hips rock against you, the bulge growing even harder when his hand touches your bare breast. 
“Yes.” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re afraid of me?” Jungkook repeats, his large palm squeezing your breast while your mind screams at you to fight him. To push him away in purse disgust - to remind yourself that this was a murderer. A cold blooded killer who took you away from your home. “I haven’t hurt you. Has your time with me been that bad?”
Jungkook doesn’t let the moan you let out go past his ears. His thumb and index finger pinches your nipple lightly, his lips pressing on the nape of your neck.
“P-Please stop.”
Jungkook doesn’t listen to you. The way your ass feels against him is euphoric. He’s waited to be able to touch you like this - to feel your breast in his palm. To smell the scent on your skin and those soft moans coming from your lips.
Maybe it was also the way you didn’t fight him like you had from the beginning.
“Do you not feel good?”
Jungkook is quick, removing his hand from your breast to grip your neck gently. He turns your head so that you’re facing him. He’s now hovering a bit above you, his dark eyes looking right through yours.
“It does.” Jungkook states, voice a whisper. “I see the look in your eye.”
Your mind continues to scream for you to move, but your body remains perfectly still.
Where would you go if you fought him?
How far would you be able to go before Jungkook dragged you back?
“It’s okay to…like me.” Jungkook disclosed. He licks his lips, pink tongue coating his lips in such a suave matter. “It’s okay to like how I make you feel.”
You had to swallow so you wouldn’t choke. Your heart is already pounding on your chest and you’re positive Jungkook can hear it.
“You’re not a good person.” you mumble, blinking a bit. “You’ve killed people.”
Jungkook’s thumb gently rubs along your chin. Slowly, his lips form a low grin - an arrogant one. “I never said I was a good person,” he responds. “But…you've never seen that side of me, have you?”
Damn him, you think. You didn’t need to see that side for you to know, yet you felt betrayed. What your mind is warning you, your body is betraying.
Jungkook leans down a bit, his nose lightly rubbing against yours. The action is far too intimate for your liking. 
“I promised you’d never see that side of me. If you were truly scared, Y/N, why haven’t you pushed me away yet.”
Jungkook could read you. You may have a bit of hesitance towards him as that was your right. Yet, you didn’t fight him like you did initially. You listened to him now. You ate alongside him. You allowed him to hold you at night.
“It’s because you like what I do, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs and without hesitance, presses his lips against yours. A jolt of electricity flows through you at the kiss.
Jungkook deepens the kiss, his hand roaming down inside of your shirt once more so he could grip  your breast. He rubs it in his palm, his hips continuing to rut against you.
“You,” Jungkook breaks the kiss, his tone a mere growl. “want me to touch you like this. You’ll never admit it to me or yourself.”
Jungkook is a bit rough, but not enough to cause any true fear throughout you. You’re on your back, shirt pulled up to your neck and your breast is on display for Jungkook. He hovers above you, caging you in between his legs. 
Jungkook’s hands hook in your shorts, eyes flickering up to watch you. You don’t stop him so he proceeds to pull them down. Your panties are a solid grey cotton material. It doesn’t pass his eyes that there’s a bit of moisture right at the center of your legs.
“You sure you don’t like my touch?” Jungkook ponders aloud, his hand placing itself onto your abdomen while his thumb presses against your clothed clit. 
Your body jolts at the sensation and you bite the inside of your cheek.
“You’re very beautiful, Y/N.”
Jungkook leans down and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss your lips like before. Instead, he goes right to your breast. His tongue pokes out to lick along your nipple and immediately, it hardens.
Your mouth falls open and gasps. Your eyes widen a bit. His thumb continues to rub along your clit while he begins to suck and lit on your nipple.
“J-Jungkook-”
Possibly it was the sound of your voice saying his name that causes Jungkook to groan, his mouth wrapping your nipple entirely. There was hesitance laced in it, but yet you didn’t push him away. You hadn’t told him to stop. You were going through an internal battle of mind v.s. body and as of right now, your body was winning.
Jungkook sucks out your nipple with a pop and goes onto the next breast. His thumb increases it past, the moisture seeping through so much so that he can feel it dampen the pads of his thumb. 
Your hands grip the sheets beneath you and you squeeze your eyes shut to get the image of Jungkook ravishing your breast of your mind. It follows you, however, as his slurping doesn’t make anything easier for you. 
“I can be good for you, Y/N.”
Jungkook's teeth grazes your nipples gently and it takes everything in you not to groan.
“I can make you feel good. I know you want it.” Jungkook’s tongue licks from your breast to between them, going a bit lower until he reaches your stomach. “What are you afraid of?”
The question had to be rhetorical. The answer was right there.
Jungkook was a psycho. A murderer. He was capable of hurting you with his bare hands without as much as caring.
And even then, your body wants Jungkook to continue what he has already begun. Your skin is warm and whatever hair you had on you was rising. Your chest heaves and you cannot deny the sensation between your legs he’s causing you, either.
“W-We can’t-”
Jungkook doesn’t care. He’s tugging off your panties and dips between your legs. His teeth bite right on your inner thigh, an act of possession that catches you off guard. You don’t have time to react before his lips are on your clit. 
Your back arches fully now and Jungkook holds your legs apart to keep you in place. His head bobs back and forth, his tongue flat as he works it between your folds. He’s slurping and grunting like a starved animal.
Your eyes snap shut once more, no longer able to contain the breathy moans that come out of you. Your fingers continue to grip the sheets tightly - so tight that you think if you continue, it’ll rip right in the palms of your hands.
Your taste is sweet and Jungkook doesn’t want to stop. It feels like a dream to have you before him, submitting fully. The countless days he thought about having your pussy on his face. As you interviewed him, he pondered about slamming you against the metal table and having his way with you. He calculated that if he did, how long it’d be until the guards got you off of him.
Such melodic moans coming through his ears that Jungkook knows you wouldn’t have fought him for long. You adored his hands on you just as much as you revered the way his tongue works through your folds. 
It takes every fiber in Jungkook’s body to remove himself from your pussy and he licks his lips to regain the flavor of your arousal. His eyes are completely dark and blown and it only meant there was no stopping him now.
“I’ve waited to taste you for so long, my love. You have no idea.”
“Jung…kook,”
You are silenced when Jungkook enters his fingers in you. He coats them with saliva before he does and doesn’t waste valuable time before he’s thrusting them inside of you. Your breathing hitches and the lewd sensation is entirely too pleasurable.
“Stop!” you hiss out, your walls clenching around his fingers. 
“You don’t want me to stop, my love. You’re leaking all over me.” Jungkook chuckles darkly, going down to flicker his tongue onto your sensitive clit. 
You couldn’t give it to what your body wants, you think. You wouldn’t allow Jungkook to have control over the one thing you had left. Your body was all you had, and even now he was taking that from you.
Jungkook’s eyes watch your face contort with pleasure, the corners of your eyes swelling with tears of pleasure. His tongue continues to lap against your throbbing clit, fingers pounding deeper and deeper.
It takes everything in you, but you manage. You land a single punch to Jungkook’s head with all the strength you could muster.
Your mind is taking over now and when Jungkook stumbles away from you, you take it upon yourself to get out. Adrenaline runs through you as you run out of the room. You weren’t wearing anything but your shirt, but you couldn’t stop. It’s morning, the sun just beginning to shine throughout the home. 
Your feet slam against the hardwood floor and it creeks underneath your feet. You hear heavier footsteps right behind you, but you don’t dare look back. It’s uncomfortable to run with arousal dripping down your thighs, but you had no time.
Your hands wrap around the doorknob to the front door and you slam it open. There had to be something just behind these trees that you-
A scream bursts through your lungs. Your hands immediately go towards your hair as you’re being yanked back just as your feet meet the grassy texture.
You’re unable to catch yourself when you’re slammed backwards towards the concert steps of the home. Your naked body scratches against it and you immediately wince. 
“Why don’t you listen?!” 
Jungkook roars in your face, veins pulsing in his neck. It’s the angriest you’ve ever seen of him.
“You don’t want me to treat you with respect.” Jungkook hisses, grasping your shoulders harshly and forcing you to turn around. Your face is against the concrete. “You want me to disrespect you.”
Embarrassment flows through you when a hand harshly slams against your ass. It stings, sending shock waves throughout your entire body.
“Why can’t you just listen to me, Y/N?” Jungkook is pissed, striking you on the ass again. He shouldn’t have to do this to you. You were choosing to be difficult and in return, he had to punish you. 
Jungkook yanks your hair back and your body swings upwards and your back hits against his chest. The morning air is cool and it flows through your shirt.
“Luckily there’s no one around.” Jungkook murmurs. “Public indecency.”
Your cheek stings, throbbing with a possible scrape. 
“Is being here with me that horrible?” Jungkook questions, his grip on your hair tightening. There’s something in his voice - hurt? Was he upset at the thought of you not wanting to be around a murderer as if it shouldn’t be obvious. You were taken against your will. It isn’t as though he hadn’t forced you out of your home while unconscious.
“You don’t know how hard I’m trying.” Jungkook’s grits out. “It’s like you don’t give a damn about my hard work.”
Jungkook pushes you away. He doesn’t do it as rough as you would expect him to. His chest is rising and falling as he attempts to control his breathing and anger towards you.
You don’t want to look at Jungkook, afraid that if you do he would attack. Your body is trembling, the cool morning air not feeling the least bit good against naked skin. You wanted to curl up into a ball and be left alone.
“Get up. We’re going back in.” Jungkook takes a few moments. “You’re going to get yourself sick. How far did you think you were going to go without any clothing, Y/N?”
Adrenaline flows through you once more. When you feel Jungkook’s arms on your elbow, you swing your closed fist back and strike the man, unknowingly right in the face.
Jungkook stumbles back a bit at the impact, his right eye throbbing. You turn and face Jungkook finally, your eyes watching as he lets out a few swear words.
You, however, don’t move. You had little flight in you. Jungkook was right. You weren’t going to make it far naked and there was no way in hell he was going to let you out of his sight now that he knows you’re just going to attempt to run. 
“You’re getting bold.” Jungkook murmurs, blinking a few times to regain the sight in his eye. 
You go to attack Jungkook again, anger flowing through you. You send punches his way, majority of them he dodges or catches with his own hands. Some land on him - his neck, chest and shoulders. 
It upsets you after a few moments that Jungkook doesn’t appear as angry as before. His eyes remain dark and his face is nearly stoic, but you notice his anger subsided.
It upsets you even further. Your fingers dig into his own hair, yanking it until he falls right on top of you.
“Enough!” Jungkook hisses, pushing your body deeper against the cold and hard cement. He manages to grab hold of your arms. “You aren’t going to be satisfied until I actually hurt you.”
“You already did.” you hiss back, chest heaving.
“You’re still breathing, aren’t you?” Jungkook forces your hands down and it scraps against the ground. “I would’ve gutted you if you were anyone else!”
You are completely still beneath him, his yell echoing off of the tall trees. 
“I wanted it to come naturally, Y/N. But if you won’t comply, I’ll just force the submission out of you.” Before you could blink, Jungkook is forcing you up onto your feet. He drags you inside the home and slams the door shut behind him. He pushes you away from him and you stumble. Quickly, you swirl around to face him.
“Pick your choice, Y/N. You’re either going to listen to me or not.”
You inhale deeply.
You’re unsure what has gotten through you. Maybe it’s because Jungkook, in a way, has been lenient with you. This was a man who’s killed far too many people to count, and yet he’s allowing you to defy him until you’ve given him the answer he wants. What he’s done to you is child’s play as you understood what he’s truly capable of.
“Fuck you, Jungkook.” you hiss low, voice fully of venom.
Jungkook tilts his head a bit, watching you. 
“You’re going to have to kill me.”
“I would never.” Jungkook retorts with a scoff. “What’s gotten through to you? This self righteous act you’re portraying is cute.”
Jungkook begins to smirk as if you were a joke and it causes anger to seep through you. Without much thought, your sprint towards him once more. You attack him, punching and scratching at him like an animal. The flashes of how frightened you were of him while incarcerated go through you. The long nights of staying up because you knew people were watching you. The bloodied roses and disgusting letters all at the hands of him.
Jungkook doesn’t put up much of a fight, allowing you to attack him for nearly five minutes until he thinks you have enough. He wraps you in a tight embrace to stop your attacks. The nearest area is the living room and he throws your body right onto the loveseat. You squirm in his embrace but Jungkook doesn’t let up. “You’re so cute when you’re angry, baby.” he murmurs against the skin of your neck. “Your attacks don’t hurt me.”
Jungkook presses himself against you. “If anything, it excites me.” he murmurs right in your ear, assuring that he shows you just how excited he was. His bulge sits right on your clit, twitching with excitement. “You want to make things harder then so be it. I’m a patient man."
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pick your ending...
one | two
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poorrichardjr · 17 days ago
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The Banana Republic
In 1977 the Republicans in Congress forced then president Jimmy Carter to sell his families peanut farm because they feared that some entity would use it to funnel money to the president. Well, not really, but it was a justifiable concern. Carter, did the right thing and sold it because he didn't want to give even the appearance of impropriety. The country had just come off of the Nixon scandals and Ford's unsolicited pardon to "heal" the country.
In 2016, a new president decided differently. Instead of divesting in his businesses or at least putting them in a blind trust where he wouldn't have undo influence on their profits, Trump decided to hand off his businesses to his sons, but did not take himself out of the loop. In fact, it is more than speculated that a few foreign nations and local oligarchs paid Trump, his businesses, or his hotels large amounts of money to "influence" him. There were halted investigations that proved that foreign nations paid Trump in various ways to get what they wanted.
This is the sort of thing that goes on in corrupt nations, and sadly, America is just as corrupt as any Eastern European nation during the reign of Communist Russia. Tomorrow, Trump is getting back into office, but this time he isn't just content to get millions of dollars from foreign nations through his hotels, or tax funded trips to Saudi Arabia or Davos. Nope, now he has a new con, and a much better way to hide the vast amounts of money nations like China or Russia will be willing to pay him just to get what they want.
Cryptocurrency is a godsend for someone like Trump. Anyone from anywhere can buy into it, but it doesn't really exist. It's like money for nothing. Except it isn't going to be nothing. We aren't going to be able to monitor who buys this illusionary currency put out by Donald Trump, and it is absolutely guaranteed that someone in Trump's orbit is going to suggest to all those entities who have business in America exactly what they have to do to get what they want. It's just modern day bribery in the Banana Republic of America.
President's often got out of office with major debts they had to repay. That didn't happen to Trump last time, and it's absolutely guaranteed that it isn't going to happen this time. The man doesn't know anything about running the country, but he sure knows how to pull off a con, often badly. A lot of very bad things are going to happen to this country. After all, a man who's only concern is how much money he can make, doesn't have the countries interests at heart.
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sigilcatt · 7 months ago
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your recent seb fic was so cute!! could i request some general sebastian dating headcanons :3?
☆ Sebastian dating hcs ☆
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• The fact that you managed to get him as a boyfriend is a win in itself.
• I mean, at first you figured Sebastian hated you, considering the way he would constantly taunt you for your errors, blaming any failure on your incompetence followed by a snarky remark.
"I'm sure the door with breathing behind it is completely safe to open...Urbanshade must be very lucky they have you."
• But despite this, one thing lead to another aaaand now you're dating a 10ft sea monster! Lucky you!
• How did he even fall for you? His guess is as good as yours.
• He lets you stay in his shop as long as you'd like. Tired? Use his tail as a pillow and he'll gently wrap it around you, as if trying to shield you from the creatures outside.
• sometimes you don't even realize you've fallen asleep on him until you wake up to him glossing over a file before smiling down at you. "Sleep well?"
• He'll listen to you rant about whatevers on your mind, a few "Mhm"s and "Really now?"s being his only responses. It's not that he isn't listening, he just finds your rambling endearing and prefers to watch your face practically glow when talking about your interests.
• Petnames aren't too special- He'll randomly throw a "Hun" or "Sweetheart" your way when conversing. I dunno, he just seems like the type to prefer those.
• Prepare to be picked up and placed on his shoulder at least once when around him. He hardly ever gets to be eye-level with you due to the significant height difference, so randomly snatching you up without warning is his best way of doing so.
• He tries to be as gentle as possible, knowing his claws could easily hurt you. Sometimes he'll run a single claw softly down your back. Or maybe he'll use it as a gentle hook to pull you close to him.
• Don't expect the constant teasing and banter to end so soon-in fact, now that you're dating, it seems to have only intensified. But thats a mutual thing between the two of you.
"Give me that flashlight, I need it."
"Ask nicely, then maybe I will."
"Fuck you."
• Blind him with that flashlight of yours if he gets on your nerves, that usually shuts him up.
• But he does secretly get concerned when you leave the shop. He doesn't enjoy the lingering possibility that you could get hurt.
• He might even use a few excuses to get you to stay longer.
"You don't have to work yourself so hard, y'know."
"That crystal isn't going anywhere, why are you rushing?"
"Take your time, hun."
• If you do return to him looking insanely beat up and in desperate need of a medkit, he'll scold you out of concern.
• He can be a huge flirt, loving the reactions he can fish (ha, fish get it?? I'll shut up now.) out of you.
• More about that height difference, since I love that way too much:
• Sometimes you'll find that one particular item you need just out of reach so that you have to ask Sebastian for help.
• It's possible to get him a little flustered, too! Call him pretty/handsome/whatever, that'll do it.
"Yeah, yeah, you're cute. Quit looking at me like that."
• Overall perfect partner.
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I'm sooo normal about him. Hahahah lollll *twirls hair* I'm so normal about this guy
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madhattervanessa · 29 days ago
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Care
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Summary: A bad day.
Warnings: uhm, depression naps, loss and regaining of appetite, excessive sleeping, Simon lets himself in, fluff
Words: 1169
A/N: This is very self-indulgent but I felt like posting it anyways. Sending love to anyone who can relate.
Requests are open as always.
Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist
-
You let your water glass clink against the sink and move back towards the sofa. The morning sun is barely peeking through the curtains but you feel tired.
The walking pad you had gotten remains unused as you lie down.
Everything hurts. There are days like this, where it just does and a bone-deep tiredness just blinds you, pulling you to sleep, even though you had already slept for 10 hours.
It’s no use trying to resist.
So you sleep, again, curled up on the couch under your blanket.
It’s already enough that you don’t go to work but when Simon texts you, asking where you are, it makes you hide underneath the blanket even more.
You don’t want to bother anyone with your sudden, overwhelming sadness, is what you text back. You really don’t.
Another text.
You ignore it.
When you wake up again, it’s well into the afternoon, almost approaching evening.
At least you feel comfortable now, still tired and sad, but comfortable.
The creak of your front door makes you freeze, going completely stiff, as the door falls back into its lock.
The heavy footsteps are familiar and you tug your blanket away from your face just in time to see Simon appearing in the kitchen.
He doesn’t say anything, just stands in the door frame for a moment.
He approaches with care. It's like you can feel his heavy gaze on you as he rounds the couch and comes to another halt right in front of you.
And then he produces a paper bag and puts down a steaming paper cup (a little cardboard sleeve already wrapped around it), right in your eye sight, on the coffee table.
You furrow your brows and already feel tears gathering in your eyes. So you ruck the blankets a little higher. The dull sound of your water bottle hitting the wood of the table follows.
He puts the paper bag down, too.
Then, he just turns on his heel and leaves again, locking the door behind himself.
You fall into an uneasy slumber after that, but manage to take a few sips of the drink he had brought you, before hiding underneath the blanket again.
The next time the door opens, he locks it behind him.
The warm, savoury smell of food wafts through the air but this time, Simon’s footsteps are so quiet, you wouldn’t know he was inside if you hadn’t heard the lock turn, moving through your kitchen like a ghost.
You sigh and push your nose deeper into the cushions.
You jump when you feel Simon sitting down on the couch, already having nodded off again.
He wordlessly checks how full the water bottle and the paper cup are, before gently pushing them to your side and setting down the crinkly, white plastic bag in his hand. It clinks metallically as it hits the table and your eyes automatically follow the movement of his hands.
He unpacks a plethora of black boxes, some of them steaming, some seeming cold.
You recognize the packaging immediately- your favorite sushi place.
You can feel your mouth salivate a little, a sudden ache pulsing behind your eyes that reminds you that you had barely had breakfast before you had slept for another eternity.
He puts down two beers and one of those yuzu lemonades you like to get sometimes, before he eventually leans back. He glances at you before demonstratively patting the cushions, obviously searching for the remote.
You huff and carefully extend an arm out of your cocoon to reach for it. 
He hums when you give it to him.
When he opens his beer with one hand, you instantly realize that you desperately need to go pee.
Simon’s gaze follows you, as you get up and quickly retreat to the bathroom.
As soon as you are back, you stop in your tracks.
Simon has spread out all of the food on the table, containers opened.
Additionally, he has put a blanket on himself, his legs spread invitingly.
You chew on your lip and hesitate for a moment.
He wordlessly flips the blanket open and meets your eyes.
You keep chewing on your lip but you are cold and you know Simon is a walking heater. 
So you cave and crawl into the offered space.
Simon manhandles you until you are comfortably sitting back against his chest.
He is quick to positively swaddle you in the blanket, making sure to fold the edges down underneath your feet. On screen, a trashy dating show is already on, running on low volume.
He grabs one of the boxes and wordlessly deposits it on your lap. You quickly notice a second pair of chopsticks lie in the box as he starts to eat.
It takes him getting through just one of the takeout boxes for you to grab hold of the chopsticks and start getting into a few of the side dishes, before you eventually start picking out your favorites from the other boxes. Behind the armrest of the couch, Simon carefully collects them in another bag as soon as you are both done with them.
As the show goes on, you eventually come back to doing your little quips, commenting on who you think is a toxic asshole and how the women deserve better. Simon grunts his approval or murmurs something about those bloody idiots, while steadily making you eat up the rest of the food.
With your belly full and your mind busy with the trashy tv show, you don’t even notice the time passing. Simon keeps you warm, his hands constantly rubbing over your skin, petting at your waist, wrapping his arm over you, rubbing his cheek against your temple.
When the last episode finally wraps up, Simon turns you in his arms until you can nuzzle into his neck.
He lets his hand stroke over your back as you try your best not to let the weight of the day get to you again, the aching emptiness.
He just holds you, silently. Providing you with the steady up and down of his breathing and the blissful absence of any questions.
Eventually, his hand wanders up to gently wrap around the nape of your neck, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in slow circles over your scalp.
“D’you want me to stay over?”
You don’t answer.
You do, you desperately do, but this already feels like you have required too much of him. All of your thoughts are circling around being a burden, not even being able to open your fucking mouth-
“Tell you what”, he mutters, “‘m gonna watch a few episodes of a show I wanna see. Finish my beer. You just stay there and keep me warm and comfortable, yeah?”
You make a non-committal sound.
He switches on some sort of moody, crime focused show and keeps petting you. His thumb strays from your hair to your pulse every now and then, gently stroking over it, until your eyes eventually fall shut and you drift off.
-
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cripplecharacters · 9 months ago
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Does Your Scarred Character Have to Hate Themself?
[large text: Does Your Scarred Character Have to Hate Themself?]
(TLDR: No.)
A frequent topic that shows up around facial differences is the self-hatred, self-disgust, self-insert-negative-emotion that we must surely experience. I want to ask* writers without FDs - why? Why do you feel about us in such a way that that's the most common way of depicting us?
*- rhetorical question. I promise I know the answer, but I'm not sure if writers do.
It's frankly worrying to me. Is it really that common to assume that disabled people have this internal, never-ending hatred for themselves? The overwhelming majority of us don't. We hate inaccessibility, when people stare, or some symptoms when they get in the way, or how expensive being disabled is, but I find the concept of us being so completely disturbed by our own disabilities extremely strange. It’s “tragedy porn” intersecting “most basic ableism”.
“But trauma!”
[large text: “But trauma!”]
Trauma of what! People with facial differences don't have some sort of default trauma that we come with like it’s a factory setting. We are a group of people with tens of thousands of stories and experiences.
“Trauma of experiencing ableism/disfiguremisia” - that's better, at least this means something. If you're writing a story about this, please get a sensitivity reader with a facial difference. You can assume how we feel all you want, but in my experience these assumptions are often bizarre and unrealistic. Or just end up writing the same “disability so sad” sob story that everyone has seen a billion times. If you want to write about disfiguremisia, you need to understand the nuance and have more than just the basic level knowledge (which 99% of people don’t have either). If you can’t do that, don’t write about it. Simple as that.
“Trauma of the accident” - thankfully, the accident is an event and a facial difference is a disability. If you want to connect these two like they're one and the same, you're almost surely going to demonize disability. People with traumatic spinal cord injuries, acquired amputees, people with TBI, people with acquired facial differences - we participate in our communities, we have hobbies, we date, we play with our dogs. Disability isn't a death sentence. Media who make it feel like it is certainly don't help people who do suddenly become disabled, don't you think?
Here's a post by @blindbeta about blind characters becoming blind through trauma that’s better made than anything I could hope to write here. I heavily recommend giving it a read.
And, I can't stress this enough - most of us didn't have “the accident”, most of us are born like this. "Traumatic scars" isn't the only facial difference that exists, far from it, it's only one of thousands. It's 99% of our representation and "representation". If you want to make a character with FD - please consider that we aren't a monolith. Just like not all physical disabilities are "wheelchair user with paralysis and somehow no other symptoms", not all facial differences are "traumatic scar with somehow no nerve damage".
The overrepresentation of it is incredibly telling, and sometimes - or very frequently - feels like the writer doesn’t actually even want to deal with us. They want to use our disability as a way to cheap drama, moral metaphors, tragic backstories. Not to represent us as living people who are much more similar to you than you apparently think.
Now, I do have enough awareness to know that that's a big part of the appeal. “Horrific Thing #2456 happens” and boom, instant drama. Of course, it's a reasonable response that they would hide their disability for years, avoid talking about it in any way, and magically change their personality to be mean and reclusive, or at least be constantly soooo sad about how much it sucks to be disabled, right?
Do I really need to say that having your character becoming disabled be the worst thing ever is ableism 101? We have been talking about this for so long at this point. Writing about the process of adapting to a specific disability is better left to people who have actual experience in it.
To give an example that will hopefully resonate more with Tumblr users, I will use the fact that I'm also gay. It's not perfect by any means but probably much more familiar territory.
Imagine, let's say, a character. He's gay. The story he's in is supposedly progressive, certainly not trying to be homophobic. The character has experienced an incident, maybe an act of aggression or a hate crime, that happened because he’s gay, which was traumatic. Happens IRL, sure. So of course the character starts hating being gay. He talks about how gross and disgusting it is, he never lets anyone know that he could be “one of them”, certainly not take a stance against homophobia. You can't mention him without mentioning the accident, they're seemingly fused together. No gay love, joy, even basic happiness, he would actually choose to be straight in a heartbeat if given the option to and complains that he can't. This is shown as a neutral, obvious thing that a gay man would do, no one comments on it. He stays like this the whole time, unless there’s a plot twist in the last 10 pages where the world is now magically perfect ("we fixed discrimination, yay!"). This is the only LGBT character in the story.
Keep in mind that there are people similar to this in real life, living with extreme internalized homophobia.
Reading comprehension quiz time: Is this, in your opinion, realistic and thoughtful representation? How does it feel when written by a cishet writer, versus a gay writer who is recalling his experiences? Do you think that it's reasonable for the majority of media representation to be like this, or very close to it? How would it affect younger gay people who might already be uncomfortable with being queer? Are gay men the target audience, or are they not even considered as a group of people who read books? Is this helping or damaging the general public's idea of how it is to be gay? Why or why not?
The Masterpiece
[large text: The Masterpiece]
From 13 to 19 of May, we are celebrating Face Equality week (what a coincidence!). It’s important to me in general - and I wish it was more important to abled people, but I digress - especially its theme for this year.
“My Face is a Masterpiece”
Great statement, it represents the community well, I do enjoy how bold it is. Very cool stuff, I love the work our advocates are doing.
But why do I bring this up?
Well, to very non-subtly show that we aren’t a self-hating group of people. We are a community, a community saying “our faces are beautiful, look!”, we are saying “treat us equally, and do it now!”. Our activism isn’t about self-disgust. It’s about fighting your-disgust. 
Why can’t writers keep up? Why are you still stuck decades behind?
Is this the only reason I bring it up?
The Call to Celebration
[large text: The Call to Celebration]
FEI, the org behind organizing it, asks a very simple question (emphasis mine):
“Why do we so often see stories about facial difference as a ‘tragedy’, when they should be about triumph?” “Calling all artists, allies, creatives, galleries.  You can rewrite the story to bring about #FaceEquality and celebrate the unique artistry found in every face. Your participation this #FaceEqualityWeek will help to tell the real story, that there is a masterpiece in every face.”
Here. We are calling for you to stop. Directly from the biggest international advocacy alliance group that's out there. If you create, this is for you.
The last argument to not have your character with a facial difference hate themselves? Because we don’t want this. We are tired and frustrated. For me personally, I’m also offended by this kind of assumption. We aren’t tragedies or cheap entertainment for abled people to pity or be horrified by. We are people, and if you can’t internalize that, you have no reason to write about us.
For once, celebrate us. Happy Face Equality Week!
mod Sasza
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silasours · 10 months ago
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ৎ⸝⸝⠀FAV POSITIONS ! —
#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. different intercourse positions. praise kink. edging. creampie. overstimulation. sub reader. really soft luci!! usage of 'doll' on alastor's part. #summary : their favorite positions to fuck you in bed !! or something. #note : if you're wondering where the male version of giving/receiving head is, it'll take longer to be posted than you might think :3 I currently do not have the spark to write for that idea.
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ʚ LUCIFER .
spooning / missionary position. lucifer prefers to hold you whole while fucking, it provides a sense of security and satisfaction to him at the very least. he would have his arms around your body almost throughout the whole session.
the bright, blinding sun peeps through the small gap between the curtains that covers the windows in your shared room. your fingers claw into the soft bed sheets, droopy eyes fighting to lift open considering how you woke up to lazy thrust of lucifer's hips.
it seems that the both of you almost instantly fell asleep after last night's intercourse while having him remain buried deep in you. it wasn't until when he woke up earlier than you did and felt a warm sensation he normally wouldn't feel that he realized that he slept through the night with his length nestled inside of you.
for some odd reason, that thought alone riled him up. he grunted after feeling his cock twitch inside of you, a shaky breath leaving his lips and hitting your skin. feeling his gaze falling onto your back that faced him, he slowly moved his hips, lips leaning in to press sloppy kisses from your shoulder to the back of your neck. he wanted to wake you up, to have you feel good along with him.
and that brings you to where you are now; body held closely against his, his lean arm wrapped around your waist as his forehead leans against your shoulder. he thrusts at a quicker pace compared to before, soft whines and groans spilling from his lips and so does yours.
every time your skin comes in contact with one another, a throaty moan would be drawn from you with your eyes closed tight. the fog in your head has yet to subside completely, and lucifer is already working to add in more haze to your mind. you feel him dragging deliciously along your walls, body still unable to adjust to the burning sensation at this time of the day.
"morning, baby," he whispers against your now flushed skin, a grin growing on his face when he hears you moan. you grasp onto the soft sheets tighter; him spooning you while fucking into you allows him to reach areas that he normally isn't able to. the feeling made your vision grow blurry, unable to focus on anything other than pleasure.
you moan his name weakly, words incomprehensive as they leave your mouth without giving them another thought. you hear lucifer mumbling about him reaching close to his climax, his grip on your hips tightens significantly as well as the pace of his trust. it merely took a couple more thrusts of his hips before he spilled his warm release inside of you, your body shaking as you climaxed along with him.
your breath is hot against the bed sheet, a strong wave of exhaustion hitting you like a ton of bricks. lucifer feels the same thing as you do, his upper body falling onto the bed with a soft thud as his elbow gives out. you feel him pull you in closer into his embrace, soft murmurs of sweet nothings into your neck as the both of you drift into yet another slumber for the day.
ʚ ALASTOR .
doggy style / leapfrog position. he likes watching you from above as he fucks you into a mindless, moaning mess. having a clear view of the effect he has on you is exactly what he aims for especially under activities like this, and this positions provides him just the thing he wants. i used doggy style here :3
you feel cold tentacles wrap around your thighs and push them further apart, legs threatening to give out with the hold of his tentacles being the sole support for your body. today is a day when alastor returns home frustrated; his red locks were slightly messed with splinters of hair poking out, brows furrowed on his forehead and his usual grin didn't seem as bright as they usually do.
you did not have much time to register his situation and ask him before getting lifted up by his tentacles, sharp coldness stings your skin where they wrap around. darkness surrounds the both of you before disappearing when you both appear in the bedroom that you share, your body being tossed onto the bed as the hold of his tentacles on your body remains.
despite being harsh and all, there's always a hint of softness in alastor's actions like vocally asking to make sure you're alright and not hurt occasionally. his clawed hands have a firm hold on your hips, his own snapping onto yours brutally to the point where the bed would creak ever so often. your eyes roll back until it's almost completely white, mouth hanging open as uncontrollable babbles roll off your tongue.
his eye twitches in excitement at the sight displayed below him, the sight of you taking him in so nicely drawing out a groan from his throat. slowly, another one of his many tentacles snakes from his back and plunges itself into your mouth through your parted lips, the dampness of your mouth already coating a layer onto it.
"look at you. such great performance from you, doll." praise falls through his gritted teeth while he thrusts into you, doing his best to contain his noises, avoiding being overly vocal. being less vocal makes him feel like he's more of the one in control, despite wanting to let them out so badly because of how good you feel.
you return with a muffled moan in response, walls clamping down on him while you choke on the tentacle that reaches the back of your throat. alastor's grin widens, allowing his tentacles to grip tighter around your thighs, and the other one curls in your mouth. hot tears slide down your face as you feel a strong release approach closer with each of his hard thrusts, a buzzing sound filling your ears along with a few words that he speaks.
the coil in your stomach snapped suddenly without allowing you to vocally warn him about it, your upper body giving out while your lower remains upright solely from the support of his hold. your body shakes intensely, face pressed far into the bed sheet; a spasming mess is what alastor would describe you as currently.
your consciousness was about to fade before your eyes snapped wide open once again, feeling a sudden stretch with a loud slap of your skin. he has not reached climax yet, so of course he's not done.
"will you be so obedient and allow me another round, hm? i have not achieved my goal yet, you see."
ʚ VOX .
mating press position. what can i say, he's absolutely smitten over how you look when he presses you down while fucking deep inside of you. he gets to hear you moan and ramble about how deep he's in, feeling your muscle tense in his hold whenever the tip of his cock kisses the spot inside of you. he's drunk on the feeling and view, always wanting more of it which results in multiple rounds until the both of you are overstimulated.
"doin' so good f' me," vox's voice is shaky along with a slight glitch, heavily hinting at the pleasure he's receiving. a streak of pink line connects from the corner of his mouth down to the frame of his screen, a wobbly grin plastered on his face.
his clawed fingers hold a firm grip on the back of your knees, pressing them onto your chest while simultaneously rocking his hips against yours. his gaze locks with the thick liquid that oozes out from you every time his cock fully pushes in, forcing the liquid out and rolling down your clammy skin. the demon moans at the sight, significantly increasing his pace and making you yelp in surprise.
you're fuzzy from overstimulation, barely able to comprehend simple sentences as they're all just a blur in your mind. your hands are folded onto your face, tears and saliva sprawled everywhere messily on your face with your knee occasionally hitting your cheeks. every time you'd mumble about how it's 'too much' or 'you can't go for any more rounds', vox would shut you up with a harsh slap on your thigh before resuming on fucking your pretty hole with a chuckle.
he's tired, too, from round after round of ejaculation. it feels like he has nothing more to offer, but god are you unresistible. he craves more of his name spilling out as pretty noises from your lips, craves for the warmth of your velvet walls engulfing his sore erection, craves for another satisfying sight of him filling you up with his seed all the way to the brim.
his eyes light up as an idea pops into him, his fingers gripping tighter onto your legs. the tip of them light up a bright color of blue before vanishing suddenly, a sudden shock of small electricity piercing through your skin from his fingers. your body jolts at the sudden unfamiliar sensation, a different kind of noise slipping from your tongue. your eyes are wide, gaze that met his in confusion and pleasure.
vox grins at your reaction; he loves it. it's obvious that you did, too, feeling how tight you squeezed around him when you felt the sudden electricity shock send through your veins. he leans forward, only increasing his thrusts as he readies to send yet another wave of electricity through his fingers. he found a brand new way to toy with you, to draw out pretty noises that he always get drunk on.
"you like that, huh? squeezing around me like that, s' like you're begging for more my love."
ʚ VALENTINO .
lotus / heatwave position. he either likes to see you struggle to pleasure him properly or fuck you over the kitchen counter or any high tables he has in his office. he finds it hot to limit your movements, watching you helplessly take in anything and everything he has to offer. i used heatwave pos. here :3
“fuck, val, c-can’t we do this in- hngh, bed?” you groan in frustration before getting cut off by a moan, a hand gripping tightly onto his arm and another on the corner of the countertop. your leg was thrown over valentino’s shoulder when he lifted you onto the counter top, giving him a perfect display of you for himself. he gave you a breathy laugh before he replied teasingly. “this is fun, no? It feels better than the bed.”
out of all places, he chose to do it at the countertop, the place where you can barely move around to avoid falling off. he only chuckled everytime you complained and whined, shutting you up with a thrust of his fingers inside of you. 
toying with you like this has always been his favorite. he knows exactly what and where to reach in you just to make your legs tremble and body shudder in pleasure, soft moans of his name that spills as you plead for more. he carries on providing pleasure to you until he feels the gummy walls around his fingers tighten, signaling a close approach of climax; he remove his fingers completely from you and deny your orgasm.
he watches you whine, trying to pull his hand back as you tighten around nothing out of desperation. valentino watches with a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning forward to bite on your earlobe while whispering. “hm, why don’t you tell me exactly why i should give you what you want?” he pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice sweet like honey cooing into your ear. “I’m waiting, carino~” 
you grunt, hating the cheekiness of his behavior yet desperate for a sweet release. giving in slightly, you glare at him with glistening eyes while running your mouth with sweet words in hopes of them being enough to convince him knowing how playful this man could get. he gazes down at you while holding your leg over his shoulder, lips grazing over your ankle as a ghosting kiss. he shows no response to your words, just doing whatever he was with half-lidded eyes.
just as you thought your attempt failed, you feel his sudden thrust into you, a spark of pain and pleasure shoots all the way to your head. your breath gets caught in your throat, a loud gasp leaving your lips, body freezing in place to adjust to the sudden stretch. valentino drinks in your reaction with a hungry gaze, earning a low grunt from him as he pulled his hips back slowly before thrusting forward again. excitement bubbles in his chest, his upper row of sharp teeth biting down on his lower lips.
he doesn’t waste another second on waiting and starts rolling his hips at a steady pace. he moans in great pleasure, both pairs of his arms hold you firmly to avoid you falling off. your face burns more than usual because of how exposed you feel being in this position, yet it also riles you up a whole lot. you already feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, begging to snap after multiple denies from your partner. 
valentino feels it, of course. instead of slowing down or completely moving himself, he increases the pace to the point where the tip of his cock is able to press on the sensitive spot inside of you. your chest heaves heavily with yet another gasp, gritting your teeth because of how much it triggers the coil in your stomach. your knuckles gradually turn white from how hard you’re gripping the demon, moaning at how close you are to your sweet release. 
everything came to a halt when he suddenly stopped his movements. he has denied your orgasm, again. you groan in frustration, hitting his chest with your fisted hands with a frown on your face. valentino snickers at your reaction, completely unfazed by your annoyance. he has all the time he needs to play with you, after all.
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© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.
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dahliakbs · 10 months ago
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Overprotective Batfam making sure you get home safely in their patrol route! (Part 2)
Includes: Jason Todd and Tim Drake
Part 1
Masterlist
Jason Todd
Unlike the others Jason wouldn't walk alongside you or keep to the shadows, instead when he first saw you on his route he slowed down his motorcycle and offered you a quick ride home.
But what you thought would be a quick ride home was instead turned into a wild night you'd never forget.
You could feel the wind hit your face like a bag bricks as Jason continuously revved the engine.
The goons you'd been chasing had mistakenly crossed your path on your ride home, coming out of nowhere with a bag of money strapped to the back of the vehicle and a goon stood to the left of it. Probably protecting what you assumed to be stolen money.
"Um Mr.Redhoid you can put me off here" you'd taoped his shoulder to let him know but he simply ignored your statement and handed you a bloody crowbar.
"Since your here you might as well help me" he said and as soon as you heard those words you felt your soul attempt to leave your body.
Not out of fear of course, was this vigilante really allowing you to attack someone without receiving any repercussions?
You were starting to like this.
"Get the tires" he instructed to which you gladly got in position for.
When you noticed the distance between you and the vehicle closing in you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and lowered yourself towards the the concrete of the road.
Anchoring yourself to his waist before swinging the crowbar above your head and striking the back tire of the vehicle, causing the vehicle to violently swerve off the road and crash into a nearby street light.
You could hear yourself let out a loud scream before an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back onto the seat of the motorcycle.
"Was that a scream of joy or fear?" He quickly came to a stop before turning to face you.
When his eyes landed in your face it was safe to say that he was quite amused. Your pupils were blown wide while your hair was shifted wildly all over you face.
You'd seemed to be in some sort of daze which lasted for the rest of the night. Not even noticing when he dropped you off to your house and left you dazed on your doorstep.
Tim Drake
Honestly he didn't mean to follow you around like that. For some reason he'd found himself getting into the habit of walking you home every evening.
Even when there was something else he was supposed to be doing he still found a way to walk you home every evening and after a while it seems like you found out about his sleep deprivation.
You weren't blind, you could see how the large eyecbags that peeked out from underneath the vigilantes mask. You noticed how he slurred his words when talking or how he'd trip over his own feet when walking beside you.
He was very good at hiding it but after while you started noticing how tired he truly was and even though you wanted to help out in some way you just knew there wasn't anything you could really do.
You tried thinking of ways to help but they'd always lead you back to square one.
You of course picked up on the strong hint of caffeine that always stuck to him like white on rice but you weren't gonna gift him coffee. That would just feed into his problem do instead you came up with a better idea.
You'd start taking short breaks on your way home.
You'd take a seat on any bench you'd see in your way home, the vigilante following closely behind you and seating himself next to you.
Then you'd try and coax him into using your shoulder as a little pillow to try to get some sleep and without much resistance he'd give in and rest his head onto your shoulder.
And even though Tim never actually fell asleep during your little breaks he'd still sit still and allow himself to relax.
At least during those few seconds of peace he could finally relax for the first time in a while.
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starcurtain · 5 months ago
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A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine
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I was morally obligated to use this picture.
Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.
First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:
In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:
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It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)
The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.
Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.
While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.
But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.
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Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.
When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:
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(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)
But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.
Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.
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"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:
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There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.
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The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.
Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.
Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)
So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.
Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.
(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)
Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:
From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.
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At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."
Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.
Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.
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Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.
Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)
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At first, this line might read as all over the place:
"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.
"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.
"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.
"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.
The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.
Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.
But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.
In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:
First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...
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The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.
Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.
This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:
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But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.
The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.
He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.
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It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)
But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.
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This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.
He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).
Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.
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This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.
Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.
Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.
Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.
In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.
And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.
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What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?
The guy whose motto might as well be:
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Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?
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A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.
Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.
This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."
Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.
And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.
The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."
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So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:
Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.
He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.
He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.
So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.
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Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.
PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!
Now there's just... everything else... 🫠
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Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.
So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:
It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.
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Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.
Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.
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Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.
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Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.
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Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)
At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.
Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.
They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.
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Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)
Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.
Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."
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They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."
Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.
Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.
Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.
They just... fit.
And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.
Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.
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Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...
Then there's this:
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Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.
On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.
Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.
Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."
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Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.
On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.
If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.
And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.
(I just... love them so much...)
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sanguinesmi1e · 3 months ago
Text
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 (you're here)
Full fic on Ao3
Art of LBM
Pt. 4: An Unexp-ectoed Party (not on Ao3 yet)
Constantine was quietly freaking out. He couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that the ghost who had turned itself into a cute little tatzelwurm to avoid answering questions might be something far beyond his capabilities to deal with. Everything it said and did suggested it was way outside his scope of experience. While Tim used a shoelace to play with it like a rambunctious kitten, John mentally catalogued the things that threatened to give him a panic attack:
Before the ghost even arrived, the blinding power flowing through his spell array nearly knocked him flat. It had felt like being swatted in the eyeballs by an eldritch god.
The ghost appeared in human form, fully alive, before being transformed by the summoning magic. John had only ever heard whispers of legends about a being who could do such a thing. The legends were vague and grandiose, but some epithets included The One Who Walks Between, He Who Straddles Life and Death, Twilight Walker, Shroud Danger Child, and The Halver. 
The ghost could not only see his soul at a glance, it could perceive all the damage he had done making deals with demons.
The ghost implied it was on casual, friendly terms with the Ancient of Time aka Chronos, Kala, Father Time, etc. And that it had altered the timeline at least once already.
It could age. Despite what the ghost said, only Neverborn should be able to age. The dead were static, and given the death that he could feel sustaining the portal, this ghost had definitely died.
It was brilliant enough to pinpoint a weakness and successfully distract Tim by transforming into a shape that could manipulate his protective instincts. John did not want to admit that he also felt protective of the cute little blighter.
It had hopped out of the summoning circle as if it were just chalk scribbles, despite John working in some of his most powerful containment spells as a matter of what he had thought was excessive precaution.
Shite, the list had already reached seven items. The tatzelwurm (had Drake really just named the thing Little Baby Man?) glared at him and called him “Gross!” 
“Seriously!? This cloaking spell should be more than sufficient.” John grumbled. “Did it really have no effect?” If so, that was gonna be item number eight.
Little Baby Man tilted his head. “It worked.” Then he huffed with amusement. 
Thank fuck for small blessings. 
A quickly muttered spell turned his burning cigarette into a makeshift sort of laser pointer, and Constantine distracted Little Baby Man while he tried to think of what to do next.
“Hey kid, this is a problem.” He kept his voice low, and watched to see if the tatzelwurm appeared to pay any attention to him. It dedicated all its attention to the glowing dot, and ignored the two men.
“I assume this isn’t the normal direction your interrogations go.” Drake wound his shoelace around his hand and pocketed it. “It’s certainly a first for me.”
“Ditto, in so many ways.”
“Any idea what to do now?”
“We should probably return him where he came from, and wait for Zatanna to get back from wherever she’s disappeared to now.” John would really like a second opinion. He would also like to dump this mess in someone else’s lap and be on his way. 
Although to be fair, watching the tatzelwurm careen around after his lazer dot was actually pretty fun. Not that he’d ever admit it. Still, the creature was done answering questions and John wasn’t prepared to bind the thing because he didn’t think he’d need to pack the tools to bind an eldritch god when Batman called him to do a “quick consult.”
Danny couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. The CEO person played with him! He did feel a bit bad for hurting his foot, but it was difficult to dwell on regrets or worries when he could attack the string instead. And now there was a red dot to chase! It was very fast and sneaky, but he was faster and sneakier.
Is this what Paulina felt like when she wished herself to be a giant chibi version of herself to be loved and worshipped by everyone? Because he felt adorable. And fierce. He was going to kill that red dot so hard when he finally sunk his claws in it!
Frustratingly, it seemed to also have intangibility powers. Well, Danny knew what to do about that! He concentrated ectoplasm into his paw and bapped it down hard on the dot. This scorched the floor a bit, but when he lifted his paw, the red dot was skewered on one of his claws. It tried to tug away, but he clung tight. Apparently its size belied its strength, because it started to drag him across the floor. 
Danny tried to release the dot, but his claw was firmly snagged, so he resigned himself to being dragged back into the chalk circle. He tingled a bit as he crossed the perimeter, but it wasn’t a bad sensation, just a little odd. Then a portal opened up and pulled him through the water filled tube snake toy sensation in reverse and ugh! Just as bad the second time, if not worse.
The spell spat him out in human form under the Specter Speeder. Or rather, it ejected him at speed so he smacked into the bottom of the Speeder before falling back to the ground with a heavy thud. Thankfully he didn’t crack his head against the concrete, but he still couldn’t stifle a pained groan.
A firm hand wrapped around Danny’s ankle and dragged him out, and he found himself staring up at Drake and Constantine for the third time that day.
“Uh, hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I have some explaining to do.”
Being able to create ghost portals would come in real handy right about now. Maybe he should just commit some arson and let these two deal with escaping the basement on their own.
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evanpeterswhoresblog · 11 months ago
Note
i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered
i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)
~~~
Lovefool
Tate Langdon x f!reader
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warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you
summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…
word count: 4.4
~~~
2011
You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.
He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”
“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.
Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.
“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.
“What question?” He responds.
“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”
~~~
1993
Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.
You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.
The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.
What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?
Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.
At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.
It was around that time that he had found the mask.
It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.
He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.
Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.
He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.
“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.
“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”
Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.
Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.
~~~
The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.
However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.
So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.
He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.
After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”
Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.
“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.
“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?
“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.
“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”
You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”
“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.
“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.
Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.
“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.
“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.
He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”
He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.
~~~
“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.
Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”
“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.
“It’s seventy degrees.”
“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”
Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”
Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.
So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.
It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.
On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.
“Is this really for me?” You asked.
“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.
You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”
“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”
“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”
Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.
“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”
You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.
~~~
The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.
“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”
You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.
“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”
You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.
He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.
“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.
“Nothing,” you replied.
“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”
You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”
“How is it scary?” He laughed.
“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.
“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.
“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”
“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.
You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”
“Well, is that what this is about?”
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.
“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.
“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”
Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”
You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.
“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”
His heart practically stopped. “What?”
“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”
Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.
As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.
You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.
He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.
He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.
When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.
You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.
You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”
“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”
He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.
“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”
Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”
“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”
“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”
He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.
“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”
You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.
“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”
“What?” You asked.
“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.
~~~
2011
“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”
All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.
Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.
You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”
“So?”
You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”
1K notes · View notes
helenazbmrskai · 7 months ago
Text
Mating Act (m)
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Title [Mating Act]
Pairing [Alien! Yoongi x Human Slave! Reader]
Genre [Alien AU, Sci-fi, Smut, Angst, Fluff]
Summary [You make two choices that change your life entirely. First, you make a choice when you decide to save a family and get kidnapped instead of them, the second you make is when you force imprinting on an alien that takes one wife in his life which you decide will be only you.]
Words [5,2k]
Warnings [General warnings: slavery, bad treatment, dystopia setting, human trafficking, Sexual content: playful neck grabbing, teasing, sexual tension, first-time sex, dirty talk, manhandling, mention of human and wife a lot, alien anatomy (black ink, coldness and a very hard, big and cold dick also magic saliva), fingering, oral (f and m), unprotected sex, belly bulge, size kink, positions (cock riding, doggy, missionary), y/n cries that is how good she feels, overstimulation, buckets of cum, creampie(s), begging, blow job, possessive alien yoongi]
Rating [+18]
A/N: I’m very excited to share this with you guys since I think this would be a great successor to my previous work that many of you liked called “Mating Season” It’s kind of the same but entirely different. This story is in the same universe but it takes place before mating season!
Masterlist //
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Your scrunched eyes open slowly, first, you only see a blinding light your ears focus on the cracking sound of neon. It’s cold and you’re not wearing enough clothes for the cool temperature. It takes a few seconds for your senses to return to you and then you can fixate on your surroundings, it’s outdoors and midday as you see the sun going up high in the purplish blue sky.
It seemed that by the time you were unconscious, you arrived at the slave trading planet. The light grey iron bars are cold to the touch and it’s extremely noisy out there. Different species roam the cells it might be hundreds if not thousands of cells lined up for sale, and you’re one of them: a rare find, a human.
Your introduction is displayed for the buyers in numerous languages. There are a few that you speak so you can read it with ease: female human, breedable, young. You hate how the aliens size you up some even get threateningly close until you back up. They openly talk about you thinking that you can’t understand a single thing. Humans are stupid and weak. You’re a race that is almost at extinction. Only a few of you are left and your life expectancy is around eighty years old, it’s short compared to others but all too long for you humans. You managed to survive this long which is a miracle on its own. How pathetic of you to get caught in international body trafficking because you decided to save someone. At least you hope that the family you tried to protect is safe somewhere else you don’t have anything left to protect so you accept your faith.
Deep in your thoughts, you thought you lost all faith in survival. You don’t have anything to go back to but you’re still unable to give up.
You still don’t want to die.
Your defiant gaze meets with a young male. Shorter than his friends he has bland black hair with the same eyes that almost look human. You know that he’s not one of your own though he speaks a different language with his friends and has weird marking on his skin that looks exotic in your eyes.
“Do you like her?” A man next to him stops to read your description. They almost look sorry for you as they see you behind the cell.
“No.” Black hair says without giving it a second. His eyes bore into yours and when he decides to stop looking at you you make a second split decision. You’re going to choose him. Your hands grip the bars as you get as close to him as you can. It’s been a long time since you used that language but you have to try.
“Take me.” They can clearly understand your words, you speak their language. You point at the black-haired man.
“Oh, it seems to like you Yoongi.” A friendly voice slaps him on the shoulders. They talk animatedly among each other finding you intriguing. Books say that the human race is stupid and weak but you look none of those things. His friends encourage Yoongi to get closer to you and for once you don’t step back as he approaches after a little push in your direction. His hands grab onto the bars before he can regain his posture and you use that opportunity to put your hands on his. His hand is cold to the touch the cold blue veins on his hands are in contrast to his pale white skin.
“Yoongi.” You call out the word you heard them say that you think might be his name.
“We’re running out of time. Let’s take her and leave.” A man speaks up his eyes fixated on the holo panel that shows the time and some kind of message. He has some weird-looking glass in his eyes, you think he might be the captain of the ship. You’ve seen that type of accessory somewhere before.
“I didn’t say I will buy it.” Yoongi pulls his hand away like you dirtied him. You rack your brain on how to make him take you with him. Black hair and black eyes, cool skin and vine-like black ink make you think of a race. You loved to read books this is how you taught yourself a few of those languages and you remember reading about his species once. This decision might take you closer to your end but it will be better than rotting in this place so you grab his clothes and smash your lips on his through the tiny gap between the bars.
A race that takes one wife in his lifetime. You’re going to bet on that.
Your tongue forcefully enters his mouth using his surprise against him to successfully imprint your taste on him. After his mind catches up he pushes you away so hard that you land on your butt. His eyes almost look feral as he watches you, he’s very angry but closes his eyes to push the feeling down.
“Get up.” You haul yourself up from the floor getting close to him despite his hard gaze on you. You don’t flinch when he grabs your hair and pulls you close so that your faces are inches away from each other.
“You want to come, then come.” It’s not a calm and collected sentence that he whispers so close to you. It sounds like a threat but you smile and nod. Even if he hates you he has an obligation to you. With that kiss you sealed your fate with his, you’re his. His one and only human wife for all eternity.
Your back collides with the wall behind you as soon as you see your kidnapper his torture that you had to endure is replaying in the forefront of your mind as he fiddles with the cell keys your hostility is not lost on the young men that wait for your release. Yoongi paid for you in digital cash don’t have more time to waste.
He intends to take you with him so he asks for the ownership process to be sped up.
The kidnapper yanks you out of the cell not caring about how you almost land on your face through the force he uses. Yoongi catches you easily lifting you in his arms. You forced him into accepting you but he still does his job of protecting you. His glare is not meant for you this time as he looks displeased by your idle treatment right in front of him. His big hands are curled around you in pretence protection. You must be crazy because you actually relax in his secure hold.
“Hi.” One of his friends gets your attention as he waves. He looks at you with curious eyes he seems like he has a lot of questions for you.
“Hello.” You reply in a hoarse voice. You don’t remember the last time you ate or drank something.
“What’s your name? I’m Hoseok.” He points at you and then at himself. It’s nice of him to talk slowly so you have time to interpret his words. No one else speaks to you as you go. Probably on their way to their ship since one of them implied some important business. Yoongi doesn’t look at you but his hands are firm around you.
“Y/N.”
“Your name is weird.” Hoseok slaps his friend but you don’t take it in the wrong way. Of course, for them, a human name will sound weird.
“You’re being rude Taehyung.” Hoseok scolds the other guy before he turns back to you swaying in Yoongi’s arms. “I think your name is pretty and you speak our language pretty well. How did you learn it? On Earth?”
You shake your head. If you think about your home planet your heart starts aching. “No. I taught myself reading books.”
Now his other friend looks interested in the conversation. The one who has that weird-looking glass.
“Fascinating, to find a smart human like you. I want to run some tests.” Hearing that crazy scientist talk again brings back bad memories as your face becomes uncomfortable and your relaxed figure goes rigid inside Yoongi’s arms. He could feel you tense up in fear and he reacted by holding you more firmly to his chest.
“You’re scaring her. Stop it.” This is the first thing he says after he bought you. Namjoon looks sheepish and apologises and even Hoseok reassures you that he’s just not good with words and you won’t be a lab rat at all.
You accept their apology. You think they mean well and are quite friendly to your utter surprise. They seem like good guys. You feel like it’s a good time to reveal some of your thoughts.
“Just because you read my description doesn’t mean you know anything about me. I wouldn’t reveal anything that would put me at a disadvantage. This is how I could survive until now.” The words taste sour in your mind and you think about all the things you had to do and endure just to be here. Was it worth it? This life. You have thought about it more times than you would have liked to admit.
“It must have been hard for you.” Hoseok shows you empathy and you give him a smile back in silent thanks.
“Why did you choose Yoongi?” A younger male looks at you with curious eyes. They don’t show it but this is the question they all were curious about all along. Even Yoongi perks up when he thinks you’re not looking.
“My instinct told me to trust him.” As for why, you don’t know either. You saw countless men and women walk in front of your cage but you only wanted him to buy you. The moment his eyes unknowingly lingered on you you decided to go with him. He must have felt something too. You saw him before he saw you. He never looked at anyone else but you. If you ask him he will probably deny it but you’re sure of it.
You probably looked desperate. Now that you replay your impulsive behaviour in your mind colour blooms on your cheeks in embarrassment. You learned how to kiss from a book it didn’t occur to you before but what if you were a bad kisser? You started spiralling until your surroundings faded and you locked yourself inside your head. You didn’t register when you arrived on board or when he carried you to his room.
You shiver when he puts you down on his bed. The temperature of his room is colder than you’re used to.
You panic when he tugs your clothes without a word. You grab his cold hands and look into his eyes with widened ones. He looks back at you with predatory. You once read that humans had a ceremony to be pronounced wife and husband. You never experienced it as a human but it sounded romantic.
Thinking back on what you read.
Yoongi is an alien. His species only takes one wife and their ritual is different from yours. The road to becoming his wife is simple enough.
“Look at you being surprised. As if you didn’t know what you did when you kissed me first.” You didn’t know, you just acted impulsively without thinking. You wanted to say that to him but only a gasp left your lips as he pushed you down on his large bed. He won’t listen to any of your pathetic excuses now.
“You forced my hands. Even if you don’t want it anymore you have no other choice but to be mine.” You gulp down the saliva that accumulated in your mouth, his fierce eyes pin you to the spot lying helplessly under him. His hand is so cold as he wraps it around your neck gently he can feel your heartbeat accelerate under his palm. He studies your features taking in every inch of you from head to toe. Committing everything about you to memory. Yoongi curls a few locks of your long hair around his fingers inhaling your scent his nose rubs against your pulse point. Your hands hold onto his waist digging your fingers onto his side but he doesn’t care about it as he kisses the skin on your neck.
You’re dirty and dishevelled in appearance your captor was not kind to his prisoners and you look like a shell of yourself after everything that you’ve been through. Your average beauty doesn’t matter to Yoongi. He’s going to take you regardless of how beautiful you look in other's eyes or not. The kiss already sealed your fate as his bride. Imprinting your taste on him means that he can’t escape you. While Yoongi wants to take you right then and there he realises that you need to be in a better shape to undertake the ritual. He did get a reaction rise out of you. So amusingly innocent.
“Take a shower, you reak.” You awkwardly look to the side unable to meet with his confident smirk. He likes to watch your face turn red. He pulls away from you and you take in a long-needed breath of fresh air. The coldness seeping back into your body makes you sober up and you scurry to his joined bathroom. Yoongi laughs as he sees you hide behind the door he makes sure you can operate the shower before he goes out to get some food for you. You don’t have any clothes to wear but you’re at least clean.
You find a clean cloth to wrap around your body in makeshift clothes it’s better than nothing as you need something to shield you from the cold.
Yoongi comes back before you can organize your thoughts. You could barely calm your heart as your mind kept replaying his soft lips on your neck and his body weight on you not to talk about those alluring black eyes. You could still see your reflection in them as you lock gazes. You look away when he puts the tray down in front of you full of food that you don’t know the name of. It’s not too bad once you take a bite but it’s bland the more you consume. It meets the purpose of filling you up as you no longer feel that gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach.
You jolt up when you feel his hand pull your wet hair to the other side making his way to your neck. He takes a long whiff of air finally smelling your natural scent that was previously masked by the dirt and sweat. He takes the opportunity to cover you in his scent rubbing his nose up and down your throat.
You can’t concentrate on eating anymore.
“Eat. You will need it.” As if he could read your mind he halts all movements simply deciding on laying his head on your shoulder. You pick up more food and try to ignore how his possessive touch engulfs your body in a backhug. You remember how angry he became once you forcibly kissed him he even pushed you hard enough to lose your footing. The way he accepted you is too sudden.
“Are you going to …” Unable to say the words you stop in the middle.
“Am I going to fuck you? Yes, I will.” You gulp.
“Don’t you hate me for kissing you?” You close your eyes when Yoongi wraps his fingers around your neck again this time with more force but gentle enough that you’re not choking on air he just pulls you against his chest holding you by the neck as his nose rubs against your left cheek.
“I am angry. You selfishly decided this on your own. I bet you don’t realise half of the mess you got yourself into. I don’t hate you though. There’s something about you that caught my eye.”
It’s only a small peck on your cheek but your hands tighten around the tray. You take in a much-needed breath when you realise he doesn’t hate you. It makes you feel better knowing that it’s not entirely your imagination. He did look at you.
“I admit I don’t know much.” You sheepishly reply confirming his words. You read some things about his species but there’s no proof that everything is accurate.
“It doesn’t matter as you will be mine anyway.” His hand pulls you close his fingers splayed over your stomach. You only have a thin cloth over your naked body while Yoongi is fully clothed.
“Put down the tray.” You follow his order bending down slightly to put the tray down onto the floor. You let out a surprised yelp when his hands find your ass under the thin material, your backside is on full display for his hungry eyes. Your fingers have a deadly grip on the edge of the bed as he kneads the soft flesh.
“Your smell comes strongly from here.” His thumb parts your folds some wetness is gathered there that sticks to his finger when he pulls back. “I read a few books about you too, enough to know that this means you like the idea of me fucking you.”
Yoongi hates how he can’t see you acting coy biting your lip so he forcibly pulls you back against his chest and pulls your face to the side. You land on his lap your legs dangling on either side of his thighs. He runs his finger up and down your wetness watching your expression turn hazy and your mouth open to let out a silent moan.
“You like this don’t you? Having your human pussy touched by me.” Yoongi finds your clit quickly finding out how your moans increase in volume when he rubs circles over it. You’re gushing over his fingers.
The black ink on his arms moves to stain your body with blackness until it circles over your thigh in two pretty hoops. Your body is getting overheated as his touches devour your body. Fingers dance around your folds, your hips. The black hoops around your ankles and thighs are a reminder of what you started. You’re going to become Yoongi’s and no one can stop that from happening.
Feeling overwhelmed you reach up to kiss him and he does with a growl. He doesn’t push you away like when you stole his first kiss. No. He pulls you closer turning you around until you’re chest to chest.
Your hand rests against his shoulders your fingernails digging into his skin as you feel one of his fingers enter you without warning. Yoongi swallows your sounds with his mouth pushing his finger in and out of your pussy until your essence is running down his wrist. He adds another one and another one stretching your walls as he devours your mouth your hips moving along without you noticing. Getting into the rhythm of riding his fingers. You need to pull back to get some air in between the kisses. His hungry expression manages to steal your last remaining string of sanity. The cloth around you barely covers you anymore and Yoongi goes to remove it and leave you entirely naked before him.
His attention goes to your perky nipples both hands grabbing a handful and pepper kisses around the mound.
So far he doesn’t look strange. Not that you have any experience of what you should see in a situation like this. You conclude that your newly formed tattoos are one of the few things that are specific to his race.
His tongue is cold it makes you shiver when he sucks on one of your nipples. He’s so cold but his coolness is welcomed by your feverish body.
“Lay down.” You do as he tells you. Eagerly and shamelessly open your legs and welcome him between them. This is really happening you realise when he takes off his clothes. His pale skin is pretty and cool against you. Even his cock lined with cold blue veins is pretty and cold when he rubs it between your folds. It’s big and hard like a rock against you. Yoongi can see how you tense up after seeing his size.
“It won’t hurt if you do as I tell you.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb kissing you surprisingly sweetly.
“O-okay.” You nod. You wanted this. You can’t back down now. This is your only chance to live a life without hardships. You’re going to take everything that he gives you.
“This will make it feel better.” Yoongi licks his finger and when it comes into contact with your clit you feel an overwhelming pleasure bloom inside you. His saliva is heightening your pleasure having some kind of chemical in it that helps you feel kind of high. It blocks the pain when his veiny head pushes through the tight rim of your muscle. You and Yoongi watch how his long cock disappears in you inch by inch. It doesn’t hurt at all as he keeps his thumb on your clit, only making you feel full.
“Too much.” You put your hand on your stomach and feel him sitting inside. He makes way no matter how much your body tries to constrict around the intrusion. He reaches your deepest part shaping you into his size.
“There. All in.” Yoongi chuckles when he sees you struggle. You want to stay still and move at the same time. It feels good and strange but too good. You want him to move but on the other hand, you need time to get accustomed to this fullness. Yoongi can see the outline of his cock bulge out of your tummy and he experimentally pushes against your skin. Your pussy pulse around him and get tighter as he massages your lower belly. “How does it feel my little human? Do you feel good?”
You nod kissing him back with passion as your tongues rub together. He continues his descent down your body kissing your neck and breasts. Filling your body with pretty black ink. You pulse and throb around him as he remains unmoving inside you. Not enough you roll your hips trying to show him you want him to move.
“Answer me. Does my cock make you feel good?” At first, he only pulls out a little before he thrusts back testing the waters before he pulls out more as he uses a steady pace to rock into you.
“Yes. Yes. So good please don’t stop. Fuck me harder.” Yoongi wonders how his wife learned how to say such dirty words in his language but he’s thankful for it as his cock appreciates the compliments. Just like you asked he fucks you harder hitting that spot inside you with more deep thrusts.
“Yoongi. Yoongi.” The way you moan his name spurs him on, grabbing your ankles he sinks the remaining inch inside you.
“Ah. Y/N.” He responds with your own name. Grabbing your hips he pumps his cock in and out of you at a fast pace until you can remember his shape. This is the first time he says your name and your walls constrict around him hearing him moaning it. He’s growing addicted to the feel of you. He can hear and smell and see you. The way your pussy swallows him in your tight and wet heat ruined every expectation he had before.
You feel way better than he imagined.
Your tits bounce with each thrust and your moans never cease to slip from your dry throat as he buries his shaft to the hilt.
“Yoongi, I feel weird.” You grab his hand need something to hold onto as you feel this weird tightness in your belly. Yoongi could sense you were almost there tripping over the edge of bliss you became tighter around him. You’re growing sensitive.
“I know. Hold onto me, my sweet wife.” You hold his hand as he twists it behind your back the position is uncomfortable but the minute his cock slips back inside your heat you forget about it as it reaches new places inside you. Your back is arched one hand is firmly holding you and the other is placed on your hips.
This position allows him to hit even deeper the tip of his cock curves around a spot that has you see stars. You’re panting with your face nearly suffocating against the bed. Unable to move or hold yourself up you’re entirely kept in place by the help of Yoongi. The tightness in your chest explodes as you cream around Yoongi’s cock. He doesn’t stop there he fucks you through overstimulation keeping up with his ruthless pace you tear through the bedsheets. His long fat cock claims your pussy as his with a heavy load of cum. The tattoos on your body all settle down as he finishes with a few sloppy thrusts into your buttered hole.
Once he pulls out you can feel his thick cum pour out and his fingers trace your tattoos painting your body with his whiteness until everything about you is covered in him. He doesn’t stop there, he pries your shaking legs open and latches onto your sensitive bud. Yoongi pushes his cum back with two of his fingers as his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s too much and you try to push his face away but he doesn’t budge. He holds both of your hands in his tight grip on your stomach as he continues to feast on your pussy.
“Yoongi. Oh, uh.” You squirm but you can’t escape his hold. “Please. Stop, i-it’s too much.” Tears start to roll down your cheeks the next orgasm you experience hurts so bad but you can’t deny how it feels incredible at the same time. More intense than the previous one you had you let go with a cry of his name and cum around his fingers.
“No. More.” Yoongi looks up after registering your hiccup and goes up to soothe you. His tongue licks your tears away showering your neck and face with kisses until your crying subsides.
Yoongi looks you over and while he finds you utterly appealing covered in his cum he has a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He pulls you close to his chest but after your senses come back one by one you start to feel his sticky cum all over you. Some still gush out of your hole as he hugs you to his body.
“No.” You shake your head reassuring him with a kiss. You don’t want to admit you cried because he felt so good.
This is the first time you experienced something like this. You’re in no way an expert but you know that his dick is not like any human males you’ve encountered in your books. They shouldn’t be so cold and big and the small ridges that kept rubbing your insides felt weird but incredibly good at the same time.
Even when he’s not aroused he’s so big. You want to touch it. “Can I?” Asking for permission you reach for his cock that rests against your leg but you don’t touch it until you get the green light for it.
“Sure.” Yoongi chuckles at your curiosity. It hasn’t been a hot minute that his dick was inside you but you want to touch it.
“It’s cold.” You muse, it’s slick with both of your cum so you could drag it up and down easily. Yoongi’s gasp catches in his throat it’s still sensitive but he lets you pump it until it’s hard again. You grow curious about how it tastes so you lick around the head as your hand moves up and down in slow motion. It doesn’t really taste like anything to you. Easy to swallow. You take your place in between his legs to get comfortable. Yoongi shivers when he feels your hot mouth around his most sensitive cockhead. You dip your tongue into the slit earning a loud groan from Yoongi his hand rests on top of your head only moving to get the hair out of his view of you sucking his cock.
“Do you like it?” You wonder if it feels good for him. This is the first time you’re doing this.
“Y-Yes, keep going.” You take more of him into your mouth encouraged by his hooded eyes that watch you. “Your mouth is very warm. It feels incredible.” You hum around a mouthful of cock he’s too big for you to get even half of him into your mouth. You stroke the skin that you can’t lick and you focus on his head instead of trying to choke on his cock. Even though you don’t think he wouldn’t like to see you choke on his length trying to fit everything. He reassures you that he likes everything you do to him. He doesn’t try to push your head down and you appreciate his thoughtfulness with an enthusiastic bob of your head up and down his length. He fills your mouth so much that it’s hard for you to swallow around it.
He's throbbing between your lips as you kiss the tip. He shows you how much he’s enjoying it with his lewd moans and sweet touches on your face and the back of your head. Contemplating what you should do with yourself you decide to give in to the desire once more. You want to have him again that it outweighs your concern to be able to take him after such a short time but it doesn’t deter you as you climb on his lap.
“Help me?” You ask shyly rubbing on his fully hard cock.
“Of course,” Yoongi replies with a smirk he can see how needy you are and he won’t deny his pretty wife anything. He kisses your lips sucking on your tongue as he guides your hips to hover over his cockhead.
He touches and kisses every mark and tattoo that appears on your skin.
You sink slowly at your own pace feeling full but you overcome the stretch of your body remembering his shape makes it easier for you to bury it fully into you. He’s big and hard as a rock inside you.
You need him to help you move but he’s more than eager to lift you and have you bounce on his cock. He’s wound up from your previous actions he had no idea he would be this turned on by seeing your small hands and mouth wrapped around his dick. You smell delicious he can’t help but kiss every inch he can reach as he guides you through the motions. You bounce on his cock your expression entirely clouded by pleasure as he hits the best spots inside your spongy walls. Yoongi kneads your ass pulling them apart to watch his cock disappear inside your small pussy. Your body might be coated in his cum but his cock is entirely coated in your arousal and cum until he shoots a fresh load inside your spent hole.
The others don’t see you the next couple of days only catch the back of Yoongi as he carries fresh food for you.
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jayden-killer · 1 year ago
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Greediest man in the Stone World.
summary: you've just being awaken by your old friend and classmate, Senku, in a whole new human era. But, who's this young guy claiming you as his? a/n: waahh, i sincerly apologise if i disappeared...again. i literally forgot my tumblr writing page, and life took a.. strange turn of events(?) kinda. i hope this first ryusui one shot will make me forgive!!!
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Dark. And then... a golden beam of light passed through my eyes, blinding me. My muscles began to melt. I felt them sore, as if I had slept in an uncomfortable position all night. Or maybe, for three thousand and fifty years. This was what was brought back to me when I woke up from that sleep I thought was eternal. The first thing my eyes noticed when they hatched was a blinding sun. There was so much green. So much vegetation was not seen even in the well-preserved jungles. Then, a group of boys with familiar and unfamiliar faces. My eyes met his.
"Senku..?"
I uttered that name in a subtle tone of voice, and the boy did nothing but address to me that mischievous grin of his own.
"Yoh, Y/N...we need your help".
[ Time skip...(*ゝω・)ノ ]
"So... you need my dexterity in putting these little pieces together so you can build, um... Repeat it, thank you".
"An oxygen tank" Senku rest, without even thinking of getting that smirk off his face.
His attitude hadn’t disappeared after 3,700 years. Not even when he claimed in front of a professor that their speeches were meaningless.
Here we go again...
Between a sigh and the other I immediately set to work, while in the distance I heard Senku arguing with what seemed to be his colleague.
Just in the middle of my work I felt someone touching my shoulder gently. A delicate touch, like that of a…
"Child?"
The girl in question wore a watermelon helmet on her head, with lenses inserted in the two holes that created a space for the eyes. She made a sound of wonder, her hands to her mouth.
"So, you are new here!"
With a confused look I lowered myself to her level, able to have a face-to-face conversation with the little creature. " I suppose so..? And you are...?" That little girl who didn’t immediately show her intentions and courage was pretty to say the least.
"Suika wanted to welcome you to the Science Team!" she said clearly, now showing me her hand to shake her. I took her, and with a kind smile, I accepted her request. "How kind of you! Since I am now a new addition to your team, can I have the honor to meet my future colleagues and companions?"
Little Suika nodded happily, running in the opposite direction where I was working. Heck. Maybe it was me who was no longer a child like her, but Suika seemed really fast in the race, not giving me a chance to keep up. I didn’t know where she was taking me; we passed through several huts, erected on wooden structures, running as if someone was after us.
The only one chasing her was me. Looking back to see if we’d actually drifted apart, my foot tripped on a double-sized rock. The collision with the stone made me lose my balance; I was ready to crash on the dirty ground and have some bruises all over my face for a few days. Only that never happened. In the instant that I was about to feel my face against the damp soil, two arms wrapped my waists not too strong, but with determination, preventing me from slipping a second time. I didn’t even realize I closed my eyes.
"It’s not even the first day you’re back here on Earth, and you were destined to get hurt. Pff, not very convenient for our team, huh?"
A moment later my eyes sprang to meet his, and those eyes reminded me of an autumn now close to winter. " Well, lady killer, now you might as well put me down. I’m not meant to be your princess." I said authoritatively. His powerful arms let go of my body, and with a little thump my butt bounced off the ground.
What an idiot!
Not only was he now laughing at me with a fat laugh, as if I had just said the funniest joke on Earth, but he didn’t even deign to preseed himself! The blond slightly lowered his head, as I was still on the ground, and with an energetic voice he replied:
"Not yet", later going in the opposite direction, with firm step. Oh, what kind of weird I had in front…
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
"Become mine! With all my Drago you would become the luckiest woman in the world!"
Somebody kill me...
It had been two months since I had made my unexpected (better to say, unlucky) acquaintance with blondie, who had the name of Ryusui Nanami. With his egocentrism and sheer avarice, he had proved to be one of the most promising members of the Kingdom of Science so far, with great skills for navigation. Apparently he came from one of the wealthiest families in Japan, and he certainly had not lost the habit of being indulged in everything, even after 3,500 years. And since our first meeting, he hasn’t stopped trying once. On every occasion he would give me his flirtations comments (sometimes shabby), he would become handsy, or he would try to buy me with his stupid Drago.
I was not one of those women who was so easily deceived, especially if a situation was about money. He thought I would give in so easily. I was so determined to prove to him the opposite, during these months, that this would give him up. With a gesture of the hand, I pushed him away. " I’m sorry, Ryusui. As I’ve explained many times before, I’m not interested." I took a dramatic break. ".. to you."
He whined loudly like a little baby, fogetting his money behind to get close to me. "You’re making a mistake!"
"I have made many mistakes in my life," I answered sharply.
"Then add another to your long list." I nailed him down with my sharp look, sketching a tight smile. Nothing to do. That man would never wave the white flag in the sky. However, it was becoming a nuisance, and having it close to me like a fin was starting to run out. For the worse.
I had only one idea that could have saved me in that instant, from a near future in which he was no longer clinging to me like an octopus: make him believe he had a chance with me. A bold idea; nevertheless, it had to be tried. Either it will make it or break it.
"Maybe, in the future, you might have a chance…" I implied in a vague tone, already heading somewhere, any, to get him off my back. I could swear to see his eyes shining remarkably with hope, and a new fire, fueled by determination.
He snapped his fingers, his iconic gesture that everyone, by now, had learned to recognize, and if he did, it was because he decided to do something. There were no roads back.
"HA-HA!" His laughter seemed to flow throughout the Ishigami village. Even Senku and Chrome turned to us, with confused scowls, to see what was so funny at the time. But Ryusui found nothing amusing in this situation, except a challenge to complete.
"So be it! I’ll show you how much I’m willing to change your mind. Anything to get the chance to become yours!"
Though I did not turn to look at him, once again, his muscular arms clasped my waists, turning my body to meet his. Face to face. "You, damned Nanami, what do you want now?!" That gesture had taken me by surprise, because he was not used to come so near me, but with his cheeky smile, he kissed me on both the cheeks. A quick gesture that made me blush remarkably in my face, almost to feel it burn under the palms of my hands.
"What the f...?!"
"You don’t know it, but you’re already mine!"
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luveline · 7 months ago
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you asked for marauders so how about rockstar!sirius? i love a good reunion fic
He’s sitting at the back of a dimly lit restaurant with friends. One you recognise, Remus, but the rest you’re unsure of. Sirius has the remarkable ability to make friends in every city of every country and in each continent; you can’t possibly keep track of them all. You can barely keep track of him, though he tries his best to tell you. 
Going to a restaurant tonight called The Lucky Rabbit for dinner, Remus says they have rocky road? Seems a bit shit. Love you, see you in sixteen days 
You get a message in similar fashion each night, the days until you’ll see one another counting steadily down. There are days where you don’t get much more than that, he’s got a hate-hate relationship with his phone, and while you don’t blame him, you miss him. 
He calls you most mornings, at least. Yesterday’s had been particularly sweet, because Sirius was sweet, and he doesn’t tend to be, not when you’re out of arms reach. 
“I wish I could see you,” he’d said, something muffled about his voice as though he’d been speaking with his lips to his pillow, “wish you were here. I don’t know… I miss you a lot. I didn’t expect it to feel like this.” 
It used to be terrifying when he’d say stuff like that. Your famous boyfriend, confessing affection down the line to a total loser with nothing to give him. Now it just makes you want to kiss it better. 
You text Remus quickly to ensure that it’s a good time. Hi, I’m at the door. 
He pulls out his phone and grins. I won’t look in case I give you away. Do you need me to take some of the boys? 
That would be nice, but, Maybe you can drag him out for a cig? you text. I’ll wait in the smokers area? 
No problem
You rush for smokers' hutch and sit alone on a bench under a fabric covering. It’s the evening, shoes shiny in the dark, the winter cold nipping your fingers as you cross your arms around yourself. 
“Sorry,” you hear Sirius say, far away, getting closer, “I’m not trying to be a dick.” 
“You’ve never had to try very hard.” 
“Funny. Can I have one of those before I go blind?”
“You can’t be that desperate,” Remus laughs. 
“I can’t have what I’m actually craving,” Sirius says, a twist of feigned drama, just the tiniest smidge of genuineness somewhere threaded within as they make their way onto the veranda. “I didn’t know you could miss somebody like this.” 
It’s really sweet, and you’re usually more awkward, but for once you get it right. “Welcome to my world,” you say. No malice nor snark, you don’t have it in you when you’re with him, but certainly some irony. 
Sirius turns his head fast enough to make you wince. 
“I miss you like that every week,” you further. 
“No way?” He grins at you, fully grins at you, the goofy kind he’d normally only share with you when you’re in bed together and he’s forgotten to hide it. “Aw, baby, no way.” 
You’re swept up before you know it. He practically collapses into you, squeezing you, apologies whispered frantically into your ear as he stands and drags you with him. You hardly remember to stand, feeling at the slope of his back and the starched fabric of his jacket, assuring yourself that he’s really in your arms as you hug. 
“No way,” he says a third time, “what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would’ve picked you up.” Your spine creaks under his squeezing. 
He leans back. You follow him, not willing to part just yet. “I told Remus,” you explain. 
“Bastard.” 
“Should I go back in?” Remus asks. 
You’d say yes, because you’re not overly fond of being seen in love, but Sirius doesn’t answer, and then neither of you can as he takes your face into two hands to kiss you grandly. His smile is a rigid line against your lips, so wide you can feel his teeth as he struggles to keep a plain expression and kiss you as he wants to. Your back sags in relief. 
“Sweetheart,” he says, pulling away abruptly, “you must be so tired. Are you hungry?” His hands fall softly down your face to your shoulders. “Thank you for coming.” 
You startle. “You’re welcome, it’s– it was selfish, not totally for you, I missed you too much to wait two more weeks.” 
“Two weeks and two days,” he says. 
“That’s contrary,” you tease lightly. 
“No, the two days makes a fucking difference.” Sirius puts his arm behind your shoulder and turns you to Remus, almost like he’s showing you off. He opens his mouth to speak, but he loses the words, dropping his face to give you a kiss tight to your chin. 
It tickles. When you laugh, he does it again.
“Fuck, I’m glad you’re here. I was starting to lose it.”
“You could’ve asked me to come,” you say, beginning to trudge in time with him toward the restaurant doors. 
“Will you come with me for a bit?” he asks. 
Will you follow your lovely boyfriend for a bit on his nice tour eating good food and watching him at his best from the side stage? You tip your head to the side to ask for another ticklish kiss, which is enough answer for him. 
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