#just kind of reading a thing right now and the emphasis on the screaming to showcase the pain

[emberdew]

Be More Ghost Chapter 20: Voices in My Head

Summary:

A Be More Chill AU where Danny gets a Super Quantum Intel Unit Processor (or Squip) to help him become cool and win over Valerie, but things don't really go as planned.

Masterpost | AO3 Link | Word Count: 1,533

And there are voices all around but you can never mute the sound. They scream and shout, I tune them out, then make up my own mind. Might still have voices in my head  but now they’re just the normal kind.

Danny woke up in a hospital bed. He tried to get up, but immediately slumped back down as he winced in pain. 

“Feels like missing a part of yourself, doesn’t it?” 

“Kwan?” Danny turned to see Kwan in the bed next to his in a full-body cast. It was covered in signatures he could recognize from his classmates, including one that looked like a heart with Kwan, Dash, and Gregor’s names inside it. 

“Hurts like hell too. Be honest: what are they saying about me at school?” 

Danny grimaced, trying to come up with an answer that wasn’t ‘everyone thinks you’re a fruitloop’ but Kwan must have read it on his face.

“That bad?” 

“Sorry…” 

“Sorry? I’m finally free of that shiny happy hive mind! When I get outta here, the ladies are gonna learn to love the real Kwan,” Kwan paused as his eyes widened in realization, “and the dudes. Oh my god, I’m totally bi!” 

“Um, congrats,” Danny said. “Wait, your Squip’s gone? But how?” 

“Ask your buddy. The technogeek? He’s been by like, a ton, by the way. What is he, your boyfriend? No judgment, just curious. Totally bi now.”  

Danny’s face got redder and redder as Kwan kept talking. Tucker had visited him in the hospital? He was terrified of hospitals! There was no way-

“I’m sure some special someone… or someones will be lucky to have you, Kwan,” Tucker said as he entered the room.

“You think?” Kwan said hopefully. 

Tucker eyed the heart drawing on his cast and nodded, then pulled the hospital curtain closed so Danny and Tucker could have some privacy.  

Danny’s jaw dropped. Tucker was really here! “Tuck! What are you doing here? You’re terrified of hospitals!” 

Tucker gave him a shaky smile. “Yeah, but I had to come see you, dude!” 

“Thanks, that means a lot.” Danny smiled back. “What happened? All I remember is noise, and…”

“Oh man, it was genius! The Squips were communicating with each other, which means… When you consider the kind of high-frequency sonic disturbance needed to wipe a system that powerful…”

“Tucker, in English, please. My head still hurts.” Danny rubbed the side of his head for emphasis.

“Right, ah…” Tucker tilted his head as he figured out how to dumb it down. “Turns out you didn’t have to destroy every Squip. Just one. And the rest…” Tucker spread his fingers out like an explosion, “went boom!” 

Danny stared at Tucker for a moment, still reeling. 

“I don’t get it. After everything I did,” Danny looked away, unable to meet Tucker’s eyes, “you were still there for me. Why?” 

“I can’t take all the credit. Your dad can be shockingly persuasive.”

“My dad?” 

Like he was summoned, the door to the hospital room slammed open and Jack Fenton entered. Danny’s jaw dropped again when he saw his outfit. 

“Dad, you’re wearing…”

“Hey, Danno! Don’t look so surprised. I’m your father and I wear the pants around here thanks to Tucker’s new anti-chafing solution!” Jack patted Tucker on the back and almost knocked him over. 

Then Jack leaned down by Danny’s side and his joking grin morphed into a more serious expression. “You okay, Danny-boy?”

“Yeah, I’m doing great. Thanks, Dad.”

“I’m glad. But you are so grounded when you come back home.” Jack pointed at Danny sternly. 

Danny just laughed. “Yup, I deserve that.” 

“Now let’s get down to business, what’s the deal with this Valerie person? Do we need to have another awkward father-son talk?”

“Nooo,” Danny groaned. “I don’t think a relationship with her is a good idea right now. I really should apologize to her.” Danny wrung his hands. 

“Well, there’s always other girls out there…” Jack paused and his eyes darted to Tucker for a moment before continuing, “or boys!” 

“Dad!”  

“I’m just saying! Now, I’m gonna find out if they serve fudge at the cafeteria! Bye, son!” Jack waved as he bounced out of the room. 

“You’re really not going to ask Valerie out again?” Tucker asked.

“Nah, I kinda feel bad about pushing her when she clearly isn’t up for a relationship right now,” Danny rubbed the back of his neck.

The Squip was gone. He’d have to make up his own mind about things now, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Hey, Tucker?” Danny looked up and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw that Tucker had moved a lot closer. 

“Yeah?” Tucker grabbed his hand. Danny could see him blushing slightly. 

“Can I kiss you?” Danny could feel his own cheeks heating up too.

Instead of replying, Tucker leaned in and kissed him. His lips felt really warm. His heart raced. Danny wanted to stay like this forever.

“Freaking finally!” Kwan shouted through the curtain. 

Danny and Tucker broke off the kiss and laughed. 

___

The next day at school, Danny held Tucker’s hand tightly when he was cornered by the A-Listers almost immediately. 

“Heeey guys, about what happened-” Danny started.

“We’ve been looking for you, Fen-toenail,” Dash said, but his tone wasn’t as menacing as usual. In fact, it was weirdly friendly. “To say congrats on finally asking out the technogeek!” 

Danny looked at Tucker, bewildered. Why were the A-Listers being so nice to them? Tucker just shrugged.  

“Uh, thanks? But why?” 

“It’s crazy, but ever since that weird ghost attack at the ghost hunting presentation, I’ve felt really connected to you guys,” Paulina said. “Anyway, cya later, losers!” 

The A-Listers walked away and Danny spotted Sidney Poindexter giving him a thumbs up. Danny nodded to him and then noticed Valerie at her locker down the hall. Tucker must have seen her too because he let go of Danny’s hand and gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder. 

“Go for it, dude.” 

“Thanks, Tuck.” Danny leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek before walking to Valerie’s locker.

“Hey, Val,” Danny gave an awkward wave and tried to figure out what to say to her.

“I still remember how it felt,” Valerie sighed as she leaned against the lockers. “It was like you said. Like I’d never have to worry about anything again. It’s embarrassing to find out that deep down, I just want things to be easy.”

“Yeah but, who wants things to be hard?” Danny tried to give a reassuring smile but he wasn’t sure if he was succeeding. “Look, I ruined the ghost hunting presentation. I almost destroyed the school and maybe all of human civilization. And I’m sorry about being so pushy. I really should have respected your boundaries, especially after Halloween.” 

“I forgive you,” Valerie said. “Friends?”

“Friends.” Danny nodded.

“Now let’s hear about your new boyfriend.” 

Before Danny could stutter out a response to that, Sam crashed into their space while holding Tucker’s arm like a vice.

“I leave you idiots alone for a week and you finally start dating? I can’t believe this.” 

___

That evening, Danny laid on Jazz’s bed and recounted the events of the past week while Jazz took notes as she sat in her desk chair nearby. 

He grabbed his soda from her nightstand and frowned at the lukewarm temperature. A blue glow emanated from his hands as he tried to chill it with his new ice powers, eyebrows furrowing as he concentrated on the now-familiar coolness in his ghost core. The frost on the outside of the can seemed promising, but when tried to drink from it he realized the soda had frozen solid. Danny put the can back down.

He looked back at Jazz and saw her holding back a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I still need practice with that. Where was I?”

“At the hospital, something about Tucker?”

“Oh yeah,” Danny felt his cheeks heating, ”so, I kissed Tucker and now we’re dating. Sam was really mad that she missed it but she’s happy for us.”

“That’s great! Congrats.” Jazz smiled at him warmly.

“Um, thanks. And after everything that happened, the Squip is totally gone. No more voices in my head,” Danny tapped his temple, “well, now it’s just the normal kind, I mean.”

Jazz bit the eraser of her pencil, then walked up to her bookshelf. After rummaging around for a bit, she found the book she was looking for and placed it on Danny’s lap. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but you basically just described the plot of this book. I think a ghost might be messing with you, little brother.”

“Be More Chill?” The paperback was obviously used since it still had a Half-Price Books sticker on it. Danny turned it over and read the summary. Jazz was right, this was just like what happened to him, with the Squip and everything. “What?”

“Yeah, what ghost would do that, you think?” Jazz sat back down at her desk as she started scrolling through the ghost files on her computer. 

Danny thought about it for a second before his eyes flashed green with rage. 

“GHOST WRITER!”

The end.

[makedatmoneymayne]

✨✨Welcome to The Boys✨✨

--Y/N(I might give her a name later) is a store owner who loves what she does,BAKING. Ever since a young child she enjoyed it. Later on in her baking career, she started catering for shows like Supernatural, Dexter, and Grey's Anatomy. Now she's gotten a call from the one and only Eric Kripke to cater for the cast and crew of The Boys--

Y/N is a BLACK woman.☺️

🕺🏾MEET THE PEEPS🕺🏾

Y/N❤️

Owner of the shop

Bestie/Co-Owner of the store

Kapoia💗

Best Frenn/Co-Owner (technically)

Julaya💙

------------------------------------------------------------

Lovely Day✨

You and the girls, well more like just the girls you were terrified of riding bikes on hills. They decided that it was a perfect morning to get some air and ride y'all bikes to work for the day. Julaya swerves whilst Kapoia does wheelies trying to get you to join in. "Y/N do some tricks or sumn, you lookin like you being made to do this with how hard you're grippin the handles." Kapoia yells zooming off with Julaya laughing their asses off at you. "Girl hush, you know I'm scared of riding on these hills. I see the shop right up ahead lemme speed up."

You all slowly come to a slight stop as yall see a man laying on the bench right outside your shop reading a newspaper.

As yall inch closer you notice his face immediately. "Omg heyyyy Eric!" You scream running up to him for a hug. "Hey honey!" He catches you and lifts you up. You look over his shoulder and notice Julaya and Kapoia giving you a look of confusion. "IS THAT YO NIGGA Y/N!" Julaya yells still confused. Eric dies of laughter, "No dumbass, this was the first director of a tv show I catered for. Yall know the show Supernatural?" The girls start screaming and rambling, "come on inside please you're like a legend." You just shake your head walking into the shop right after Eric.

The Shop✨

------------------------------------------------------------

"So why are you here anyways E?" You ask confused by his presence. "Awww what happen to the nick name Eric pooh" Eric pouts at you "Chile that was a long time ago, things change" You say walking behind the counter already smelling the fresh coffee and pastries. "Anyway, I'm here to ask you to cater for my cast and crew again." "Oh reallyyy what's the show called?" You raised your eyebrow slightly seeing Julaya and Kapoia out your peripheral, listening in while still setting up. "Have you heard of a show called the boys?" The girls start screaming again nonstop. "Wait y'all what is it." They collectively gasp and Kapoia starts actin up. "Girl what the fuck what do you watch Virgin River or some shit?" She looks at you waiting for an answer and as you didn't answer she already knew. Julaya snickers and mumbles under her breath, "Aw hell naw". "Don't answer that, it's about these FINE ASS superheroes that are highkey corrupt." Kapoia says with heavy emphasis shoving a picture of the superheroes in question in front of your face out of their costumes.

"OH MY FUCKIN GOSH IS THAT JENSEN!?" Y/N yells loosing her mind. "Yeah I know right he got old on us, ladies still adore him though even labeled him "zaddy" ." Kapoia laughed so hard she started coughing before sayin, "I know thass right, alright I'm gonna leave my phone with you babe so I can keep baking for Eric" Eric always asks for 4 boxes of anything that's delicious. "Who's that fine ass man in the back middle" you ask. "Lemme see, oh that's Antony Starr. He's a cool guy kind of quiet , but cool." Eric says shrugging his shoulders walking out the door heading back to his car to go arrive on set. "Alright honey I got to go back to set before everyone shows up. Just bring it by 4pm." He yells walking out on his phone to warn his boys about you showing up with pastries showing pictures of you all.

------------------------------------------------------------

3:00pm hits as you and the girls hop in the delivery truck getting on the road. You're blasting System of a Down - B.Y.O.B, windows rolled down. "STILL YOU FEED US LIES FROM THE TABLECLOTH" You all scream in unison. A big black Suv pulls up next to you guys at red light but you pay it no mind. Their windows are rolled down waiting to surprise you guys with the next lyrics to the song. Jensen and Jack yell in unison with you guys, "Lalalalalalalalalala Ouuuu!" You snap your neck over aggressively trying to roll your window up from Jack and Jensen who were laughing hysterically. "Oh my gooossshhh roll up pleasseeee!" "JACK WE LOVE YOUUU AND ANTONY, Y/N THINKS YOUR SEXY" Julaya says from the passenger. You zoom off deciding to taking the long way to drop off the pastries.

------------------------------------------------------------

On Set✨

You walk through the trailers trying to get to the main room. A trailer door opens aggressively, Antony and Chace walk out laughing. You drag the two girls away quickly not wanting Antony to see you girls after Julaya's outburst. "Girl what the fuck you draggin us for they still saw yo foine ass. Had em droolin." Kapoia laughs. "Wait for real wait is the dress cute? Is the makeup eating?" "BREATHE GIRL we aint even delivery the food yet come on you look sexy." Julaya mentions walking away with the boxes. "Heyyyyy honey it smells so good and fresh." Eric says giving a tight hug like yall didn't just see each other 5 hours ago. "Alright alright let gooo and eat it let me know how it tastes, text me alright?" You turn around walking noticing Julaya and Kapoia has wandered off. "I told them they can chill before you walked up to us." You turn, "Aww how nice I'll text them to not take too much of those actors' time." You begin to text while walking away zoned in on your phone. Walking through the trailers you crash into a hard body head first. You grip your head immediately snapping back into reality, "Oh shit i'm so sorry." Looking up you make eye contact with Antony mother fucking Starr. "It's okay darling." He bites his lip not hiding him scanning her curvy body. You stare back him in the eyes noticing them glance down to your the lip you're now biting seductively. Snapping out of it, make the most random excuse which was, "Oh well um hi I've gotta go back to my shop." Looking over you see your girls. "YALL COME ON WE GOTTA BUSINESS TO RUN!" Once you see your girls jogging over to the car, you start up the car. "The fuck you in such a rush for? We own the fuckin place, we can open later." Kapoia says upsettingly putting her seatbelt on. Ignoring Kapoia you notice Julaya in the back lipstick smudge like hell. "GIRL WHO THE FUCK YOU MAKE OUT WITH" You ask looking in the rearview at her. "Huh what Jessie girl he was so fine in them pictures I couldn't help myself." Shaking your head you turn up your radio, blasting Frank Ocean - Solo with Antony on the brain.

-

--

---

End of chapter one❤️💗💙

-------------------------------------------

~~If anyone wants more let me knoww~~

~~i lowkey got bored and noticed barely anyone wrote Antony Starr/Homelander fics for black women so uh here~~

--If i messed up my bad im not really proof reading--

Enjoy☺️

[endy2eepy]

For the American girl asks 🖍️📌📕

- @remindey

Thank you so much for the asks! I've been screaming into a void begging for any kind of attention.

what is one thing you would change about the brand if you had any control over it right now?

I'd bring back all the original historical girls as they were and their 6 book collections and keep the focus of the company where it was always intended to be.

I'd put an emphasis on accessibility (more reasonable prices, offering audiobooks, ect) and also create more activity stuff (for being one of the most well known kids multimedia brands, it's really hard to find activity pages for them!)

I think I'd also try to get movies out for more of the historical characters instead of always making one for every GoTY.

which books do you tend to like the best: main series, beforever main series, short stories or mysteries?

This may actually be surprising given my focus on the historicals in my previous answer, but I like the books that don't focus on a story best! Both the nonfiction (care and keeping, smart girls guides, ect) and of course the few activity books I've been able to access!

If I have to choose something character based, it would be the "[girl]'s craft book*" or the "[girl]'s activity books" honestly.

I think I'd like the story books a lot better if they were offered in audio books (or if I had someone to read them to me lol) and I would probably like the original 6 book collections best because those align with the movies I know and love. I just can't with the words on the page and that's kinda a me problem not a the books problem!

favorite historical character outfit?

Samantha's bridesmaid and talent show outfits and all of kit's outfits!

[verishere]

Liam meets his dragon

This likely won't be understandable unless you have read this post and this post. Almost all italics you see are telepathic messages, and otherwise are emphasis.

Masterpost

She had always known the two leggeds were strange, it was why she was in this forest. Every two legged she met was strange. They were weird in some way, annoying or loud or silly or prideful. She didn't like them, except for the Makers, but they already had dragons. The rest were all strange, so while she would meet them if they found her, she wouldn't look for them. She was fine alone.

She stayed in this forest in the north, hiding away from anyone who wasn't explicitly looking for her, hunting the large animals the two leggeds had given names but that she had no need for, with mostly the occasional Maker for company. She thought today would be like that, when she sensed the Makers coming. She didn't like one of the Makers. His soul feels Wrong. His soul feels different from his voice. But she would endure him, to be with the other Makers. He wasn't that bad, just kind of weird.

But this new two legged that the Makers had brought to her was Wrong. His face was not his face. His voice was not his voice. His body was hidden behind a fake body. She had never seen any two legged do that before, and she didn't like it. All her instincts were screaming that it was a Bad Thing.

He was trying to speak to her, now. "Hi" he said shakily, reaching out his hand close to her face. She recoiled her whole body from him. That hand was Wrong. It was too small. His hand is bigger than that but this fake hand is smaller. It will not touch her.

This is Wrong.

Nothing about this was right. He is not who he is. He is wrong. The closer he'd gotten the more she saw it. He was not from Here. He was not from Now. He is Wrong. He looks Wrong. He sounds Wrong. His soul is Wrong. He is Wrong. She can't be with him. She can't be here. She wants to leave. She has to leave. She spread her wings and took to the skies. She flew away from the forest she hadn't left in years. She flew to the first mountain she saw. It was high up. Maybe it would be safe. He can't get that high without her seeing him first. She can be up here in the cold instead. She had her fire, after all. She didn't need the forest she loved.

She would be fine.

She saw one of the Makers flying to her. It was the Aelur one, she could tell. Only the Aelur one was fast enough to be here already. The Aelur one was her favorite. The Aelur one's soul felt similar to the way her own did, even though she was a Bromick dragon. The Aelur One's own dragon was also really nice and looked really good. She knew the Aelur one's name, of course. She knew all the names of all the two leggeds she'd met. Except the new one. She shuddered again. He was so Wrong he should not be, he could not be, he must-

What happened?

That thought carried with it so much confusion and worry. It was from the Aelur one. The Aelur one was now on the mountain with her, hugging her neck. She hadn't noticed.

She sent back what she could. She couldn't bring herself to create a full thought in the way a two legged would understand. She sent back her emotions. Her fear, her anxiety, her worry, her confusion, and overwhelmingly she sent the feeling of Wrong. Everything felt Wrong now and she sent it. The world didn't feel right anymore with the Wrong One in it.

The Maker seemed to know she wasn't going to fully think right now, so the Maker didn't fully think at her. This Maker sent her own confusion and worry, her surprise and empathy. This Maker didn't know why she had run away but knew she was scared and was here with her. The Maker kept hugging her neck.

...Freya kept hugging her neck.

She breathed. She breathed and felt Freya around her neck. Freya was small like all the two leggeds are, so she climbed up on top of her neck to hug it with her full body. It didn't hurt. She was gentle. She was nice. She was Right.

She kept breathing. It felt like all she could do was just stand there and breath. She was still looking out over the horizon, over at her forest, to make sure the Wrong One did not follow. She didn't think he would. The Makers would not let him. Surely they knew he was Wrong too? She had to ask. She had to fully think.

When sharing thoughts with other dragons, it's very easy. She just sent what she was thinking. The two leggeds thought differently though. She had to make the thought a little different before she sent it, and the two leggeds had to do the same for her. She couldn't send full thoughts earlier because she wasn't able to think enough to make the thought the way Freya could think it. She was better now. She wasn't alright, but she was better. That one was Wrong. You know he was Wrong?

Freya responded with a full thought again. With it came relief, likely because she could think in full thoughts again. I don't know anything wrong with him. He's nice to us.

That was entirely the wrong answer. Freya didn't seem to know what she meant. She didn't mean he's wrong. He is Wrong. He should not, could not, be. It is not that something bad happened to him or he did something bad, but that what he is should not be. She tried to send this over in the way she had to change her thoughts, but harder ideas like this were hard to send over that way. With another dragon it would be easy, but with a two legged it was hard. No. Not wrong, Wrong. The way he is is not the way he should be. That he is is Wrong. With this she sent her full revulsion at him. Not him as a person, but the idea of him. She didn't know him as a person, she only knew that he was when he should not.

Freya's arms and legs tightened around her neck for a second, but she grunted and Freya remembered herself. Freya sent her reply, with a hint of apology but still mostly filled with confusion. Sorry. Do you mean because he's not from now?

This was closer, at least. Freya still didn't get it all, but got some of it. She shook her head gently, mirroring the two legged gesture but being sure Freya did not fall off her neck. There is more to the Wrong but that is part of the Wrong. He looks Wrong. He sounds Wrong. His soul feels Wrong. Like he Pretends he is not what he is. I can't be touched by Pretend, but he tried to touch me with the Pretend. Do you not see the Pretend? Or hear it?

Freya nodded against her neck. Her next thought came with a sense of understanding. We made dragons to feel and see more than we can. You can see and hear and feel what we can't. I don't know what you're talking about, but I can ask him if he does.

Her whole body shuddered at the thought of a Maker being near the Wrongness. She liked the Makers, even the slightly Wrong Maker was nice at times. The Wrong One should not be with them. He should not be with anyone. He should not be.

She sent this full set of emotions to Freya, without words. Freya laughed out loud, like this was a joke. It wasn't a joke. It was bad. But Freya laughed, and sent her reply. He has been nice with us since we met him. He won't hurt me, and couldn't if he tried, and if there is something Wrong with him we can fix it.

She nodded her head, slow both for Freya's sake around her neck and also out of apprehension. Didn't two leggeds nod slowly when they were scared but would say yes? She thought they did. She'd have to ask later if she could. Not right now, though. Right now she had to focus on the Wrong One.

Freya climbed off her neck, spread her wings, but didn't fly off yet. She sent another thought. Are you okay being alone right now?

She nodded slowly again.

Freya looked uncertain, but nodded. She almost flew away this time, even tensing to jump, but she looked back at the last second. If it takes me a long time to come back, do you want me to send someone? Another Maker?

She nodded slowly again. She really hoped slowly nodding meant what she thought it did. She knew it meant something, but she wasn't sure if it's uncertainty or not. If it wasn't uncertainty then she didn't know what she was saying to Freya, which might be a problem.

...Okay, she had to ask. Does nodding slowly mean. She sent with that thought the uncertainty she felt, and hoped Freya would get the point.

Freya laughed again, gave a thumbs up which she knew meant yes, and finally flew away.

She curled up as if to sleep, fully aware she wasn't going to. The memory of that Wrongness would not let her sleep, not until she understood it or spent so long awake her body could do nothing but sleep.

She curled up atop the mountain, alone with her thoughts.

Not long after, she saw Freya flying to her again. She wasn't certain it was Freya this time, with her so far out, but the two legged approaching was moving quicker than most two leggeds did.

Once she was closer it was definitely Freya, as it was clear just how fast she was going. This time, she did notice Freya landing on the mountain. Freya put her wings away, which she still thought it was weird that the two leggeds could do that, and walked over to her. She lowered her face to be eye level with Freya.

It was interesting, looking at a two legged like this. Her head was the size of Freyas entire abdomen. Being at eyesight with Freya almost had her head on the ground, from her perspective. That that is the height that Freya just sees with all the time still astounded her. How did two leggeds get anything done when they can see so little? How did they hunt?

Freya put her hand on the end of her snout, and smiled. I know what the Wrong was.

Her whole body sagged with relief. If a Maker, any of them really but especially her favorite, knew what the Wrong was and was still smiling after, then it could not be terrible. Or if it was terrible, they must have fixed it. Maybe it was terrible and it was fixed, or maybe it wasn't really that terrible, but it felt really, really terrible, like a bone getting stuck between teeth, except a lot worse.

Freya saw her reaction and visibly held back a laugh. Two leggeds can use magic to make a Pretend look and voice. So we can look and sound different than we really are. He isn't from Now, which you felt, because he travelled to Now from the not Now, using the sun. We can do that too, I've done it. But because he's not from the Now, when we end up in when he was from, the not Now, he doesn't want some of us to know that that him from before he travelled is the same as him after he travelled. He doesn't want some people to know that those two are the same person. So he used magic to put on that Pretend, to make him look like a different person. It'd be fine for some of us to know, he thinks, but just in case he decided he doesn't want anyone to know. So we didn't even know he had that Pretend, and we couldn't warn you. But if you use your magic you can see completely through the Pretend, and then he won't be Wrong. Did you understand all that, and do you want me to teach you?

She thinks she understood most of that, except for why he wouldn't want people to know he is the same person in the future. It's strange that Freya couldn't make the thought that a dragon would understand that meant future. She could say not Now, but she could not say future, when talking to a dragon, even though she could say future when talking to a fellow two legged. She can say future, though, while talking to a two legged. Or at least she could say things like later and tomorrow. She wasn't sure if she could say future specifically. She thinks from what Freya said he is a little bit beyond what either of those two words usually mean, but they would have made more sense than not Now. Strange.

Still, even if she didn't understand why Freya said it that way, and didn't understand why he would want to hide behind the Pretend, she saw that Freya was alright with it. It is possibly something that she can't understand. There are a lot of those. Even if she can understand it, she won't right now. She needs to know how to see through the Pretend and make the Wrong go away. She nodded.

Freya stepped back, and put on her own Pretend. This time it wasn't as Wrong, even though she couldn't see through the Pretend, because she knew who was underneath it. It was her favorite two legged. Also, the soul didn't feel Wrong like the Wrong One's did. She wondered why that was. The face was still Wrong, though. Not as Wrong as the Wrong One's, but that is because she knows what the face underneath is, which she didn't for the Wrong Ones. She just knew there was one, which was worse. For Freya, the Pretend face was still a female two legged face, but it was the other kind of two legged. She knew the names of the kinds but didn't care to use them. Freya was usually the little furred kind, now she was the all furred kind. Other than that the differences were small. Her hand was now slightly bigger, her legs slightly shorter, her head slightly bigger, and her eye colors were entirely different. It was still Wrong, but she was able to see exactly where the difference was, so it wasn't as bad.

Freya sent over a thought, but without words. It was a memory of when Freya first used her own magic to look through a Pretend face. She had used it because Aegir had been trying to sneak away with her food, under the guise of another two legged. With that memory she could do it for herself.

She roared at Freya, and she saw through the Pretend. She saw Freya underneath, and only a small ghostly flickering image of the Pretend. She couldn't make that go away, but she didn't need to. It wasn't Wrong anymore. She sees her friend now. That's all she needed.

Freya seemed scared. Right, her roar. She knew it was different for two leggeds, since they didn't have a proper roar, but for a dragon using your roar to use magic was better than just using magic. Now that she'd done it once she thinks she doesn't need to use the roar to get rid of the Pretend, but for the first time she did it she wanted to use her roar.

She didn't realize it would scare Freya. She should have warned her. What did she do now? She didn't know what to do when someone was scared. She'd never been around a two legged who was scared without another two legged there to help. What did Freya do when she was scared then?

Oh, hugs. She took a step forward, lowered her head again, and wrapped her neck around Freya's body. By the end of it she used the perfect amount of her neck's length for her head to end up just below Freya's face. She looked up at her and thought sorry. I forgot to warn you.

Freya laughed and petted her forehead. It's alright. I probably should have expected that, honestly.

She took her head back and unwound herself, because bending the neck that far for too long was painful. She looked to Freya again and asked the question she'd been asking herself over and over again, while she'd been waiting on Freya to come back. Why did you bring him to me to begin with? She made sure the question did not come with an accusatory feeling, just a feeling of confusion and curiosity.

Freya smiled and sent her answer, filled with no small amount of confusion of her own. He said in his not Now it is harder to meet a dragon than it is in our Now, so he had never met any before. We took him to you because we were close and I thought you'd maybe like to meet someone new. I didn't know about the Pretend, or that you would see the Pretend as Wrong. Do you still want to see him, now that you can see through the Pretend?

She slowly nodded.

Freya laughed again, and flew away without a word, presumably to find the Wrong One who was not actually Wrong, apparently. That he was not from Now and not from Here might not be that bad if she could see through all the other Wrong things about him.

Less than two minutes later, she saw two shapes rising from her forest. It was probably Freya and the Wrong One. It took longer for them to fly over than it did for Freya before, likely because she was accommodating for him being slower. Freya could make him faster by making the wind push him, but she guessed he wasn't used to that.

They landed, and she was right, it was them. She saw the Wrong One again and remembered why she flew away. He wasn't as close this time though and she knew why he was Wrong. She didn't know the Truth of him, but she knew why he was Pretending. It helped.

She decided to try the magic without the roar. She wanted to see if she could and also if she was the first dragon the Wrong One had met, her roar would make him very, very scared. She pulled the magic from her soul to the outside of her body without moving. It made a little fire flicker around her scales, because she wasn't used to this new magic. It worked though. His Pretend became a flicker as Freya's had before, which she only just noticed Freya had taken off her pretend entirely while she had been away. The Wrong One's pretend still flickered, though. He was keeping it up so Freya could not see the Truth. She didn't know why, but Freya didn't seem to think it was a problem, so she didn't either.

Without the Pretend he looked much better. All the Wrongess of his face and voice was gone, so looking at the other parts that she had thought were Wrong made it less. Him not being from Here or Now didn't even feel slightly Wrong. The only thing that felt Wrong still was his soul. It felt different from the Truth that she did not know. It was not very different, though. The least favorite Maker's soul felt much more Wrong than this one's soul did. She could endure this to meet him properly.

He blinked up at her, still scared. It was like watching one of the two legged hatchlings meet a dragon for the first time. She hadn't seen a grown two legged act like this, but maybe it wasn't because the hatchlings were small and young, but because it was the first time they'd seen a dragon. She knew she was big, and knew how instincts worked in smaller things. Animals ran from her just because she was big. That seemed to happen to two leggeds as well, until they got used to dragons.

She made herself smaller like she did for the hatchlings, bending her legs and lowering her head to be just above the height of the formerly Wrong One. She didn't go down to his height, because that seemed to make the hatchlings even more scared for some reason. She didn't know what it would do to him, but she was going to act like he was a scared hatchling and hope it worked.

In the corner of her eye, Freya was trying not to laugh. She probably recognized the behavior as her behavior around hatchlings, so if this was her friend it probably looked demeaning. She didn't know why two leggeds laugh when their friends get demeaned, since they only do if it's slight demeaning, and more demeaning they get mad. It didn't make sense, but that was just another reason why the two leggeds were weird.

He glanced at Freya then took a step forward. She could sense there were thoughts going between Freya and the formerly Wrong One, as she tried to guide him on how to greet her when he probably didn't know how to make his thoughts fit in her head. He kept walking, slow, careful steps as if afraid she would react to him being closer. She recognized this was probably due to what happened last time he had tried to come closer to her, so she made sure to stay utterly still except for her breathing. She'd recognized early on that keeping completely still, even stilling her breathing momentarily, made the hatchlings very scared. Probably it looked like she was about to pounce.

He finally reached close to her, glanced at Freya again, and put his hand on the side of her snout. She lowered her face down to his, looking him in the eye. The Pretend still flickered in the air around him, real and yet not, but she ignored it. From this point she could feel his soul better. It feels more like hers does than any other two legged's, even Freya's. She might like this one, then. If only she could get over the slight Wrongness.

He eventually said "I'm the Watcher," finally revealing to her why his soul still felt kind of Wrong. He hides some of his person. That is not his real name, and it's probably not the only thing he hides, based on what she feels from his soul. With most people, including other dragons, she could feel their familial connections and such, but she could not with him. His soul feels wrong because he hides himself, likely for the same reason he put on the Pretend face and voice. The name is a Pretend name, too. She didn't know why, but Freya didn't object, so she wouldn't. Once he learned to talk to her, she would ask him why. But for now she simply accepted it as another thing that made the two leggeds strange.

[oiblackestsheep]

Is it possible to find relevant correlations between one's MBTI and one's birth chart? It's like guessing one's MBTI type simply by reading one's complete birth chart.

MBTI x Astrology

I'm thinking you might be able to answer that just as well, if not better, than me! Personally, I think that astrology gives you a way more nuanced view of who somebody is because there are so many more combinations of signs that apply to a single person that most people don't know about, which is why they discredit it so often as being fake. The whole "there aren't only 12 kinds of people in the world just because there's 12 signs" argument (which is ironically used for MBTI too) is a pretty bogus argument once you actually learn how much deeper astrology goes than just your sun sign. You've also got your rising sign, moon sign, all the other planets, not to mention aspects between them, or astroids or nodes.

So, in short, I think you can find ways to connect them, although astrology relies on a lot more interpretation that you might find many different birthcharts that can lead to same MBTI types.

But yeah anyway lets skip to the part where I look for an excuse to show you my birthchart so we can talk about it!

Aquarius placements: AC/rising, Uranus, Jupiter

Aquarius being an air sign that's all about new things, new ideas and technology, screams iNtuition in general to me, but especially Ne, because Ne loves novel possibilities. Having 3 unique placements here pretty much triples this energy. The rising sign being Aquarius makes this a key part of who I aspire to be, and having Uranus (a co-ruling planet of Aquarius) conjunct (right now top of) my AC amplifies this quirky energy even more. Then you've got Jupiter, the planet of luck, expansion, and for lack of better words, good vibes lmao, also in Aquarius, which puts an emphasis on the positive attributes of Aquarius. Because Aquarius is also associated with SUDDEN change and revolution, I would say it's more likely someone would be a perceiver, if the have a lot of placements in this sign (unless they lean more into the Saturnian Aquarius energy, instead of the Uranian Aquarius energy like yours truly).

Possible types: xNTP, xNFP

Aries placements: Sun, Saturn, Venus

Aries is a fire sign, and the first sign of the zodiac, so it is often referred to as the sign of self. This is because the first thing we all do when we begin life is become acquainted with ourselves and who we are. I said in a previous post that it actually makes sense that I could be an xxTP as an Aries, because one potential VICE of heavy Aries placements is selfishness, which sounds a lot like low/inferior Fe, which is focused on OTHER people's feelings. Having Venus in Aries also strikes me as being very low Fe, because one of my ways of expression love an affection is actually fighting with you (which Aries loves to do lmao), which can VERY EASILY become toxic (espcially since Venus is in detriment in Aries, ie, it does NOT like being there), but in its best form, it can manifest as being proactive in having difficult conversations with your loved ones because it shows that you're willing to fight with them to reach the resolution on the other side, even if it feels unpleasant in the moment. And lastly, Saturn is the planet of hard work, restrictions, playing the long-game, and NOT cutting corners in order to receive your rewards. It ALSO does not like to be in Aries, because Aries is impatient and wants to take action NOW. This can also imply a perceiving type who prefers to jump into action without a plan.

Possible types: xNTP, xSTP

Taurus placements: Mercury, Moon

Taurus is an Earth sign, and known for being careful, consistent, and sometimes stubborn. Mercury being the planet of communication in Taurus implies very CAREFUL communication. This will be somebody who does not want to speak until they are 100% sure of what they want to convey to other people, and dislike being wrong. This CAN be a judger-sounding trait, and it's definitely a possibility, but I can also see this as an introverted-judging-cognitive-function-thing (Ji), which would actually be high Ti or Fi, bringing us back to a perceiving type. This is because Taurus is generally a pretty introverted sign and can do a lot of subjective deliberating. The moon is exalted in Taurus (it likes being there), and being the planet of your deep emotions in a sign that is not known for being super emotional (like all Earth signs, shout out to your Virgo moon, Suo!), it creates an interesting combination of not FEELING super strong emotions, but being aware and confident of the emotions and opinions you DO have. This can also err on the side of being stubborn in some opinions, once your mind has been made up, which I can definitely be - BUT the catch is that they tend to take their time forming their opinions over a long time. But yeah, once their mind has been made up, it's hard to change it. This sounds a lot like an inferior feeling function to me.

Possible types: ExTJ, IxTP

I could go on with the other placements, but I honestly think this is already an information overload, so I'll just leave it at this for now. We should do more with this kind of stuff, though, it's super interesting!

[thelivingautomaton]

so lately i've been curing my brainrot by listening to audiobooks while i crochet, the result being that i have gotten really, really into the wheel of time (which i've previously bounced off of like, 3 separate times) and also been tweeting about it. anyway i have finished the first book and simply must scream into the void about it

jesus, okay, where do i even begin. let's talk about characters

so i KNEW that mat was gonna be The Character Of All Time going right in, i am self-aware enough about what kinds of blorbos i enjoy (read: cocky roguish guy who is actually a sopping wet cat of a man and uses snark to obscure deep-seated angst and/or doubt in himself, his identity, and his goodness). and i do have an affection for mat at this point

although ngl it kind of totally went over my head when i last tried to read these books that he is also? kind of a dick this early on? though to be fair he was having his soul eaten by an evil dagger for like, two-thirds of the book

that being said. what i did NOT expect was for the dark horse surprise contenders for Character Of All Time to be nynaeve and rand

nynaeve is literally the funniest, pettiest bitch ever and i love her SO MUCH. literally what if you were a preternaturally gifted healer and given a position of authority at a very young age so you had a complex about it, but that complex manifests itself as a bullheaded stubborn drive to Take Care Of Your People, and you are ready to throw hands with every magic lady Jedi on the way because you are fueled by Pure Unadulterated Spite at all times

every time she'd try to start a catty slap fight with moiraine and moiraine would just, like, sip her tea unbothered? now THAT'S comedy

sidenote, dear lord do these characters drink a lot of tea. do they have coffee in this nebula. do they have new world crops. i feel like someone must have mentioned potatoes. where was i

oh my god, rand. RAND. literally WHAT IF you were a farmboy from the ass-end of nowhere and you get pulled into this fantastical adventure like a hero from legend, but you spend 700 pages having all of your assumptions about the world and yourself systemically questioned and tested and broken down. and the whole time you're holding onto the hope of going home and going back to the way things were, until you experience the crushing weight of the Hero's Journey and the fact that you can never really go home (read: go back to the simple life and the way things used to be) ever again

EXCEPT!!! THAT THERE IS ALSO WONDER AND EXCITEMENT AND CURIOSITY TOO!!! like, obviously i loved all the times that rand and the other farm kids are agog seeing different parts of the world (especially the cities -- dude, i LOVE the setup for caemlyn) but literally one of my favorite scenes was when rand is on the spray sitting at the top of the mast and he just starts laughing aloud for the freedom and joy of it all. the journey will be long and terrible and arduous but it's so important to show that there are bright moments on the way too. i'm going to puke

also there's a few moments between rand and the dark one (ba'alzamon? bro idk how anything is spelled) that were so *chef's kiss*, like rand telling him "i belong to myself" or in their big fight when he screams that he'll never be a hound for the dark one. more generally i love the emphasis placed on the importance and power of people taking a stand, even if they know it's futile. ESPECIALLY if they know it's futile. (there was this line from moiraine like "the wheel weaves as the wheel wills, but i refuse to believe it weaves an end to all hope". waugh)

also i know the reveal that rand can channel was telegraphed from a mile away but i ain't even mad about it because i feel like the setup was done so nicely. you get a scene of moiraine explaining to nynaeve about how channeling feels the first time you do it (i.e. you have the greatest need you've ever known, then a week later your body has a delayed reaction that feels like a weird flu), you get rand and mat escaping whitebridge via improbable lightning strikes, then you get rand coming down with a weird flu. like, idk, i like it when creators set up dominoes and i as a reader can SEE the dominoes getting set up and i get to go like, hoohoohoo, can't wait for those to get knocked down!

unsurprisingly since rand and nynaeve are my two favs i also am enamored with their dynamic. maybe it's because you're in rand's head the most in this book, and so it's the closest you as a reader are to seeing a straightforward platonic relationship between a male and female character? but okay like, listen. nynaeve is the FIRST PERSON (maybe the only person rn??) rand shares his fears with re: tam not being his dad and him not knowing who he is. and nynaeve immediately reassures him that it doesn't matter, she saw tam and kari with him and she KNOWS they loved him like any father and mother

or like, the scene when rand overhears lan and nynaeve having their whole Dramatic Star-Crossed Romance (which is like, cool, but also, can't wait for lan to get over his TTRPG Tragic Backstory [affectionate] and kiss her already), and the chapter ends with a line like "Rand closed his eyes. He did not think the Wisdom would like it if he saw her cry." good GOD!

how old are these kids supposed to be anyway. like i know nynaeve is older by a few years and she's...24? so are the rest 18-20ish? oh my god you guys, they're KIDS

i'm sure i will have more thoughts about the other characters as these books progress and shit continues to pop off and Get Funky (especially relevant vis a vis perrin going full wolf mode and egwene learning how to be an aes sedai). also i love how often it's repeated that people from the two rivers are The Most Stubborn People Alive, and how rand holds onto that as part of his identity (re: envisioning hardy two rivers soil)

now let us talk about the world because OH MY GOD

one of the things that definitely stuck with me was the secret hidden lore re: "this is actually post-post-post apocalyptic earth", cf. thom telling stories about "lenn flying to the skies in an eagle made of fire" and "salya walking among the stars", because it is so fucking insane as a concept and jordan does it REALLY WELL, in the sense that any references to "our" earth are so oblique and indirect that they're barely comprehensible, which is as it should be if these books take place a whole two ages later

but it's also such a perfect excuse/reason to deliberately echo and make homage to myths and stories that we as readers are familiar with, the most obvious being the legend of artur hawkwing (and also half of our main cast having arthurian-esque names). something something george lucas saying that it's like poetry, it rhymes

the part that really dropped me flat on my ass though was when perrin and egwene and elyas are leaving the tinkers and elyas LITERALLY recites anglican catechism at them ("as it once was, so shall it ever be, world without end"), reader i screamed

that being said. i do kind of wish there was more Weird Religion Bullshit. i mean it makes sense that the cosmology and people's theological beliefs are pretty universal (given that it's a Canonical Big Deal Historical Event that the embodiment of evil punched a hole in reality and made magic evil and fucked up for men forever), but like. where is the variety! where is the spice! where are the religious freaks! give me religious freaks!!!

however this is ameliorated by the fantastic variety in cultures/societies/stories, and also the overarching theme of "the world has moved on from what it once was". like, everything with loial (also strong contender for Supporting Character Of All Time) talking about the groves and how different the world is from what he'd read about in the stedding! the entire scene with the green man (which still makes me feel completely fucking insane, just btw)! perrin and egwene at the ruined statue of artur hawkwing! moiraine telling the people of emond's field about manetheren! WHEWWWWWWWWWW

like, it really does give you this sense of history and loss. but also i hope that as the books go on it gets more into, like, "okay, the world has moved on and nothing will ever be as it once was. so what are we going to do with the world we have? how are we going to keep it safe and let it grow?"

sidenote: the tragedy of listening to the audiobooks is that i can't flip back to look at the map or the glossary if i start getting a little lost 😭 help i just want to get everything Right in my head

i also feel like jordan does a fantastic job of like...getting the reader further and further into the more fantastical or impactful elements of the world step by careful step and pacing out how he escalates the characters' importance to the world. does this make any sense.

like, baerlon -> whitebridge -> caemlyn is a steady stepwise escalation in Experiencing A City. and the one-two-three combo of loial explaining ta'veren to rand + rand overhearing a farmer gossip about queen morgase and her family + the repeated references to seeing the false dragon in caemlyn all leads perfectly into rand falling into the garden and the entire chapter with elayne and gawyn and morgase. (side note: this chapter was fucking incredible, good god i am obsessed with royal political bullshit.) OR having all these moments of the characters with moiraine to establish her nature, then providing an immediate contrast with the introduction of elaida as the "other" aes sedai. DOES THIS MAKE ANY SENSE AT ALL. it's dominoes, baby

okay i have a few other miscellaneous thoughts

i fucking love how unapologetically trope-y these books are. it is so crunchy. not just vis a vis the hero's journey, but also, like, all the repeated motifs? spooky symbolic dream sequences? excerpts from in-universe writings and poetry? Foreshadowing Via Fortune-Telling? chef's kiss

also, dude, i love that robert jordan really dropped all of the fucking symbols for the next who knows how many books into three paragraphs via min. he knew the girlies would go crazy for this. AND HE WAS RIGHT

same goes for the whole concept of ta'veren, like i know on the surface it's kind of a goofy concept that you are Assigned Main Character At Birth by the wheel/the pattern, but also like. this man knew people on tumblr would be obsessing over characters doomed/haunted by narratives 30 years after these books were published. his third eye was OPEN

in a bizarre way so much of the story elements and pacing feels like a d&d campaign. mat is the rogue who picks up stuff he really shouldn't. perrin is a barbarian that accidentally took a level in druid. lan is the dm's npc blorbo with the intricately detailed tragic backstory that gets dumped on the players all at once (this is affectionate i swear). do you see what i'm saying

hi i love these books a lot already and i can't wait for them to get even more insane. thanks 4 ur time

[enteringdullsville]

Underrated Real Time Fandub Lines 2: Subspace Dubbed Over

“That’s one Reddit upvote right there!”

I had to read the transcript for this humdinger, said as Wario turns Zelda into a trophy.

“Woah! That was Wario and he won…”

That’s probably the best way to cap off Wario’s first appearance.

“My name’s ‘Pit’, like under the arm?”

“Exactly like that.”

There’s a lot of times where someone says something and somebody else’s response is drowned out, such as Palutena’s incredibly blunt response to Pit’s question.

“That’s the weirdest airplane.”

It deserves a prize.

“AAAAUUGHH! I remember when that happened!”

Wasted opportunity not to say “Looks like Team Rocket’s jacking off again”.

“ARM!”

“…Ow.”

The Halberd’s sole line of dialogue, coupled with Fox’s hilarious nonplussed reaction.

“What are we, some kind of Subspace Emissary?”

Because we’re…Super Smash Bros!

“Take that, TUUURTLEEE!”

It’s the weird added emphasis that seals the deal.

“You can’t shoot Donkey Kong!”

DK, as he’s actively being shot at.

“I don’t like the cut of your jib!”

DK, you’ve known Bowser for how long now?

“I did that on purpose!”

As the dub goes on, it becomes obvious that Wario’s the army’s most competent general.

“Am I a f***ing draaagon?”

I like to think the only reason Ray talks like that is because Holly’s voice is shot from Wario’s last scene.

“Tha…at’s right.”

“Pokémon Tower! Not Trainer, Tower!”

“Now I have it-ZELDA.”

Any time the characters acknowledge the character screens.

“I’m back with my GUN THAT KILLS PEOPLE!”

…As opposed to…

“I DO MAGIC, KILL JACKED UP KIDS, I’LL PROBABLY FLY NEXT!”

Porky, seconds before Ness sends him flying.

“I thought that guy was supposed to be Mario, bye!”

This wouldn’t be nearly as funny if Wario wasn’t screaming his name nonstop.

“Did you have lunch today, R.O.B.?”

“No, R.O.B., I didn’t have lunch today!”

The delivery on R.O.B. 2 is what kills me.

“It’s like-a the better pizzuh.”

R.O.B. lets his one guest appearance in Mario Kart go to his head.

“Why is it purple?”

“Because purple’s my favorite color, dumbass.”

“It’s a baaad color!”

“Stupid idiot.”

“Red’s better!”

This’ll be important later on...

“Dude, cookoldry-never mind.”

Hey, reference!

“Nyehh, oh, I’m not even supposed to be here!”

Another gem from “Bozo Dubbed Over” that doesn’t get enough appreciation.

“AH HOPE HE’S DEAD FOREVER!”

I quote this constantly.

“We’re Kirby.”

That’s oddly daunting coming from a bunch of Waddle Dees.

“Whoa, deja vu!”

“It’s happening again!”

Again, I quote Dedede constantly, intonation and all.

“It’s because I’m so scared that I did it!”

Luigi’s voice is just the best thing.

“F***ing, f***ing, f***ing, f***…I GOTTA WIN!”

Wario gets beat up so hard it causes him to talk normally.

“I HOPE THAT GUY’S NOT GETTING JACKED OFF.”

My favorite version of the episode’s running gag.

“HEY, LISTEN!”

Navi’s sole line of dialogue, and she’s inebriated.

“OHHH, that smells so bad! Did you do that?”

“…Yes.”

I adore the quick, off handed way Link says it.

“Who goes there? It’s me!”

Out of context, that’s an incredibly cool one liner.

“He speaks!”

Somebody in the background, talking about Pikachu.

“I think I found the computer room.”

IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN!

“That looks like OH, IT’S ME! KIRBY!”

Mar switching characters mid sentence.

“I think this guy’s about to kill you.”

This line plagues my mind and I love it.

“I killed you.”

“I ALSO KILLED YOU.”

Bowser and Bowser, Bowser’s Inside Bowser.

“I’m here again! BOWSER! I GOTTA WIN!”

Must be a Subspace Army thing.

“Ahh, it’s me! Zelda!”

“Oh no! It’s him! Zelda!”

Bonus points for being the second or third intelligible things Peach says.

“They killed Link! It’s so funny she died!”

‘Zelda’ kind of sucks at his job.

“Oh, I know this guy. He jump on me.”

“Dude, you ever noticed I’m f***ing green?”

“I’m here too; f***!”

“I’m a f***ing animal!”

Yoshi in general is gold.

“EEEYYYYYYYY-”

“WHO THE F*** IS THIS GUY?!”

Kirby’s very abrupt and dynamic entrance on the Wariomobile.

“Well! It’s a good thing I fixed my roof and got Bowser outta here!”

I love the implication that all the branching timelines are literally occurring back to back.

“WE’RE DOING IT AGAIN! WE HATE YOU!”

Bowser takes a page out of Dedede’s book.

“That’s my girlfriend!”

“Don’t kill your girlfriend! That’s my job!”

“I DON’T KNOW HER! KILL HER!”

“That’s my job!”

Same two characters, different princesses.

“Tuck my hand on my head! Hope my hair isn’t gay…”

“His hair is so stupid.”

The first line is funny enough coming from this version of Marth. Ike, however, I’m only just hearing his aside for the first time.

“YOU HAVE TO STAY HERE. YOU HAVE TO STAY HERE. I CAN’T. I’M GONNA BLOW UP, DUDE. YOU HAVE TO STAY HERE. I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE.”

“My main goal is to blow up!”

Tower, you’re pure evil.

“Beep, boop. We’re opening the doors! Come on in!”

“I don’t know what they were talking about, but that’s okay.”

The Wall-E Squad provides some of the series’ best nonsequiturs.

“Hey, you stop that, dumbass!”

Not so funny now, is it R.O.B.?

“AWW, F***! IT’S JET THE HAWK!”

That would be his cousin.

“UGNHF.”

This guy’s about to…

“Now I’m a robot!”

I’ve got nothing. Sam’s incredibly proud delivery is just great.

“How’s the weather up there?”

Pikachu also gets a good burn in.

“I BET MY PENIS IS REAL SMALL!”

Hello to you too, Falcon.

“WAAGH! WAAGH! WAAGH! WAAGH!”

“Get the F*** OUT!”

Falco cares not for Diddy’s eccentricities.

“Okay, I’m-I’m sick of this.”

MK serves as a great voice of reason to the crew.

“I’M A VERY SPECIAL BOY.”

“That is un dog!”

“Iiii’m a furry.”

Because dogs aren’t furries!

“Whoo!”

“What the heck’s going on down there?”

“Me!”

“I’m also here!”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

Our heroes.

“It’s okay, we’re almost done.”

“…Really?”

“Kept ya waiting, huh?”

A golden bit of timing right there.

“I’m in disguise now!”

Sheik, making no attempt to hide their distinctive voice.

“I’m in love with Samus, actually now!”

“I’M NOT!”

“No, not as much as I am, look-”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“No.”

You’d think being his species’ only dude would teach the Gan-Man some respect.

“This guy’s so horny, let’s kill him!”

R.O.B.’s immediate response to the above.

“That’s your f***ing name? That’s stupid!”

Falcon to R.O.B.. Three guesses as to who voices Falcon.

“THAT BETTER NOT BE THE RIDDLE GUY BEHIND US!”

It’s totally the riddle guy behind you.

“I’M THE BEST RACE CAR! F*** YOU!”

Kirby’s freaking pissed.

“My Michael was muted.”

That’s the most adorable way to refer to a microphone.

“You can’t kill me I’m so much too powerful f*** you to death.”

The lack of commas both deliberate and optimal.

“There shalt be no jacking off today…JACK ME OFF!”

“OOHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“I’m jacking off!”

The climax of the dub, as narrated by Falco.

“Now I’m back alive. WHYYY!?”

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU TWICE!”

Doing things in twos is just the Dedede way.

“AH NEED AH MONSTAH TO CLOBBAH DAT DERE PENIS!”

You like his quote?

“Wario’s gotta lose!”

Luigi finally grows a pair.

“MEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOW”

The last intelligible thing we hear, presumably Jigglypuff, before Penny banishes everyone for their hubris.

[daftbitch]

Hi! NSA here! Sorry for the radio silence, I've been going through it in the mental health department. Plus work and all. I haven’t been able to write at all even though I want to. I hope you’ve been well despite, you know (gestures to the general state of the world)

Omg though pinning a post to call out to me u///u I’m flattered!

You wanted to hear my thoughts about Doe's Nekomamushi fic, and I will share them now! I did read it, but I was so FED that I wanted to devote the proper energy to address what I all liked about it, and I was far too tired to do that this past few weeks. And just kind of… not in the mood to engage with something positive when my brain is in the pits. But now I am here.

A while ago, someone sent Doe an ask referring to the drabbles I sent you and saying she had competition–I wanted to scream! Don’t compare us! T_T She’s got far more experience under her belt! The Nekomamushi commission is proof enough of that. Just incredible work.

Here’s my thoughts:

The intro is masterfully set up. Just paragraph after paragraph of vivid imagery of the location and the sensations of running through a tangled wood and the thrill of it all. Like 14 paragraphs before we even see Nekomamushi, and none of it is boring. I’m like hitting my head on a wall from a writer’s perspective because it’s so well done! The sun setting and the following hush are great transitions to the last part of the chase and really set the mood. I especially love when Sterling wonders to herself if Zunesha sleeps!! It’s such a small but poetic detail that really helps ground her in the world she lives in despite that world being so whimsical.

"A daring glance back was too tempting to resist." I love this sentence and how it transitions to the reveal, I love the emphasis on hunting grounds. But I think my favorite part of maybe the whole fic is the end of the paragraph: 

“So in tune with nature here, it made her shudder. It almost flowed around him, with the ease at which he caught up.”

It’s sooo good! I can picture it perfectly and I just love the concept; such a master of his environment that it feels like the forest moves around him rather than the opposite. Coolest shit ever and something I can easily visualize.

And man, Doe is like a master of mood. After the buildup of the chase and the reveal, literally the moment his paw comes down and pins Sterling I’m on the edge of my seat with anticipation. And from the very start the dialogue is fucking hot:

"Well, little kitten, I've got you-gara right where I want you…there is no place in this jungle where I couldn't find you…"

DAMN I mean talk about starting off strong! And their back-and-forth is so cute and hot.

"Adrenaline and heat, all swirling together. I would chase that scent anywhere, kitten. I'd find you anywhere, until I could have you."

OTL I CANNOT, and immediately followed by "I'll always be yours."  !?!? Im GONNA SCREAM!!

“...causing the beast to rumble in approval. That sound was felt all the way to her core.”

Doe hits all of the monsterfucker motifs: the growling of a beast being felt physically, the heat, the strength, the size difference, for some examples. She has an excellent understanding of the draw of the whole thing and knows how to execute those aspects very well.

Also. ALSO.

"They say you shouldn't tempt the beast." - "I think the beast is tempting me. Don't make me wait."

Fucking SUPERB I love the dialogue so much.

"Eyes on me, kitten."

The dominance and being called “kitten” grjgjdfskhfsj. I know I write the same thing but that’s because IT RULES (no pun intended) and Doe does an amazing job at it

The buildup to the actual penetration, the threat of the edging and the dirty talk is drawn out perfectly and is literally so hot it makes me dizzy. And it all builds up to the tipping point/high point/climax (literaty-term-wise) that is making Sterling beg for it, before you even get to the main event. 

“Nekomamushi's Sulong form is always a bit rougher with her than his daytime self. The beast took what it wanted, and thought of her wellbeing later on once the throes of heat had cooled. But Sterling liked the thrill of being at the moon beast's mercy, a cunt to be used to breed and nothing more.”

Again with Doe showing 100% understanding of what the appeal of monsterfucking is. We love to see it. And then you actually have the main event and it’s 6 full sizzling spicy mastercrafted paragraphs before the first orgasm, like. I don’t know how she does it! Then we get 3 more before Nekomamushi’s?? 

Then a perfect resolution and closing line, which is always something I struggle with. The whole thing is Literally 1000/10 work.

Man, I aspire to write stuff like this. I really look up to Doe as a writer.

That’s about all of my thoughts on that. T_T I love fics I love OCs and self inserts and reader inserts I love writing (I hate writing) I love writing. How have you been, KP? I hope things are okay for you.

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR SO LONG!!! I WOULD WAIT A MILLION YEARS FOR YOU TO COME BACK TO ME!!! I’M SO HAPPY YOU SAW MY PINNED POST I THINK OF YOU ON THE DAILY!!!

I’m not gonna lie when I saw this at work I literally started jumping up and down and screaming with joy silently, of course, but I did jump up and down. I want you to take your time and reply to me whenever you feel OK there’s no time limit and I’m always gonna be here. Also, it’s OK if you don’t wanna come off anon that’s completely your choice. And I don’t fault you for that at all.

After I read through your message all the way I literally called Doe and I read her this she was literally so happy She said it made her week and she’s never had such an analytical review of one of her works before she knows the time and energy. It must’ve taken for you to write all of this and source actual lines from her story

She said she greatly appreciate you for doing that very much and if you ever want to go over to her blog and just be on anon to just go ahead and do that if you want.

I reread that story a couple of times a week because it’s a literally, my favorite, and that one line with Sterling just being a Cunt to breed literally always sends a tingle through me. It’s literally my favorite line of the entire story. 

My friend I greatly appreciate you so much and you don’t know how much joy that you bring me every time you message me I always get really giddy and giggle a lot that’s how much I look forward to you. 

I’m always here if you wanna talk to me if you even want to make a side blog and keep your self anonymous that way and go into my DM’s. If you just want to talk I’m totally down with that too. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with or we can continue communicating this way it’s literally whatever.

And I have so much more I want to tell you and I look forward to hearing from you once again, it brightens up my entire day. You have no idea !!!

I am doing pretty good. I’m getting over a back injury and Covid. I go see the Barbie movie on Saturday. I’m very excited for that. Hopefully you can see it too if you want. 

 I have so much to tell you and I would like to discuss a bunch of horny stuff with you, but just general stuff in general 

I hope this finds you well, my friend 

[sailorsoons]

Hey so this is one of the best things I've ever read of literally any genre. I cannot wrap my head around this right now. I fought sleep for like 45 minutes straight last night because I needed to finish it so bad and it was so god damn worth it I'm trying to figure out where the hell to start because I liked so many things about it and definitely ran to one of my servers to rant about how much I loved it before passing out into a dead (ha) sleep.

Okay I'm going to full rant and I'm adding a cut because I know I'm not going to stfu for a few paragraphs.

I don't know dick about fuck about screen writing but do you do that as a profession or study that because quiet frankly, the way you managed to .... use writing to depict what and audience would be seeing as a film kind of rewired my brain. It seems like a simple writing device and yet I'm entirely convinced I would never be able to do that like..... especially the parts where it flashes between young Soonyoung and his mom to 17 year old Soonyoung I'm just... literally in awe as both a reader and a writer. It was so succinct but just... really well done? I have no idea how to describe it further other than that was one of my favorite parts about this fic.

I am genuinely, genuinely, genuinely so floored about the characterizations here. Soonyoung's character was SO WELL DONE and well rounded and very... I don't know. I really love the emphasis you place on the difference of love and adore and the intricacy of what those words me to him on a psychological level. It is not lost on me at all the level of sheer artistry it takes to weave the way he understands love into scenes where we tangibly see the development of the way he shapes that word's meaning. It was kind of just.. a masterclass in character-driven storytelling, to be honest with you.

Reader in this is also so wonderfully captured. I specifically love the way she frames the concept of final girls, and how the reason some of them are so captivating (my fave final girl is Sydney) is because there IS a combination of vulnerability and strength that makes you love them. Like their vulnerability is a strength - and then at the end when you revisit that conversation and have her ask Soonyoung to let her be her own final girl, to have a moment of vulnerability with someone who tortured her for so long and turn it into the strength/vengeance she needs? It was honestly beautiful in a brutal way and I admire the way you portrayed that so fucking much.

Also - Loomis corp was not lost on me hahahaha I loved that element as well. The original four Scream movies are some of my favorites and I really love the little easter eggs (hi, Gail!!) that you put in here.

Overall this was just overwhelmingly incredible and I wish I could do a better job like writer to writer picking this a part to really emphasize how much I enjoyed this piece. I don't know. I'll be thinking about it for a long time.

adore u

🔞 18+, minors do not interact • masterlist • submit a request 🚨 minors and blank blogs will be blocked

after a career drought full of dead end positions, you finally land a job you can be proud to include on your resume—prestigious company, room for growth, and most importantly, a salary that will allow you and your boyfriend, soonyoung, to breathe a little easier. what you don’t expect is the discrimination and vitriol you’re met with on the job. as office life gets harder and harder for you, soonyoung finds it increasingly impossible to sit back and watch you repeatedly get hurt like this. so he dusts off a mask he never thought he’d use again, and when your colleagues start dropping dead one by one… well, that’s none of his business.

♫ i did something bad taylor swift

pairing: ghostface!soonyoung x fem!reader wc: 23k 🤨 tags: horror fic (kinda not really), scream fic, established relationship, alternating povs, normal (used loosely lol) lovers to crazy psycho lovers, screenwriter!soonyoung, corporate slave!reader, “he hates everyone but her” trope except make it “he hates and brutally murders everyone but her” ┐(￣ヘ￣;)┌ a/n: the platinum blonde spiky hair ghostface soonyoung brain rot had me in a chokehold. this all started just bc i saw a gifset of him looking soooo early 00s fuck boy pop star and immediately my brain was like “ghostface hoshi.” so here we are. i do watch horror but like. i’m here for a good time not a critical time LOL. i am no expert on horror movies! i just like watching the more digestible ones, and if there are inconsistencies with the reasoning for becoming a killer or the relationship between killer and lover of killer or how realistically easy it would be to catch the killer… well, just pretend there aren’t :) i’m just trying to eradicate this ghostface hoshi brainworm :) so enjoy it :) or don’t :) this is more for me than anyone else :)

warnings READ ALL OF THEM!

content: murder… obviously (it won’t be overly gory, but it is described, so be careful. it won’t be anyone in svt), he’s a psychopath (again… obviously), blood, knives/stabbing, torture, domestic violence (not between mcs), traumatic brain injury, misogyny, daddy issues, eh mommy issues too why not, male use of the word “whore” and “bitch” against a woman, workplace harassment (bullying, hazing, finance tech red pill bro culture), sexual harassment in the workplace (inappropriate comments, sexualization of reader by male coworkers, etc. but no physical sexual assault takes place), no physical description of reader but she’s called a diversity hire by her harassers (whatever makes her diverse can be up to you), murdered people could possibly share names with idols idk but if they do, that’s a coincidence bc these are just random names, protectiveness to insane levels, possessiveness, codependency, jealousy, toxic and unhealthy relationship, reader is also crazy smut: marked at beginning and end if you’d like to avoid, unprotected piv, creampie, roleplaying (kinda? like, is it roleplaying if they’re roleplaying as themselves but one of them doesn’t realize it’s themselves?), squirting, kink exploration, mentions of bondage, mentions of blindfolding, mentions of choking, mentions of degradation, mentions of knife play, light breeding kink, shower sex, oral (both receiving), face fucking, fingering, uh horniness supercharged by murder so… whatever tag that is, dirty talk except make it about murder, honestly don’t look at me

🎞️ a portion from an early draft of the script for cult classic horror movie, “adoration,” by renowned screenwriter kwon soonyoung

IN AN APARTMENT

a man (jake) dressed in a disheveled suit returns home late at night presumably from work, though from his mannerisms, he seems drunk.

he takes his jacket off and lets it fall to the floor. he is grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge when his phone rings. the number is private. he declines it. when it rings again, he fumbles to hit the right button for several seconds but eventually answers, swaying drunkenly as he does.

JAKE hello? (he hears loud breathing) hello? (no answer) who is this? (hangs up and mutters to himself) fucking weirdos.

his phone rings again, and he watches his cell vibrate on the counter. he closes the fridge door and answers the phone, obviously ready to yell at whoever it is, but he is cut off by a raspy male voice.

PHONE STRANGER hi, jake.

jake freezes, too flustered to speak.

PHONE STRANGER oh come on, don’t be rude. where are your manners? this is where you say hi back. go on, try it.

JAKE who is this?

PHONE STRANGER that’s too easy, don’t you think? and too easy is never any fun.

jake seems to deflate, his exhaustion too potent to argue with a stranger. he hangs up once more. the phone rings again. he answers it in an almost violent fashion.

JAKE leave me alone!

PHONE STRANGER hang up on me again and i’ll take that pretty, little butcher knife (jake’s eyes dart to the knife block on his kitchen island. camera changes focus to knives) and run it down the entirety of your torso until the floor is slick with your blood and organs.

jake looks around the apartment, understanding there is a large chance he is being watched.

camera angle changes to a shaky shot farther away from around the corner in a dark hallway, suggesting whoever is watching is already in the apartment with him. goes back to jake in kitchen.

jake inches forward, wrapping his fingers around the very same knife he was just threatened with.

PHONE STRANGER hiding it won’t help you, jake. and neither will using it. i promise.

jake’s fingers immediately let go and he takes several steps back in horror as he realizes he is definitely being watched.

PHONE STRANGER good boy! (sounds genuinely excited) so you do listen after all. now. let’s start over. hi, jake.

JAKE hi. (voice cracks, clears his throat) what do you want?

stranger clicks tongue in disapproval.

PHONE STRANGER jake, jake, jake. didn’t we talk about manners already? (jake inches toward the front door, stranger laughs) eh, i probably wouldn’t go that way if i were you. (jake freezes, eyes flitting around the room wildly) what do you want to try next?

camera briefly shifts to a dark corner closer to jake now. goes back to kitchen.

JAKE who are you?

PHONE STRANGER my name is hoshi. (jake is very obviously surprised) didn’t expect me to tell you my name, did you? thought i’d keep that a secret? you don’t have to ask either; that’s my real name.

JAKE why?

HOSHI why what?

JAKE why are you telling me your name?

HOSHI well, it doesn’t matter if i tell you my name. it’s going to die with you anyway.

jake quickly takes the phone away from his ear and begins to dial the police. being drunk, he mistypes several times.

HOSHI i won’t try to talk you out of that. someone needs to find your body after all. i do want people to know you’re dead. i want her to know you’re dead. that you’re never going to hurt her ever again. so by all means, call the police. but i assure you. they won’t come in time.

JAKE (in a shaky voice) yes they will.

HOSHI no. they won’t. and you know how i know?

jake finally gets the call going, phone automatically putting hoshi on hold.

HOSHI i know because you’re a dumb ass and you never even put me on speaker.

camera focuses on jake’s face front on as his eyes widen and he freezes. audience hears dispatcher answer the line.

DISPATCH what is your emergency?

hoshi appears behind jake in a white mask, face contorted into a permanent scream, and a black tattered robe. audience hears a squelch as jake’s mouth falls open in pain and he stumbles. his phone falls out of his hand, ending the call.

camera angle switches to side view, where audience can see a hunter knife buried in the middle of jake’s back. hoshi slowly slides the knife out of him, letting him fall to the floor, where he’s immediately crawling away.

hoshi makes no move to follow him yet. simply watches him kick and struggle to stand.

HOSHI i knew you were dumb, but i didn’t realize you were this dumb.

he slowly walks after him, watching as jake pathetically tries to make it to the front door, blood trailing behind him. he crashes into most of his furniture as he stumbles past.

hoshi reaches him and kicks him in his stab wound, causing jake to fall back to the floor, screaming in agony.

JAKE god, why?! WHY?!

HOSHI question of the night, huh?

JAKE (sobbing, turns over and pulls himself away enough until he’s slouched up against the back of his couch) i don’t even know who you are!

hoshi squats down in front of him, forearms on knees, eye level. he keeps his bloody knife threateningly close to jake’s face.

HOSHI but i know who you are. oh man, i know exactly who you are. i’ve heard all about you, jake. more than i should’ve ever had to hear about you.

jake sobs harder as hoshi runs his knife gently across his neck, leaving his own blood on his skin.

HOSHI you couldn’t just be the quiet coworker who came to work, minded his own goddamn business, and went home, huh? you had to be the red pill loser.

JAKE (weakly) what…? i don’t… huh?

HOSHI you hurt her, jake. and when you hurt her… well frankly, you hurt me. and i don’t let anyone get away with hurting me.

JAKE who’s “her”?! who are you?! i don’t even know what you’re talking about, dude. please! please! i promise i won’t tell anyone! i’ll do whatever you want! i’ll give you whatever you want—just let me live!

hoshi doesn’t say anything for several seconds. resembles predator watching prey. when jake starts blubbering and begging, he sighs.

HOSHI what if what i want… (tilts his head menacingly at him) is for you to die… (wipes his knife along the length of his sleeve, cleaning it of blood) an incredibly slow and painful death? hm? what if that’s what i want? will you still give it to me, jake?

JAKE i don’t get it, please, i don’t get it. who are you? what do you want?

HOSHI god you’re a fucking moron, i literally just told you what i fucking want.

he drives his knife into jake’s thigh. when he screams, hoshi backhands him to shut him up.

several seconds pass as jake tries to catch his breath.

JAKE why are you doing this?

hoshi removes his knife from his thigh, just to plunge it into his abdomen. jake doubles over, blood spilling past his lips.

hoshi lets go of the knife, leaving it buried inside jake. he tries to reach up and remove it, but hoshi gently presses a single finger to the hilt. jake screams and lets his hands fall away. hoshi removes his finger.

HOSHI (casually) honestly, it’s kind of futile explaining this to an idiot who gets off of shitting on women.

jake’s breathing is labored as his screams subside.

HOSHI (comically scratches his head) like, how do i even explain love to a greasy little incel like you?

JAKE (incredulously, while stuttering) love?

HOSHI yes, jake. love. you know, it’s so funny. i really, really hated that word for most of my life, and then… one day that just… changed, i guess.

JAKE you’re killing me because… you love… me?

HOSHI (sputters/laughs) what?! are you fucking—what?! (backhands him again) i can’t even fathom how fucking stupid you are! what the fuck? (jake groans) no, you jackass, how could anybody love you? you’re like shit on the bottom of my shoe. (mutters again) what the fuck?

JAKE i don’t get it.

HOSHI (sighs) i know you don’t, dimwit. that’s why i’m not going to bother explaining why you’ll die tonight. you’ll never understand what it’s like to love someone the way i love her. i fucking adore her. 

he watches jake carefully, head tilting to the other side like he’s studying his looming death. or enjoying it.

HOSHI and jake (just barely skims one finger from where the blade disappears into flesh, up the hilt of the knife) one thing about me?

jake’s eyes go up to meet the black holes in the mask, breathing coming out in short gasps now.

HOSHI my adoration is killer.

without warning, hoshi grabs his knife once more, other hand holding jake’s shoulder down as he pulls the knife up his torso with alarming force. he makes good on his promise to cover his floors with his own blood and organs.

your life has become a sad routine of miserably crying monday through friday, suffering an emotional hangover on saturdays, and spending the entirety of sunday shaking with anxiety over the mere thought of having to go back to work and do it all over again the next day.

your job, for the most part, is predictable. you expect to come in and endure catcalls, unprovoked insults, glares, and lewd gestures all before you even reach your desk. you expect to have your work—as flawless as you know it is—ridiculed and mocked, just for someone else to copy it word for word, claim it as his own, and receive endless praise for it. you expect your boss to sheepishly shrug and tell you boys will be boys and to be a “team player.” you expect to be told you’re useless, you’re just a diversity hire, and all you’re good for is something nice to look at.

as the only woman on an all-male, all-asshole team, you expect pure torment.

what you don’t expect is to be corralled into the company auditorium with hundreds of other employees first thing in the morning, where you’re all informed that jay, the psychopath you share a cubicle with, was not just playing hooky and skipping work like you and all his buddies assumed, but that he “tragically” passed away earlier this week. you’re in a daze as they tell everyone grief counseling is available and that those close to jay can take bereavement effective immediately if they have to.

what you also don’t expect is to return to your desk, google his obituary, and be met with several articles detailing a gruesome murder that took place in his apartment building. jay isn’t directly named, but you don’t need him to be to know it’s him. the executives were too dodgy about the announcement of his death for this to be about anybody else.

your eyes scan over words like “stabbed,” “bloodied,” “screams,” “ripped,” and “spilled.” the journalist describes it as the most grisly homicide to take place since the “prank call killings”—even goes as far to make connections between jay’s murder and the string of deaths that took place years ago, in a small town not far from where you are.

both involved victims with multiple stab wounds.

both were indicative of a frighteningly large hunting knife with unique serrations used as the weapon.

both ended with the torsos being carelessly cut open down the middle—while the victim was still alive.

the one difference is that police found no evidence of calls made to jay’s phone before his death.

this begs the question: after nearly a decade, has the prank call killer made their return, or has a copycat ascended their throne?

the closing line sends a chill down your spine, but you’re not sure it feels bad.

in fact, there’s one last thing you don’t expect that comes of today: as you turn in your seat to look at jay’s desk, exactly how he left it, you find that you don’t feel horrified about his death. contrarily, you find yourself feeling relieved. elated, even. and that’s what horrifies you.

as the team that housed jay, your boss releases you all from work for the rest of the day, some for the whole week. not you, though—never you. you are expected to return first thing in the morning to begin sorting through jay’s work and figure out where you can fill in and what you can split amongst your coworkers. but you know that won’t be happening; no one on your team would lift a pinkie to help you even if you were on the floor dying. everything jay left behind will be your responsibility now, not that that’s much of an issue. the man was already pawning all his work to you anyway.

“baby?”

soonyoung’s voice filters through the noise of the coffee machine as you close and lock the door behind you. a head of blonde, spiky hair pokes out from around the corner. your boyfriend’s eyebrows are raised, mouth puckered into a cute, surprised o.

“hey, what are you doing back?” he asks as he completely exits the kitchen and walks around the corner. his hands are immediately pressed against your forehead and neck when he reaches you, eyes running up and down your body like he’s checking for injuries. “are you okay? do you have a fever? are you sick?”

you don’t even have the energy to playfully slap him away and roll your eyes like you normally would at his overly worried behavior. you just shake your head slowly.

“what’s wrong?” he mutters, letting his hands fall to snake around your waist. soonyoung watches you so closely and so attentively, you almost swoon enough to forget why you’re so distraught.

“i…”

soonyoung doesn’t urge you to speak, patiently waiting for you to find the words you want to use. you shake your head again.

“jay’s… jay is dead?” you announce, sounding unsure and confused even though it’s literally just a fact now.

soonyoung snorts. “that would be a dream. how would he die? what’s the most satisfying way to imagine it? hit by a bus? fell into an open manhole? choked on a—”

“no,” you interject, gripping his forearms and squeezing. he moves to let go of you but you keep him where he is. “he’s actually dead, soonyoung. like… dead dead.”

he raises an eyebrow, still obviously hesitating. “okay, i want to say you’re joking… but your use of my government name is telling me you’re not…?”

“i’m not!” you insist, slapping his arms away now.

“hey.” he pouts.

“why else would i be home right now?!” you point out. “park told us to take the day off.” you toe off your shoes and push past soonyoung, further into the home you share. “something about grieving.”

you go straight to the couch, flopping onto it face down.

“oh my god?” your boyfriend murmurs in a daze as he follows you, brows furrowed into a deep frown.

he sits on the small sliver of couch you’re not occupying, automatically arranging you so that you’re laying face up against him between his legs. his arms find your waist once more.

“what… what happened…?” he asks, obviously trying to tread the topic carefully. he knows how much you hated jay—hell, as your biggest supporter, he hated him too. but for him to die? you’re full of complicated feelings. “is that why he’s been skipping work?”

you nod. “and it’s not just that… park and the other execs didn’t say this, but… i looked up his name to see if i could read the obituary.”

“mmm,” he hums, nodding. “tracks for a nosy girl like you.”

“not the time!” you whine, already pulling away. he tightens his arms around you, keeping you from moving.

“okay, okay! sorry! i’ll be serious—i swear! i’m sorry!”

you huff and relax against him once more.

“so you looked up his obituary…” he encourages you to continue, voice lower as he tries to be serious—a feat for him, honestly.

“i… i think jay was murdered.”

you whisper the words without meaning to, like you’re scared of giving life to them. like if you say them loud enough, the prank call killer—or their copycat—will come bursting through the door and shred you and the love of your life into ribbons of blood and flesh.

soonyoung remains quiet and you can almost hear the gears in his head turning as he tries to find the correct thing to say. you bet he’s trying to scour his brain for anything that isn’t an inappropriate joke.

“murdered…?” he asks in a small voice. “why… how…?”

you rest your hands over his on your stomach, pressing even further into him as you retell what you read.

a victim was found in his own apartment, stab wounds to his back and left thigh. it was clear he was attacked in his kitchen and that his assailant let him make it halfway to his front door… before they cornered him against his own couch. then, they gutted him—from lower abdomen to sternum, where his bones wouldn’t give any more way for the knife. they didn’t name him. they didn’t even describe his appearance. all they said was that he was 28, and he lived alone.

but you knew, and from the way you spoke, you were confident soonyoung wouldn’t question you about it. he was good at trusting you and believing in you.

“that’s… fucking barbaric…” he breathes out after you recount the story. “i mean, the guy was a fucking asshole, but… that’s… i mean, it’s… i—”

“i feel happy.” you blurt out the words that have been brewing in your head since you left the office.

to his credit, your boyfriend has taken most of this information well despite the poorly timed jokes. but at this new revelation, his entire body tenses against yours, and you immediately regret being honest.

“you think i’m a monster, don’t you?” you ask quietly, ready for him to gently remove you from him. to admonish you. maybe even leave. “you think—”

“i don’t think you’re a monster.”

he says it with so much conviction, you believe it the first time he says it. soonyoung repeats it anyway.

“i don’t think you’re a monster, baby. please don’t say that. i’m just… surprised. i mean i’m definitely not mourning the guy, but i know how these kinds of things can upset you.”

you know he’s referring to all the times news headlines made you cry, or the times bleak documentaries pushed you into a weird episode of feeling like there was no meaning to life and everything was pointless. you’ve always been easily affected by the world around you, so it’s fair for him to be surprised that being this close in proximity to a victim of such inexplicable violence doesn’t send you straight into a panic attack.

“he just… he made my life so hard, soonie,” you say, not expecting the tears that fill your eyes. your voice cracks on your boyfriend’s name and he immediately rests his lips against the crown of your head and whispers his love for you.

“i know,” he says after he’s told you he loves you at least a dozen times. “trust me, i know.”

soonyoung actually knows best because he’s the one who’s picking up the pieces when you come home broken and inconsolable. he’s the one who calms you down enough to explain what happened this time.

jay purposefully knocked your coffee over a report that took you a week. jay took credit for a project you were forced to collaborate with him on—a project you ended up doing all by yourself. jay was telling everyone you were a ditzy bimbo that couldn’t do her job right. jay went out drinking with the boss and spent the whole night talking shit about you. jay wouldn’t stop trying to convince you you were only hired because you had a pair of tits. that those tits are all you’re ever going to be worth.

he’s the entire reason the team is the way they are around you now. he’s the one who emboldened them to treat you the way they do.

and day after day, week after week, for almost a year now, soonyoung has had to endure all your rants—rants that were exactly the same because you didn’t know how to stand up for yourself. the only thing you knew how to do was “be a team player” in the hopes that you could find a promotion into another team or even better, a new job altogether.

being the best boyfriend there is, soonyoung never complained about your venting. even on nights he had to abandon the latest script he was working on, even on days he had to call in sick to the writers’ room because he had insisted on staying up until the sun rose, consoling you—he never complained or even hinted that he was tired of you. not once.

even more meaningful to you, he never chastised you for being unable to find the strength to speak back or enforce your boundaries, something you were already plenty embarrassed about. he never made you feel less than; he knew you already had enough of that from the men in your work life.

soonyoung was the gentleness and softness you craved and needed so desperately in your life. he was safety and love and warmth and he was what continuously healed you as your job tried over and over again to break you.

he knew all of this. he knew how much you hated it and how much you hated jay, and it comforts you to know that he doesn’t think you’re a monster for being happy he’s dead. it gives you the courage to be even more honest with him.

“i’m relieved,” you tell him, wiping away your tears. “i’m so relieved he’s gone, and that it’s over. that maybe now… maybe now, i’ll be safe.”

his hold on you tightens and he leaves more kisses in your hair.

“and… i feel like a terrible person saying this…”

“whatever it is, you’re not. so don’t.”

it’s the push you need.

“i’m glad he suffered,” you admit, feeling lighter as soon as it’s out of your mouth. “i’m not just happy he died… i’m glad he died in the most heinous way. and i’m glad his killer made it hurt.”

once the words are out, you can’t take them back. and soonyoung doesn’t make you feel like you should. after a few seconds of silence, he just sighs and leans forward to kiss your cheek.

“then i am too, baby. if you’re happy, then i’m happy.”

he says it like you didn’t just tell him the grossest thing you’ve ever said in your life. and when you look up and catch his reflection in the window opposite of you, unbeknownst to him, you find him smiling into your hair almost like he’s pleased with you. you believe that he really is happy when you’re happy.

and honestly, you love him even more for it.

“i love you, soonie.”

“i adore you,” he says, his favorite way to express his affection for you—even moreso than “love,” though he learned to return the four-letter word once you expressed how important it was to you. “endlessly.” he pauses briefly before promising: “i’ll love you forever.”

it takes just one week, when everyone returns from their bereavement, for you to realize you aren’t safe—that jay’s death just put his friends on edge and made them more dangerous than ever. that for some fucked up reason, they felt that torturing you was the best way they could keep their sick friend’s memory alive.

and it makes you wish they were all dead too.

🎞️ a portion from an early draft of the script for cult classic horror movie, “adoration,” by renowned screenwriter kwon soonyoung

as hoshi stands over his bed, clean of the blood he shed just hours ago and watching his girlfriend sleep, a montage of traumatic events from hoshi’s childhood begins flashing—switching between his memories and their bedroom until his memories win out.

FLASHBACK

a very young hoshi screams as he throws his tiny body against his father’s uselessly. his father has his hands around his mother’s neck, choking her mercilessly. 

YOUNG HOSHI stop it! stop! get off my mommy! (begins punching but makes no headway) stop! please!

DAD you think i wouldn’t hear about you coming around to that dead beat’s house under the guise of asking for sugar, you fucking whore?!

YOUNG HOSHI please! mommy!

hoshi’s father removes one hand from his wife’s neck to shove his son aside. hoshi stumbles several steps before falling and hitting his head on the corner of the table and blacking out.

memory moves to hoshi’s recovery, when he is back home with a bandage around his head. blood blooms on the back of it. he is freshly woken up, in his pajamas, and his mother is changing the dressing on his injury.

there is something eerily blank about his face.

MOM (in a hoarse voice) let me know if it hurts, sweetheart.

YOUNG HOSHI okay. (pauses in what seems to be thought, though his expression does not change) will you let me know if it hurts too? 

camera follows his gaze, focusing on the bruises around her neck. his mother’s hands still on his head before she continues in silence.

hoshi does not urge her to answer him, his eyes almost glazing over as he stares at her bruises. his mother finishes up changing the bandaging.

MOM you don’t worry your cute, little head about mommy, okay? in fact—

she pauses to put the medical supplies away into the first aid kit resting on the nightstand and smooths her dress before crouching in front of hoshi’s bed. she takes his hands in hers.

MOM mommy doesn’t want you interfering like that ever again, okay? (hoshi’s face remains blank as he meets her eyes now) when you hear daddy or mommy shouting, i want you to stay right here, in your bed, with the door shut and locked, and i don’t want you to come out until i come get you, alright?

YOUNG HOSHI am i in trouble?

MOM no, no sweetie. you’re not in trouble. but daddy will be home soon. in the next day or so. and mommy needs you to be safe and healthy, so will you promise me that you’ll stay out of it?

YOUNG HOSHI why does daddy hurt you?

MOM daddy is… he’s sick, sweetheart.

YOUNG HOSHI if someone is sick, is it okay for us to let them hurt us?

despite hoshi’s blank stare, his mother recognizes this will be a pivotal moment that informs the way her son sees the world. she blinks rapidly as her thoughts go into overdrive and she tries not to cry.

MOM (whispers) no. (she pauses, shaking her head and quickly wiping away her tears before returning her hand to hoshi’s) no, it’s not okay. you don’t let anybody hurt you, sweetheart. not you. no one hurts you.

YOUNG HOSHI why do you let daddy hurt you?

MOM i… i love him, hoshi. i love your father. and he loved me once too. maybe he will again. but either way, i will still love him. he gave me you.

hoshi’s blank stare breaks at this, like the idea of any part of him being from his father bothers him. like he realizes he might be the only reason his mother stays with his father.

YOUNG HOSHI you love him… (his mother nods) i never want to love someone then.

memory moves years forward, when hoshi is 17. they remain in the same home, but messier and much sadder. colors are cooler than the past warmer memories audience has seen before. 

hoshi is seated on the edge of a bigger bed now, in the same position as the previous memory, this time without his mom. 

hands grip the comforter tensely. works his jaw anxiously as he stares, expressionless, at the door.

sound is muffled as camera zooms in on door. audience hears high-pitched whining sound as shots quickly flash between the door, hoshi on the bed, and the blood that spread on the floor from his head injury when he was young.

the whining gets louder as all the memories that flash now focus on young hoshi’s traumatic brain injury (blood, his mother screaming, blood, cops, stitches, bandages, blood, blood, blood).

the sound comes back full volume as the flashing comes back and stops on his closed room door.

MOM i’m sorry! i’m—

his mother’s pleas are cut off with her own scream as the walls shake and boom with the force of her body being thrown against them.

hoshi relaxes his fingers and smooths the comforter where he wrinkled it. he stands calmly, making his way to the door. his hand hovers over the locked handle.

flashes back to his conversation with his mom.

MOM will you promise me that you’ll stay out of it?

young hoshi’s face is blank but the way his eyes search his mother’s face in a way audience did not see before now implies that he possibly could’ve been weighing his options, even as a child.

YOUNG HOSHI why does daddy hurt you?

back to 17-year-old hoshi.

HOSHI (mutters to himself) you never promised.

audience sees he made it to the kitchen during the flashback. he faces the doorway from the kitchen to the living room.

camera focuses on door. mother is thrown across the living room, father stalks after her. the sounds of punching are heard but they’re beginning to muffle again.

flashes back.

MOM you don’t let anybody hurt you, sweetheart. not you. no one hurts you.

flashes back to memory from beginning of film.

MOM (both sprawled across grass on a sunny day) you and i, we’re one, hosh. you’re made of me, and i’m made of you!

YOUNG HOSHI i’m you and you’re me?

MOM hm. not quite but sure, yes! and we’ll always have each other.

flashes to conversation after brain injury.

YOUNG HOSHI why do you let daddy hurt you?

MOM i… i love him, hoshi. 

we come back to teen hoshi in the kitchen. his mother’s voice is still there, but as muffled as the rest of the sounds are.

he walks forward and calmly retrieves the biggest knife from the block on the counter. 

MOM (muffled voiceover) i love your father. and he loved me once too. 

he weighs the knife in his hand and flips it so he’s holding it blade up. he holds it like someone who’s practiced this before.

he turns back toward the living room, walking to the doorway that separates it from the kitchen.

MOM (muffled voiceover) maybe he will again. 

he watches as his father punches his mother wherever she can’t block him. as he takes a step forward, the high-pitched whining returns, the camera begins to shake, and the house seemingly starts to crumble around him as he walks forward.

scenes once again flash between hoshi approaching his father, the conversation on the bed, and the blood pooling from his brain injury.

MOM (voiceover, warped by the whining) but either way, i will still love him.

the scenes flashing now show bits of hoshi reaching his father amongst the rubble of their home, grabbing him by the shoulder and yanking him off his mother and onto his feet.

whining and shaking reaches a fever pitch before going eerily silent and the scene shows sunlight filtering through leaves.

MOM (clear voice) he gave me you.

camera comes back to hoshi and his mother sprawled across the grass. the memory is different this time. 

MOM (said less warmly, more an order now) you and i, we’re one, hosh. you’re made of me, and i’m made of you.

as dialogue progresses, sun disappears, covered by dark clouds. hoshi sits up and narrows his eyes at the sky. when he turns toward his mom, he sees they are now both in the living room, the house completely in tact again, and she’s holding his small body—the younger version of him, limp in her arms as he watches from across the room. she’s covered in his blood, and so is the floor and coffee table.

MOM (blankly with no urgency) you and i. we’re one. someone hurts me, they hurt you. and what did i tell you?

HOSHI (voiceover as camera begins to follow the trail of blood gushing from young hoshi’s head) no one hurts me. 

complete silence, camera still following young hoshi’s blood as it flows across the hardwood floor.

the flow joins the massive pool around two pairs of shoes, both facing each other. camera stays there for a few moments, before his mother’s screams pierce the silence.

camera slowly travels up hoshi’s legs from behind, until it reaches his head, where it looks like his dad is embracing him.

something heavy falls into the blood (presumably organs), creating a splashing noise, and shortly after that, hoshi shoves his father. it’s clear he had simply died and collapsed onto him.

his mother starts screaming and sobbing over his body for several minutes, but hoshi finds that he feels relieved, his face breaking out into the smallest smile for the first time since he hit his head.

when his mother gains her senses, she grabs his face between her hands, her own face bloody, puffy, and bruised.

MOM go! you have to go! they won’t understand, they’ll take you to jail, hoshi! you have to leave!

HOSHI (frowning) but we’re safe now.

his mother freezes. 

HOSHI he’s gone. we’re safe now.

MOM (she swallows and nods shakily) we are. but i can’t let them take you to prison, sweetheart. 

his mom begins leading him through the house, quickly forcing him to change out of his blood-soaked clothes, gathering important belongings and food, finding years’ worth of hidden emergency cash she never found the courage to use, stuffing it into his backpack.

HOSHI mom… what… i…

his mother brings him to the back door, weaving his arms through the backpack and smiling unconvincingly. she takes his face in her hands once more and kisses both cheeks as her tears start to fall.

MOM you be safe, okay? 

HOSHI are you mad at me? do you hate me?

MOM what? no, no, sweetie. no. (said forcefully. pauses to think) i’ve only ever felt adoration for you, hoshi. adoration and nothing else. i’m sorry i let this happen. i’m sorry i subjected you to this.

HOSHI mom—

MOM but you need to go now, okay? the neighbors will have heard all the screaming. take the cash, go far away, and whatever you do, don’t come back.

HOSHI but—

MOM go!

she all but shoves him out of the door. she lingers there for a moment, trying her best to let the last memory of his mom be one of her smiling. she whispers an i love you before slamming the door shut.

PRESENT

we return to present-day hoshi, who is now seated on the edge of his girlfriend’s side of their bed. he strokes her hair away from her face as she breathes softly, still asleep.

he smiles, obviously, genuinely in love. 

HOSHI (whispers) adoration.

you’re back at work the next day, much to soonyoung’s chagrin. he had been hoping you’d get the rest of the week off, and maybe he could get out of going into the writers’ room and keep you company at home. but he knows that was wishful thinking, especially with how set your team has been on not only working you to the bone, but ruining your life. but at least you enjoy the rest of the week since no one else is there to bother you.

for the first time since jay entered your life, you start to look light again. you start to smile more freely, joke more, and come home with bright eyes. it brings him hope that this is how it will be now—that he did the right thing.

though, he already knows for a fact he did the right thing.

soonyoung can’t describe the pure ecstasy that ran through his veins the moment you admitted you were happy that jay was dead—not only that you were happy he was gone, but that you were glad the killer made it hurt. you didn’t say it, but he heard it loud and clear.

you were proud of him for what he did. you adored him for the way he punished jay, and he would do it again. no matter how many times it took—how many lives it took—he would spill gallons and gallons of blood for you, and he would do it happily. no one would ever hurt you again. not with him around, and he planned to be around until you were both buried six feet deep.

there wasn’t anything that could beat this feeling, he had decided the moment you bared your heart to him—so naked and vulnerable, and still trusting him to hold it gently. you weren’t horrified by his means of protection. you weren’t running the other direction. you were grateful. and he doesn’t know why he thought you would be any other way. there’s a reason he’s with you, after all.

if there’s anything even remotely similar to a soulmate, that’s what you are. you’re meant to be his—made to be his. and he was made to be yours—to serve you, to keep you safe, to kill for you. it doesn’t matter that his habit started long before he ever even met you; now, his talents are only reserved for you.

and it made excitement bubble under the surface of his skin knowing you liked it. you didn’t even know he was jay’s murderer—hell, you didn’t even know he was the prank call killer—and you still admired his work anyway.

“what are you smiling at?” 

he startles and looks up to see jihoon peering at his laptop screen, still only half a page full although they’ve been in the writers’ room the whole day. his colleague and friend frowns.

soonyoung sighs. “just daydreaming, man,” he says. it’s not dishonest. he shuts his laptop and stretches in his seat before standing and drawing the attention of the small handful of writers left. “going to head out now, everyone. got a pretty lady waiting for me at home. don’t stay too late, okay?”

he gets the usual playful eye rolls and smiles and cooing from the others as he slaps jihoon on the back and promises to get dinner with him soon. at work, he’s only known for three things: the exceptional writing that got him his lead position on the show, his fixation on horror movies, and his “obsession” with you. he liked it—the idea that when people thought of him, they immediately thought of you too. they know you belong to each other, and that’s exactly how he wants it.

soonyoung barely has the car started and in reverse when you call. he answers immediately.

“hey, baby, i’m just lea—”

“soonyoung?”

his heart stops at the sound of your voice. it’s clear you’ve been crying. for how long, he doesn’t know, but your words are still thick with tears. you sound exhausted and broken and worst of all, defeated. you sound like the day you came home and he decided he was going to kill jay—the first person he’s killed since he graduated college almost 10 years ago.

he puts the car back into park, clenching his jaw for a moment so that his first response to you isn’t tell me his name and i’ll have his head in front of you in an hour.

“soonie?” you whimper. “are you there? i’m sorry to call, i know you’re at work. i—”

“y/n, where are you?” he asks as calmly as he can. 

“i’m home,” you answer, voice so small, it makes his rage burn hotter. 

the fact that you’re home gives him at least some relief. 

“i was hoping you’d be here,” you tell him, voice shaky. “i just need someone to talk to. i had…” you whisper your next words like if you’re any louder, you’ll completely break down. “i thought work would be better. fuck, soonie, i thought work was going to be better.” your words devolve into devastated sobs as you repeat yourself.

soonyoung’s instinct is to race to you, to hold you until your tears stop, and to put you to bed and make sure that every time you wake up from a nightmare, he’s still there, arms tight around you, unyielding. protecting you and in turn, protecting himself.

but his mask, robe, and knife are still in the trunk from his visit to jay’s last week, and right now, he thinks that paying a visit to whichever idiot you’re going to tell him about is the best way he can help.

he forces himself to turn the engine off.

“tell me everything,” he says softly, though his body feels so tense, he thinks he might pop a blood vessel. 

“you’re not busy, are you?” you hiccup through your tears. “i can wait until you—”

“i’m not busy, love,” he says, eye inadvertently twitching from using the word. 

soonyoung still struggles with it. he tries not to because it’s an affection that makes you feel comforted and, well, loved, and he’ll do anything to make you feel that way. still, he doesn’t know how to keep it from feeling like an insult to you. 

love was what his father gave his mom. love was what made his mom stay with a monster. what he has for you isn’t the same; it’s leagues beyond it. he doesn’t think there’s a word for what he feels for you at all.

“go on,” he encourages you. “i’m listening. tell me.”

and you do.

soonyoung used to think he never had a control issue with his habit. it wasn’t something he craved or thought about the way he read that other serial killers did. no, his murderous tendencies only ever reared its ugly, useful head when he needed a solution for an ugly, useless lowlife.

the first was his father. something about cutting his stomach wide open, feeling the warmth of him rush over his hands, hearing the sound of him fall to his feet in pieces—he decided that would be the way it happened each time. he wanted to see a man who didn’t know how to treat a person right—and he wanted to feel the life flow right out of him. without meaning to, it became his M.O. 

he found himself hopping city to city after being forced from his home, and there was no shortage of men who needed correction—or, eradication. it was simple at first; he’d see a horrible interaction between lovers or a father and a child or classmates or even strangers, he’d follow the offender until they were alone, and he’d gut them like a pig. he didn’t think about hiding or burying the body, leaving it in plain sight to humiliate his victims further. he didn’t even have his mask yet, and in retrospect, he’s not sure how he didn’t get caught because he was careless in those early days.

he took it as a sign from the universe that he was doing exactly what he was supposed to.

soonyoung was smart with the money his mom left him and picked up part-time jobs until he had enough to put himself through school. university was crawling with losers begging to be killed, but he was a little older and a little wiser, and he knew a serial killer on campus would draw too much attention. so he forced himself to focus on the worst of the worst. and that was when he realized his M.O. was evolving.

it started with a frat president rumored to drug and take advantage of girls at their house parties. soonyoung watched him for a whole semester, taking note of his schedule, his routes, his haunts, his friends. then, he started calling him. nothing more than heavy breathing at first. but when he could hear the man’s nerves fraying—and that didn’t take long—he started talking to him. he found that he liked psychologically torturing him as much as he’d tortured the girls he’d hurt.

hi, allen.

who i am isn’t important.

i hear you can’t get a woman to consent to having sex with you. what’s the problem? is it small? well, even if it is, that isn’t really an issue—just gotta know what to do with it, right? 

well, i mean, why else would you resort to drugging and assaulting women? 

don’t lie to me. i see everything.

one night, weeks after he’d started calling allen, soonyoung had one last phone conversation with him, one where he was no longer bluffing. he actually was seeing everything, standing in the dark corners of the kitchen in their fraternity house—this time in full disguise—while allen and his brothers got drunk in the backyard.

oh, allen, it’s a bad night to be drunk, buddy.

why? because i’m going to free this campus of you tonight. gonna cleanse the floors of this horrid fucking house with your blood.

it’s too late for “sorry,” allen. besides, i’m not the one who needs to hear it.

the frat president tried to stay with at least one person at all times after the call, but as his brothers got drunker and drunker and started stumbling off to bed or passing out, allen found himself alone. and in the morning, his brothers found him the same way, except this time, with his insides all over the outside.

soonyoung killed two more people while in college, and even though they were far enough apart, he still got dubbed the prank call killer, a name he found childish and dumb. besides, he didn’t want a name; he wanted men to be scared. at least scared enough to try to be decent.

then, college ended, he packed up to follow the shows he wanted to write for, and it led him to you. and he didn’t have time to think about anybody else, let alone plot their demise. soonyoung was occupied by you, your smile, your laugh, your scent, the way you made him feel normal—the way you made him feel at all, something he struggled with since his accident as a child. and once he actually had you? it was over. he knew there was no possible way he’d ever be able to let go of you ever again. 

and the killing just… stopped. with you, he learned how to make friends—made a ton of them. he learned to enjoy other people and their company. he learned how to love, even if it sometimes made him want to plunge a knife into his own stomach. but he did it for you because he adored you, and nothing was more important than you.

so no, he didn’t think he had a control issue. it was largely easy minding his own business and refraining from stabbing men left and right when he had you next to him. 

but then, you started this stupid fucking job. you met jay and all his little cronies, and soonyoung realized it wasn’t a matter of his control; it was a matter of your safety and happiness. because now that you were the center of his universe, you two were one. if someone hurt you, they were hurting him. 

and the way he sees it, his only job is to make sure no one hurts him. no one messes with what’s his.

it’s not about control. he has none now. it’s about you.

by the time you finish telling him everything that happened that day, he has a strange calmness about him he hasn’t felt since before you. he can’t do anything but stare blankly forward, watching as employees of the studio walk to their cars and pull away.

“i’m so over it,” you grunt, having passed from sad to angry fairly quickly. “i don’t think i can do this anymore, soonie. i know money would be tight and i don’t want to put that stress on us but—” 

“no, don’t be silly,” he says, feeling like he’s on autopilot. “please quit, baby. i’ve wanted you to quit since the first day; i just… didn’t want to be that boyfriend.” he means every word and yet, he can’t feel any of them as they leave his mouth. “we’ll figure it out. please quit.”

there’s a heavy silence between the lines until you sigh deeply. “okay, love. i will. i’ll do it.”

he thinks he should feel relieved. he doesn’t and he knows he won’t until he kills them. “yeah? you will?” he asks, hoping he sounds excited enough. “you promise?”

your smile is loud and clear as you speak. “yes, i promise, soonie. i’m going to march in there tomorrow and quit without notice, and i’ll tell them i hope they all drop dead—no!” 

you gasp and correct yourself. 

“i’ll tell them i hope the prank call killer comes for them just like they did for jay!”

soonyoung feels something then. he doesn’t know what; he can’t define it, but it quickly grows into something bigger the more you speak. it pulls both his spirits and the corners of his lips up. it kisses him and fills him with light. it makes him feel alive, more than a shell for a soul he isn’t even sure he has.

“i don’t even know if any of them realize what really happened,” you think aloud before sighing like you’re daydreaming. “ugh, what i wouldn’t pay to see them on the news like that. ‘grisliest murders since prank call killings plague corporate hell’! that would be nice, huh?”

soonyoung smirks. that, he can deliver.

“yeah, baby. it would. a headline like that… i’d die happy.”

“me too,” you agree before telling him: “no one gets me like you do, soonie.”

his heart soars. 

🎞️ a portion from an early draft of the script for cult classic horror movie, “adoration,” by renowned screenwriter kwon soonyoung

after he’s done gagging howard—so tightly, the fabric is cutting into his skin, a punishment for the earlier kick to the head—hoshi stands in front of the two men, leaning up against the pool table and watching them.

they both have cuts and bruises on their faces, from the struggle to get them into the dining chairs, but hoshi’s knife is still nowhere in sight.

HOSHI (begins mindlessly and slowly pacing in front of them) i bet you want to ask me who i am… what i want… why i’m doing this, right?

howard glares at him but chris is already crying.

HOSHI and usually, i’d entertain the questions because prolonging the hope that you’re going to survive makes this more fun for me, but… (stops facing away from them) i’m tired. and i think i’m beyond having fun tonight. (turns head toward them and chris flinches at the mask) i think… (fully turns toward them with hunting knife in hand, catching the light) i just want to wipe you two off the face of this earth and be done with it.

howard’s glare falters and chris urinates on himself. hoshi snorts.

HOSHI (walks up to chris, who cringes away from him) chris, right? (leans down so chris is face to face with his mask) i asked you a question.

chris nods obediently and quickly, gag soaked in his own tears.

HOSHI so you’re the one who called my girl a bitch, hm? (chris frowns but he doesn’t seem to know exactly who hoshi is yet) called her a bitch in front of the whole office… told her she’d be better sucking your dick under the desk than trying to assign you work?

howard’s eyes widen as he realizes exactly who hoshi is talking about. chris starts sobbing loudly, begging for his life incoherently through the gag.

HOSHI (looks down at chris’s soiled lap, points his knife at his crotch) you want her to suck this dick?

chris’s begging becomes more desperate, thrashing in his seat as he realizes what’s about to happen. 

HOSHI (looks up at chris briefly and huffs a single laugh) what dick?

he shoves his knife into chris’s crotch. chris screams in muffled agony and howard starts shrieking and flailing in an attempt to scoot his chair away from the other two. 

camera is focused on hoshi’s upper half and audience can see his arm jerking quickly back and forth as chris’s screams continue and howard finally starts crying. then, there’s a dull thud on the floor, and hoshi straightens back up and takes a step away, knife disappearing in his robes as he tilts his head and views his work.

HOSHI looks like there isn’t a dick to suck there, chris. shame. 

chris’s wailing continues as hoshi looks to howard now, who begins shaking his head and crying through his gag.

HOSHI and you, you annoying little fuck. (crouches in front of howard) it wasn’t enough that you’re making her life a living hell, you wanted to piss me off even more and kick me in the head, huh?

hoshi rips his mask off, revealing his face to howard. there’s already a bruise spreading across the top of his left cheek. he smirks.

HOSHI my name is hoshi, if you’re wondering. and yeah. i’m her boyfriend. and as her boyfriend, she tells me all kinds of things. i’m sure you can imagine. 

he stands up and walks back to the pool table, resting his mask against the felt before turning, leaning up against it once more, and crossing his arms.

HOSHI and today, she had a lot to tell me. she told me that jake’s two closest idiot friends were trying to continue his legacy as biggest asshole in the office. do you know how jake died, howard? won’t bother asking mr. no-dick, over there. seems busy. 

camera goes to chris, who keeps fading in and out of consciousness, face soaked with sweat, tears, and drool slipping out of his open mouth.

HOSHI no guesses? (a gagged howard looks at him incredulously) okay, fine, fine, i’ll tell you. i killed him. 

even though his tone sounds prideful as he speaks, his face is blank. he stares at howard with soulless eyes, and it unnerves him further.

HOSHI i snuck into his apartment while he was out drinking with you guys. (howard makes a noise of surprise) yeah, that’s right. you two were the last people to see that moron alive. i should probably thank you. (tilts his head up at the ceiling like he’s reliving the memory) his inebriated state made it a lot easier to tease and kill him. not a lot of fight in that one. surprising, don’t you think? (head remains tilted at ceiling, but eyes flash down to meet howard’s) that someone who tormented a woman’s life the way he did would die so easily… so quietly… so… pathetically.

chris regains consciousness and starts screaming and sobbing again, head hung over where his member used to be

HOSHI (brings his head down and looks at chris now) how will you two die? (eyes slide over to howard) will you beg for your life the way jake did? will you… offer me meaningless apologies and promises? will you… tell me that you’ll give me whatever i want? 

he brings out his knife again and wipes it against howard’s pool table, smearing chris’s blood against the green felt. he inspects it like he’s making sure it’s sharp enough. camera focuses on hoshi’s reflection in the blade.

HOSHI (shrugs, puts knife down) i guess we’ll see in a few moments—how similar you are to jake. i will say, (pushes off the pool table, taking his mask with him) you two seem to be even worse than that deadbeat. do you agree, chris?

chris screams at the mere mention of his name, convulsing as hoshi walks closer to both of them. he stops just a couple of steps away from them, right in between the two.

HOSHI jake was a demeaning, narcissistic misogynist. and i tore him wide fucking open. let his intestines spill all over his own floor. made his living room a shallow sea of red.

both howard and chris beg through their gags.

HOSHI can you imagine what i’ll do to you if i think you’re even worse? (puts his mask back on and looks at howard) can you imagine what i’ll do to the man who told the whole office that he was gonna fuck the ambition and fight out of my girl, whether she liked it or not? what do you think i’ll do to that man if i made a massacre out of the dumbass who said a few mean things? 

howard desperately shrieks excuses against his gag, no success in saying even one understandable word. 

HOSHI (sighs like he’s come to a decision) yeah, i’m beyond having fun tonight. (quickly slashes chris’s throat, shallow enough that it will take a long time for him to bleed out. howard screams) at least with him. but with you? (crouches in front of howard again) the night has only started for you, howard.

IN THEIR HOME

TV NEWS ANCHOR authorities are doing their best to calm increasingly panicked citizens as fears that a serial killer is rampant on our streets spread. last week, 29-year-old jake lee was found brutally murdered in his downtown apartment (camera view switches to hoshi’s girlfriend as she tidies up around their living room. she looks pleased upon hearing that sentence), stabbed multiple times. last night, police answered multiple calls to 911 reporting the screams of a man in their high-rise apartment. 

she stops tidying, turning to look at the news broadcast from where she stands. her eyes are wide and her mouth hangs open in surprise.

TV NEWS ANCHOR upon entering, they found 27-year-old howard wang and 25-year-old chris vu’s bodies in the former’s apartment. authorities have not yet released details of the crime, but sources report that the nature of their deaths is comparable to that of jake lee’s. we have maya on the scene, reporting.

the tv turns off as she sinks into the couch, obviously in a dazed shock. the camera focuses on her from straight ahead, slowly zooming in on her for several, silent seconds until only the lower half of her face is visible. after a few more moments, she smiles.

you watch soonyoung carefully as he washes the dishes, something he insisted on doing since you cooked tonight. you think it’s the least you can do for the sole earner of the household now that you’re unemployed, but he refused to let you do it yourself.

from where you stand, you have a clear view of his sharp profile. the bruise he says he got from falling down the stairs at work earlier this week has become a deep purple, spreading across his cheekbone and toward his jawline. you suppose he could’ve gotten that in a fall. a fall that took place the same night hayden and charles were murdered. the same night you told him you wished jay’s killer would come for them next.

you want to say your boyfriend would never do something that insane. you want to say your boyfriend doesn’t have the kind of temperament required to commit vengeful crimes like these. but after almost ten years together, you think there have been enough signs to make you take pause.

soonyoung almost never got visibly jealous—never paid any attention to men who looked at you a little too long or sent the server to deliver you a drink. he was confident in his trust in you. it should’ve been comforting how unbothered he was by the attention you received, but sometimes, you felt offended that he wasn’t at least a little bit jealous.

these thoughts were vanquished immediately when one night, someone grabbed you at a bar. it wasn’t even inappropriate; the man just took you by your forearm and yanked you toward him in an attempt to keep you from getting crushed by a drunken patron who had zero spatial awareness.

you’ll never forget the rage you saw in soonyoung’s eyes when they landed on the stranger’s hold on your arm. he didn’t do anything—simply threw the hand off you and led you away, but the look stayed with you. it was a raw, all-consuming, unadulterated, and unchecked rage you don’t think you’ve ever seen with your own eyes before. 

the kind of rage you think could be capable of murder, given the right circumstances.

it should’ve scared you. just like the idea of soonyoung murdering your coworkers one by one should scare you. but it didn’t, and it doesn’t now. exactly like back then, it gets you wetter faster than foreplay itself.

soonyoung turns the faucet off and wipes his hands on the towel. when he turns, he’s so startled to find you standing so close to him, he stumbles back.

“oh shit,” he breathes, laughing a little. “i didn’t realize you were so close. you move so quietly.” he notices the way you stare at him intently. like it’s second-nature, he wraps himself around you and pulls you into his chest. “what’s up, baby?”

“i want to try something,” you say softly, a little hesitantly. 

you know what you’re about to ask for is depraved and worrisome and… inhumane. but you can’t bring yourself to care right now, not when your panties are this soaked at the thoughts flying wildly around your head.

“okay,” soonyoung says, laughing a little. “can you be more specific?”

“i want… to roleplay a little,” you say, gaze going down to soonyoung’s neck, then his chest. your fingers trace the edges and dips of his collarbones and his pecs.

his grip on you tightens. “is that right?” he says, smirking. “and who do you want us to pretend to be? are we strangers in a bar?”

you shake your head. “no, not strangers in a bar.”

“okay,” he acquiesces easily. 

soonyoung is always eager to give you whatever you want, and it bolsters your confidence to ask this of him. he leans down to graze your ear with his lips.

“am i your sexy sidepiece you’re cheating on your boring ass husband with?” he whispers, running his hands down to your ass and gently squeezing, pressing your hips against his so you can feel him already hardening from this conversation alone.

you smile, eyes fluttering closed as he nips at your lobe. “nope, not that either.”

“tell me who you want me to be, and i’ll be whatever it is, baby.” he subtly grinds into you and you try not to moan. 

“you promise you won’t judge me?” you whisper.

“i would never,” he promises, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck now. 

“i want you to be him,” you say as he starts to bite and suck. “i want you to be the prank call killer.”

he completely freezes in your arms, mouth still against your skin. for a horrifying minute, you think you’ve crossed the line. of course soonyoung is going to think you’re a freak for asking something so debauched and immoral of him. you have little to no evidence that he would ever enjoy something like this.

you’re about to push him away and start groveling for forgiveness and promising to seek therapy, when he grabs you by the face with both hands and envelopes your lips roughly with his own. his kisses are hot and wet and his tongue is in your mouth before you can ask if this means “yes.”

he presses you up against the kitchen island, and you can feel his entire length against your thigh, fully hard now and begging to be inside you. you groan just thinking about it—thinking about the murderer that took your tormentors off the street fucking into you viciously and relentlessly.

“and who are you?” he asks, breaking away from the kiss and lifting you so that you’re sitting on the counter. 

soonyoung’s voice is rough and raspy with desire you haven’t heard from him quite like this before, and you feel the wetness between your legs grow knowing he’s willing to do this for you.

“i’m exactly who i am right now,” you say, feeling a little shy, but when he moans at your words, you feel bold enough to be honest with your fantasy. “i’m your girlfriend,” you inform him, hands diving under his shirt and caressing the muscles there. “and you’re going around killing all the losers i fucking hate because you adore me so much.”

“fuck, you’re so goddamn hot,” he mutters as he takes both hands and rips your blouse open, buttons popping and fabric ripping. you gasp and he smirks at the sound, slipping the ruined piece of clothing off you. “shhh, don’t be scared, baby. you’re the one person in this world i would never hurt.”

the sentence undoes you.

“oh god,” you breathe, diving forward and capturing his lips again. 

soonyoung makes quick work of your bra, throwing it somewhere behind him once it’s off. he massages your breast for a few moments before taking your nipple between his fingers and tugging.

you break the kiss to tilt your head back and groan, and he takes the opportunity to bite and suck at the space where your neck meets your shoulder.

“rougher,” you breathe. “c’mon, you’re a murderer.”

soonyoung laughs a little at that, his love bites turning into gentle pecks up and down your neck. 

“and you think this killer… he’d be rough with you?”

your eyes blink open a few times, staring at the ceiling and losing yourself in thought. in the days following your colleagues’ deaths and your own resignation from work, you’ve had a lot of time to think—and touch—about this. when you envisioned soonyoung as your murderous protector, you saw him as vicious and wrathful and cruel. but when it came to you… his need was desperate and carnal, but always softer. gentler.

you realize it’s probably not so different from the way soonyoung already likes to fuck you: like you’re the only person in the world he cares about.

“how about…” soonyoung presses one last kiss to your neck before his hands are suddenly up your skirt. he pushes your panties aside and abruptly plunges his middle finger into your heat. your body jerks into his in response. “you let me take the lead here, and if you don’t like something, you just let me know, hm?”

every word you’ve ever known escapes you as he fucks you with just one finger, the wet sounds of your arousal embarrassingly loud as he moves in and out. his thumb lands on your clit when you let out a particularly filthy moan for him, and you lean back on your hands and open your legs wider for him for better access. he gives you another finger as reward.

“oh, soonie,” you breathe. “yes.”

“so warm, so wet,” he rasps, other hand landing on your chest and flicking your nipple. “so beautiful.”

“babe,” you whine, rolling your hips onto his fingers in frenzied movements. “tell me… tell me about—oh my god!”

“hm?” he hums before the sound of more fabric ripping fills the kitchen. 

you frown and look down in time to see soonyoung bringing your panties to his nose. you have half a mind to scream at him to stop but his fingers are still inside you, rendering you absolutely speechless as he presses the lace against his face and inhales deeply. your instinct is to feel self conscious—to snap your legs closed and grab your ruined underwear back. but you watch as his eyes roll back into his head and his lips twitch up against the black lace, and you realize he loves it. he breathes in again, and this time, you feel the excitement it causes through his fingers. they move with renewed fervor, like they’re thanking you for the gift you’ve given soonyoung. 

“smell so fucking delicious,” he all but growls as he balls the panties up and pockets them.

before you can say anything back, he’s bending down to let his tongue taste your clit briefly before pressing his thumb back against you. your hips jerk and you can’t help when your elbows give, making you collapse and lay all the way down on the counter. 

his fingers pump in and out of you faster now, and he completely replaces his thumb with his tongue, guzzling and drinking you up so intensely, his face quickly becomes covered with the stickiness of you.

“taste perfect,” he moans into you, tongue lapping you up eagerly. “tastes like mine.”

it pushes you over the edge quickly, and your back is arching off the island counter as your orgasm seizes you. the room is filled with your boyfriend’s name as you ride out the pleasure on his fingers.

“what do you want me to tell you about?” soonyoung asks once you come down, thumb going back to your clit. he keeps his face close to your pussy as he speaks, nose occasionally slipping between your folds and inhaling as he does. “should i tell you about how i disembowelled that ugly, little douchebag, jay?”

your cunt spasms at the words and soonyoung huffs a laugh when he feels you clench around his fingers. he curls them inside you, easily finding the spongy spot he’s been purposely avoiding up until now. he slows his movements, rubbing you patiently and carefully.

you sigh at the sensation, unsure if it’s because you feel so good or because you’re frustrated he’s eased up.

“i ran my knife up his body until his bones wouldn’t let me butcher him any further,” he whispers, moving so that his mouth is over your stomach, tongue slipping out to trace patterns on your skin between words. “and i made him bleed, baby. fuck, i made him bleed so much.”

“soonie.”

“i made him bleed for looking at you, for breathing near you, for ever thinking he could make someone as perfect as you bend to his will,” he whispers, breath hot as it fans over your skin, fingers still working you to a second orgasm. “i painted his apartment red. and i made it hurt. i made sure to make it hurt. just… for… you.”

he pushes roughly at your spot as he says that last word, eliciting a lewd moan as the beginnings of your next orgasm start to settle over you. soonyoung smirks against your skin.

“as for charles, i cut his fucking cock off,” he tells you. 

you gasp at that even though you know he’s just making shit up for the sake of roleplaying. still, you find it in yourself to hate how much you love the idea of soonyoung doing that to someone who told you to get on your knees and suck his dick. someone who wasn’t your boyfriend.

“he cried like a bitch,” he says, kissing your clit before straightening back up so he can properly watch you writhe under him. “cried all the way up until i slit his throat.”

you smile at soonyoung then, reaching for his free hand—the one not currently buried two fingers deep inside you—and bringing it over your tit and holding it there. he looks at you like you’re the reason he’s alive. like you’re the only good thing in the world. 

he massages you, just as gently as he did when this first started.

“but my favorite…” he says, eyes heavy-lidded as he takes you in. all his. all the time. until the end of time.

he removes his hand from your chest and shoves his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to spring out. your hips immediately start to buck at the sight, but all soonyoung has to do is shake his head at you once for you to immediately stop moving. there’s something so demanding and powerful about his presence right now that you’re not willing to push the limits of his patience. the pleased look on his face makes your emptiness feel worth it. he takes himself in his fist, pumping a few times as he speaks.

“my favorite was hayden. do you know why, baby?” he asks, moaning when you start playing with your nipple and breathing his name. “can you imagine the shit i did to the loser who thought he could fuck what’s mine?”

“i am,” you sigh, nodding desperately. “i’m yours.”

soonyoung pumps even faster now, but his fingers never falter inside you, intent on getting you to another high. and it’s close. you can feel it building almost painfully in your lower abdomen.

“i cut that ugly tongue of his out of his fucking mouth,” he grunts. you clench hard around his fingers. “and i started chopping him to fucking pieces—”

“soonyoung, i’m going to cum!” you half-shout, twisting under him uncontrollably. 

“i cut him up, and the entire time, i only thought of you,” he fucks into his fist harder as you start to lose yourself to your climax. 

“soonyoung!”

“and i thought that i’d kill the entire fucking world if i had to… just to keep you mine.”

you cum harder than you ever have in your life, near-screaming as you squirt all over soonyoung’s hand. the feeling reaches every, single corner of your body, making you convulse with pleasure.

“holy shit,” you hear from somewhere above you.

you don’t have time to gather your senses, though, because immediately, your body is being dragged down to the edge of the counter until you’re flying right off it. your boyfriend catches you, standing you up and kissing you full on the lips as he shoves your skirt down enough for it to slip off you and pool at your feet. you take the opportunity to tug his shirt off too, hands all over his naked torso once it is. 

“let me cum in you?” he asks without leaving your lips.

“god, please,” you whine, feeling the wetness soonyoung caused sliding down your thighs.

he wastes no time after that, turning you around so that your hips are flush against the kitchen counter. you feel the fabric of his sweatpants glide down the back of your thighs as he removes them, and that’s the last thing you remember before the darkness overcomes you.

your eyes squeeze shut as soonyoung slams into you in one go, giving you zero time to adjust as he starts to immediately rut into you from behind. it burns and hurts so delectably, having him stretch you like this. usually, he takes even more time than he did tonight, making his way up to four fingers sometimes, but having him fuck you like this—like if he waits even a second longer, it’ll be his ruin—it threatens to violently shove you into an abyss of pleasure you fear you’ll never get out of.  

soonyoung makes sure to hold you up, one arm across your chest with his hand on your breast, the other on your neck, forcing you to tilt your head back and rest on his shoulder.

you feel his eyes on you, his breath fanning your cheek as his gaze rakes you top to bottom, and you know he looks like a god, but you can’t open your eyes to save your life right now. you think if you do, you might explode into a million little pieces, forever disappearing into the ether. 

you feel his lips rest against your ear as he sloppily whispers, “do you like it? knowing i’d do anything for you?” his voice is hoarse as he fucks you rougher than he ever has, the debased sound of skin slapping against each other filling the kitchen. “that i’d kill anyone without a second thought if it meant keeping you forever?”

you moan loudly, eyes pathetically rolling when you attempt to open them. you give up, keeping them shut as you reach up and grab soonyoung’s hair. he groans as you tug.

“soonie,” you sigh, shoving your hips back to meet his and making him curse. “i love it. i love it so much.” 

you don’t know that you’re playing a role anymore. the idea that soonyoung would do any of this for you is so titillating, you feel drunk off it.

“feel so safe with you,” you say in broken gasps, your boyfriend’s rhythm making it impossible to say more than two words smoothly. “know you’ll always protect me, soonie.”

soonyoung curses loudly and bites into your neck to keep from getting any louder. his hips snap to yours at an increasingly unforgivable pace.

“and i’ll always protect you too,” you tell him. 

you don’t care if this is something you wouldn’t be able to double down on when his cock isn’t buried to the hilt inside of you; it feels like the right thing to say. it feels exactly like what you want to do for him too: everything and anything. just to keep him yours.

“i would do anything for you, soonie,” you whisper.

without warning, there’s a burst of warmth inside your cunt, and soonyoung’s hand briefly tightens against your throat before immediately relaxing again, nothing but his moans and your name taking up the air in the room. he comes inside you hard, hips gluing to your ass like he’s trying to keep every, tiny drop inside you. 

the feeling of his dick pulsing against your walls, pushing his seed into you, claiming you as his—it pushes you to your third orgasm, a slow and rolling one, not as intense as the others, but impossibly more satisfying. because this one not only brings you pleasure and an endless well of love for soonyoung; it brings you clarity.

because as you finally open your eyes moments later, soonyoung whispering sweet affirmations, vows, and affections in your ear as he keeps his softening cock warm inside you, you realize with startling lucidity that it wasn’t just a little fantasy.

the idea of soonyoung covered in blood and gore on your behalf was the stuff made of your dreams—or, arguably, nightmares. the idea that you had someone who adored you so deeply, he would play god like that made your heart grow tenfold. and now that soonyoung has fucked the fantasy deep into places inside you you couldn’t reach, you didn’t have it in you to feel ashamed about it.

you’re happy those three are dead.

and you’ll be even happier when the rest of them are too.

🎞️ a portion from an early draft of the script for cult classic horror movie, “adoration,” by renowned screenwriter kwon soonyoung

HOSHI (leaning forward on the table) what’s your favorite scary movie?

YOUR ALIAS hmmm… (she buys herself time by taking a sip of her coffee) maybe… “saw”? why? are you big on scary movies?

HOSHI (shrugs) i like ‘em. probably more than other genres, yeah. (laughs nervously) what, um, do you like about “saw”?

she looks at him like she’s endeared by his nervousness.

YOUR ALIAS i mean, it was a really lengthy and roundabout way of doing things, but i guess i just enjoyed the idea of someone delivering retribution to people who deserved it but escaped it, not that i agreed all the victims chosen should’ve been chosen at all. just enjoyed seeing a few assholes die.

HOSHI (nods slowly) you like karma.

YOUR ALIAS (pauses with coffee at lips. she nods, maintaining eye contact) i do. (sips coffee) what’s your favorite scary movie?

HOSHI i like any slasher movie with a good final girl. if i had to pick, i’d probably say “halloween.”

YOUR ALIAS ahh, laurie, the final girl of all final girls.

hoshi visibly lights up at the comment, smiling widely at her.

HOSHI you know more about horror than you let on.

she nods, smiling back.

YOUR ALIAS just a little. i wouldn’t say i’m knowledgeable but i’ve watched a lot of the classics at least once. i’d call it a green flag that you root for the final girls. laurie’s a good one.

HOSHI i’ll take it. (obviously pleased) but humor me. why is it a green flag?

YOUR ALIAS (shrugs) when done correctly, final girls are the perfect mix of vulnerability—

scene suddenly and almost startlingly flashes to memories of hoshi’s mother for a brief second, accompanied by what sounds like a loud gust of wind. the memories are happy ones between hoshi and his mom.

YOUR ALIAS —and strength—

the memories become times his mother endured his father’s beatings.

YOUR ALIAS —and don’t subscribe to traditional gender roles and ideals. i’m not a huge fan of some films making it so that a lot of final girls are, like… holier than thou virgins, but i think the trope has come a long way. 

hoshi nods, seemingly satisfied with her answer. she laughs and adds:

YOUR ALIAS unless you like final girls because you like to see a woman struggling against a violent serial killer. then red flag.

hoshi forces a laugh and shakes his head, looking down at his coffee and tracing the mouth of his mug.

HOSHI no, no. definitely more in line with the first one. i, uh… (looks up at her and seems to search for something in her eyes. whatever it is, he finds it and has the strength to be vulnerable for the first time in his life) my dad was abusive. with my mom.

her face falls and reaches forward to hold hoshi’s hand. the feeling is foreign and odd but he lets her hold it, even curling his own fingers closed around hers.

YOUR ALIAS i’m so sorry.

HOSHI she made me get out. she forced me to leave and never come back so i don’t really know what happened to her. i guess i just hope she’s a final girl.

she takes her second hand and closes it over the top of his and rubs it comfortingly.

YOUR ALIAS she must have loved you so much. (hoshi visibly bristles at that but doesn’t pull away) to be able to give you a better chance at life even if it meant never seeing you again… she absolutely is the final girl.

HOSHI (smiles) i like the way you described it. vulnerability, strength. 

YOUR ALIAS (smiles back) tell me more about her.

the two talk until the cafe closes and kicks them out, and the audience sees a montage of the couple going on their second date, third date, until they are moving in together, and planning a future together. hoshi is the happiest the audience has ever seen him, and it seems the side of him that kills has been quieted, though we know that to be untrue from the murders happening present-day.

the montage moves into a scene where she comes home from work in tears. hoshi consoles her, but eventually, that same blank stare we first saw after his head injury comes back.

once she’s asleep, hoshi visits a storage unit he rents a few miles away. he reels up the door, revealing just one trunk in the unit. he walks up to it and opens it.

inside, is a mask, a robe, and a knife.

sex with you after that night in the kitchen has become twice as intense as it ever used to be, and soonyoung knows it’s because a big part of him isn’t holding back anymore—he’s bringing his whole self into bed with you, not bothering to pretend he isn’t completely eviscerating anyone who even looks at you funny in his spare time.

he tells you everything you want to hear, which funnily enough, is just the truth. 

two more deaths to add to the list at your office, and he tells you exactly how he did it. he tells you what they said, how they begged, how he made them pay with their lives. between all of that, he never forgets to tell you he would do it time and time and again for you. he would do anything for you. kill anyone for you.

and the way you moan and gasp and cum at his words every time without fail is so goddamn addicting, he thinks he might die whenever he’s not inside you. 

it’s dangerous, he knows that. as you start to tell him more stories you didn’t bother to when you were still working there, the itch to go annihilate that entire office becomes overwhelming, and he knows if he doesn’t control it soon, it’s bound to draw unwanted attention; he doesn’t know how it hasn’t already, with five dead bodies—all on the same team at the same company.

so for a few weeks, he doesn’t do anything about the mental list of names he has in his head, letting the headlines and panic die down. 

you go out interviewing for jobs, he goes to work, you both come home and fuck each other’s brains out, and he stifles the voice in his head telling him to go murder every last person on that team.

but then, you ask for something terrifying.

you’ve been exploring your kinks ever since you first asked him to roleplay, and you’ve found the things you like and dislike—all things he agrees with so far. you like being tied up, you like blindfolding him, you don’t like calling him daddy (he absolutely fucking hated trying that one), you loved when he spit in your mouth, and he loved when you spit in his. 

and while he was open to all your suggestions, there were some things he hesitated with. you asked him to choke you and though he initially agreed, he couldn’t, immediately getting soft when he tried to. you asked him to degrade you—call you a bitch, a slut, a whore—and he figured it was your way of coming to terms with what you experienced at your nightmare of a job. that maybe if it came from someone you loved and felt safe with instead of the asshole in the next cubicle, you’d slowly chip away at your trauma. but he couldn’t do that either.

you always handled his rejections gracefully, assuring him that you could do missionary with zero kinks involved for the rest of your life, and you’d be “on your knees thanking him for blessing you with his dick either way.” and you do your best to prove that to him, taking kinks off the table for a while and seemingly giving him a break. the only thing that stays constant is the “roleplaying,” though that’s probably more at soonyoung’s insistence than anything else. the intimacy he experiences from being himself in bed with you—truly himself—is unparalleled. 

until one night, you ask him to use a knife on you during sex, and the panic attack it incites—the first soonyoung has ever experienced—is so massive, you almost call 911. he calms down enough to convince you not to, and the rest of the night is spent in your arms as you cry and apologize profusely for suggesting something like that when you know how his parents raised him. he tries to find the strength to tell you it’s okay, and that he understands, and that there’s no harm in asking, but each time he tries, nothing comes out of his mouth. he spends that entire time staring at the wall, and for the very first time, he experiences it: an undeniable thirst to plunge his knife into someone. 

soonyoung isn’t sure why, especially since he just suffered the most exhausting mental breakdown over the measly idea of even holding a knife anywhere near your vicinity. maybe it’s to take his mind off the gruesome, nauseating thoughts of his hunting knife sinking into your flesh—images that flooded his mind against his will the moment you asked that of him. maybe it’s a need to recalibrate his brain, like if he kills another one of your tormentors, it will remind him of his devotion to you.

whatever it is, it nags at him day and night for the rest of the week until he accepts it’s something he needs to give into, no matter how callous and unwise it might be. in an attempt to convince himself it’s okay, he says this will be the last one; regardless of the handful of names left, he’ll do this last one, and he’ll move on. as such, he makes his last victim the one person who could’ve put an end to all of this from the start: your boss. 

daniel park is a man of routine, soonyoung learns over the next few weeks. he leaves his home at a sharp 7 a.m., stopping by the same coffeeshop near his obnoxiously large house in the suburbs. he gets to the office around 8 a.m., a full hour after he required you (and no one else) to be in the office when you were still his employee. now that you’re gone, park is usually the first of his team in the office. he locks himself up inside his corner office doing fuck all while everyone else does his work for eight hours. he leaves the office exactly at 4 p.m., and from there, he either goes out for dinner and drinks with his team (something you were never invited to), meets equally old and ugly buddies for drinks, or goes to a bar alone for drinks. either way, the man is drunk by 6 p.m. every day. 

then, around 10 p.m., he’ll make his sorry way home—driving drunk while at it—and he’ll stumble into his home, paying no mind to his already sleeping wife, who took care of the home and their child the entire day with no help from him. 

soonyoung decides to be reckless one more time. it’s his last one, anyway. he wants this one to matter. he wants this one to be the one you think about for the rest of your life—enough to hold you over even if he never kills again. 

he waits for a night when park drinks alone, usually around wednesday or thursday, when he’s gotten tired of his team and wants time alone with whatever stupid thoughts he has. soonyoung watches him from a corner booth at the bar, knocking back whiskey after whiskey like they’re shots. and when he stumbles out of the establishment, he easily guides him to his own car instead of park’s with little protest from the drunk. 

he drives him right back to the office building that took so much energy and life out of you, using his badge to get them into the floor. he’s patient with park, letting the man nod off for an hour as he ties him up and prepares for the rest of the night.

when park finally blinks his eyes open, soonyoung is fully dressed in his usual disguise and standing before him in the darkness, only the moonlight filtering in from the windows to his left illuminating his shape. the way your boss startles so violently is deeply satisfying, and it takes everything in soonyoung to refrain from laughing in his face. park jerks his limbs, horrified to find them tightly bound to his own chair, wheeled out of his office and brought to the front of the team floor, where park keeps a whiteboard for their daily stand-ups. 

“good morning, sunshine,” soonyoung says from beneath his mask. 

“who are you?! what kind of sick joke is this?!”

“none of you were raised with manners, huh?” he grumbles. “all of you skip straight to your stupid questions. why don’t any of you know how to greet a fellow human being?”

he stills in the seat. “‘all of us’?” 

soonyoung nods slowly, taking his knife out of his robes, freshly cleaned and polished the way it is before and after every single death. he feels a jolt of dread twist in his stomach when he looks at the blade, picturing it buried in your stomach. he shakes his head to free himself of the thoughts, and thankfully, park doesn’t notice, too busy blabbering all kinds of questions. 

“shhh, shhh!” soonyoung shushes him, waving his hands erratically. “quiet, shut up, i’m irritable tonight and if you piss me off on top of that, i’ll make this ten times slower than it needs to be.”

his mouth clamps shut at that and he presses himself back into his seat. 

soonyoung usually pretends to inspect his knife at this point just to intimidate his victims, but he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t throw up looking at his own weapon right now, so he lets the arm holding it simply fall to his side. 

“all of you,” he repeats. “jay… charles… hayden.” he walks to park slowly, menacingly. “leo, ian.”

your boss’s eyes widen as he hears all the names of his slain employees from the last several months. 

“daniel,” soonyoung finishes his list. “you.”

“wh… what…?” he sputters, shaking his head in confusion. his words slur and this close, soonyoung can smell the alcohol on his breath even from under his mask. “you were actually targeting this office?!”

soongyoung scoffs. “well, yes. the only victims have been from this office.”

“b-but authorities! they said there have been a few others that could’ve been—”

park cuts himself off with his own scream as soonyoung’s knife pins his hand to the arm of his chair. 

“oh my god!” he screams at the top of his lungs, entire body jerking against his restraints. “oh my god, you stabbed me! you fucking stabbed me! oh my god!”

“i told you to be quiet, right?” he reminds him. “are you going to be quiet… or not?”

your boss stops screaming, though his whimpering and sobbing is almost just as loud. he does his best not to look at his own hand like it helps him pretend it didn’t just happen. he stares up at the ceiling, taking shallow breaths. 

“do you know what all of you have in common?” soonyoung asks. 

“no,” park breathes, still blinking furiously at the ceiling. 

“y/n,” he states easily. “that’s what you have in common.”

park’s eyes come down to soonyoung’s mask, wide and filled with tears. 

“yeah, you know exactly why i’m here, don’t you?”

“i—i—” his mouth opens and closes several times before he says, “i’m sorry.”

“whatever for?” soonyoung asks sarcastically, pulling someone’s chair out from their cubicle. 

he notices a light blanket on it, yanking it off and throwing it over his shoulder before he sits down. he slouches, bringing one ankle to rest up on his knee and cradling his chin in his hand, elbow on the armrest. he tilts his head in mock interest. 

“for it all!” he shrieks. “i swear, i’m sorry, i know i should’ve done more! i’m sorry! i’m a fucking coward, okay?! please! i know what they did to her was horrible!” 

“do you? know that?”

“yes, yes! i swear!”

“name them.”

“what?”

“if you can name everything they said and did to her,” soonyoung says, watching the way his blood drips from the armrest and stains the carpet below. “maybe i’ll make this quick. stab you in the heart and be done with it.”

“what?!” he protests. “what about you let me live?”

soonyoung scoffs exaggeratedly. “oh no, daniel. no. that’s cute, but no. the only way you’re coming out of this building is in a body bag. it really is just a matter of whether or not this will be quick and painless or… well, y’know… the alternative.”

he’s bluffing. he already knows exactly what he’s doing with park. he just likes giving him the illusion of control. when he rips it away from him, it’ll be all the more gratifying. 

“you have a minute. i’d start listing if i were you.”

“they, uh, they bullied her!” 

soonyoung rolls his eyes beneath his mask. 

“they catcalled her! they took credit for her work! they made her do all of their reports! they, uh… they—”

“tick tock.”

“they made sexual jokes about her! talked shit about her during dinners! uh, they—um, they spread rumors about her!”

“okay,” soonyoung says, waving a hand and nodding. “good run.” park seems to sigh with relief. “how about you, though?”

“what?”

“how about you?” soonyoung repeats himself, and even though he’s still slouched casually in his seat, his change of tone makes your boss flinch. “what are some things you said and did to her?”

“i… i didn’t…”

“uh-uh,” he laughs, wagging a finger at him. “i already know everything, daniel. don’t try to lie to me.” 

it’s another bluff. you told soonyoung you told him everything, but something about the way you said it never convinced him. he knew you were leaving something out, and if this was his last time with any of your vile colleagues, he might as well try to see what it was you were hiding. 

“what’s it going to be, boss man? are we going slow or are we making it painless?”

“i passed her up for every promotion!” he shouts immediately, wincing when his enthusiasm jostles his hand against the knife. “she was the most qualified and i passed her up every time!”

soonyoung motions with his hand boredly. “okay… and?”

“i told her to suck it up! that boys will be boys! i told her if she wanted to move up, she needed to get used to it!”

soonyoung glares at him from beneath his mask. 

“i—” he swallows hard, tears flowing down his face. 

soonyoung sits up, sensing the revelation he’s waiting for on the horizon. he plants both feet on the ground, stands, and stalks over to park until he’s towering right over him. he whips the blanket off his shoulder, balling it in his fist before he rests his hands on your boss’s forearms and leans forward to meet his eyes, ignoring the way he gasps at the pain the movement causes. 

“you what?” he asks calmly. 

“i… oh god, i…” he swallows nothing again. “i’m sorry…”

“what are you sorry for, daniel?”

“i… i told her if she did want a promotion… she could do me some favors.”

soonyoung’s blood runs cold in his veins. that’s not something you ever mentioned to him, and he can imagine why. he wouldn’t have just gone on a murderous rampage; he would’ve blown this entire building up. he thinks he might break his own teeth from how hard he clenches his jaw. after a few moments, he forces himself to release the tension and open his mouth once more.

“what kind of favors, daniel?” he asks quietly.

“oh god, please don’t make me sa—SEXUAL!” he bellows when soonyoung presses a hand to the hilt of his knife, pushing down another inch. “SEXUAL FAVORS!”

“ah, there it is,” he grunts, nodding. 

he stands back up. soonyoung unceremoniously yanks the knife out of park’s hand, flips it so that it’s blade up once more, and without hesitating, he brings the sharp side down on all four of park’s fingers. before the man has a chance to scream, he shoves the blanket into his open mouth, muffling any noise he planned on making.

“shhh,” soonyoung mutters almost soothingly. “shhh, you’re fine. it’s just a few fingers. you don’t need them where you’re going anyway.”

he pats park’s head condescendingly two times before hitting the same spot with the blunt end of his knife. 

“you’re all just fucking assholes, aren’t you?” he asks as blood starts running down your boss’s temple. “is that on the job listing? ‘requirements: must be a misogynistic pervert’?”

he grabs a fistful of park’s hair, yanking back so that all he could see was the ceiling. 

“i’m sure you know exactly what happened to the others,” soonyoung says, speaking so close to him, his mask presses up against the side of his face that isn’t bleeding. “i’m sure you know all about what i did to them.”

park sobs through the blanket, drool escaping the corners of his lips the harder he tries to speak through the makeshift gag. 

“i bet you didn’t count on her having someone who adored her like this, did you?” he asks, voice low. “didn’t think someone would come punish you for hurting the person they love most in this stupid fucking world?”

“no. he didn’t.”

soonyoung freezes at the female voice that cuts through the floor from behind him. your boss starts to thrash with renewed hope that someone has caught him red-handed. his fist tightens around his hair, yanking to shut him up. painstakingly slowly, and without letting park go, soonyoung cranes his neck to look behind him, heart stopping when he sees you there, standing in the moonlight looking as breathtaking as ever. 

he doesn’t dare say a word. under his mask, soonyoung frantically searches your face for any sign that you’ll run screaming from him, leaving him alone, never to see you again. he doesn’t find anything other than your usual, soft smile—“resting lovely face” he would call it on his especially sappy days. 

you’ve pretended to be a murderer’s girlfriend dozens of times by now, but soonyoung had no reason to believe you thought any of it was real—that you suspected him of all the heinous crimes he’s committed for you. as you let the large bag hanging on your shoulder slip off and fall to the floor and you start walking toward them, he weighs his options. 

he could run, but then what? leave you with a crime scene you’ll take the blame for? absolutely not. he could throw himself to the floor begging you for forgiveness, begging you to not turn him in but more importantly, begging you to stay with him. there’s a tiny, ugly voice that suggests he could also kill you. he shudders, shaking the thought away. if he resorted to that, he would have to follow right after. that had to be his last option. 

you reach them, and soonyoung knows he’s run out of time. whatever you do or say next will dictate the rest of your lives. 

when he forces himself to meet your gaze, though, he sees nothing there but absolute fondness and veneration. you rest a palm against his back as he continues leaning over your former boss. 

“mr. park,” you say, turning your attention to the man bound to the chair now. soonyoung follows your gaze back to the man, who’s still being forced to stare at the ceiling. he releases his grip on him, allowing him to look at you. his eyes widen in what soonyoung suspects is fear. “nice to see you again under these circumstances. really nice.”

soonyoung feels his heart skip a beat. he straightens up to his full height now, eyes on you as you continue speaking. your hand snakes from his back to his arm, and down, down, down, until your fingers are intertwined with his. 

“have you met my better half?” you ask him. “this is kwon soonyoung.”

he feels like his heart jumps into his throat at that moment, and he fights to keep from choking on nothing. you must feel the way he stills in your hold because you bring his gloved hand to your lips and kiss it gently. 

your boss starts sobbing twice as hard, throwing what looks to be a restrained tantrum. 

“i’m sorry,” you say, faking a wince. “you must have thought i was here to help you, huh?”

soonyoung’s mouth twists into what he’s sure is the largest, most insane smile he’s ever had the pleasure of smiling in his life. the adrenaline and dopamine that suddenly releases in his system makes him feel invincible in a way he never has before. because if you, the adoration of his goddamn life, know who and what he is and you still love him… then nothing will ever be able to stop him ever again. nothing stands between him and the entire world now.

“my bad,” you sigh. “i’m just here to watch you die.”

soonyoung takes that as his cue, lifting his knife toward park. but before he can do anything, your hand comes to his forearm, stopping him. he looks down at you, tilting his head in question. you look up and shake your head. 

“i want to do it,” you whisper. 

he doesn’t know why he doesn’t want to talk to you while his mask is on. whatever it is, he can’t say anything as you try to take the knife in your own hand. 

sensing his hesitation, you smile and nod. “you’ve done so much for me, soonie. will you let me be my own final girl now?”

without a second thought, the tension in his arm dissipates immediately, completely surrendering his weapon to you. you hold his knife in your hand, and seeing it in your grip demolishes whatever last walls he had up between the two of you. you stare down at it like you’re holding a relic, and it takes him a moment to realize you’re imagining the men he’s killed in your name with it. 

he reaches out, wrapping his hand around yours and tightening your grip on the hilt. your gaze flick up to him and his other hand briefly caresses your cheek. your eyes flutter closed, smile widening for a short moment. when your eyes open, there’s a fire in them he’s seeing for the first time, and he knows that whoever he walks out of here with is going to be a completely different person than the one he woke up next to this morning. 

you give him a small nod before turning away from his hold and facing the man who’s made your life a living hell this entire time. 

soonyoung decides he doesn’t want to watch park’s face as the light leaves his eyes. instead, he walks around the chair behind him, holding it from behind to keep it still for you, his eyes trained on your face and only your face. 

the smirk that graces it now is glorious, and it takes everything in him to keep from falling to his knees and kissing the ground you walk on. 

“sorry, nothing personal,” you say, obviously reciting something he’s said to you before. “girls will be girls, right?”

soonyoung barely hears the muffled screams that follow. all he can hear is his heart singing as he watches the life, light, and joy this job stole from you come back to you all at once. he’s never been more in love. and he thinks he understands now. this. this is love. 

it was clear to you that something was escalating inside soonyoung for the last few weeks, and you knew he was gearing up to commit his last crime—you were sure of it. 

you had your suspicions when you asked him to roleplay with you, but it was the week after that you became confident in your intuition. the week after, when authorities finally released the circumstances under which hayden and charles died. 

you shouldn’t have been surprised when you read the dirty talk soonyoung used to get you to cum over and over again practically word for word in the article that detailed their murders. there was no way he would have been able to know all this information before the public did, and lucky guesses were out of the question, especially when every, last thing he told you was listed.

after that, two more of your ex-coworkers died, ones that made particularly lewd comments at you, something you noticed angered soonyoung more intensely than any other kind of offense. it made you feel more flattered than it should have—how possessive and jealous he got because of these assholes who thought they had any kind of entitlement to you or your body. 

soonyoung had ruined you for anybody else long before you knew this truth about him; he had no reason to feel jealous. still, it made you feel so special, and you didn’t stop to question the toxicity and unhealthiness of everything you’ve been feeling in the last weeks—in the last year.

for the first time in so long, you felt good and you felt safe, and you had no intentions of changing that. you’ve been all in on soonyoung since your first date. this changed nothing. 

so as he started escalating, you started watching. instead of attending job interviews like you claimed to be, you were following him. most of the time, it was just to the writers’ room, but a few times a week, it was to watch him tailing your ex boss. 

between following him around and snooping through his things, it didn’t take long for you to piece together what he was planning, and with how erratic soonyoung’s behavior had gotten since you made the stupid, thoughtless, grave mistake of suggesting knife play in the bedroom, you knew he was going to be prone to mistakes. so you started preparing right alongside him. 

when his gear disappeared from the creaky floorboard he kept it hidden under, you knew it would be time to act soon. then, today, as your boyfriend kissed you goodbye in the morning, he told you not to wait up; the writers room was going to run late to meet deadlines for next week’s episode. 

you’ll give it to him; soonyoung was a really good liar. after all, he has kept this secret from you for a good amount of time. and if he’s so comfortable doing this, you imagine it isn’t his first time killing either. who knows how long he’s been lying to you? 

but now that you were looking for the signs, it was easy to tell. he maintained eye contact too well, like he was actively telling himself to refrain from looking away and seeming suspicious. he smiled a little too hard. offered one too many details if you asked a simple follow-up question. 

“oh okay, what time do you think you’ll be home?”

“fuck, not sure, this episode has a lot of rewrites because one of the actors is throwing a bitch fit about his lines, and they want us back at the drawing board—well, writing board—with, like, three new options for this asshole by tomorrow morning, so. who knows how long that will take. i’ll text you when i’m on my way, though, okay? i love you.”

as soon as he was out the door, you were moving.

you made a trip to your old workplace under the guise of needing a copy of your last paystub from HR, which happened to work right next to your team. while you were there, you made sure you were seen on every camera in the lobby, made sure to say hi to several people—even if some of those people were assholes you wish soonyoung would waste too. you allowed stray hairs to fall from your travel hairbrush. you scratched wildly at your skin. you coughed openly. you gave a valid and proper excuse for your DNA—and trace amounts of soonyoung’s DNA—to end up here other than for a murder.

and when no one was looking, you helped yourself to a jay minion’s cubicle while he was away from it. alex. you pocketed his badge, which he had a bad habit of walking around without, and you scheduled an email from his account addressed to your former boss, knowing full well that a lazy idiot like him would not be noticing a scheduled message in his account.

if soonyoung couldn’t kill him, life in prison was a good alternative. 

once you were done with your part, you went home, dropped your phone off so that it couldn’t be tracked anywhere but home tonight, and packed a bag of extra clothes. then, you followed your doting boyfriend from his job, and once you saw him tuck your drunken former boss into his own car, you raced back to the office, where you were 99.9 percent sure he would be bringing him back. you scanned in using alex’s badge through the backdoor, where there were no cameras, you made your way to your team’s floor, and you waited. 

not long after, when a tall, lean person dressed in the gear you’d found under your boyfriend’s creaky floorboard, walked onto the floor, practically carrying park on his shoulder, it took everything to keep from shrieking and giggling at how well you knew your own boyfriend. 

you watched as he methodically and carefully tied him to his chair, rolled him to the exact spot he wanted him. you watched as he polished an already incredibly clean knife, shuddering uncomfortably a few times as he did. you wondered if it still bothered him—taking life. if maybe he wasn’t as seasoned as you thought, and the act still took something precious from him. 

you hated the idea that something as generous as ridding the world of vermin like your ex-teammates could affect soonyoung like that. 

what you hated even more was how turned on you were watching as he walked back and forth in his disguise, the muscles of his arms and his back still prominent through the tattered robes. but before you could debate jumping out of the shadows and convincing him to just leave and go home with you so you could ride him until dawn, your dumbass boss was waking up again. 

you honestly didn’t know when you were supposed to step out, but the more soonyoung’s love for you shown—the clearer he made it that he truly would do anything for you, the less you cared about staying hidden. 

and before you knew it, you were holding soonyoung’s very own knife, standing in front of a very dead daniel park, covered in his blood and laughing so hard, you thought maybe your nervous system was broken. but when the giggles died down and you didn’t burst into tears the way you expected you would, you knew you were perfectly fine. better than fine. you were thrilled. 

“finally,” you breathe, reaching forward to yank the blanket out of your boss’s mouth, wiping the knife on a cleaner corner. “here you go.”

you hand it over hilt first toward your boyfriend, who’s still standing behind park, splatters of blood all over him too. he gently takes the weapon from you, tucking it somewhere within his robes. you watch him carefully, wondering what his face looks like, wondering what he’s thinking. instead, all you get is that permanent scream on his mask as it stares blankly back at you. 

does he think i’m crazy? does it turn him off? would he rather be the one doing the saving?

you don’t voice any of your insecurities, though. you’re far too happy and relieved to ruin this moment with those thoughts. instead, you take the blanket you’re still holding and you dip it in one of park’s stab wounds until it’s soaked in his blood. you walk to the whiteboard behind his body and swipe at it in broad strokes, stepping back to view your work when you’re done. 

you look back to your boyfriend to see him looking at the whiteboard. 

FINAL

not for park or any of the other men soonyoung obliterated like a hurricane passing through, but for you. the final person standing, with the help of a man who loved you enough to make sure it ended this way. you hope he gets it and that he’s appreciating it the way you are.

while he continues staring at the board, you take the time to reach into the pocket of park’s jacket, fishing his phone out of it. because he treated you like his executive assistant, you knew most of his passwords, and you were banking on it being the same. 

when his phone unlocks, you breathe a sigh of relief. you navigate to his email, pleased to find alex’s email in his inbox just like you planned for it to be. 

to: daniel.park@loomis.com from: alex.cho@loomis.com subject: ! emergency situation, action needed body: mr. park, we have a dire situation at the office that requires your attention. a few of the other team members and i will be working late into the night to remedy this; please stop by the office when you can to discuss next steps.

once you’re sure the message is marked read, you wipe the phone free of your prints with the blanket before tucking it back into his pocket. when you’re done, you let the blanket fall to the ground, eyes going back to your boyfriend, whose gaze is back on you now.

soonyoung still doesn’t say anything, simply walking to the duffle he left in the far corner. he removes his shoes, replacing them with a disposable shoe cover on each foot, before removing yours and doing the same for you, an act that feels so intimate, you’re tempted to take him right here, in the middle of this gore, effectively ruining all your efforts to keep him from getting caught. 

he puts the shoes into spare trash bags and tucks them into his duffle before standing and holding his hand out for you to take. your fears that he’s mad you came here dissolve, and you take his gloved hand in yours. 

he leads you away, picking up your own bag off the floor for you as you pass it. you think he’s leading you out of the building, but instead, you both end up in the showers, an amenity usually meant for commuters or people who went to the gym and worked out in the middle of their work day.

soonyoung sets both of your bags down on one of the benches in the locker room before nodding toward the showers. you follow him wordlessly, heat pooling in your stomach as you do. 

he leads you into a shower stall, turning on the hot water and letting the water hit the both of you fully clothed. he turns around to face you, his mask wet with blood and water as it stares down at you. you hesitantly lift a hand up to rest on the jaw of it. you look up into the black holes of its eyes, hoping he understands you’re asking if you can remove it for him. 

when he doesn’t stop you, you push up on the mask, lifting it completely off his head. the first thing you notice is that soonyoung’s platinum blonde hair is matted to his forehead with sweat, all of his visible skin slick with it. and when you meet his eyes, you’re immediately rooted to the spot, robbed of all air. his pupils are blown, making his eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them as they bore into yours. his mouth is parted, chest heaving as he breathes like he’s been running for hours. 

without giving you a chance to think of your next move, he grabs the mask and chucks it somewhere behind you before wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and roughly pulling you to him. he cranes down to envelope your lips with his, wasting no time parting them and fervently shoving his tongue into your mouth. 

it doesn’t take long for him to get the both of you naked; you’re not even really sure when it happens, but suddenly, he’s kicking your soiled clothes away from the both of you, his hands going from cradling your face to softly running across your shoulders, your back, your ass, and you realize he’s rinsing the death off of you, all while peppering you with feather light kisses as he does. 

you hang your head, resting it against his shoulder as you watch red swirl down the drain, until it’s pink, until it’s clear. you sigh deeply at the sensation of the water pelting your skin and soonyoung’s fingertips dancing across every part of you. he presses his erection in between your thighs at the sound of your breath, and it quickly turns into a moan.

you reach to grip his cock in your hand, fisting it tightly. his breath hitches, and you decide it’s time to thank him for everything he’s done for you these last few months. you lift your head up off his shoulder and reach up to press your lips to his once more, gentle and chaste. 

“thank you,” you whisper. he runs a hand across his face to get water out of his eyes. 

“for what?” he asks, voice husky around the first words he’s said to you since the night started. 

“for loving me like this,” you answer, pumping your first slowly as you speak. “for doing all of this for me… and for letting me be a part of it too.”

soonyoung closes his eyes, resting his forehead against yours, nothing but the sound of the water and his labored breaths as you stroke him filling the room. 

“i love you, y/n,” he says in a voice you haven’t heard from him before. it sounds small, vulnerable, and emotional, and when he opens his eyes, you aren’t surprised to see tears gathered there. “i love you so fucking much.”

you don’t think he’s ever said that to you like this. getting him to even use the word “love” was like pulling teeth in the beginning of your relationship. now, he says it like he’s free of the trauma he’s tied to the word over the years of his childhood. you tiptoe to kiss the tears out of his eyes. 

“i love you,” you return. “and i adore you. forever. now… let me show you.”

you kiss every bit of skin you can on your way down his body, until you’re on your knees. you look up at him one, last time, melting a little at the affection he stares at you with.

“don’t hold back, okay?” 

he curses under his breath before nodding. he reaches one arm across the shower, planting a palm on the wall behind you to steady himself as you take his entire length into your mouth.

“fuck.”

you hollow your cheeks as you slide away, tongue swirling on the underside of his shaft and dragging across the veins of his cock. you wrap one hand at the base tightly before sliding him back in, knowing that taking his entire monster length wasn’t going to be sustainable for you or your throat. you blow him like this—pumping and twisting at the bottom of his shaft with your hand, your other one massaging his balls—for only a few moments before soonyoung absolutely loses it.

and ever eager to please you, he follows your instructions and holds nothing back. he palms the back of your head with his free hand and without warning, starts fucking into your mouth roughly. tears stream down your face, mixing with the hot water of the shower and the precum leaking out of soonyoung. the back of your throat starts to burn early on, but still, you want more. 

your hands grab soonyoung’s ass, bringing him impossibly further into your throat on every thrust. he groans loudly, cursing in between shouts of your name. 

“y/n,” he breathes, slowing his movements after a few minutes until his hips stutter to a full stop. you frown, looking up at him when he pops his cock out of your mouth. “i don’t want to cum in your mouth, baby.”

“why not?” you ask dumbly. 

he laughs, obviously not expecting the question. instead of answering, he pulls you up and onto your feet, steadying you when you realize they’ve fallen asleep from the lack of blood flow. he presses you against the wall, caging you in and pressing his thigh between your legs to keep you standing as you regain the feeling in your legs. you gasp when his quad rests against your clit. 

“there are better places to cum,” he finally answers, just barely moving his thigh against you.

the tiny movement is enough to coax another moan out of you, though. his fingers come down to dive in between your folds and trace your slit teasingly back and forth, gathering your arousal. he brings his fingers up to his mouth, shamelessly taking them in and tasting the way he makes you feel. his eyes close as he savors the taste.

“mmm,” he hums fondly like your lust is a five star meal. he opens his eyes, smirking at the way you’re staring at him. “want to taste?”

you nod eagerly. at this point, you’d take whatever he wanted to give you. you reach forward to kiss him, but he pins your shoulder to the wall with a hand, making you squeak in surprise, and when his other hand comes up your neck and grabs your jaw, tilting it up toward him and forcing your mouth open, you realize what he means and what he wants. 

you fight your own smirk as you open your mouth wider, letting your tongue hang out as far as it will go. he presses his cock against you at the sight, cursing before he takes your face in both his hands, leans over you, and aims, spitting straight into your mouth. you whine pathetically when you feel it hit the back of your throat, immediately grasping both his arms and grinding down against his thigh while it’s still pressed between your legs.

“soonie, please,” you mewl, desperately and messily grabbing at whatever you can at this point just to get him closer to getting inside you, including his hair, his neck, his arms, his hips—anything.

he grabs your wrists when you won’t stop, holding them tightly in between your bodies with one hand, the other cupping your ass and guiding one leg to wrap around his waist, the tip of his cock already teasing your hole. 

“behave,” he hisses, squeezing your wrists until they hurt. you don’t dare wriggle against his hold. “are you going to be good?” you nod. he immediately releases you, guiding one hand to his shoulder to keep yourself steady. 

when both of your hands are wrapped around his shoulders, he takes your other leg and wraps it around his waist too, lifting you up and pinning you between him and the wall. he kisses you harshly and recklessly, tongue wrapping itself around yours as his cock starts to push into you.

he doesn’t wait until he’s fully buried in you the way he usually does. no, tonight, he can’t seem to help himself when he breaks away from you to remind you: “you’re mine.”

you nod, resting your head back against the wall, nails digging into his shoulders as he pushes in further. “yours,” you gasp. “always.”

“god, i love you,” he says for the third time tonight, making the burn feel all the better as he bottoms out. “you’re so perfect,” he breathes, adjusting to the feeling of your cunt around him. “so fucking tight.”

“fuck me, baby” is all you have the energy to whisper. and he delivers. 

he easily bounces you on his dick in time with his own thrusts, the corded muscles of his arms hard, wet, and glistening as he holds you up against the wall. you don’t care how loud you are, letting your screams out as they come. at this point, you’re not sure you even care if the police catch you like this and arrest you. 

all that matters is how soonyoung feels inside of you, how his mouth burns everywhere they press against you, how his fingertips dig into your flesh so hard, you think it’ll bruise. he rests his forehead against yours, holding unwavering eye contact with you as he fucks you like it’s simultaneously the first and last time. 

“marry me,” he whispers suddenly. “fuck. marry me, y/n.”

you gasp as he thrusts hard, tip kissing your cervix. “a-are you s-seriously asking right now?”

he smirks, kissing you quickly before thrusting even faster and harder. the sounds that come out of your mouth are a pitch higher and nastier. “i’ve had a ring for a year. i can’t fucking wait anymore. marry me. god, please marry me.”

you don’t have to think twice. “yes,” you half moan. “yes, soonyoung. yes, i’ll—fuck! i’ll marry you!”

the thought does something to the both of you at the same, exact time, and you’re both shouting warnings at each other as you reach your highs. his teeth sink into your collarbone as he comes inside you, your fist closing around the hair at the nape of his neck as you reach your own climax on his dick too. 

you stay in the same position for a few moments, both trying and failing to catch your breaths. 

when you finally do, you tap soonyoung’s shoulder to let you down, but he refuses, stubbornly staying inside of you. you frown. 

“what are you doing? we should shower and leave,” you point out, remembering there’s an incredibly deceased man outside.

“the longer i stay here, the longer my cum stays inside you, and the greater the chances i just got you pregnant,” he says cheekily. 

you glare at him. “soonyoung, i’m on birth control.”

he glares right back.

“okay, fine,” you relent, laughing. the sensation makes soonyoung wince as you clench around his overstimulated cock a little. “kinda hot, though—you wanting to get me pregnant.”

he raises an eyebrow at you. “oh? another kink of yours?”

you blush, knowing you’ve been somewhat of a sex fiend since discovering your fantasy of having a murderous boyfriend—your reality now, you suppose. “maybe,” you murmur. 

soonyong grins, kissing the pout away from your lips. “good. i’m going to keep trying.”

“okay, well, maybe we should try when we’re not in active danger of going to prison for life?”

“right.”

you both shower quickly, bagging the soiled clothes and changing into the outfits you both packed separately. you watch in awe as soonyoung takes out a blacklight and some kind of cleaning agent to get rid of any blood you both tracked into the shower. most of the evidence, it turns out, is right there in the stall, where his cum leaked out of you. 

when he’s done cleaning, you both head to your cars, each parked in different lots, agreeing to meet at home after you pick up drive-thru dinner and he goes back to work to pick up his phone. and when you do get home, you find that soonyoung beat you there, the apartment dark save for a handful of candles. he’s on one knee when you enter, a small box open and turned toward you, the ring he claimed he got a year ago right there, staring you in the face. 

“i love you,” he says. “i’ll spend the rest of my days loving you the way you deserve to be. adoring you with everything i have. will you allow me the honor of doing that as your husband?”

you don’t know how many times you scream yes at him as you drop the bags of fast food and throw yourself into his arms, the two of you collapsing into a pile of giggles and kisses.

TOP STORY • 2 MIN READ

Copycat serial killer sentenced to life in prison on three counts of torture, six counts of first degree murder

By Gale Weathers

Police investigating the torture and murder of Daniel Park, senior vice president of marketing at Loomis, Inc. two years ago.

Two years after a spree of murders rocked the local community, Alex Cho, former Loomis, Inc. employee, has been sentenced to life in prison, despite pleading not guilty to all charges.

Dubbed the "copycat prank call killer" for the similarities in mutilation amongst victims, Cho was found guilty on all counts of torture and first degree murder for the deaths of six fellow Loomis, Inc. employees, including his boss, Daniel Park, former senior vice president of marketing. Arrested just days after Park's murder, Cho was the authorities' main suspect since day one, according to a statement made by Police Chief Macher following the sentencing.

"Cho's name was on the board since the tragic murder of our first victim, Jay Lang," said Macher, "but as his spree escalated and became more frenzied, he became careless. The evidence against him became insurmountable after the death of Daniel Park."

Though evidence left behind by Cho at the previous murders still has not been disclosed by authorities to this day, his involvement in Park's torture and murder is clear. On the night of Park's death, Cho lured him to the office after-hours under the guise of a work emergency. Once there, Cho ambushed and tortured his boss before stabbing him almost 30 times and leaving his body to be found by other employees the next morning.

Police were able to arrest Cho early on, thanks to his email trail and the use of his badge at the Loomis, Inc. headquarters, just minutes before Park entered the building himself.

When asked about the sentencing of their former employee, a Loomis, Inc. representative told TOP STORY:

"Even two years on, we continue to mourn our tragically lost employees. As such, Loomis offers all our associates ongoing mental health resources and grief counseling. We also honor these victims with annual donations to various campaigns, including cancer research, LGBT support, and anti-bullying—all causes our former SVP of marketing Daniel Park championed. As for the sentenced individual, Loomis declines to comment, but ensures you that we are taking extra precautions and measures to vet all new employees, with annual mental evaluations of all existing employees. We are committed to the safety of our people, our clients, and all of our stakeholders."

As far as his "copycat" reputation goes, Cho denies drawing inspiration from the "prank call killer," though he continues to deny his involvement in the crimes at all. As of the publication of this article, the "prank call killer" remains an at-large, inactive serial killer, with the last victim dating back over 10 years ago.

Cho will be transferred to a maximum state prison later this month, where he will serve his life sentence with no chance of parole.

──── Share this story on social media

🎞️ a portion from an early draft of the script for cult classic horror movie, “adoration,” by renowned screenwriter kwon soonyoung

HOSHI (clicks out of video news story of andrew's arrest) i can't believe you did all that for me.

YOUR ALIAS (smiles, scratching his scalp comfortingly with her left hand, eyes admiring the ring on her finger as she does) i told you, i would do anything for you. you protect me, i protect you, right?

HOSHI (smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to hers) always.

fades into black. credits roll.

...

POST-CREDITS SCENE

a long while later, audience finds hoshi and his wife in the kitchen of a much larger home now, seemingly as in love and as playful as they always were. they are interrupted by their teen daughter running into the room, with her backpack still on, screaming and crying. both of them immediately tend to her.

YOUR ALIAS baby, what's wrong? what happened?

DAUGHTER (shrieks) it's tiffany! she's going around telling everybody i'm sleeping with the entire baseball team! i've never even had my first kiss and she knows that!

hoshi stills, face becoming eerily blank. you both exchange a look.

YOUR ALIAS you're only 15... why on earth are they talking about those kinds of things?

DAUGHTER (throws mom an incredulous look) all of them have already lost their virginities, mom!

YOUR ALIAS (pinching the bridge of her nose) dear god.

DAUGHTER she gave my number to a bunch of dudes and now they're calling and texting and blowing up my phone asking me when i'm free to do... gross things! (wails)

YOUR ALIAS we'll change your number, baby, don't worry. and i'll meet with your principal and make sure she knows we won't tolerate this behavior, okay? are you alright if i talk to tiffany's mom?

DAUGHTER no, please don't, she's so vindictive. i know it'll just get worse.

hoshi exhales slowly.

HOSHI okay, we won't do anything you aren't comfortable with, but... you're also not going to let her treat you like that, do you hear me?

it's clear their daughter is a daddy's girl when her crying immediately stops and she nods.

HOSHI no one hurts you, understand?

YOUR ALIAS nobody.

DAUGHTER (whispers, still sniffling) nobody.

HOSHI if you won't let us talk to tiffany's parents, we're going to have to show you how to defend yourself, baby. how to stand up for yourself.

YOUR ALIAS (smiles) your daddy is really good at that. you'll let him help, right? (daughter nods) good, go get cleaned up and i'll order whatever takeout you want.

DAUGHTER (immediately) thai.

YOUR ALIAS thai it is. go on.

their daughter retreats from the kitchen, still sniffling as she goes up to her bedroom.

YOUR ALIAS we aren't going to stoop so low as to kill a teenager, are we?

HOSHI (snorts, wraps one arm around her waist) no, we aren't. but kids like that only learn behavior like that from one place.

YOUR ALIAS their parents.

HOSHI mhm.

YOUR ALIAS you have the key to the storage unit?

HOSHI mhm. (plants one kiss on her cheek before grinning and nodding to the front door) i'll drive.

cuts to black with the sound of a piercing scream.

a/n: credit for the news story photo goes to unsplash. all other photos taken from pinterest, ctto. okay bye, i don't want to talk about how crazy i feel LMFAO.

[tellyreviews]

Kumkum Bhagya Spoiler Buzz: Is Bua Maa Really Going to Shoot Prathana?

Kumkum Bhagya Spoiler Buzz: Is Bua Maa Really Going to Shoot Prathana? Shivansh’s Heroic Move Sparks Fan Frenzy! Zee TV’s long-running drama Kumkum Bhagya is once again making headlines—not for what has happened, but for what might. The rumour mill is on fire with whispers about an explosive twist that could shake up the dynamics between Shivansh, Prathana, and the ever-intense Bua Maa. So, what’s got fans biting their nails this time? The Wild Twist: Gunshots, Sacrifice, and a Love Tested If social media leaks and set whispers are to be believed (emphasis on if), an upcoming track might showcase Bua Maa pointing a gun at Prathana in a moment of rage. The drama? Shivansh steps in just in time—possibly even taking a bullet for the woman he’s just started falling for. Yes, you heard that right. The once-broken bond between Shivansh and Prathana is slowly being stitched back together, but not everyone is thrilled about it. Bua Maa, in particular, seems to be on the edge—and if these rumours are anything to go by, she’s ready to pull the trigger. Literally. But wait, don’t set your alarms just yet. This track hasn’t been confirmed by the channel or any official source. As of now, it remains a spicy possibility being stirred in the fan circuits and spoiler circles. Shivansh’s Stand: From Indifference to Devotion? The heart of this alleged twist is Shivansh’s emotional turnaround. Just a few episodes ago, he was distant and unsure about Prathana. But things have changed. Slowly, he’s begun to see her in a new light—so much so that, reportedly, he’s willing to risk his life for her. If true, this could mark the real beginning of their love story—the kind of drama fans live for. Could this bullet scene be the defining moment that shifts the entire narrative? Bua Maa: The New Villain in Town? Bua Maa has always been fierce, but this track (rumoured, again!) could push her character into full-blown antagonist territory. Threatening Prathana and trying to control Shivansh’s choices might just backfire—especially if it ends up bringing the lovebirds closer. Fan Reactions: Excited or Anxious? “If Shivansh takes a bullet for Prathana, I’ll scream! We finally get our Prashiv moment!” a fan posted excitedly. “Please let this be a real track and not just a fake spoiler. We need some solid drama!” another added. Still, some fans remain cautious, pointing out that Kumkum Bhagya has teased many big twists in the past that fizzled out or got replaced last-minute. So, What’s the Truth? At this point, nothing is confirmed. No promos. No official teasers. Just strong buzz and whispers that something major is brewing. Whether or not Shivansh actually takes the bullet, one thing is clear—Kumkum Bhagya knows how to keep its audience hooked with just the possibility of high-octane drama. Stay tuned, because if this rumoured track turns real, it could be the plot shake-up we didn’t know we needed. Read the full article

[k1ng0fn0b0dy]

💜 DAY 2 OF MONSTER WEEK — WEREWOLF TECHNOBLADE

[1500+ words]

[Gender-Neutral]

Description: It's in the title. You wander into a forest and meet a huge wolf, bonding ensues.

[Read the rest under the cut]

You had been adopted a few weeks ago. The couple, Mr and Mrs. Bagans, who adopted you were on the older side, feeling more like grandparents than parents. You didn't mind though, you were too old to have people parent you now.

The town you moved to was on the more rural side. It wasn't small by any means but most of the fields were full of crops with walkable trails to most of the town. In fact, there was even a forest right behind your new backyard, though you'd have to hop the wooden fence.

Of course, like any normal teenager, you hop the fence regularly. It's not really your fault. With the town being as close-knit as it is, you had to go somewhere isolated to get any real free time, without the pressure of ruining your new and tentative relationships within the town.

The forest is full of noise. You can hear all kinds of critters around you, though your personal favorite are the chipmunks. They're very cute and they always give you a wide berth, which is appreciated.

You had liked to think you knew the forest pretty well so far, emphasis on had. You don't know what confidence had overcome you today but you walked farther into the forest than you ever have before. So far, in fact, that you've found yourself lost as the sun starts dipping, casting the forest into a chilling darkness.

Your only comfort was it was still loud. All the critters were awake, so you weren't alone. At this point, you were trying your best to find something familiar, although you weren't quite sure if you were going further into the forest or out of it. Guess you'll find out eventually.

Eventually, the sun really was gone and the forest was quieter. You had to face the truth now, you were lost. Your heart pounded in your chest, as if to fill the void of silence. It was so loud that for a second you didn't realize how quiet everything had gone.

Your breath hitched despite yourself and you pressed yourslef into a tree, waiting to see what had made all the animals flee. Rapidly, something ran towards you. Something big, with heavy footsteps and an imposing shadow.

You were going to die, alone in a forest where no one would ever find your bones. You would never have Mrs. Bagans' deicious apple pie again or go pick up groceries with Mr. Bagans in his old, bruised truck. Immediately, you started crying.

You could care less how snotty your nose had gotten. The only things around were bugs and they woudn't be able to tell your embarrasing last moments if someone did manage to find your body. You were already on the floor by now, sobbing harder now that it had gone silent again. Now you really were alone.

Slowly something walked towards you with obvious, heavy footsteps. You're mid-wiping your tears away when you look up, instantly screaming.

The wolf was about 10x larger than any wolf you've ever seen and didn't instantly pounce when you screamed. Actually, you were pretty sure it had winced.

When you had stopped screaming, though heaven only knows how long that had taken, you were crying again. You felt like a crybaby with how much you've been crying and obviously, the wolf thought so too. it plopped only the forest floor, seemingly bored by your tears.

You didn't wipe away the tears this time, worried that maybe if you looked away, it would attack. it didn't though. You were just both staring at each other, silently.

Now, you wouldn't say you're a nervous talker. Although, in another (more honest) way, you were absolutely a nervous talker. "Hi," Your voice wobbled like you were seconds away from crying (you were). "Mr. Terrifying Wolf, please don't kill me."

The wolf huffed like it was offended at the thought. You nodded like it made any sense at all. "I didn't mean to interrupt you with my crying." Definitely true, although technically it was the reason you were crying in the first place. "You're good to leave, please."

You whispered that last bit under your breath but Mr. Terrifying Wolf definitely heard you. Its lip raised in an almost snarl that fell quickly when you whimpered. "Sorry, I'm sorry. You can leave whenever you want."

"I'm lost right now," You continued, not even taking a breath. You were scared that if you tried, you wouldn't be able to. "I don't know how far from I am from town. I've only been in Fleurrh for two weeks. I don't even know if people will look for me, they hardly know me."

You burry your head in your lap, "I sound crazy right now. Rambling to a wolf because I'm scared I might die. Maybe dying would be easier at this point, I would stop worrying."

It stared at you, emotionless, before slowly standing up. Now that you saw it at its full height, without tears blocking your sight, you could tell it was definitely 10x larger than any regular wolf, maybe even bigger.

You pressed your eyes closed and ducked your head again, trying not to start crying again. it was walking towards you, maybe it finally got hungry again. Maybe you were finally going to die.

A hard, sand-paper-like surface, uncomfortably damp, licked the side of your face. Your eyes popped open on their own, staring, dumbfounded at the large wolf. It stepped back with a very dissatisfied face like your salty, teary face tasted worse than whatever raw mouse it had eaten before this. it stamped its foot down, looking like a particularly upset dog, and stared at you expectantly.

You leaned heavily against the tree you had been sitting at as you stood, slowly. Mr. Terrifying Wolf paws at the ground and you slowly walked toward him. "What's happening right now? Am I really listening to a wolf right now?"

Mr. Terriffying Wolf stared you down and you shut your mouth. He turned away and you muttered, "This is a very bad plan. I'm going to get myself killed." Then, you started following slowly as Mr. Terrifying Wolf leads you deeper (out of?) the forest.

"This is pretty," You mumble as he leads you in a canopy, full of far more light than the rest of the forest. Mr. Terrifying Wolf plops himself down on a bed of grass so you sit down too, a bit too close to them than you'd like.

"It's so cold here," You complain quietly. You were so sure Mr. Terrifying Wolf was already asleep but he peeks over at you lazily, letting you know he was not, in fact, asleep. "Sorry," You murmur, "I guess I didn't prepare for getting lost in the woods today."

Mr. Terrifying wolf huffs, like you were joking. To spite him, you nod, "Honestly, if this had happened on Tuesday, I would've brought my lost-in-the-woods coat and worn my lost-in-the-woods shoes."

You swear that if this wolf had been human, he'd be smiling. Actually, now that you think about it, "You act oddly human."

"I mean," You speed your way through saying, "You didn't hurt me. You understand me. You even brought me here." You look over and stare quietly for a second, he stares back. "You're a lot smarter than most humans..."

Mr Terrifying Wolf closes his eyes and you let the conversation die there. You sigh deeply and turn away, curling into yourself and letting yourself go. As you drift into an uneasy sleep, you can almost feel fur brushing against your chin.

{《☆》}

You wake up warm, hands tangled into soft sheets. Your eyes burn as you sit upright, the sun blinding you. You look around rapidly, seeing no trees, no wolf. Just strong, white walls and the clean white bedsheets you're tangled in.

When someone walks in, you find out that you had been found at the hospital's door easily in the morning. Covered in dirt and fur. Mr. and Mrs. Bagans worried over you the entire week, insisting to take the blame for your own reckless actions. In fact, everyone in the town seemed to be oddly kind to you, though your only guess is that they pity you for getting lost. Quite embarrassing.

It's only two weeks after being found that you manage to get some free time and sneak back into the forest.

You don't wander far, he finds you first. He stomps his feet at you and you smile, feeling that same fearless confidence that got you lost the first time as you walk over, petting his soft fur. "Thank you. You're very kind."

Mr. Terrifying but Nice Wolf huffs but leans into your hands. He pulls away a minute later and disappears into the trees. You wait a moment and a pink-haired man, tall and menacing, steps out of the trees your wolf friend dissapeared into.

"Nice to meet you," You stick your hand out, "I'm Y/N."

Mr. Terrifying but Nice Werewolf huffs, familiar and harmless, and shakes your hand. "Technoblade."

{《☆》}

[WHOOOO DAY TWO OF MONSTER FUCKERS WEEK (ignore that its a few hours late)]

[Anyways, go check out the Prompt List to see who's next. Take care of yourself, charge your phone and drink some water! PEOPLE CARE ABOUT YOUUUU!]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

[sideblog-usernametaken]

I feel like a lot of the rage at Stella's characterization comes from people making assumptions in the early episodes, and then not being able when those assumptions are proved wrong later on.

Spoilers under the Read More

So the earliest we get to see Stella (Outside her blink-and-you-miss-it appearance in the pilot) is in Episode 2. For the few moments she shows up she's making a massive deal about Stolas cheating on her. Screaming insults at him, throwing things, ect. With a surface level reading, I can see people believing that this is all new behavior that's completely caused by Stolas cheating. With that line of thinking, it's easy to believe that Stella really cared about their relationship and Stolas genuinely hurt her by cheating.

But if you pay any further attention, that's clearly not the case. The entire time she's screaming at him, it isn't about how he cheated on her, it's about how he cheated on her with an Imp. She calls him a disgrace, an embarrassment, but nothing to imply that she cared about the relationship more than its appearance. When she complains it happened in their bed, and Stolas said he "didn't have time to find a motel" her response isn't "That's still cheating!" it's "A motel?! Like a plebeian?!" None of her dialogue actually shows she's angry about the cheating itself. Plus she's extremely haphazard about throwing things, she almost hits Octavia with a potted plant and doesn't react to almost hitting her daughter. Speaking of Octavia, Stella doesn't seem concerned that she can hear her screaming and breaking stuff, or concerned what kind of emotional impact that has on her daughter. The scene very clearly shows that she's classist and doesn't really care about anyone around her.

Then you look at Stolas' behavior in the scene. He doesn't seem at all surprised and he doesn't have any reaction to his plants being thrown around. He seems to have air of resignation about the whole thing. Then he sees his daughter, and he realizes she saw and heard everything. And he immediately switches to his "Everything is fine! How are you doing?" setting. It doesn't work, and he immediately realizes that and tries switching tactics to "Hey let's talk about something you like, what are you listening to?". Then when the band name is a direct insult to him he's concerned but just let's it roll, either because he understands why she might hate him right now (I'll get to it) or because he's so used to having to shrug off insults that it's just his default response. When Octavia asks if they're "done screaming for the day" and Stella immediately proves "no" by audibly screaming and breaking another pot, Stolas switches tactics again to getting her out of the house to somewhere he thinks she'll like. Yeah he's not exactly doing a good job of comforting her because he's kind of glossing over everything that's happening (And how he decides to bring Blitzø with them. I have my thoughts on that too but this is long enough as is and there is no time to unpack that) but you can still see that he at least cares. He doesn't want Octavia to have to deal with her parents fighting, he doesn't want it to be something she's constantly bogged down by.

Also this all comes after the even earlier, even shorter scence, where Octavia has a nightmare. She ends up waking up both Stolas and Stella, Stolas says "Via is calling us Stella" (Emphasis added by myself not the show) and Stella grumpily refuses to get out of bed and tells him to go handle it himself. It implies Stolas was going to go anyway but he wanted Stella to come with, and Stella just refuses. The way he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose (beak?) after sitting up implies that he's used to that kind of reaction from her.

Side note: The scene also shows Stella is a blanket hog. That itself isn't like an indicator of abuse or anything but it makes for good visual shorthand of just how little Stella cares about Stolas.

It's just, so much of this short scene seems to fly over people's heads. It very clearly shows that Stella behaves abusively and the scene before it shows that Stella and Stolas didn't have a good relationship to start with. It's just that they saw cheating, know cheating is wrong, and then decided that since Stella had been cheated on it justifies all of her behavior.

Also as for Octavia's clear disdain for Stolas in her first appearance: One has to keep in mind that he was intentionally keeping her away from the worst of the abuse for her entire life. It's only recently she seen her parents fighting and since it's always Stella yelling about something Stolas did, naturally she blames him for breaking the family's peace. Then he introduces her to the guy he cheated on her mom with and spends most of the day paying more attention to him than he does to her. She thinks that he likes Blitzø more than her, that if he's messing things up at home and not even reacting to her discontent that she must be low on his list of priorities. Their talk in the apple ride is what convinces her that's not the case, he finally drops the "Everything is fine!" attitude and starts actually listening to her, directly addressing her concerns and trying to give her a clear answer. The only thing Stolas says without hesitation or confusion is that he's not going to leave her, and with everything going on that's what she cares about.

You can even see it in the second episode she's in. Her parents are getting divorced and she's still estatic over the thought of spending the day with her dad and going to Earth to star gaze. She accepts that her parents don't get along, maybe she's realized they never did in the first place, but the divorce itself is still distrupting her life. If it wasn't interfering with her, I doubt she'd care much (I don't mean this in a "She's selfish" way but a "She understands her parents are better off separated and is at peace with that" way [Also, for perspective, I'm saying this as a child of divorce who came to the same conclusion]). It's when he Stolas stops listening to her again because he's so focused on the divorce that she gets upset. Which of course by the end of the episode she realizes that Stolas does still care about her and if he had realized what day it was he probably would've brought her to see the meteor shower. Octavia is legitimately just a teenager who's having a hard time and the narrative never potrays her as being wrong for that. She steals a powerful artifact and instead of being scolded or punished she's met with concern and acceptance. People who are mad at Octavia, or mad at how the story frames her, just don't understand what the story is trying to do with her.

It's just, very frustrating how incredibly obtuse some people can be with the analysis of these characters.

Everyone’s obsession with trying to justify Stella’s behavior is sooo icky to me.

“Well why they write her like that just as a prop to make Stolas look better.”

Has it ever occurred to you through the process of making a story certain characters exist to be a foil to the main protagonists. That not all characters are meant to be sympathetic or to be sympathized with and that’s not a fault in writing.

Someone being a villain character isn’t bad writing, and not having a character entire story before a show is over and claiming how under developed a character is- well a little idiotic.

Events have to happen in a certain order in a story for it to make sense, I’m sure we’ll find out more about Stella as the show goes on.

And there is also the huge can of worms of people trying to justify Stella’s actions. Male victims of abuse are hardly ever shown. Why are you trying to make Stella seem like the good person in this?

Yes it was an arranged marriage, yes it’s fair to say Stella was unhappy about that. That does not justify Stella abusing Stolas. Guess what Stolas was never happy about the arranged marriage either. Not to mention he is literally a gay man, but he didn’t become abusive.

“Oh but he cheated on her.”

Yeah after almost two decades of being abused and in a loveless hollow marriage. That’s hardly the same as being abused. Also that’s pretty common to happen to people being abused it’s behavior of someone trying to get out of a bad situation.

Y’all keep saying there is no depth and then try and take it out the messy nature of these things.

Legitimately if Stolas was a woman and Stella a man you’d all be praising Stolas. Support male domestic abuse victims and stop justifying abusive woman.

And of course that’s not saying you can’t like Stella as a character, just stop trying to make her seem like the victim. Stop saying you love her as a character and then going “well why did they write them like this, why didn’t they write them as having a friendly relationship.” Because that’s not the story being told.

And while I’m at it I know some people hate Octavia but she’s honestly great from what we’ve seen of her. “Why does he hate her more than he loves me?” As someone who grew up around this situation in my older teen I felt that. I felt that hard, these things are complicated for all people involved.

[moonlit-jeno]

red door, yellow door (m.)

pairing: mark lee x fem reader x jung jaehyun

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | demon au | slight dubcon??? the mans a lust demon idk | Very mild horror themes | minor mlm | don’t attempt this game pls !!!

words: 8.1k

a/n: this is a repost from my old bts blog! pls don’t ask abt it bc i no longer actively follow bts :)

One of these days, you’re going to kill your coworkers.

You love them, you really do, but sometimes they can just be so dumb. It was Donghyuck and Renjun who came up with the idea to play this stupid game, one that is probably only played by naive 12 year old girls during slumber parties.

Normally you’d just brush it off, but Renjun had called you a wimp, so naturally you had to do it. Which is how you’ve ended up on your back with your best friend massaging circles into your forehead.

“Red door, yellow door, any other color door,” is being chanted around the room. You fight the urge to move your neck to a more comfortable position on Mark’s lap. Your hand twitches above your head, where your arms are raised. “This is stupid,” You whisper, and Mark laughs, scolding you lightly.

After a while, the mindless chanting lulls you to sleep, and you feel yourself drift off.

“What do you see?”

Two doors appear in front of you, one red and one yellow. They both look kind of old, paint chipping and peeling off.

“Anything else?”

A black door appears next to the yellow one and you find yourself drawn to it, wanting to go in. This one is shinier, considerable newer and more inviting compared to the other two

“Go in.”

You open the door and walk through, a sense of relief flooding through your senses as you give in to the pull. The room that you find yourself in seems never ending, the only thing in it a large bed.

“Do you see anyone?”

A man appears, sitting on the bed. The suit he’s wearing is unfitting for the plain surroundings- in fact, he’s unfitting for the surroundings in general. His teeth are blinding white when he smiles, not a hair out of place on his entire head. He’s attractive, all golden skin and beautiful features. Almost too beautiful. A shiver crawls up your spine, a tinge of discomfort bleeding into your senses. He smiles, dimples popping out, and you push the discomfort to the back of your mind.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out distant to your own ears, echoing around you.

“Call me Jaehyun. Why don’t you come here, little bird? We can get properly acquainted.” The voice sounds haunting, like a distorted video. You wouldn’t believe that he’s speaking if his lips didn’t move in sync. Despite the unnatural voice sounding warning bells in your brain, you find yourself moving forward automatically and settling down on his lap when he pats his thigh for emphasis.

“And what’s your name, little bird?” He trails a hand up and down your thigh and you shiver, leaning back against him. He chuckles when you tell him your name, a pleased smile lighting up his features.

“Well, little bird, seems that we’re going to have some fun together.”

Your name is being echoed all around you, and you wake with a jolt, eyes flying open to see Mark staring at you.

“Are you okay?” The rest of your group is also gathered around you, standing in a half circle.

“Yeah, just fell asleep for a bit. Why?” You push yourself onto your elbows, sitting up so that you can lean against Mark.

Donghyuck plops down on the floor, sitting so that he’s facing you. “You were talking like you were having a conversation with someone. Who was it?”

You shrug, trying not to dull his excitement. “I don’t know, just some guy.”

“Was he wearing a suit?” Renjun asks, standing behind Hyuck. He grimaces when you nod. “Y/n, we literally told you not to talk to anyone in a suit. We told you not to talk to anyone. It’s in the rules.”

You roll your eyes, knowing how serious he gets when it comes to stuff like this. “Relax, it’s fine. He seemed nice, and it’s not like it was anything real.”

Renjun still doesn’t look convinced, but Mark interrupts his paranoia by doing what he’s best- or worst, depending on who you ask- at, cracking jokes.

“Hey, was he eating deviled eggs?” He laughs at his own joke, and everyone else groans. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. His place was probably such a hellhole.” The bad mood dissolves into jokes and loud laughter for the rest of the night.

You leave the party- or gathering as Donghyuck had called it because it sounded more mysterious- when it starts storming. The rain drenches you and pretty much everyone else that’s sitting on the porch, leaving you scrambling for shelter. Luckily, Mark offers you a ride.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Mark hollars out the window of his truck, his words getting lost in the night as he speeds off. His truck hits a pothole and you can imagine him swearing as his head hits the roof. Giggling to yourself, you unlock your apartment and slip inside. It’s close to 2 in the morning, so you decide that if you’re already not going to get that much sleep, why not binge Shameless?

You only get through two episodes before your eyelids feel heavy, and you have to fight to keep them open. On screen, there’s a bar fight that you try to take interest in, but sleep quickly pulls you under.

“Welcome back, little bird.” The voice is all around you, but no matter how much you turn and search, no one’s to be found.

“Turn around, little bird, I am here.” Spinning abruptly, you come face to face with the man from earlier, Jaehyun. He gives you a chilling grin.

“So we meet again,” he starts, and his voice no longer sounds eerie or inauthentic. He sounds like, well, a normal man. “Tell me, what would you do if I were to kiss you?”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips on instinct. “Depends. Are you a good kisser?” You aim for coy, but you miss the mark and land closer to worried.

“You could say that.” He pulls you close with one hand on the back of your head, stopping right before your lips. “May I?”

You nod, and he pulls you in for a gentle, closed mouth kiss.

It’s like that touch ignites a fire in you, because before you know it, your arms are thrown around his neck, dragging him closer to deepen the kiss. You lick along his lower lip and he readily grants you access, a throaty groan leaving him when you suck on his tongue. Liquid heat courses through your veins when he nips at your lower lip, tongue flicking over it in apology. You moan, raw and needy. He likes that, if the chuckle and wicked grin is anything to go by. Picking you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, he walks over to a bed that definitely wasn’t there before.

He drops you on the bed, and then suddenly you’re both naked. Jaehyun leans over you, all lean muscles and golden skin. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his legs, and you have the urge to swallow him down. He groans, as if reading your mind, and then reaches to pump himself slowly, long fingers wrapped around the length. “Not now, little bird, not now. I have something else in mind.” With one gentle push to your shoulders, you’re lying flat on the bed, Jaehyun between your legs. His mouth hovers over your core, already wet and dripping despite not having been touched. He plays idly with the slick on your upper thigh, drawing random patterns into the flesh. His eyes are dark, and you could swear that they’re entirely black, no white visible. He peers curiously up at you from between your legs, watching your reaction as his fingers get closer and closer to where you want him. Your breathing picks up as arousal thrums through your body, center pulsing and aching for some sort of relief.

“May I have you?” His breath ghosts over your center when you speak, the sensation making you even needier. 

You nod quickly. “Take it, fuck, you have all of me.” He grins, wasting no time in diving in. His tongue feels impossibly good, licking up your folds and circling over your clit. He leaves sloppy kisses along your core, one hand massaging your thigh and keeping you spread open. You cry out when his tongue pushes into you, his nose brushing your clit and sending sparks up your spine.

His tongue feels impossibly long, so good inside of you that you feel like you’re losing your mind. Your hips buck up desperately, riding his face to hell and back. One arm gets thrown over your stomach to keep you in place while two fingers from his free hand dip into your soaking core, curling into that spot immediately. Stars flash behind your eyes, one hand coming down to fist in Jaehyun’s hair. Your feet scramble frantically along his back, heels digging in in an effort to anchor yourself, toes curling at the sensations singing through you.

You feel your orgasm drawing closer, heat pooling in your center. You whimper brokenly as you try to chase after your high, grinding your hips along his tongue. He lets you, just holding his tongue flat out for you to ride.

You come like that, falling apart on his tongue, screams of his name falling from your lips. He works you through it, tongue gently licking along your folds, slurping up your arousal as if he hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

You lay there, boneless and whimpering weakly through the aftershocks until Jaehyun pulls away to kiss up your body. He licks into your mouth hotly, reminding you that he hasn’t come yet. You bat weakly at his chest, pushing him onto his back. “Your turn,”

He groans in appreciation at the view of you above him. “So perfect, little bird. I’m gonna have so much fun with your soul.”

This sentence freezes you in your spot. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Jaehyun meets your gaze, black eyes entrancing you. “That means, y/n, that I’m going to have your soul. You belong to me now, hmm?” One of his hands plays gently with a strand of your hair. “That’s what you agreed to earlier, no?”

“N-no.” You try backing away, but the inhuman voice from earlier is back, echoing everywhere, repeating his words over and over until you can’t take it anymore-

You wake with a gasp, hitting your head as you sit up. Your computer is still on your lap, episode fifteen playing. Fuck, you’ve only been asleep for forty five minutes. It’s not even three yet, and you don’t have to go to work until eight. Deciding there’s no way you’re falling back asleep, you get up and decide to bake.

Five hours later, your coworkers love you when you show up with containers of cinnamon rolls, five different types of cookies, and a coffee cake. Mark looks mildly worried.

“You okay? I haven’t seen you bake since high school.” You snap out of your thoughts and turn to face Mark. The look of concern on your best friend’s face is enough to make you feel guilty and you nod, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Had a bad dream last night and couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You respond, trying not to show how bothered you actually are.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mark leans forward over his desk, chin planted on his hand.

“No, it’s gonna sound dumb.” You whine, shaking your head. And it is dumb, even to you. You’re scared because you had a dream that some man ate you out and then told you he was going to take your soul?

“Well, you always sound dumb. Of course your dreams are gonna be dumb.” Mark laughs as you chuck a piece of cake at him, infectious laugh soothing you. You sigh.

Mark raises his eyebrows at you when you finish telling him your dream. “You’re scared because you had a wet dream? Damn, I’d be living in a nightmare if I was scared after every wet dream I’ve had.”

You kick him under the table. “Mark! It was really scary. He told me he was going to take my soul!”

Upon seeing that you’re actually freaked out, his face softens. “Look, y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You probably just thought that he was hot, and your brain remembered his face and put it in a dream. I wouldn’t worry about it; what’s the worst he’s gonna do, haunt you?”

You give a shaky nod, agreeing. It’s not like something from your dreams could actually harm you. Mark reaches across the desk, taking your hand in his and giving a tight squeeze, warm brown eyes gazing at you openly. “And if something does happen, just remember that I’m your best friend. I’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks, Mark. Means a lot to me.”

He leans back in his seat. “Anytime, anyplace, anything. Triple A.”

You smile, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?”

His eyes go wide, taking in the glint in your eyes. “Within reason.”

“How about a sip of coffee?” You nod down at his cup, pasting a huge smile on your face.

“I did say within reason, so no.”

You huff. “I expected that.”

Although you don’t scare easily, it’s safe to say that you’re a bit unsettled tonight, especially after your nightmare last night. You find yourself jumping at every little noise, hand slamming the light switch on with your pulse racing every five minutes. This has been going on for an hour, and after a final sweep of your room reveals nothing, you decide that maybe a face mask will help you relax.

Your bathroom has two mirrors facing each other, which is normally a blessing when you do your hair, but tonight it does nothing but make you want to hide under your blankets.

Get a grip on yourself, you chastise, grabbing your phone and opening spotify. Maybe some music will help? You click on your Christmas playlist because what better way to cheer up than to think about your favorite holiday?

A mistake, really, because it seems that you’ve forgotten how creepy Santa is.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake,” Yikes. You stop that song in a hurry, feeling anything but comforted. No music then, noted.

You reach for your face wash, turning the sink on and waiting for the water to warm. You can’t help but glance in the mirror behind you every so often, paranoia getting the best of you. Man, you feel pathetic, worrying about monsters in your closet like you’re six and not twenty-six.

You wash your face quickly, hoping that your fears will wash away as well. No such luck.

You swear you see something move behind you after you dry your face off, but there’s nothing there. Shaking it off, you reach for your face mask, taking your time painting your face with the green clay.

It’s after your face is coated that you spot someone in the glass behind you. You scream, whipping around to come face to face with a man. Not just any man- Jaehyun.

Your heart thunders in your chest, eyes widening in fear. He seems to be in the mirror, copying your petrified expression mockingly.

“Hello, little bird.” He purrs, smirking lightly.

“Are you- are you in my mirror?” You’re in disbelief, mind struggling to comprehend this. First you spot him while in a weird trance, then in a dream, and now in your mirror? Maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis.

“No, I am not. Mirrors are just gateways to alternate dimensions. I’m merely using the mirror to visit you.” He says this like it’s common knowledge. It feels like your throat is made of sandpaper with how hard it is to choke out your words. “O-okay. I’m just gonna- yeah.”

You grab your phone from the counter and bolt, fumbling for your keys before jumping into your car and speeding off in the direction of Mark’s house. You call him, fingers fumbling on the screen. He goes to voicemail the first time, and your heart drops. “No, no, no,” you whisper frantically, calling again. He does pick up this time.

“Y/n? It’s the middle of the night.” His voice sounds gruff, and you feel guilty for waking him up. One glance in your rear view mirror reveals that Jaehyun is joining you on this ride, and you scream, car swerving violently to one side before you straighten it out.

“Where are we going, little bird?”

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Mark’s voice has lost its sleepy edge, taking on a concerned tone. He says your name again, more frantic.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your tires squeal as you make a turn, now only two blocks away. “Can I- can I come over? I really need to be with someone right now.”

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome. The door’s unlocked.”

You hang up, willing the tears in your eyes to not spill over. Finally arriving, you slam on the breaks and haphazardly pull next to a curb, yanking the key out of the ignition and sprinting to Mark’s house.

You lock the door behind you when you step inside, testing the handle as if a door could stop a mirror traveling demon or whatever the fuck Jaehyun was from coming inside. “Mirrors,” you mumble, reaching the stairs.

“Y/n? What’s-” Mark stands at the top of the stairs, one hand rubbing at his eyes. You cut him off, flying up the stairs.

“Mirrors, fuck. Mark, we need to cover the mirrors!” You breeze by his shocked figure, not noticing the way he turns to stare at you incredulously.

“What, why? Y/n, are you crazy?”

Ignoring him, you throw a towel over the mirror in his bathroom, ripping open a pack of bandaids to use as adhesive.

You throw another towel over the mirror in his bedroom, collapsing on his bed when you’re done and finally allowing yourself to sob.

“Y/n, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Mark, as gentle and caring as ever, comes over to sit next to you, one hand combing through your hair.

“I- don’t laugh at me.” You stare him straight in the eye, pleading with him. You know you’re going to sound crazy, but you’re praying that your best friend listens to you. He nods, urging you to go on.

“That- that man I saw in my dream and during whatever fucked up game Hyuck had us play? He was in my fucking mirror, Mark. I- the whole night, I had this feeling that I was being watched, and then I went into my bathroom and he was just there, and-” You’re hyperventilating at this point, fighting for every breath, tears clouding your vision. “He was in my car, in the rear view mirror-” Mark pulls you closer, enveloping you in his arms and allowing you to sob loudly into his chest. You cry for a few minutes, until you’re finally able to pull yourself together.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’ve had a rough week, I know. It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

He wipes a tear away from your check, patting you lightly. “Why don’t you go wash this off, okay? We can watch a movie after.” He offers, and until that point, you’d forgotten you were wearing a face mask. You grimace at the green imprint on his black shirt, but he just chuckles. “I’ll go grab you some water in the meantime.”

Nodding, you garner up the energy to walk to his bathroom. It’s fine, the mirror’s covered, he can’t hurt you. You close the door just in case, wanting an extra level of protection

You rinse your face with cold water, hoping that it will clear your mind. You give your face a couple more splashes before drying off with a towel.

“You missed a spot on your forehead.” You freeze before looking around wildly. There’s no one around, which can only mean that Jaehyun can still see you. Swallowing, you start the water again, rubbing at your forehead.

“And your left cheek.” You rub at the skin, being way too harsh but you excuse it considering your situation. “No, your other left. My left.”

“Jesus,” You growl in annoyance, reaching up to rip the towel down. Sure enough, there’s a splotch of green on your cheek. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be found. Maybe I am losing my mind.

You finish rinsing the mask off, finding some face lotion buried in Mark’s drawer, screaming bloody murder when Jaehyun appears in the mirror again. “Looking for me?”

“No! Leave me alone!” You cry, head spinning. Jaehyun fakes a pout, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Do demons even have hearts?

“Ouch, little bird. You don’t want to finish what we started the other night? When I had you moaning so pretty, so wet for me. I’m sure your pussy would take me so well, hmm?” Your heart rate kicks up again, but for a different reason this time. You almost moan, thinking about the dream.

Because he was right, you had been so wet. The want comes back full forces, slamming into you like a truck. You remember how needy you were, wanting to suck his cock so bad, wanting him to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. All fear that you previously had is slowly disappearing, fading into lust.

The demon smiles knowingly. “Ah, little bird, so you do remember. Remember how you promised me that you’re mine?”

You nod, eyes glazing over. You’re wet, panties starting to stick to your throbbing core uncomfortably.

“Mmmh, I bet you’re already dripping for me. Just waiting for me to come out and fill you up.”

Hearing your name leave his lips sends a wave of arousal crashing through you so strong that your knees buckle, grabbing onto the counter for support. He chuckles, but whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Mark.

“What were you say-” Your best friend trails off, eyes wide as he observes the scene. You snap out of your haze at the interruption. His mouth parts in shock. “You really weren’t kidding, shit.” He laughs humorlessly.

Then, quick as lightning, he rears back and punches the mirror. You scream in surprise at the crack, shards falling to the floor.

You and Mark both stare at the broken shards of glass on the ground, gleaming under the lights. “Mark,” You start, trailing off once you realize you have nothing to say. He seems to understand, walking forward until he’s close enough to pull you into a hug. You feel tears start to slide down your cheeks, dampening the cotton of your best friends shirt. You hug him closer, burying your face into his broad chest. He wraps himself around you, and you let yourself be lulled into the sense of security that his larger frame brings you. A sense of security that vanishes once you hear a low chuckle that definitely does not belong to Mark.

You both scream, leaping backwards and away from the noise. Jaehyun stands there, just in front of the door, with a shit eating grin on his face. You cower behind Mark, who is wrapping a protective arm around you while simultaneously trying to hide behind you.

“I really must thank you for finally setting me free. Normally I have to wait for some asshole with a ouija board, but then there’s just so many other demons that I have to compete with. So I just stick to the dream world-” He pauses to wink at you for emphasis “-but this is so much more fun.” His eyes are black, and you can’t tell where he’s looking. Swallowing, you clutch onto Mark’s arm for dear life.

The demon seems to regard the two of you for a moment, before his amusement seems to grow. He begins to move forward.

“Ah, Mark Lee. Lovely name for a stupid boy. Didn’t you know breaking a mirror is bad luck?” By this point, you and Mark are flattened against the wall, while Jaehyun stands less than a foot away from the two of you. There’s nowhere to run. This is it, you think, this is how I die.

Jaehyun chuckles, turning to you. You lower your gaze to the ground; it hurts to make eye contact with him. “No, little bird. This isn’t how you die, don’t worry.”

Then he’s backing away from the two of you, motioning to follow him. The logical part of your brain is screaming not to, but you find yourself drawn to him, legs carrying you after him without your consent, Mark clutching your arm tightly as he walks next to you.

Jaehyun seems to know the layout of the house, leading you straight into Mark’s bedroom. The demon grabs a chair from the desk and spins it around, straddling it so that he’s facing the bed.

He motions lazily. “Go on now, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

You find yourself sitting down on the edge of the bed, following his words like marching orders. Mark sits about half a foot away from you. Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, no, no. That won’t do. I said to get comfortable, did I not?” He raises an eyebrow as if daring you to argue with him. “Go lay down at the head board.”

You crawl to the head of the bed, settling so that you’re on your side, facing the demon. Mark follows suit, pulling you close to him so that you’re spooning. Jaehyun lets out a pleased hum. “Much better. Aren’t you much more comfortable now?” Nodding, you realize that you actually are more comfortable. It’s not just the change of position, but the energy in the room as well. The demon is no longer giving off a threatening aura. It’s more relaxed, maybe even happy? He certainly looks more relaxed, probably as happy as a demon can get, if not a little smug.

Your body is pulsing with energy, and it takes you a moment to place what you’re feeling. The earlier need to run that you had felt has been replaced with another need, albeit further down. Your thighs clench as another surge of heat pulses through your core, and your face warms at the realization. Why now, of all times, are you horny?

Jaehyun’s grin broadens as he seems to sense your dilemma. “Oh, little bird, if only you knew. Tell me, what type of demon do you think I am?” He watches you curiously, black eyes staring into your soul.

You try to tilt your head towards Mark, but the position’s too awkward and you only catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He looks a bit flushed from what you can see, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip, teeth that you could easily replace with your own- you blink, dazedly. What the fuck? Sexual thoughts about your best friend? That’s a new one. Even if you’ve noticed that he’s hot, you’d never thought about him sexually. Now, though, you can feel the hardness of his dick against your ass, and you can’t help but think about how good he could fuck you.

“Incubus,” You finally manage, blinking rapidly to clear the haze of your vision. Jaehyun grins, looking genuinely surprised that you’d gotten it right.

“Good girl. Make a little sense now?” You nod, fighting a moan as Mark starts to rock against you, slowly, as if he’s unconsciously doing it. Jaehyun notices.

“How about you, Mark? You doing alright over there?”

Your friend, your best friend, buries his face in your neck and groans, deep and delicious. It sends another surge of heat through your body, the growing need between your legs pulsing pathetically. “What are you doing to us?” The words are growled behind you, vibrating against the skin where his lips are pressed.

“Oh no, Mark, I’m not doing anything to you. The only thing I can do to you is make you realize your desires. Your deepest, darkest fantasies? I make that happen. Finally being able to fuck the girl you’ve been in love with for years? I make that happen.” The words take a minute to register with you, but you stiffen when the meaning hits you. Mark Lee, in love with you? An unlikely story, bordering impossible.

The demon chuckles at your inner turmoil, rolling his eyes at how dumb humans can be. “You too, y/n. You love Mark, even if you won’t admit it. You let the idea that he was too good for you scare you away from him. Do you not remember how often you thought of him, late at night after first meeting him?”

You groan in protest, not because it’s not true, but because you do remember. It had been so long ago. When you hadn’t known Mark, had only known of him. You pull away from Mark, awkwardly pushing him to lay flat against the pillows while you clamber on top of him.

“Mark, is it true? Do you love me?” You hold his face between your hands, staring into his eyes. He meets your gaze, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. He nods as best he can.

“So, so much.” Mark’s voice comes out raspy, matching his flushed skin. You lean down to kiss him, uncaring of the other presence in the room. Mark moans when your lips make contact, hands pulling you to straddle him. Your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his clothed cock against your center, rocking your hips to try to ease the throb of your core. His hands fly to your ass, pulling and kneading at the flesh as he urges you into a harsher pace.

The kiss is rougher, needier now, open mouthed and panting. Mark’s got his tongue tangled with yours, sucking in such a way that sends waves of heat through you. You want him in you, any part of him really.

Jaehyun seems to agree, speaking up from right next to you. You jump, having forgotten he was there although he’s the reason you’re like this in the first place.

“Let’s get the show on the road. As much as I’m enjoying this, I think we’d all enjoy something else a little more.” The demon reaches for the hem of your shirt and you nod, raising your arms above your head to let him pull the garment off. Mark groans at the newly revealed skin, hands going to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Fuck,” He whines, staring in awe at your chest. He doesn’t waste time before leaning up to kiss along your cleavage, pulling the bra down to expose your breasts. Another set of hands unclasp the bra before traveling down your torso to rub circles into your hip bones, sliding your sleeping shorts and panties off at the same time. Jaehyun throws the shorts somewhere off the bed. He keeps the panties, a pleased sigh leaving him as he appreciates the ruined fabric.

“Fuck, little bird. You’re really enjoying this,” He comments, as if he isn’t a fucking lust demon that can sense these kinds of things. You don’t voice your thoughts, because Mark chooses this moment to suck a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin so that all you can do is moan. “You’ve even ruined your panties. They’re soaked.”

He hands the strip of lace to Mark, who lets out a throaty groan at the sight. “You’re not getting these back.” He informs you, slipping the garment into his bedside drawer. You ignore him, instead tugging insistently at his shirt. He takes pity on you, grabbing the collar and yanking the baggy tee over his head.

You let your hands slide down his chest in admiration, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. You lick your lips at how broad his shoulders are, how strong he looks. Jaehyun doesn’t give you much time to enjoy the view, gliding two fingers along your slit before circling around your little nub. A cry of pleasure leaves you to mindlessly press your face into Mark’s collarbone, nipping and sucking the flesh until you’re sure you’ve left a bruise.

Jaehyun slips the two fingers into your aching core, curling and dragging them so well along your walls. Sparks of electricity flow through your veins, heat pooling in your center.

Mark groans from below you. Looking down, you see that you’ve unconsciously dug your nails into his hard chest in an effort to ground yourself. You remove your hands, only to spot little red half crescents littered over his skin. You rub your palms over the marks as if to soothe them, but it seems that the man wasn’t groaning from pain.

“Y/n” He sounds so fucked out, voice hoarse and raw even though hardly anything has happened yet. “You look so good like this, so perfect for me.” He brings one large hand up to cup your cheek, thumb delicately stroking over your cheekbone before moving down to trace your lower lip. You part your lips, letting him slide in before sucking around the digit, tongue curling around it as if it were his cock. His eyes darken a fraction, tongue coming out to wet his lips, swollen and kiss bitten.

You moan around the digit as Jaehyun adds a third finger, stretching your walls so pleasantly that you can’t help but buck your hips back for more. A whine forces its way out of your throat as the demon pulls his fingers out of you, leaving an empty ache between your thighs.

“Don’t you think it would be more fun if she was sucking on something a bit bigger than your finger, Mark?” The voice startles you, breath tickling your ear as he speaks. The man under you nods, swallowing thickly. Your eyes are drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement, and a gush of wetness pulses down below. Your thighs are probably covered in your arousal at this point.

You scoot down his body, trailing kisses and bites down his toned stomach. You take your time unzipping his pants, sucking a mark into the soft skin below his navel. He’s hard as a rock, and you moan in appreciation at the sheer size of him once you shimmy his jeans down his thighs.

“No underwear?” You ask, mouth curling up in a teasing smirk. He huffs out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can watch. “No, ‘s too restricting.”

You lazily pump his dick, thumb flicking over the tip once or twice. You plan to tease him more, but then Jaehyun’s pushing your head down and you have no choice but to open your mouth wide, innocent eyes peeking up at Mark as you take his cock in your mouth. He’s so big that you can’t take him in all the way, keeping one hand curled around his cock to stroke what your mouth can’t reach. You let it get sloppy, using your spit to ease the glide until you’ve got a pleasant rhythm going. Mark replaces Jaehyun’s hands with his own, gathering strands of your hair in his palms and using that grip to control your pace. “F-fuck,” He lets out a shaky exhale, letting his head fall back against the pillows once he’s satisfied with the pace.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, a loud smack sounding throughout the room. You moan, pitching forward onto Mark’s cock and gagging as he hits the back of your throat. A strangled cry leaves the man above you, his hips thrusting even further into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.

The demon kneads your stinging flesh before using his grip on you to pull your hips up. “Good girl,” You keen under his praises, sticking your ass up even higher. The warm, wet pressure against your center has you faltering, moaning almost violently around Mark’s cock. He doesn’t seem to be having any complaints, the vibrations forcing a moan of his own out.

Your eyes roll up into your head as Jaehyun wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You’re sure you’d be screaming by now if Mark’s cock wasn’t halfway down your throat. You’ve given up sucking him off by this point, content to let the man fuck your mouth while Jaehyun sucks your fucking soul out from between your legs. It feels so good, not used to being the center of even one man’s focus, let alone two.

Mark eases you off of his cock after you accidentally bite him, using your spit to ease the slide as he lazily fucks up into his loose fist. You rest your head on his thigh, alternating between moaning wantonly and mouthing messily against the skin as you feel your orgasm approach.

Jaehyun pulls away at the last second, and you whine loudly as your orgasm is cut off. The feeling of frustration leaves you close to tears, and you jiggle your ass in hopes that it will regain his attention. It does momentarily, as Jaehyun lands a harsh smack on the flesh, but he pulls away again.

“Mark,” The man in question looks up, hand freezing on his dick as if waiting for Jaehyun’s orders. And fuck, what a sight that would be: your normally brash and confident friend being so pliant and submissive to a near stranger… You blink out of it, feeling mildly ashamed even in your current state. Luckily, Jaehyun interrupts your thoughts. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you go first. You’ve been waiting long enough for this, anyway.”

Mark nods eagerly, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You paw at every inch of skin you can reach, searching for a release from the ache inside of you. Your wish is granted when he hooks two fingers in your soaking cunt, groaning at how wet you are. He scissors you open quickly, hissing at how tight you feel.

“Ready, angel? Want my cock?” The pet name has you moaning, though it draws a low chuckle from Jaehyun, who’s watching from his position next to Mark.

“Hurry up, already. Need you in me, ‘ve waited so long.”

Mark lights up at this, smile stretching his features. He looks so breathtaking in this moment, skin glowing and flushed, hair mussed up, eyes blown wide and half lidded.

“I’m yours,” He breathes, leaning up for one last kiss. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you forward so that you’re hovering above his thick cock. “Ride me baby.”

“I’d love to.” Reaching one hand down to position him at your entrance, you start to lower yourself down. Of course, Jaehyun chooses this exact moment to stop you. He truly is the spawn of Satan.

“Little bird, hold on just a second. I found something of interest in the back of Markie’s brain.” You cringe as he mocks your earlier nickname for the man. “What’s this I’m seeing, Mark? You like it up the ass?” His tone is teasing, but Mark groans in embarrassment. His face has gone an alarming shade of red by this point. “N-no,” He tries to deny, sputtering excuses but Jaehyun cuts him off with a press of a finger to his lips. “Oh, Mark, don’t get shy on me now. It’s a perfectly fine thing to like. Little bird, you’ll get your turn in a minute. You,” He snaps his fingers at Mark. “Come here. Kneel up, just like that. Perfect.” He appraises Mark’s ass for a moment, hands moulding the flesh before slipping a finger in. Mark’s eyebrows furrow, and you shoot up in alarm. “Doesn’t he need lube?”

Jaehyun looks at you, surprised that you care, before chuckling. “I can produce lube. Perks of being a lust demon.” Winking at you, he returns his focus to Mark. You can’t see what he’s doing, but the pure pleasure present on your best friends face has you clenching your thighs together, waves of need crashing through you. If you thought he looked good before, he looks absolutely gone now. Breathless groans are leaving him now, eyelids fighting to stay open as he sinks down on the others fingers. You watch him, mesmerized, before shuffling over to him.

“How close are you?”

He forces his gaze down to you. “Kind of- nngh- close, w-why?” 

Wrapping a hand around his base lightly, you start stroking. “Will you come if I blow you?”

He moans, a punched out sound that takes you by surprise. “Fuck, yes, I’ll definitely come if you blow me.” You pout in disappointment. Upon seeing your crestfallen expression, he continues. “Maybe we c-can- oh, yes- figure something out. Jaehyun,” He turns his head back behind him, struggling to get the words out between moans. “Can I eat y/n out?”

There’s just something so hot about Mark asking for permission from someone else that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. Jaehyun must nod, because then you’re being laid back, Mark settling between your thighs. He’s sucking sweet kisses into your core almost immediately, pulling your legs over his shoulders to give him better access. You’re letting out sharp cries of pleasure the whole time, eyes fighting the urge to roll back in your head in favor of watching Mark between your legs. A particularly well placed flick of his tongue has your hips rolling against his face, grasping the sheets in your hand as your mind blanks. The pleasure climbing through your system is insane, threatening to burn you from the inside out.

It only gets better once Mark starts moaning, his sinful mouth sending sweet vibrations traveling up your core. You manage to catch sight of Jaehyun behind him, kissing wetly along his shoulders and neck, features curving into a smirk once he notices you watching him.

“Little bird likes this, hmm? Like watching another man pleasure your boyfriend while he pleases you?” You hum, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze, unable to even think, letting his boyfriend comment slide. Whereas before it hurt to look directly into his eyes, you now find yourself getting lost in his dark orbs. It’s like a drug, your pleasure being amplified by the man, demon, whatever in front of you.

You finally break eye contact, head falling back against the mattress as Mark draws you closer and closer to your peak. Burying one hand in his hair, you use the leverage to grind your core against his face, chasing your sweet release. “C-close, Mark, please-” You don’t know what you’re begging for at this point. It’s too much but not enough at the same time. Jaehyun saves you from having to decide by cruelly ripping your orgasm away from you, again, dragging Mark’s face away from your pussy.

A few tears slip down your face at this point, frustration reaching its peak. Jaehyun wipes the tears away, laughing lowly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire soon.”

He must pull out of Mark, because your friend whimpers before seeming to realize what he just did and clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Mark, would you like to fuck our little bird now?” Mark nods, tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.

Jaehyun smirks. “Good. On your back. Y/n, ride him.” You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble onto your knees, wasting no time in straddling Mark before dropping yourself down on him. You both moan in satisfaction, you at finally being filled and Mark at your tightness. You have to brace both hands on his chest, almost collapsing at the overwhelming relief you feel. Beyond the burn of the stretch, his cock filling you up so nicely, there’s a sweet pleasure, a satisfaction.

You don’t wait very long to adjust, grinding your hips in smooth circles before lifting yourself off of him and dropping yourself back down. You quickly start a rhythm of you bouncing on his cock, eyes rolling at how fucking big he feels in you.

Mark’s hands are locked in a vice grip on your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh and using his grip to urge you into a faster pace.

Jaehyun decides to join, coming up behind you to kiss at your neck, one hand reaching up to your mouth. “Suck,” He commands, slipping two fingers past your willing lips. You do, hollowing your cheeks and slurping around the digits, wishing that it was his dick. He hums behind you, bringing the wet digits down to your entrance, finding your clit with ease and rubbing fast circles into the little nub. You moan even louder now, feeling yourself speed towards your climax. You’ve been on edge for too long, you can’t hold on anymore.

“You close, little bird? Going to come on Mark’s cock? Gonna make him fill you up, pound into that dirty cunt?” His words get to you, your head falling back against his shoulder once more.

“Yes, yes! Oh, please, please-” He cuts off your mindless rambling by pulling you in for a kiss, one that you melt into. This is the first time he’s kissed you, and you’re quite upset that you hadn’t kissed him earlier. It’s a hot kiss, lots of tongue and teeth. It heightens your pleasure immensely, and you can’t stop kissing him. You suck on his tongue filthily, and oh, he must like that if the resulting groan is anything to go by. Even when he goes to pull away, you won’t let him, one hand fisting in his hair to keep him close. He seems to be speeding up your release, if that were even possible. Your mind feels hazier now, every sensation heightened, core screaming for release. You feel your orgasm twisting painfully at your insides, pulsing before finally exploding. The intensity of it rips a scream out of your throat, nails scratching across Mark’s chest as Jaehyun licks even deeper into your mouth, drinking up the noises you make.

When you come down, Mark is still thrusting desperately up into you, though he stops at the demons command. “From behind,” You hear Jaehyun say, but everything’s hazy at this point. Your mind is still fuzzy from your orgasm, and it’s like watching through a screen. Like you’re high, though you hadn’t had anything the whole day.

Mark manhandles you into position, hands and knees with your ass raised high in the air. He leaves one gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before relentlessly pounding into you, cock hitting even deeper in this position. Jaehyun kneels in front of you, pulling your face in towards his cock. You moan around him as he slips inside, mouth not quite burning at the stretch like Mark, though the demon still has you gagging. His cock has the same effect on you as his kisses did, and you feel addicted. You’re slurping and sucking and moaning around him, not wanting the intense pleasure to stop. You barely hear the kissing above you, taking far too long to register that Jaehyun has pulled Mark into a messy kiss above you. The image has you moaning even more wantonly, ass pushing back against Mark.

The kiss seems to have a similar effect on the man, because then he’s slamming into you at an even more relentless rate, moans higher and more frequent before he’s coming with a shout, finally filling you up. Your core pulses again at the feeling, and you suck at Jaehyun’s dick with renewed vigor. His hands fist in your hair, keeping you still so that he can fuck your mouth as hard as he wants. You relish in the feeling of your throat being fucked raw, spit dripping out of your mouth and down his cock. He lets out a deep groan, hips slamming deep one last time as he finishes. His cum seems to ignite a fire within you, because you’re coming almost simultaneously with him, despite not even being touched.

You collapse afterwards, dragging yourself to Mark and letting him drape himself over you. You let yourself drift off to sleep, sated and still riding the high.

The demon kisses each of you one last time, drinking in the last remaining parts of your soul, watching as the two humans take their last breaths. “Thanks for the meal, lovelies.” He chuckles, petting your head almost affectionately before walking out into the night sky, not sparing a single glance back.

[scuttling]

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[grailfinders]

Fate & Phantasms TDoV special!

we're getting a little too close to 1000 followers for my liking, so it's time to celebrate the Transgender Day of Visibility! /j

sadly we don't have the time to create a whole new build for a famous historical transgender person, but we still have time to do a roundup of all the trans people already in fate, whether through their historical source or in fate itself. we're also including any servant who intentionally doesn't care about the gender binary in here, because its our list and we'll do as we'll please. we're also not including genderbends on being genderbent alone, or else we'd be here all day.

so, if you want to get a trans D&D party together for the Transgender Day of Vengeance, check out some of the options below!

Artoria Pendragon: we're including her not because she's a genderbend, but because she spent her entire life laboring under a gender role that slowly crushed her physically and mentally. Big mood, as the kids say.

Chevalier d'Eon: obviously putting modern labels of sexuality on historical figures is a fraught game at the best of times, but we can definitely say that the historical d'Eon was intersex, and chose to present as female towards the end of her life, so whatever she was it definitely wasn't cisgender.

Cú Chulainn: Cu isn't explicitly transgender in either his source nor in Fate, but it's not that hard to get a trans interpretation from the Ulster Cycle, what with its emphasis on how small and beardless Cu is, plus how he was immune to that curse Medb used to give all the men of Ulster birthing pains. plus this is our list so fuck it, we stan.

Sir Francis Drake: now admittedly this is our shakiest logic yet, but hear me out- her bio explicitly says that her crew sees calling her a woman as "rude" to her. there's a lot of ways to read into that, and this is one of them.

Jack the Ripper: ...can you reject the gender you were assigned at birth if you were never born? still, this one's just a numbers game- at least one of those abortions would've been assigned male, right? also, a screaming amalgam of the dead back for vengeance is great energy to bring to the party.

Mordred Pendragon: their gender? knight.

SHIKI, Shiki, and Shiki: being multiple people does wild things to gender. problematic fave tbf

Astolfo: Astolfo.

Hundred Personas: again, this one's a numbers game. ...do they still count as trans if they have their own bodies now? also, give them the male tag lasengle. you cowards.

Minamoto-no-Raikou: we're not including this one just because she's a genderbend, but because she's spent her whole life under the burden of a gender role she never wanted. also I've met plenty of tranfemmes who are just as obsessed about motherhood and want that exact kind of body.

Leonardo da Vinci: nonbinary queen, we stan

Enkidu: literally genderfluid, I can respect a good pun.

Prince Nezha: does not give a shit about their gender. good for them, best beep-boop.

Sieg: the yggdmillenia family didn't bother giving their mana batteries genders, so Sieg's canonically intersex! he's also a fucking great looper, if you got him you should level him.

Shi Huangdi: at some point the first emperor of china kind of forgot gender existed. god I wish that was me.

Kama: they can transform, Lasengle. you said so yourself. give them a male skin, you cowards

Sima Yi & Reines: ...I mean, I hear people call being trans like, "having a man's soul in a woman's body", and that's literally this.. does this count? I don't know, but the important thing is it's raising the question.

Maou Nobu: I've met them and they're trans, that's good enough proof for me.

Caeneus: ditto.

Van Gogh, Nemo, and Taira-no-Kagekiyo: I'm sorry for lumping these three together, but they're all right next to each other and they're all just "being multiple people does weird things to your gender" again.

Kiichi Hogen: see Kama.

[sailorblossoms-rankane]

I usually ignore replies disagreeing with me because I don't want to argue with others, it's exhausting. But I see how this might be a response to me failing to elaborate on what I mean, and that's on me.

"It's not that girl Ranma is particularly sexualized in the anime"

Do you see a difference between this

and say.... this

Do you not see a difference between setting up something like that just to stare at a cleavage and image a proposition, and something that's framed far more childishly and has an immediate follow-up such as this one to break any horny illusion?

Ranma over time becomes more comfortable with his girl half in general and in using his femininity to get what he wants.

We agree

And that's also in both the anime and the manga

Yeah... but is this not different?

(also the anime adds a lot of emphasis the manga doesn't have on Ranma wanting to cure himself to the point they change important parts in manga arcs, like in the goddamn soap episode. This same episode invents a scene where Ranma says he's ashamed of being seen as a girl, and reaffirms it by turning him back into a guy in scenes he had as a girl in the manga)

In point of fact female Ranma flirting with Ryoga in order to manipulate him is a constant throughout the story

We agree there, but framing and delivery make a difference. The way you present information is important.

There's humor and innocence in the delivery here

So no, I don't think this version of Ranma pretending to be in love is going further than washing Ryoga's naked back while he's saying this

When he touches Kuno in a similar situation, it's to kick his face (haven't seen the anime episode that adapts it, if it does btw). There's a difference between staring at someone with big cute eyes, leaning on them while keeping your hands to yourself, both fully clothed, and washing someone's naked back while praising their muscles. Ranma wouldn't do the latter. (In fact, I look at both of these examples right now and I notice how Ranma only uses a "big strong man" line to talk about himself)

This is the manga version

There's a different between washing his naked back, calling him a hunk and this too

Ranma is not meant to be some sort of invincible paragon of martial arts.

We agree. I read this part and went to re-read what I said in case I used an example that could be misunderstood as me powerscaling a manga that it's absolutely not for powerscaling (we agree on the rule of funny) but I mainly used his protectiveness (and there is logic to this) still, this one is on me cuz I didn't really elaborate, I'll give you that. Manga Ranma does need help, and this is a good thing, but when and how matters.

I watched the Shinnosuke OVA after I watched the movies (bad way to start watching that old adaptation btw) so it stood out to me that, while Ranma is not unbeatable, he's no average bitch either (part of what makes him different is that he can't stand losing, that's what I mean by "manga ranma wouldn't let losing against a child stand." If he loses pathetically, prepare to see him behaving pathetically to chase that win) There is logic in "if Ranma is behaving like a pathetic loser for a win, there will be no real reward" but that's still not what I meant by "he's needing help where in the manga he doesn't need it"... in the Herb arc, Ryoga helps him recover the kettle to become a man again (he's kind of redeeming himself here, given both Mousse and him "betrayed" Ranma earlier and Ranma behaved like the better person anyway) but the anime has patterns, so if girl Ranma is screaming for Ryoga, I'm comfortable assuming some damsel shit is going on... because the anime liked doing that.

I also mean unimportant shit (but annoying when it builds up) like when he needs Akane and Mousse's help to kick him to get impulse in the Shampoo's cursed kiss episode (also cursed episode) while in the manga, he just can do that jump all by himself, because, again: he's no average martial artist. This isn't really a "power of friendship and teamwork" type of story, it tends to makes fun of that stuff with the cast of questionable clowns. It makes it stand out that Akane and Ranma do work as a team (it is ultimately her help what results in Ranma defeating pantyhose the first arc he shows up) (there's also logic in: if the manga needs Akane to help Ranma, she will get it done no matter what, but if it wants a rescue, she will be limited... and while Ranma is helpful to everyone, his romantic rescues are reserved only for Akane, which is why he's never much help when Ukyo or Shampoo are in the damsel role. Akane and Konatsu do more to rescue Ukyo when Konatsu's family kidnaps her. When both Ukyo and Akane are chained on that tree, good ol' Ranma doesn't even see Ukyo, he's only seeing Akane. In the arc with the Chinese twins, Ranma tries to save Shampoo – when she's pretending to be a damsel as a romantic move... notice how, when she's unconscious, the twins beat the shit out of her and nobody helps her, she protects herself when she starts fighting even unconscious – then Akane has to help Ranma, and he ends up with his legs broken for his troubles, which is the type of thing telling you Shampoo only ever creates problems for him, and Akane always has his back. This is intentional)

One of the movies has more annoying example

This might not be the series for powerscaling girlies, but there are still rules. Anything goes in comedy, but Ranmas still tends to be the bar for his peers (among the regular cast at least). It's Ryoga who's trying to catch up to him. Guys tend to be far stronger than the girls (strong female fighters tend to be tied to sexual harassment, see the constant boob jokes with Hinako, or how both Ukyo and Shampoo are attrociously clowned on by male fighters... it is what it is) nothing summarizes it more than when Herb turns into a guy and he's immediately ridiculously stronger. Ranma's girl form allows him to take on challenges and does things he wouldn't be able to as a guy, it can be a strenght, but it's also a handicap against strong male opponents in more "traditional" fights. One could say "he has shorter limbs, less strength etc it makes sense" and sure... I'm gonna move on.

Shampoo will give Ranma trouble when the plot or the humor demands it (it will tie Ranma's hands and feet if necessary) but she's not a match for him in a more traditional fight. If Ranma has a serious fight against an opponent that's about to kill him, Shampoo has nothing to do here. Yet she shows up to heal Ranma earlier in the movie, and then she shows up to save him. You can't even argue this is good in the sense that "they're making a female character less of a damsel" cuz you don't even see the damn fight (Shampoo is never a damsel anyway, even when caged or brainwashed she's still pursuing her interests) you're only shown her "heroic rescue." And I find that... suspicious. "But that's the movie, the show is different"... is it? the show where I keep finding our friendly neighborhood catgirl, a character who doesn't exist in the manga?

Fighting in Ranma isn't something I'm super invested in debating (what the anime does stands out to me precisely because I'm not super interested in this and I'm, still noticing... why is Ranma struggling while literally everybody else isn't, for example) so we're gonna have to agree to disagree. Also, if you're someone who's invested in the anime and think it does a good job adaptating the manga (whenever they try to) we're definitely not going to agree.

I find myself cringing (like foaming in the mouth and full-body twitching) when female Ranma asked screamed for Ryoga to help him. LIKE URGH—Ranma will absolutely do a somersault and a backflip going to the volcano's pit instead of asking Ryoga's help! Man, the old version is so goddamn weird.

the old anime is indeed weird as fuck.

I haven't seen what you mention, but in general: anime Ranma is generally just a fraud. He constantly has to be saved or helped in situations he would neveeerrr need any help. They often make him look like a common clown. There's a filler where he has a fight with a child and he LOSES (and this is somehow no big deal for him. Manga Ranma would never let this shit stand) whenever I watch anime original content (don't get me started on the movies)... i have yet to see anything that truly underscores that bro is built different. They even change manga content to make him look more useless like

it's even worse with girl Ranma because girl, which means male fantasies. Part of this is this thing where they give girl Ranma weirdly sexualized lines or behavior to sell her as "available" for a male audience, sometimes they use Ryoga to deliver them ("she says it to him" but it's actually for you) (there's this WEIRD scene in the soap arc where the anime has Ranma washing Ryoga's back while calling him a hunk the ladies die for, which is part of the fantasy for the audience... in the manga, Ranma simply knocks him out with a blow and runs. He would kill himself before saying or doing some of the shit they have him doing in that show) I don't eve going to take screenshots of the tweets where I show examples, I might start foaming myself. So let's focus on the next fantasy: the damsel.

Girls' gotta be fragile, so they do this in the pantyhose episodes: instead of Ranma protective Akane with his body and looking fierce, they do a "scared girl" closeup

they also omit Ranma making it clear he's angry cuz Akane almost got hurt btw, so you might think part of his anger was bro (feminine) just being afraid of the big bad boulder

speaking of damsels

however, because this is indeed a very strange show, in the shinnosuke ova they do the opposite (an ova where they remove practically all of Ranma's vulnerability and the depth of his feelings for Akane... they have bro SNORING when they reveal Akane is MISSING and no, I'm not making it up or exaggerating, but anyway...)

in moments where girl Ranma is meant to look vulnerable, they show her like an action hero

(why the fuck is Ranma saying this to Akane after saving her is beyond me. makes it seem like Ranma can't help but put her down, even when it's dead serious, which he also does in the movies)

bro is meant to be heartbroken </3 (they also ommit all the instances of boy Ranma looking like he lost his will to live, god forbid that motherfucker shows how bad he has it for her)