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bansheeoftheforest · 3 years ago

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TGS AU Masterlist

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As I’m pretty much retiring from the fandom at the moment, I’m “spring cleaning” my blog to make it neater and more accessible��to things outside of that fandom. So, here will all my The Glass Scientists aus be! Every single one! This is a lot!!

My au content can be found under the general tag #Banshees Au or under #[Insert AU name] AU (for example, #Ghost Au).

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Irrbloss Au

My first AU! Jekyll and Zosi decides to leave the Society after the Exhibition is through as Jekyll doesn’t feel welcome anymore. He lies and says he is going on an expedition to Scotland to gather alchemical ingredients but is, in reality, planning to disappear and never return. Jekyll and Zosi travel through the woods of Scotland and accidentally enter into an alternate reality after entering a fairy gate, leaving them helplessly lost in the woods of ancient nightmares.

[Irrbloss Au masterpost / Concept Art] Fake Kidnapping AU

Jekyll feels trapped and helpless as they are forced to postpone the Exhibition since the Lodgers refuse to participate. His mental health crumbles and Hyde takes advantage of him, planting the idea of faking his own kidnapping to get away from everything. Due to his weak mental state, Jekyll does not push the idea away, and goes through with the plan while struggling with his concept of identity and morals. Note: This one has actually gotten a fanfic with the prologue linked right here!

[Original post / Character concept art / Art for Chap.2 / Prologue]

☆Amnesia Kidnapping Au

Another one that was first brought up/made by Percy! Playing off of my fake kidnapping au, Henry actually gets kidnapped. Injured and disoriented, he manages to flee from his kidnappers and is found wandering the streets by a man named Mr. O’Leary, who immediately takes him in and helps him. Having gotten amnesia due to the injuries, Henry doesn’t know who he is or where he is from, not even remembering where he was running away from, so Mr. O’Leary gives him the name Thomas and takes care of him in hopes of being able to find his origin and home. The more time the passes, however, Mr. O’Leary realizes that there is more to Thomas than meets the eye, and that Thomas gets plagued by horrible hallucinations and nightmares. Thinking Thomas is an escaped asylum patient, Mr. O’Leary does everything he can to protect him.

Branches for this au includes; Transfem!Jekyll getting to live out her best life thanks to Mr. O’Leary, Young!Jekyll crossover where Henry accidentally turns into a kid prior to his kidnapping, Henry fleeing from Mr. O’Leary’s home after an outburst to either be found by the Lodgers or die in an alleyway due to the cold-- a segue into the Ghost!Jekyll au, a crossover with the Moreau’s Revenge au where Moreau was the one to kidnap Henry.

[Original post / Mini Fic]

☆ Ghost Au

Jekyll gets killed and his body is dumped in a tucked-away alleyway sometime before the Exhibition starts but gets stuck in limbo as a ghost due to his painful death, his unfinished business with the Exhibition, and the HJ7. He quickly realizes that the Lodgers don’t care that he is missing as his body is left to rot, and therefore decides to take revenge on the Lodgers for everything they have done to him by being the biggest asshole he possibly could be.

Branches for this au includes; Jekyll having amnesia from his painful death, him and Hyde splitting and becoming separate ghosts, Jekyll accidentally dying outside in the cold London winter without being found until spring, him hiding his ghost state by only attending masquerades and haunting his old friends/love interests, Henry not realizing that he is dead at all, Henry realizing that he is dead but not giving a shit because he has work to do, Henry possessing his body/corpse/skeleton and going on about his day, Henry accidentally creating a ghost mafia because weaker spirits cling to him, crossover with the Family au, Henry dying as a kid and being adopted by Maijabi, Henry dying as a kid and haunting the Society and befriending Lanyon’s young nephew.

[Original post / Discussion post / Young!Jekyll Branch / Mini Fic / Ramble post / DTIYS 1/ DTIYS 2]

Young!Jekyll Au

Idea was brought up by my beloved anon Percy/ @/perception-of-deception, an au where a failed lab experiment accidentally turns Henry back into his pre- or teen age, to which the Lodgers have to figure out how to take care of a child in combination of hiding him from his friends and trying to reverse the age regression.

Branches for this au includes; Hyde convincing Young!Jekyll to take the HJ7 and accidentally turning Hyde into a kid too, Trans!Jekyll turning into the age of pre-transition, Jekyll remaining in the same age but losing all of his memories and only keeping those from his childhood, general amnesia branch where he loses his memories regardless, and crossovers between the Feral, Mafia, Amnesia Kidnapping (+Poison), Family, and Catshifter aus.

[Original post]

☆Syndicate Crossover Au

Technically my own idea for once! The Frye Twins come to London in 1885 instead of 1863 (but keep their canonical ages, so the timelines match up) and start their work to liberate London from the Templars. Meanwhile, they soon find themselves in an unlikely alliance with one Dr. Henry Jekyll.

Branches for this au includes; the Frye twins needing help to develop specific potions so they recruit Henry on the promise that they will pay him well and make sure he won’t get tracked down, Henry being forced to work for the Templars but happily joining the rooks after his brothers (Kent and Raphael Jekyll-- actual NPCs and enemies in the game) are killed by the Twins, Hyde joining the rooks and the Twins eventually meeting Henry, Henry being kidnapped and saved by assassins as a child and eagerly wanting to join the organisation / the rooks later on in life, Henry having a drunken one-night-stand with Jacob and joining the Assassin’s after waking up in the train, crossovers with the Gang and Mafia aus where Henry meet the twins during gang fights, general crossovers with the Catshifter and Feral au.

[Original post / First discussion / Ramble post / Templar!Henry]

☆ Gang Au

Au idea originally brought up by Thejeksburyguy! Henry ends up accidentally creating a gang of street ruffians and criminals after subconsciously helping so many people on the street. The people he helps start idolizing him and crowns him their gang leader. Henry has no idea what’s happening until his rivals suddenly start dropping dead and the same people ends up on his doorstep in need of patching up. Once he realizes what’s going on, he fully embraces the role as gang leader, gets a mask, and starts going to town on his rivals together with his gang.

Branches for this au includes: Henry teaming up with Lucy to do heists and robberies, Transfem!Jekyll joining Lucy’s gang, Transmasc!Jekyll having been in the Scotland Division for the Forty Elephants as a kid and therefore knows how to handle a gang.

[Original post / Transfem!Jekyll / Transmasc!Jekyll]

☆ Catshifter Au

Jekyll is a catshifter; a mythological and supernatural creature who can turn into cats at will. As the Lodgers immediately adopt the “stray” cats that roams around the Society, Henry’s attempts to hide his catty nature only gets harder and harder. When the Lodgers adopt the cream colored moggy cat that steals their food and causes ruckus at every turn, Henry can’t say that it comes as a surprise when his friends name the highlander “Jekyll Jr.” and the moggy “Hyde Jr.”, especially so as the Lodgers desperately try to keep both cats hidden from their founder.

Branches for this au includes; Jekyll/Hyde having wobbly cat syndrome and Henry needing a cane in human form, Griffin being a catshifter as well (often used in the Jekffin route), Henry marrying Emma and the two of them having a whole litter of babies, Henry’s entire family being catshifters, a crossover with the Mafia au (called and tagged as Meowfia au) where Henry was a part of a catshifter Mafia back in Glasgow.

[Original post / Wobbly Cat Syndrome / Griffin Catshifter / Jemma]

Mafia au

Henry is raised into a mafia clan from birth, where his entire family is part of a Scottish mafia. Agile, strong, quick, and incredibly resiliant, Henry has a lot of scars and weapons on his person that he hides. After a last heist, he decides he wants to go to London and get a doctorate, therefore leaving his criminal past... Somewhat... Behind.

Branches for this au includes; Henry teaming up with Queen Lucy and later joining her polycule (tagged as Four-tea ele-gents or Lucy x Henry x Patrin x Elise), crossover with the Catshifter au (called and tagged as Meowfia au) where Henry’s gang is a clan of catshifters, a general crossover with the Family au as his entire family is in the mafia, a crossover with the Young!Jekyll au where Henry wakes up thinking he got caught by a rivaling mafia, a general crossover with the Syndicate, Poison, Gang au where a lot of plotpoint overlaps.

[Original post] Selkie Au

Jekyll is a selkie who some how ends up in an actual healthy and consensual relationship with his love interest. Also Hyde has no idea of how to keep track of their coat.

Branches for this au includes; Henry’s love interest working at or near a lighthouse-- creating a Selkie x Lighthouse keeper trope, Robert coming from a family of seafarers and getting the lighthouse post to avoid them, Brokenshire accidentally ripping off Hyde’s furcoat when in a chase only for Dr. Henry Jekyll to end up on his doorstep begging for it back a few days later, Emma and Henry getting married off and Emma suddenly finding a seal in the house, Griffin accidentally walking in on Henry changing from seal to human and swearing to secrecy on the promise that he tells him cool ocean facts so he can piss off Helsby.

[Original post / Jekshire / Jemma / Jekffin] Feral Au

The HJ7 messes with Henry’s primal instincts, ergo making him turn feral when he is especially stressed or get those classic urges, such as biting on a pencil when trying to do paperwork. Henry becomes the local Cryptid of the Society, and what with his poofy hair, claws, dilated cat eyes, and the way he seemingly can’t walk on two legs or opens doors when feral, the Lodgers quickly take a liking to his cat like, feral state.

Branches for this au includes; Henry acting and looking catlike, Henry acting and looking rabbitlike, a crossover with the Moreau’s Revenge Au in which Henry turns feral in a specific consequence from the happenings of that au, Henry never having turned feral because of an experiment-- He Is Just Like That.

[Original post / Feral-unferal post]

Moreau’s Revenge Au

Moreau escapes Bethlam and kidnaps Henry in revenge. While in his custody, Henry is forced to withstand incredible physical and psychological torture, as well as being used as a labrat by the madman until he is found and rescued.

Branches for this au Includes; Henry having incredible trauma after his kidnapping without the Lodgers realizing until Hyde physically forces them to help Henry, Henry becoming feral as a result from experiments or general abuse, Henry having amnesia and Stockholm Syndrome for Moreau-- thinking that Moreau only tried to help him and that the Lodgers are the bad ones, Moreau using Henry as a live experiment for trying to figure out Frankenstein’s secrets to Creature-- therefore leaving Henry with a myriad of scars.

[Original post / Ramble post]

Crushing Au

Literally every character in TGS has a crush on Jekyll. Every Lodger, main character, side character, background character, villains, etc. Literally everyone. Henry is incredibly oblivious and does not realize that everyone is fighting for his courtship.

Branches for this au includes; Henry being aro/ace and therefore not ending up in a relationship with anyone, the Lodgers tricking Henry into some sort of The Bachelor game so they can try to win his affection, Henry ending up with multiple partners, the Lodgers never “abandoning” Henry for Frankenstein because they all have a crush on him, Henry ending up being together with everyone.

[Original post]

☆Poison Au

Knowing that the HJ7 will be highly toxic, Henry microdozes on poison to build up his immunity, either by taking small dozes of general poisons in a wide rage of deadliness or by the earlier experiments becoming more and more poisonous the further the experiments went, resulting to him being immune to most poisons by the time he regularly uses the HJ7. However, due to his immunity to drugs and poisons, caffeine and alcohol no longer has an affect on him. To combat this, Henry starts finding and developing poisons that can give him drunk and give him energy boosts, going to the point where Henry basically only drinks poison.

Branches for this au includes; Henry befriending Jasper’s extremely venomous creatures whose venom merely is a sleeping drug for him, someone trying to poison Henry during a banquet but Henry being immune, crossover with the Catshifter au where the Lodgers constantly fret about him eating poisonous things, crossover with the Mafia au where he is immune to poison because of Mafia training, the Lodgers constantly trying to steal his food and accidentally poisoning themselves.

[Original Post / Creature ask]

Utterly Sick Au

Utterson exists! Having been out of the country for many years, Utterson suddenly returns to London and wants to spend a lot of time with his old friends, Henry and Robert. Unaware of the true intent of his visit, Hyde is soon the one to realize that Gabriel did not come back simply because he missed his friends. Knowing that he was plagued by a deadly disease and only had a few more months to live, Gabriel travelled back to London to spend his last months with his best friends. Once Henry and Robert realize what’s going on, they scram to find a cure to save their best friend.

Branches for this au includes; Enfield having died a bit before Utterson’s own health deteriorates and Gabriel blaming himself for it-- hallucinating Enfield’s death over and over again when his health gets as worse, a crossover with the Crushing au where the Lodgers all decide to try to help Henry cure Utterson in hopes of him falling for them. Everything containing Utterson will be tagged with this au.

[Original post / Enfield’s death / Crushing Au / Fanart comic (P. 1)]

Family au

Henry has a big and loving family whom he keeps strong contact with, even after fifteen years in London. Once his family comes on a surprise visit, the Lodgers learn a few new things about Henry; he is Scottish, and his family have a strong hatred for anything and everything English. Mainly used as an excuse to have Henry speaking in Gaelic and his Scottish dialect, this au goes hand in hand with the typical family fluff expected from these aus. Note that this au has nothing to do with my first set of OCs.

Current family member includes: Henry’s parents, although gender and characters changes a lot. Henry’s siblings: Lilith & Blair, 45 years old (twin sisters) Freyja, 44 years old. Ian & Angus, 43 years old (twin brothers) Isla, 42 years old. Peigi, 41 years old.

Branches for this au includes; One of Henry’s parents being Ernest Frankenstein, crossovers the Mafia au, Meowfia au, Catshifter au, Utterly Sick au, Resurrection au, and Ghost au.

[Original post / Ernest post / Fanart of Henry’s parents]

Hallucination au

A dangerous gasleak or experiment gone wrong leaves the entire Society wildly hallucinating the same army of nightmares that Henry deals with. As Henry is the only one that can act normal, the Lodgers don’t realize that he, too, can see hallucinations.

Branches for this au includes; Henry and the Lodgers being able to see the same hallucinations-- therefore making the Lodgers able to see Hyde when Henry is in control and vice versa, Henry only realizing that the others have hallucinations by the time one of his friends break down.

[Original post]

☆ We’ll Meet Again au

Henry suffers a head injury after an accident, leaving him with amnesia and short term memory loss. Unable to remember things for longer than a moment, the Lodgers starts fearing for the worst regarding their leader, however, they quickly notice that nothing seem to be able to beat Henry’s mood. Unable to remember all the bad things that have happened to him, Henry turns into an overly optimistic and happy guy who gets incredibly excited to know that he has so many talented friends!

[Original post / Eddies Memes 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5]

☆ Summoner au

Henry has a deal with an eldritch horror which grants him powers beyond mortal imagination. He uses these powers and connections to set up the Society without having to worry about money or opponents, and if he just so happens to get a cult mafia that worships him like a god, that’s just a bonus. This au is based on the music video to Cirque by Sub Urban.

Branches for this au includes; Henry and his patron having somewhat of a sugar-daddy kind of relationship, Henry’s patron basically adopting Henry and makes him his heir (the Dadritch branch), Henry being a full eldritch god in disguise, crossover with the Feral Au where Henry’s eldritch powers makes him have an incredibly big appetite-- and not soothing it makes him go hungry-feral, the Lodgers finding out that Henry has eldritch connections but thinking that he is possessed-- leading to them exorcising him and cutting him off of his patron and his influence, Baby Henry having been sacrificed to Dadritch by cultists which made him get adopted by him (leaving his actual body behind in a coma while Dadritch makes a new vessel for Henry’s spirit, continuing to the branch where the Lodgers cut Henry off from Dadritch which miraculously makes him wake up in his old body back in Scotland, thinking the last 30 years was just a dream), Henry’s mother being a consort/high priestess of Dadritch.

[Original post / Concept Art]

Huldra au

Henry is a swedish Huldra! A huldra (or Skogsrå) is a mythological creature similar to fae or land sirens. They are mostly seductresses with beautiful appearance, strange knowledge about the forest, the ability to grant luck or misfortune to those who cross them, but their true nature is also given away by a hollow back, a tail, and cloven feet. For this au, Henry is either A) a male huldra which is very rare, or B) FtM, regardless of whether it is he is the son born out of a huldra and her human lover, most of this au involves Henry still living in the human world and starting the Society.

[Original post]

Plant!Jekyll au

Henry is actually some sort of bewitched plant all along! Based on all of my incorrect quotes/chatposts where Henry longs to be a plant, Henry is just a gangle of plants under a spell to make him look HumanTM, granting him with the lack of need for food and sleep. Now, if Jasper’s critters just so happen to make a nest in the hollow bark of his stomach, that’s not his problem.

Branches for this au includes; Crossover with Summoner Au where Henry is an eldritch horror and ergo half plant, Henry accidentally making himself into half-plant due to an experiment.

[Original post]

Witch au

Henry is the reincarnation of a (female) witch burnt at the stake a few hundred years prior, and with the full memory of his previous life, Henry brings his past life into his new one by practicing witchcraft. This includes casting protection spells on the Lodgers to keep them from getting hurt, collecting herbs to help with his alchemy, taking Zosi on broom trips around the city, having dances with the devil together with his Witch Coven, adopting Creature as his witch apprentice, and just being a general Enby Legend.

[Original post]

☆ Werewolf au

Morcant ends up biting and infecting Henry with Lycanthropy during his two week vacation to her forest. As romantically connected werewolves -together with the spread of the Lycan virus- they are spiritually connected, and ergo continue their relationship for a lot longer than in canon. As Henry’s body struggle with being infected by the ancient type of lycanthropy, he becomes chronically ill and hides his condition to those around him for years, the HJ7 being an early experiment of wolfsbane potion.

Branches for this au includes; Henry and Morcant staying in a relationship in secret all the way up to the current timeline of TGS and them getting a kid together, Henry and Morcant being forced to split up (making Henry shippable with other characters), Henry getting so ill he almost dies and has to live with Morcant in the ancient forest.

[Original post]

☆ Murder ‘’Mystery’’ au

[TW Gore, animal abuse, murder]

The Society gets snowed in during a harsh winter and, unable to leave the building, they start to get on each other’s nerves. Henry-- already having a hard time to deal with them while having the option to leave the building-- can’t take it anymore. He takes out his frustration on small critters he find around the Society, leaving the Lodgers to find the bodies in the morning, thinking that an animal is running havoc... Up until an unfortunate Lodger crosses Henry’s path one night, and meet their unfortunate end. The Lodgers are trapped with a murderer, unable to trust anyone.

Branches for this au includes; The Lodgers quickly realizing that Henry is the murderer but still being outsmarted by him, no one knowing that Henry is the murderer and turning on each other (murdering each other), Henry faking his death to make it seem like he was “innocent”, the clean route where Henry hides the bodies and breaks them down into wine or acids which makes it seem like the Lodgers just “disappeared”, Henry being murdered by the last living Lodger, a Lodger becoming a copy-cat killer or helping Henry with his murders (ship route).

[Original post]

Demon au

[TW heavily religious themes, gore, horror]

Henry gets possessed by a demon as a child and gets exorcised by a priest. The demon didn’t get destroyed and now follows him through his whole life, causing Henry to collect a lot of holy relics and having crosses around him to stay safe. One the stress with the Society and Hyde causes him to hallucinate, the demon begins to fight for possession again, worsening Henry’s paranoia to the point where the Lodgers start noticing that he is acting... Weird.

Branches for this au includes;Henry going insane because of the demon which leads into the murder mystery au, the demon killing Henry which leads into the ghost au, Henry’s parents abandoning him once he gets possessed which makes him adopted by Dadritch in the summoner au, Henry being open about being possessed by a demon but Frankenstein misunderstands and thinks he made his own Creature

[Original Post]

Everyone knows au

Everyone knows that Henry and Hyde are the same person, and instead hold bets on how and when Henry will confess it to them, leading to them being increasingly frustrated when Henry tippy-toes on revealing the truth only to pull back.

[Original post]

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Retired AUs

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Time Loop Au

After the Exhibition is a failure, Henry wakes up on the day when he met Jasper. Realizing he just travelled back in time by having all happenings matching up to his “dream”, Henry does everything in his power to not meet Frankenstein, to set everything right, and to make sure the Lodgers don’t think he is a psychic.

Branches for this au includes; Henry managing to fix everything from the beginning and make everything right, Henry failing over and over and having to relive the time loop until he manages to fix everything and having constant paranoia, some Lodgers also being stuck in the time loop but neither them nor Henry knowing about the others.

[Original post]

Pirate au

Henry’s family were a bunch of pirates and Henry grew up on ships since he was a baby, but similarly to the Mafia au, grows up and decides that he, for some reason, wants a doctorate and starts the Society.

Branches for this au includes; Henry being the lovechild of a siren and a pirate (or just a sailor, i.e Ernest).

[Original post]

Resurrection Au

Yet another Bancy au! Helsby accidentally murders Henry during an argument and in panic, he and the rest of the Lodgers beg Frankenstein to revive him in hopes of reversing and being able to forget about the whole thing. Henry is not happy to be robbed of a peaceful death, and therefore is just as much of an asshole as he is in the ghost au.

Branches for this au includes; Henry not realizing that he is dead and merely thinks he got a nasty hit to the head, the revival messing with their soul so Hyde becomes more of a ghost rather than share the body with Jekyll, a crossover with the Family au where Henry’s family come on a visit only to find Henry practically a zombie.

[Original post]

An Ernest Resurrection au

A crossover between the Family Au (specifically with the branch of Ernest being Henry’s parent) and the Resurrection au. Ernest hears that Frankenstein is at the Society and rushes to London to make sure to keep their son safe, only to find Henry acting... Weird and off, soon they learns that Henry died and Frankenstein had the audacity to revive him. Trauma all around.

[Original post]

Modern Time loop au

My attempt at Modern au! Everything is the same except set in the modern times, whereas the Dr. Henry Jekyll from the original novella is Modern!Henry’s great great something grandfather. Obsessed with science, Henry unknowingly follows in his predecessor's footsteps while simultaneously trying to understand what happened to him. Henry goes to university, meets Lanyon, starts the Society, and everything goes exactly like it goes in the main comic, except Henry never creates Hyde but got the HJ7 gene past down from his predecessor.

Branches for this au includes; Frankenstein being the original Frankenstein but revived by the Creature, Frankenstein being a descendant of the original Frankenstein (or Ernest specifically) and tries to create their own creature-- either managing or getting put in their place by the original creature before they manage.

[Original post]

Time Traveller au

A timetraveller travels back in time to solve the Dr. Henry Jekyll mystery, as the doctor disappeared not long after the Exhibition with only the body of Edward Hyde being found in his office (/the events of the actual book). Once the Lodgers realize their new scientist friend’s real mission, they do everything in their power to make sure that Henry won’t disappear.

Branches for this au includes; The time traveller being the Time Traveller by H. G Wells.

[Original post]

Fox and Hound au

Originally conjured up by a dream I had, Henry is a fox and Robert is a purebred hunting hound. Newly orphaned, Mr. and Mrs. Lanyon-- Robert’s owners-- take in the baby fox they found on their doorstep, and Robert decides to take his new friend under his metaphorical wing. However, as Henry struggles to remain the perfectly tame pet that the Lanyons and Robert expects him to be, repeat encounters with Hyde the fox and Morcant the wolf makes Henry struggle between what he is and what people want him to be.

[Original post / Idea post]

Unsolved au:

Shane and Ryan somehow ends up in the TGS universe.

Branches for this au includes; Shane and Ryan being the time travellers solving unsolved mysterious and ergo tries to solve Henry’s, Shane and Ryan investigating the Society in the Ghost Jekyll au-- either in 1885 or in modern times.

[Time Traveller Au]

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#banshees au #banshees info #au masterlist #tgs #the glass scientists #tgs au #the glass scientists au

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youryanderedaddy · 4 years ago

Text

Love Fuel

Summary: You were Jason’s first love before you broke his heart and rejected him. It’s all your fault that he can’t move on.

Tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, incel behavior, nice guy behavior, self - hatred, threats of non-con, implied non - con, implied masturbation, bullying based on appearance (not reader), deregatory language, kidnapping, misogyny, generalizations, stalking

this is a hot mess but its 1 am and i am tired, ik that incels are bad irl (obviously), but this is fiction and I kinda wanted to explore the dynamic and shit.

Everyone used to call him JJ or The-Big-Jay back in high school. Well, most of the time his classmates weren’t really calling out to him or even talking to him, the names were whispered behind his back, after he had just passed the hallway, or on bad days - right to his face. The jocks, these dumb motherfuckers, would beat him up, mock him for whatever stupid reasons they had chosen to use as an excuse to torment the smaller and weaker. The popular girls would giggle like brainless bimbos as Kyle or Brad or any other football player stole his glasses or continuously punched him in the guts until he threw up all over the floor. Even the nerds, the kids at the bottom of the school hierarchy, messed with Jason from time to time when they wanted to feel the oh - so desired rush of power they so rarely managed to experience.

Looking back, Jason could see why his classmates hated him so much - he was everything that society deemed as wrong and unattractive. He was thin, pale, “scrawny” as the others called him, on the shorter side, and on top of that the teen was terribly shy and introverted, never having the guts to stand up to his bullies or even tell someone about the abuse. The male spent most of his free time at home, playing hours upon hours of video games, watching anime and reading books he was simply too young to understand or look critically at. As he grew older, the man began to view the world as it trully was - a dark, miserable place that ate up sore losers like him. Men were primitive and foolish, which somehow managed to soften their faults. Women, on the other hand, were calculative and manipulative, greedy and sinful. His whole life they had done nothing but reject him when he needed love and support the most. Of course, there were many other reason why the brunette detested the weaker sex. In his eyes women were evil two - faced sluts, showing off their bodies yet acting innocent and hurt once someone finally decided to use them for the only thing they were actually good for.

But you Jason hated the most. You reminded him that no matter how much he hated the outside world, he would always hate himself the most. He had to admit you were pretty, painfully so, with a perfect little body to match your looks and a sweet sugary smile that almost deceived him years ago. As much as the man regretted his weakness, he had fallen right into your trap at the time.

You weren’t the most popular girl, but you had your fair share of friends, all nice and loyal like puppies. You weren’t the smartest either, but unlike the other stupid giggling sluts you always tried to do your best. You were beautiful just like them but you were actually kind to the pathetic bullied kid no one else bothered to acknowledge even existed outside of being a punching bag. You always asked him whether he was alright and often took him to the infirmary when he looked paler and sicker than usual. You talked to him as if he was a normal human being and despite the initial doubt, Jason appreciated it.

It was the last day of your senior year when the teen finally gained the courage to confess. He was shaking the whole time and by the end of his little speech there were small tears in the corner of his eye. You were the first girl the male cared about, the first one to show him kindness, to offer him friendship without asking for something in return. You were the only one who could make him feel deserving of love, worthy of affection. And then you took it all away in a matter of seconds.

“I am sorry, bud.” You had said that day after giving him a half - hearted hug and an apologetic smile, that started to seem more and more like a mocking grin the longer the teen started at you. “I already have a boyfriend, but I am really flattered. I am sure that you will find a lovely girl once you start college.” You had added quickly, cheerfully, rubbing the salt all over his wounds, honey dripping from your plump red lips. He had wanted to kiss them, bruise them, bite them until your stupid lying mouth was filled with blood. Obviously you didn’t have a boyfriend or he would have known by now, he stalked your social media religiously after all. Even if you had one, he probably treated you like shit. And how could you even suggest him finding another woman? As if he wanted any of the stupid money - grabbing sluts out there. As if some of them could replace you.

The boy was too furious to form a proper response besides “Fuck you, bitch”. His cheeks turned red and he didn’t realise that the bitter words had escaped his lips before he could stop them, then his legs took him far away from that shithole of a school. He didn’t manage to see your reaction before running away but it didn’t matter anymore. You were just like the others.

***

That day Jason swore to show you just how small and insignificant you had made him feel. He wanted to see you crumble, cry and beg for forgiveness, desperate for his love but never good enough to get it. The man formed a plan to change himself and come back for you once he had erased each and every trace of his past. The brunette came to terms with his terrible social anxiety and decided that he needed to gain social abilities more than anything. That’s why, as much as he dreamt of working from home as a boring programmer with an even more boring, but flexible working schelude, the male chose to study something that involved a lot more human interactions. The next step was to hit the gym for the first time and get a monthly subscription. It wasn’t hard to see that females nowadays liked brain - dead athletes with defined jawline and cheekbones, toned chests and strong muscled bodies, so if he wanted to impress you, he had to look his best. It wasn’t easy at first - it felt like everyone in the fitness salon had their eyes on his weak frame, laughing and pointing their fingers at his imperfections, but things gradually got better as time went on. The trainings became easier to get through and from time to time they even helped the man forget about his loneliness and nihilism.

Jason soon returned to his old habbit of spending hours looking through your accounts - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, he knew all of your usernames, each post, every picture and text. He couldn’t believe how much of a desperate attention whore you had become over the years. The male remembered you in your long brown skirts, cozy sweatshirts and pure-white shirts, all the gray buttons closed to the very top, blushing, laughing, smiling like the adorable Goody-two-shoes you were. Now you were smirking seductively in every photo, overconfident and vibrant, flaunting your tits for every man to see and wearing tight little dresses that barelly covered your ass combined with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a weapon. You were such a stupid slut it was disgusting, and he couldn’t stop himself from jerking off every single time he saw your pretty little face on the screen. He wanted to cum down your throat so badly it was ridiculous, and even after knowing that you had probably already had hundreds of cocks shoved deep inside your pussy, the brunette still wished to see you split open on his, taking his lenght like a good little cocksleeve.

***

The moment when he could see you again finally came. How many years had passed since graduation - five, ten, fifthteen? It hardly mattered. Jason was successful, at last. The male had his own business that was doing surprisingly well, there were some guys from the gym he could call friends and the best thing, he looked absolutely unrecognizable. There was nothing left of the tiny scrawny kid with quiet voice that everyone stepped over, he was now replaced by a strong capable man, determined to get what was rightfully his and his alone.

It wasn’t hard to find you since the brunette knew everything about you - where your job was, what time you finished, how long it took you to go home and what path you took. You lived alone and worked as a barista in a small local cafe even now that you had finished your studies in your dream faculty. Turns out the princess wasn’t so great and smart after all, having to resort to working a minimal - wage job day and night just to be able to pay her rent. Jason was absolutely delighted though, he loved your stupid dead - end job and your endless struggles to survive in the materialistic world honestly and fairly without selling yourself like a common whore. On one hand the male was happy that you had clung onto your last bit of innocence and on the other your pitiful lifestyle gave him the chance to snatch you away much easier. And that’s exactly what he did.

***

You woke up confused just like he had expected, bombarding him with questions, asking him who he was was, begging him to let you go, to at least explain what’s happening. You were so dumb, but God, you were still so pretty, if not prettier than before. You cried so beautifully when Jason told you you belonged to him now and you cried even more when he slammed his cold rough lips over yours in a deep wet kiss. You whimpered and whined while the male sucked on your lower lip and bit down, good, he wanted it to hurt. The stalker couldn’t wait to be inside you, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He climbed on top of you and pinned your wrists to the floor before tying them up with delicate red rope and tightening it. It wasn’t like the man was scared of you slipping away and hurting him, you were too weak and tiny to stand a chance against his years of power - lifting and muscle - training anyways, he just wanted you to be as uncomfortable and squirmish as possible. Your tormentor wished for you to be in worse pain than he had been during his youthful years, and he knew exactly what to do. Next thing you knew Jason had ripped your dress apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in just your plain old panties and bra. Cold shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air hit your naked flesh and you finally realized there wasn’t getting away from this. You had to stay there, limbs bound together, unable to move or fight back, the stranger’s hands caressing your neck before moving dangerously close to your clothed breasts. You felt so sick you were going to throw up for sure if your abductor didn’t step back so you decided to use your last resort.

“Jason, please stop!” You screamed out of the blue, forcing the brunette to freeze instantly at the use of his birth name. You had already called him a pervert and a psycho which didn’t seem to faze him, but the name clearly caught him off guard. This only seemed to prove your theory further - the man really was your former classmate, despite the only similarity between them being the dark distant look in his eyes. “I beg you, don’t hurt me!” You continued, hoping to at least buy yourself more time before the assault took place.

He gulped loudly and stared at your quivering form. The impossible had happened, you had recognized him and now together with fear, there was also pity in your gaze, the one emotion your captor absolutely despised. You used to be the only one who pitied him, and even now that he was bigger, better and stronger than before, you still had the guts to pity him. It drove him insane but any attempt to hurt or touch you was fruitless now - your soft skin was suddenly burning his fingers like hellfire.

“You must be thinking that I am a monster.” Jason started out dryly, chuckling bitterly, humorlessly even. He clenched his fists unconsciously and brought them to the floor in a fit of rage, missing your head by mere inches. Your heart was beating like crazy and you only hoped the mandman couldn’t hear it. “A freak.” The man spat out the word like it was a curse and for a split second his eyes softened before turning into two spinning torches. “Right?” You were sure that if looks could kill, his would have you dead by the end of the night so you quickly nodded your head no.

“You are lying to me again, pretty girl.” The brunette replied feisty, "pretty” rolling off his tongue like an insult. Then he broke into hoarse maniac laugher and lowered his head so his face leveled up with yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your tear - stained cheek. “When I am done with you, you wouldn’t be so pretty anymore, darling.” Your captor growled and attacked your neck, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. “You will see exaclty how ugly my love is.”

#yandere #yandere oneshot #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #yandere x you

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mianavs · 4 years ago

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the mission

Falling in Stockholm part 3

a/n: more revelations of the past and the mission that started it all

tw: smut, dubcon, yandere, mind break, imprisonment

wc: 3k

Falling in Stockholm

The moment Dabi locked the door, your miserable wait began. Time was meaningless in your brightly lit cell with no clock, calendar, or window to reassure you that it existed. The pain from his attacks subsided into a dull ache that let you relax and doze off from exhaustion. You eventually stopped trying to activate your quirk. It hadn’t worked ever since he’d injected you with that serum and the possibility that he’d managed to render you quirk-less plagued your thoughts.

Sleep came and went for you during your wait. The pain from your binds would bring you back from your slumber. The continued friction from the rough rope wore down your raw skin until warm blood pushed through the surface and lightly coated your wrists; you wondered if Dabi would arrive before the wounds festered. The blisters on your forearms, though painful, hadn’t burst yet to your relief. In your immobile situation, treating your burns was impossible and the blisters provided protection from infections. You looked down at the burnt handprint on your suit which revealed red marred flesh that was beginning to swell painfully against your clothing.

When it wasn’t your cuts or burns that woke you, it was your gut-wrenching hunger which had gone beyond mild growling and was painfully contorting against itself seeking food it didn’t have. It was the intensity of your hunger that drove you to act on the unfeasible act of getting to the fridge.

Using your abdominal muscles, you swung your bound legs back and forth until you began shifting slightly from your original spot. You alternated shifting your weight between your legs and your upper arms until you began to make even more progress on route to the fridge on the other side of the room. Your wounds screamed in pain as you pathetically shuffled on the ground but your hunger took over all your senses and the only thing on your mind was the need to satisfy it.

By the time you reached the fridge, blood and sweat covered your aching body but the elation from reaching the fridge made it all worth it. You nudged your shaky bound hands between the door and the fridge and pulled with all the strength you could muster. Expecting the door to swing open and possibly hit your mid-section, you were dumbfounded when the door remained closed no matter how hard you pulled on it. You were confused until you glanced up and saw a metal hatch attached to the fridge that held the door in place.

You screamed until your voice gave out. Hot tears streamed down your face as you slammed your face against the door repeatedly until your vision went hazy and the pain from your bloodied nose overcame the frustration and anger you felt when you realized your efforts had been for naught. You wouldn’t get to eat unless he let you.

The longer you lay on the floor in agony, the easier it was to succumb to your dark memories. Your first ‘training’ session with the Mayor resurfaced. He had been so eager to test your quirk to it’s limits that he had paid no mind to your young age and inexperience and inflicted pain you’d never felt before. After hours of excruciating pain, he left you with broken bones and in a puddle of blood, sweat, and tears for an entire day.

The almost identical situation you were in sent you into hysterics once again. You were forced to come to terms with the fact that you hadn’t gotten stronger. Just like that eight-year-old girl, you were abducted easily and forced into another jail cell to be tortured by another captor. All of your training and education to strengthen your quirk and body meant nothing and you felt as helpless as you did the day your parents were murdered in front of you by the Mayor.

Plagued by the repressed memories of your time with the Mayor, you didn’t even react when Dabi eventually came through the door. Your hazy vision didn’t see the momentary surprise on his face before he set down the bags he’d been carrying and took you into his arms to examine the damage.

Your face was covered in dried blood that matched the stain on the door of the fridge. Your suit was further torn from shuffling across the concrete floor. The worst, however, had to be your wounds that had begun to fester.

You didn’t protest when he ripped off the rest of your suit and removed your soiled underwear until you were bare before him. With care you didn’t know Dabi possessed, he gently set you down in a tub of warm water. You couldn’t help the tears that escaped when the water soothed your sore muscles and kissed your wounds. Wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and sleep, you were brought to reality by the sloshing of water and Dabi’s rough hands lifting you up slightly then setting you back down between his legs.

Another person’s warmth was something you never craved as a result of your childhood and growing up an orphan. In your current state, however, even you fell victim to the base human need to find comfort in others during difficult situations. Sweet inviting heat radiated off of Dabi’s chest and you easily rested your body on his, letting your eyes close in the process. You were only mildly aware of your surroundings as you let yourself relax. You felt his hands lather soap all over your body but that was all you felt as sleep won over and you drifted off.

You woke up to the sting of ointment on your wounds. Sitting on Dabi’s lap wrapped in only a towel, you watched as he meticulously cleaned and wrapped your thigh and wrists. He then shifted and carefully lifted you up only to realize you were awake.

“Sit here while I wrap your ankles.” His touch was light and careful as he cleaned the red skin of your ankles and then wrapped each one in a white bandage that he fastened with a clip. You couldn’t help but watch him as he worked at a steady pace until he gently set down your foot. You thought of running away but the lock on the door prevented you from acting on your impulse.

Dabi left but quickly returned with a change of clothes that you recognized as yours and you lifted your head in confusion.

“I stopped by your flat,” he replied and when you didn’t move, he spoke again. “Do you need help?”

You shook your head and wondered if he would stay as you fished for your underwear only to see Dabi closing the door behind him. You put on the sweatpants and shirt Dabi gave you and opened the door to a familiar scent that made your mouth water. On the table was a spread of your favorite foods: okonomiyaki, tonkatsu, and dorayaki.

You approached the table cautiously but noticed the two sets of chopsticks and the nod Dabi gave you as he set two bottles of water by your plate. You sat down and swallowed the saliva that filled your mouth as Dabi filled your plate with the delicious-smelling food. After he served himself and sat down, you picked up your chopsticks with trembling hands and picked up a piece of the breaded pork.

One taste and you were scarfing down the food eager to satisfy your hunger only to be stopped by Dabi slamming his chopsticks down and glowering at you.

“Slow down or I’ll take it away.”

You finished your meal slowly which you realized would prevent you from throwing it all up after not eating for a long time. Wondering exactly how much time had passed, you addressed your captor for the first time since his return.

“How long have I been here?” Dabi regarded you for a moment before taking a swig of beer. “About five days…gonna be six tomorrow.”

“Where did you go?” You pushed your luck unsure if it would end badly for you.

“Work.” He went back to finishing his share of the dorayaki and you couldn’t help glancing at the exit.

Were there other people around or was the building isolated from everyone?

Even if you did get out what would be on the other side?

“It’s locked,” He interrupted your thoughts and you looked away knowing it was useless without the key.

“So drugs and human trafficking?” He sent a confused but agitated look your way and you continued. “Your work. That’s what your gang specializes in, right?”

Dabi mulled over your words until he broke into a smirk. “Oh, is that what they told you about those idiots? I thought they’d be more creative—”

“What are you talking about?” You got agitated quickly when people kept you in the dark about something and Dabi was obviously doing just that. “Whose they?”

“The Hero Public Safety Commission,” he replied nonchalantly. “Didn’t they tell you to gather evidence on a band of no-name villains?”

His use of the exact phrase Takeru had told you shook you to your core and your mind raced to conjure an explanation. “H-How do you know that?!”

“Do you still not get it?” He grinned taking in your rigid form. “They set you up. We came to a deal. I offered them intel on some villains in exchange for you.”

A choked sob erupted from your throat and you starred at Dabi in horror as his words registered in your mind. You had hoped the HPSC would eventually find your location and rescue you but Dabi’s revelation killed any hope of being saved. You stood up and Dabi mimicked you waiting for you to make your move and pounce on you like a predator.

“They were pretty eager to get rid of you. You were too much of a danger to them and the rest of hero society.”

Your head throbbed and a ringing noise assaulted your ears the more Dabi explained the mission to you. Air became scarce and you began hyperventilating. With your heart drumming against your chest and your vison blurring, you took a step but your legs gave out beneath you. On the ground, you drew your legs to your chest and grasped your head.

“W-WHY?!” Your whole world crumbled in that moment and you fell into the dark pits of despair.

Dabi came down next to you and took you into his arms. He pressed your head against his chest and rocked you back in forth letting you ride out your panic attack. You gripped his cotton shirt and soaked it with your angry tears repeating the question you’d asked.

“They didn’t want a hero raised by villains to rise the ranks and gain influence. They couldn’t let you ruin their twisted system of heroes.”

“B-but I’m not a v-villain! I just want to save people and live a decent life! Why can’t t-they see that?!”

Dabi lifted you up in his arms and took you to the bed. “They don’t deserve you, Y/N. They sabotaged your career but it’s okay now. You’re here with me where you belong.”

Before you could get away, Dabi had you pinned down on the bed careful not to press on your bandaged wrists. You struggled against him but his grip only tightened and memories of the last time you’d angered him reminded you off his quirk. He began to press open-mouthed kisses against your exposed neck eliciting a gasp from your lips.

“We’ll get them back for everything they did to you. We’ll destroy them the same way they destroyed you. I’d do that and so much more for you, Y/N.”

His words should have repulsed you. You should have pushed him off and told him you didn’t want anything he had to offer. You should have tried to run away even if it got you punished. You should have done anything except what you were doing—what you were letting him do—but Dabi’s revelation changed everything. You didn’t know where you belonged. Hero society didn’t want you so why were you so desperate to get back?

Dabi interrupted your musings by pressing his hard-on against your clothed sex and nipping the skin on your collarbone. You bit your lip to muffle your moans as he moved his mouth to your ear and licked the skin around it. You were a quaking mess when his mouth claimed yours. The cold hard metal on his face made you gasp and his tongue was inside in no time. Your weakened mental state worked against you and the pleasure from kisses and thrusts against your sex wore you down. You gripped his hair and wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him closer.

He broke away first, the string of saliva breaking and dribbling down your flushed face. His shit faced smirk almost made you regret your decision—until he took off your pants and underwear and buried himself between your legs. His warm tongue that alternated between lapping and sucking on your clit combined with the cool metal staples had you gripping the sheets as waves of pleasure coursed through your body and your moans and cries echoed off the walls.

After coming undone on his mouth for the third time, he raised his head and took off his shirt to reveal the pattern of scarred skin, staples, and pale skin that matched his face. Whether your reaction to his flesh angered him, his face showed no indication and he went back to taking off the rest of your clothes. Fully conscious as opposed to how you were hours ago in the bath, you flushed as he greedily took in your splayed naked form before settling in between your thighs and languidly running his tongue up until he reached your left breast and licked the already hardened nipple while he flicked and pinched the right one.

He alternated between the two making your mind go blank from the intense pleasure he was giving you. Your sex was gushing once again just from him playing with your chest and you tugged on his hair to get his attention.

“Please…I need—I need it.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it and Dabi smirked knowingly.

“Say it and I’ll give it to you,” he replied before returning to your left nipple and biting down on it making you tear up in pain and pleasure.

“Fuck! Fuck me, please.”

He released your nipple with a pop and took his weight off you. You observed him as he unbuckled his jeans and took them off to reveal his tented boxers. He released his cock as he climbed back on the bed but your eyes remained on the pre that coated his head and dribbled down his shaft. As he settled between your legs and guided his cockhead towards your entrance, regret and apprehension dampened your desire.

“Wait, I don’t— HNNGH!”

Dabi sank in and bottomed out in one swift motion. His thick girth stretched you out painfully despite not being a virgin and you were sure you’d bleed. You tried shifting to get him off you but Dabi began mercilessly thrusting into your aching cunt despite your protests.

“Hurts—AH! It hurts!”

“Too hard—s’ too fast! Agh!”

“Shhh…I’ll make it feel good.” Dabi shifted slightly until he sat on the bed while gripping your hips and pulling you towards him. He then resumed thrusting at a much slower pace but his balls still slapped your skin and the head of his cock reached your cervix each time. The slapping noises of his skin on yours sounded wetter and you could feel the pleasure begin to bubble once again. His fingers suddenly began rubbing circles around your clit while the other traveled up and played with your nipples. With your pleasure at the brim, you lifted your hips to allow Dabi to hit that spot and you were soon rewarded with your release.

“Cum—I’m gonna cu—!” Your cum gushed out while you collapsed back on the bed, a spent and twitching mess.

Dabi wasted no time in letting you rest before he pulled you up on his lap and guided your hips with his hands. Placing wet kisses all over your neck and chest, he built up your pleasure once again until you were the one raising and slamming your hips down on his thick length.

“Fuck! Your cunt’s so good.” His warm breath tickled your neck before he bit down.

His praises made your cunt twitch even more and your hands traveled to his back where you scratched his back trying to hold on to your mind as the friction from your bodies and his deep thrusts fogged your senses until all you could feel was ecstasy as you bounced on his cock.

“Gonna cum! Argh—Milk my fucking cock! Take my cum—F-Fuck!”

Overstimulated, your walls convulsed around him and you soaked his lower stomach with your release. Seeing you squirt sent Dabi over the edge and his hot semen filled your cunt and dribbled out of you when he pulled out.

Panting and covered in sweat, you collapsed on his chest wanting nothing more than to sleep. Dabi held you in his arms until both your breathing evened out and heart rates returned to normal. He then lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom where he set you on the toilet seat and gently cleaned the cum and blood off your legs and sex. After cleaning himself off, he took you back to the bed, helped you dress, laid you down on the bed, and covered you with a warm blanket.

You could cry from how warm and soft the bed was compared to the cold hard floor you’d lain on over the past few days. In your exhausted state, the pain and suffering Dabi had put you through resurfaced and tears of frustration framed your eyes.

Dabi settled next to you, brought you to his chest, and wrapped his arms around you tightly. You hated yourself in that moment as you cried in your kidnapper’s chest while he rubbed comforting circles on your back. You shook and sobbed in anger but Dabi only hugged you closer and kissed the top of your head.

“I-I hate y-you! Y-you ruined m-my life!” You wailed but gripped his tear-soaked shirt. “What a-am I supposed t-to do now?!”

“Shhh…you’ll get used to this. Once you’re obedient we’ll be happy together, you’ll see.”

You weren’t used to sleeping next to someone else; having their warmth envelop your body and listening to the gentle beating of their heart. It was a foreign sensation but you quickly found out that sleeping in Dabi’s arms brought you more comfort than you’d felt in a long time. It reminded you of warm Sunday mornings and walking hand-in-hand with your parents to the park. That night you didn’t dream of pain and suffering with the Mayor or past missions the HPSC sent you on. You dreamt of your parents and how happy you’d been once upon a time.

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rockislandadultreads · 3 years ago

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Hilariously Funny Fantasy: Books to Check Out

The Hike by Drew Magary

When Ben, a suburban family man, takes a business trip to rural Pennsylvania, he decides to spend the afternoon before his dinner meeting on a short hike. Once he sets out into the woods behind his hotel, he quickly comes to realize that the path he has chosen cannot be given up easily. With no choice but to move forward, Ben finds himself falling deeper and deeper into a world of man-eating giants, bizarre demons, and colossal insects. On a quest of epic, life-or-death proportions, Ben finds help comes in some of the most unexpected forms, including a profane crustacean and a variety of magical objects, tools, and potions. Desperate to return to his family, Ben is determined to track down the “Producer,” the creator of the world in which he is being held hostage and the only one who can free him from the path. At once bitingly funny and emotionally absorbing, Magary’s novel is a remarkably unique addition to the contemporary fantasy genre, one that draws as easily from the world of classic folk tales as it does from video games. In The Hike, Magary takes readers on a daring odyssey away from our day-to-day grind and transports them into an enthralling world propelled by heart, imagination, and survival.

Peril in the Old Country by Sam Hooker

What terror lurks in the shadows of the Old Country? Well, there are the goblins, of course. Then there are the bloodthirsty cannibals from nearby Carpathia, secret societies plotting in whispers, and murder victims found drained of their blood, to name a few. That's to say nothing of the multitude of government ministries, any one of which might haul one off for "questioning" in the middle of the night. The Old Country is saturated with doom, and Sloot is scarcely able to keep from drowning in it. Each passing moment is certain to be his last, though never did fate seem so grim as the day he was asked to correct the worst report ever written. Will the events put in motion by this ghastly financial statement end in Sloot's grisly death? Almost definitely. Is that the worst thing that could happen? Almost definitely not.

An Orc on the Wild Side by Tom Holt

An Orc on the Wild Side is the latest comic masterpiece from one of the funniest writers in fantasy. Winter is coming, so why not get away from it all? Being the Dark Lord and Prince of Evil is not as much fun as it sounds, particularly if you are a basically decent person. King Mordak is just such a person. Technically he's more goblin than person, but the point is that he is really keen to be a lot less despicable than his predecessors. Not that the other goblins appreciate Mordak's attempts to redefine the role. Why should they when his new healthcare program seems designed to actually extend life expectancy, and his efforts to end a perfectly reasonable war with the dwarves appear to have become an obsession? With confidence in his leadership crumbling, what Mordak desperately needs is a distraction. Perhaps some of these humans moving to the Realm in search of great homes at an affordable price will be able to help?

Reincarnation Blues by Michael Poore

A magically inspiring tale of a man who is reincarnated through many lifetimes so that he can be with his one true love: Death herself. What if you could live forever—but without your one true love? Reincarnation Blues is the story of a man who has been reincarnated nearly 10,000 times, in search of the secret to immortality so that he can be with his beloved, the incarnation of Death. Neil Gaiman meets Kurt Vonnegut in this darkly whimsical, hilariously profound, and wildly imaginative comedy of the secrets of life and love. Transporting us from ancient India to outer space to Renaissance Italy to the present day, is a journey through time, space, and the human heart.

#fantasy #adult fantasy #to read #funny books #humor #humorous fiction #dark humor #tbr #reading recommendations #Book Recommendations #book recs #library books #highly recommend #booklr #book tumblr #fantasy fiction

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imaginesandinserts · 4 years ago

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Irreverent Pt. 59 - Through the Looking Glass

Title: Irreverent Pt. 59 - Through the Looking Glass

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~3K

Irreverent Series Masterlist

The sun feels warm despite the light breeze rustling the leaves as you tilt your head up, propping it against the back of the bench and close your eyes. You can pick up the sounds of children playing nearby, the distant noise of the road half a mile away, and the movement of the trees as you bask in the moment of peace.

When you finally sit up straight once more, you can see Aaron and Jack still standing at the side of the lake, feeding the ducks. You'd taken it in turns, staying with him as he went through the two loaves of bread. You wouldn't be surprised to wake up tomorrow and find ducks sitting in your front lawn, having followed your far too generous son home.

From beside you, you hear a low rumbling laugh as Jack chases after some of the more aloof birds, trying to get them to partake in his offering as well. Smiling easily, you look up and meet John's eye briefly before you both return to watching Jack terrorize one of the swans in his insistence on feeding it. Must be on a low carb diet.

Satisfied that he was still occupied and Aaron didn't seem to need to tap either of you in, you turn back to your bench companion, fixing him with a pointed look.

He rolls his eyes good naturedly at you, before slumping back and wordlessly giving you permission to ask what you'd been dying to know ever since he'd arrived earlier that morning.

"So, how's it going with Denise?" You draw out the girl's name, a teasing smile on your face. You know that whatever happened must be good. When you'd asked him that, first thing at his arrival, only to be interrupted by Jack's excited voice at his Uncle's arrival, John had merely muttered that he'd tell you later. If he didn't want Jack overhearing, it had to be good.

John shifts, turning and leaning his side against the back of the bench so that he can face you better, leg bent up onto the seat. At the look of bated glee on your face, he shakes his head, quickly dissuading you of any positive sentiments regarding what he was about to reveal.

"I ended it," he admits with a sigh, watching your face crumple in disappointment.

"Why, what happened?" you prod, clearly displeased. You'd thought things with him and Denise were going well. They'd been on three dates already and based on what John had told you and Aaron last time, she was promising. Far more promising than Heather from two months ago. He'd brought that one along to Emily's birthday party that you'd hosted at your new place, and from the moment she'd opened her mouth and made a comment about how Instagrammable your foyer was, it had been downhill.

John's face morphs into a rueful sort of smile. "Honestly? She was a little too freaky for me."

You let his words sink in, the incredulous pull of your eyebrows betraying exactly how ridiculous you found his statement.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He knows how that sounds to you, especially coming from him. He runs a hand through his hair, glancing around once more to make sure that Jack isn't about to walk in on anything he shouldn't overhear. "Let's just say we weren't compatible?"

You scoff, but let him get away with just that. Maybe later, after dinner and drinks, he'd be more forthcoming around the details. Though what this girl could've possibly done that was too freaky was beyond you. John wasn't exactly a prude.

"Well, we'll just have to keep trying. Maeve has a few friends that work with her at the lab. I can ask her to see if any of them are single. Cece might know some people she'd be willing to hook you up with – none of her friends, of course. Or, maybe we try online dating? Though it's an abhorrent cesspool of the worst society has to offer, but who knows, maybe someone will emerge as a good candidate."

John smiles at your hopeful tone, allowing you to continue chatting about the various ways he could go about snagging a girlfriend. He knows a large part of your insistence on finding someone for him stems from guilt. He and Aaron had talked about it, with your persistence in finding him a girl growing in magnitude and intensity the closer it got to your impending nuptials. It was as though you were scared that him seeing you marry someone, without having someone by his side, would tear him apart. He's been stalling having that conversation with you. He's not about to crumble at the sight of you marrying someone that isn't him. Hell, even Cece wasn't worried about him anymore. The last time he'd seen her and her kids for brunch, she'd actually given him her own bill of health to attend your wedding. Aaron was right – he had to talk to you about it soon.

" – and well of course we'd get Pen to run a background check because who knows with the internet really. Should try to avoid the catfishers or the crazy serial killers with a vendetta against beautiful blond men – "

Your tirade is interrupted by someone calling your name, causing both you and John to start, breaking away from your conversation to look in the direction the voice had come from.

"Cedric!" Your face turns up at the sight of the man making his way towards the two of you, bearing a smile that could light up any room. John's eyebrows rise, recognizing the name from a few weekends back when he'd been over.

You pointedly ignore his expression as the both you stand to greet Cedric as he approaches, looking wonderfully windswept in jogging clothes. Of course he jogs on a Saturday morning.

The only reason John even knew about Cedric was because he'd been around for the Great Champagne Debacle of 2012. After yet another delivered case of Dom Pérignon, Aaron had had an entirely uncharacteristic breakdown, insisting that you communicate with Cedric Kensington and inform him that you were very much taken and did not need him or his champagne.

"If it's about getting the shipment, I'll get you a monthly shipment," he'd protested in the face of your refusal to go out of your way to call someone you'd briefly dated to inform them that you were taken, thank you very much. You'd told him that it wasn't as if Cedric was placing the order himself. More than likely, he had asked his assistant to do it once and had simply forgotten to tell her to stop once the two of you had ended.

It had been entirely bizarre to see Aaron so worked up over something seemingly small, and you refused to placate whatever insecurity was behind it. Annoyingly, John had been on Aaron's side of it all and the two of them had drank a little too much and added Cedric's name to the mailing list for wedding invitations. Cedric Kensington was a complete class act. The shipment after that was accompanied by balloons and a giant Congratulations sign, much to both of their shame and your complete amusement. It wasn't Cedric's fault that the men in your life were incapable of understanding when someone was kind and giving without expecting a single thing in return.

"It's good to see you again," he greets you with a quick peck to your cheek before turning to the man beside you. "This must be Aaron, congratulations man." He sticks his hand out towards John to shake.

"Thankfully, no," John responds, meeting Cedric's outstretched hand, a smirk on his face as he looks at you to clarify. This was hardly the first time someone had made that particular mistake, especially given that both Jack and John had light hair compared to Aaron's darker locks. You suppose you could see how people made that particular mistake, and the three of you were starting to get a sense of humor about it. Some joke about sister wives had made the rounds one time too many, resulting in you pelting the two of them with pillows with Jack as your second in command.

"Cedric, this is John," you clarify, trying and almost succeeding at hiding your exasperation with him. "He's a friend. But Aaron is actually –" You break off to look around, spotting him and Jack a little further away from where they'd been the last time. You'd really like for your husband-to-be, to meet the man whose champagne him and his new best friend had gotten drunk off of. The story of how John had earned that title had resulted in more than one person upset with Aaron. Namely, you, who had to corral the two of them back home – a feat that was remarkable and which you did not get nearly enough credit for accomplishing on your own – and David Rossi, who until that moment had considered himself to be Aaron's best friend and had not taken kindly to being dethroned. Aaron was still making it up to Dave.

"I'll send him over," John says, nodding at Cedric before walking towards the lake to trade spots with Aaron. Jack still had some bread left to go.

"How're you?" you ask, turning back to Cedric. Of all the men you'd dated between John and Aaron, he was hands down the favorite.

Cedric fills you in on how the business was doing and in turn you were able to share an abridged version of how you were doing as well, as the two of you waited for Aaron to make his way over.

"With the consolidation, I think I'm going to be in DC a lot more," he shares, unknowingly planting a seed in your head.

Right then, you feel Aaron walking up behind you, and turning, in the distance you can make out John chasing after Jack as he races to feed that one difficult swan.

"You must be Aaron," Cedric stands straighter and meets Aaron's eyes, reaching a hand out towards him. "Congratulations, you're a lucky man."

Aaron smiles at that. "Oh, I know."

You watch as the two of them smile and shake hands, exchanging pleasantries. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't have been able to tell that your fiancé had been incredibly bothered by this man only a few weeks back. You can only imagine what John had said to him when he'd gone over to send him your way.

"Hope we'll be seeing you at the wedding," Aaron remarks, an arm winding around your waist.

Cedric smiles and nods. "It's already on my calendar."

"Good!" you exclaim. "There's someone I want you to meet."

He chuckles and agrees, no doubt knowing you're about to set him up with someone.

As Cedric takes his leave, Aaron turns to you slightly bashful, his eyes finding yours with the hint of an apology in them. "He seems like a nice guy."

Your elbow meets the soft part of his stomach as you duck out from his hold. "He is a nice guy. Honestly," you huff, shaking your head. "You and John need to cool it."

"Hey, I'm not the one who added his name to the list," Aaron protests, unwittingly bringing up an argument that was only freshly buried. He hurries to catch up with you as you make your way towards the lake.

"Yeah, but you didn't exactly stop the guy who did, now did you?" You try to keep your face severe in an attempt to get him to grovel just a little bit more, but your amusement at the entire turn of events ends up betraying you.

With a soft laugh and a shrug in apology, he moves his hand down to hold yours as the two of you continue to walk towards where Jack has now managed to talk John into carrying him around atop his shoulders so he can feed (terrorize) the birds attempting to fly past.

"You want him to meet Garcia?" he guesses, brow quirking up in some interest.

You nod. Elliot Greenberg and Penelope had broken up a few months back, citing irreconcilable differences on both their parts and they'd both been rather hush hush about the matter. You figure setting her up with Cedric – well renowned tech tycoon – might help cheer her up. Plus, he was obviously looking to settle down. Who knows, it could work out.

As you approach, both Jack and John turn towards the two of you.

"Mom! Uncle John said we can go to the Zoo tomorrow. Can we?" Jack's cherubic cheeks and hopeful smile look down at you from atop John's shoulders, eyes pleading with you to take him to the Zoo once more so he could sit in front of the giraffe habitat for an hour.

No matter how long it's been since he started calling you Mom, it still tugs at your heartstrings. However, that didn't mean you were about to take that kid to the Zoo for the third time in as many months.

You raise a disapproving eyebrow at John, as Aaron goes to help Jack off of his shoulders. "Sorry buddy, Mom and I have an appointment with the wedding planner tomorrow," Aaron tells him, setting Jack down with an exaggerated groan. "But, you know, I bet Uncle John would love to take you on his own."

You meet Aaron's eyes with a matching smirk, knowing he had no intention of going to the Zoo tomorrow either. If the two of you could wrangle John into free babysitting for the day, then all the better. You were sure the two of you could manage to find some way to occupy yourselves.

Jack's hopeful gaze turns up to John who rolls his eyes at both you and Aaron before telling Jack that Of course he'd take him to the Zoo.

The four of you walk back towards the parking lot, John and Jack racing up ahead while you and Aaron bring up the rear hand in hand. On the drive back, Jack manages to convince you to stop and pick up ice cream and a DVD for the night. Sometime during the latter half of the movie, nestled against Aaron's chest, your eye wanders over to Jack and John on the other couch. Jack's splayed out all across John's space, feet wedged in underneath John's thigh. You can tell he's about seconds from passing out and you weren't too far behind. Your eyes meet John's, sinking into a quick, easy smile before he turns his attention back towards the screen. You end up staring a moment longer, taking in the sight of him and Jack being close in a manner you wouldn't have thought possible even six months ago.

From behind you, Aaron shifts, adjusting you in his arms and cradling your head against his shoulder. You look up to see his deep brown eyes tracing your features, having long forgotten the movie on the screen. It's like he knows exactly what you'd been thinking, his eyes flickering momentarily to the other couch before returning to yours, a peaceful smile gracing his face. With a quick squeeze to his arm, you shuffle closer to him, allowing his warmth to lull you to sleep.

#irreverentseries #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #hotch x you #hotch x reader

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

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Save Him

Alright. Got an idea and I gotta get it out before I lose it completely

Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

There are no gender specific terms in this, so it’s anybody’s read.

Warnings: Slight angst, light fluff, Shiggy being really freaking soft and vulnerable

Word Count: 1.3k

Author’s Note: Weak Shiggy has me weeping and I love it so much. Like, there’s no way he’s not struggling with the nature of his quirk. It’s gotta take a toll on him mentally, and I really wanted to channel it here. I may or may not write a part 2 if I can figure out what to actually write...

*Update, I figured out what to write lol*

Part 2 - Part 3

Enjoy~

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like your quirk at least a little bit. It wasn’t an offensive quirk, in fact you couldn’t use it for any type of combat. But it did have its perks. Anyone within a ten foot radius of you would have their quirks temporarily nullified while in that space. Hell, they didn’t even have to be standing in that ten foot radius. Once a quirk got past that mark, it quite literally dissolved. It had taken a while for your quirk to even be able to show itself. When you were little, most people thought you were quirkless. It had taken a couple years for you to realize that people’s quirks stopped working around you.

That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? Nobody wanted to be anywhere near you, because you couldn’t turn it off. Your parents hadn’t even stuck around for a week after you were born, choosing instead to dump you at the doorstep of an orphanage. You’d gotten sick of that life rather quickly. Now you were living on the streets, stealing and fighting your way around. You didn’t care about society anymore, the world could burn for all you care. It’s left you to rot, completely forgotten.

Other than survival, you had a slightly different goal in mind. There was a person - a villain, so they say. He couldn’t touch anything with all five of his fingers, or the subject of his touch would crumble to dust. And you wanted nothing more than to give him what he no doubt wanted: To be able to touch, and not fear leaving nothing but dust in its wake. You couldn’t possibly imagine what that felt like. Sure there were things like specialty gloves he could wear. But it’s not quite the same, is it?

And that goal is what put you here, right now. Like an idiot you’d gone and decided you’d look for the famous leader of the League of Villains. And you’d gotten caught. And you were strapped to a chair, in an old bar, with Tomura Shigaraki’s ungloved hand at your throat, one finger lifted in a threat he had no idea was stupidly empty.

“I’m not going to ask again, doll, who the fuck sent you?” he spat, the alcohol on his breath swarming your senses. “I won’t hesitate to let my finger down and watch your body crumble into dust.” You look him dead in the eyes and repeat the same thing you’d said about ten times before. “Do it Shigaraki! Put your finger down! You don’t fucking scare me. I wasn’t sent by anyone. I came on my own! I came to find you and finally give you something you might want.” You nearly snarled into his face, your voice hoarse and throat raw.

Dabi was the only other person there, at the far end of the bar. He’d been watching the entire scene play out, and he was finally getting bored. “Just fucking kill ‘em already. This shit’s getting old.” But Shigaraki wasn’t having it. He was convinced you were there for some ulterior motives. And, well, he wasn’t completely wrong. You didn’t actually tell him what you wanted to ‘give’ him. He decided he couldn’t do anything on his own. “Dabi, get the fuck over here. You’re gonna burn it out of this thick ass skull.”

The patchworked villain’s eyebrows shot up and his lips pulled into a sickly sadistic grin. You weren’t at all worried, though, knowing exactly what would happen. As soon as he stepped into that ten foot radius, he froze. His face dropped, and he looked you right in the eyes, knowing exactly why you were unfazed by Shigaraki’s threats. He titled his head at you, and he glanced over at Shigaraki, then back to you. “Give…” he muttered, recalling your words, and you gave a small nod.

“What the fuck are you just standing there for? Get your fucking flames out!” Shigaraki growled. You had no idea how he hadn’t noticed his missing quirk. Dabi looked at him, “Do it. Put down your last finger.” “What the fuck? Now you wanna kill the little shit?!” he yelled, clearly annoyed. Instead, Dabi waltzed over to you, brought out a knife, and cut all the ropes from your chair. He knew exactly what you were here for. And the second you were free, he left the room.

Shigaraki only stared, dumbfounded. His moment of shock gave you just enough time to grab his wrist, pull it up in between your faces, and lace your fingers through all five of his, squeezing hard. He stared at his hand entwined in yours, and his eyes drifted to meet yours. Your eyes were full of resolve and conviction, and his shifted from anger, to fear, to complete sadness in a split second. “This is what I came to give you, Shigaraki. This is why you don’t scare me. This is why all of your threats were completely, ridiculously empty,” you say, never breaking eye contact.

You didn’t know what kind of reaction to expect from the villain, considering his reputation for being completely and utterly ruthless. People always said he was a bloodthirsty monster, a villain in all respects of the name. But the man that stood in front of you was so incredibly vulnerable you didn’t know what to think. You stood there, his hand in yours, staring into each other’s eyes for nearly a minute.

After a long, thick silence, a lone tear fell down the man’s face, and the hand you were holding began to shake. In that moment you knew that this limited contact alone wasn’t enough. You slowly dropped his hand at his side, and opened your arms wide. He looked down at your outstretched arms, and in a split second he launched himself into your embrace, wrapping his arms around your torso, cradling his face into your neck, clawing at your back like it was his lifeline. You held him as he shook, stroking his hair and rubbing circles into his back.

When his sobs died down, you began to pull away, and he squeezed you tighter in his arms. You chuckled softly, “I’m not going anywhere. But I think it would be a good idea to get a little more comfortable,” you said, still petting his hair. He nodded, letting you out of the embrace and lacing his hand through yours again, and began to lead you to his room. He was completely silent the entire time. As he reached his door he hestitated, and made sure to keep one finger off the doorknob.

You noticed the small break in his movements. “You don’t have to worry around me. Your quirk doesn’t work at all in a ten foot radius of me. It will be completely nullified, like you’re quirkless, until you step out of the area.” He looked at you once more before wrapping all five fingers around the door handle and opening the door. Such a simple task would seem normal, but for him it was a haven he never wanted to leave, and he held onto the door for a few seconds longer.

When you reached the mattress on the floor, he let you lay down first on your back, and he lay down almost completely on top of you. His head was on your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers digging into your skin under your shirt, relishing in the feeling. If he wanted to keep you here forever, you’d be more than happy to stay. Because you were finally wanted.

For once, someone desperately wanted to be around you.

For once he could touch without fear of destruction.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki tomura fanfic

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torikengel · 4 years ago

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Thomas Hewitt x Reader (Part 8)

Thomas quickly took out his mask and put it back in its place. He couldn’t face Hoyt without it as he would probably mock and tease him. You held your breath, as you didn’t want to panic. It would be okay, right? Thomas was right next to you, there’s no way you would die now.

“Thomas Brown Hewitt.” Hoyt hissed. “What do you think you are doing with it?” he pointed the gun at you.

It. IT? Seriously, you were just a thing for this guy. You trembled, fearing for your life. You didn’t dare to make a sound, but you instinctively hid behind Thomas. Hoyt smirked at your reaction, he was having fun making you feel uncomfortable and threatened.

“So, now that she got her last wish, it’s time to butcher ‘er. We’re short on meat anyway.” He cocked his head back and laughed. He sent shivers down your spine; you could feel the cold sweat trailing down your skin. Thomas growled at Hoyt and protectively covered your body with his.

“Now, now, Tommy boy, don’t even try to act up again. I am the head of this family, and you will listen to everythin’, I say!” he sneered.

“Either take her to the basement, or I am taking her to my room to get some use of her.” Hoyt stepped towards you and Thomas to take you away.

Your heart was racing like never before. Now you were extremely mad at yourself for not trying to escape. Your attempts to stay alive were all futile, you thought. Thomas, however, had different plans. He didn’t back off but stepped up to Hoyt, letting him put the gun at him. He knew that Hoyt was bluffing; he would never shoot Thomas as he wouldn’t have anyone to do the dirty work for him.

“Step aside, Tommy boy.” Hoyt snickered and put the gun down. “Come one, it’s just a piece of meat, it’s like all the other girls before. Ya can’t believe that she would like ya. Look at ‘er pretty face and then look in the mirror.” He mocked Thomas. Thomas’s confidence crumbled. He was big and strong, yes, but he was still very self-conscious about his appearance, and it didn’t help that his family except Luda made fun of him like this. This put Hoyt on a pedestal.

“See, now that’s a good boy. Uncuff that bitch and lemme have her for a while before butcherin’ her.” Hoyt scoffed.

“Thomas isn’t ugly… don’t talk to him like this…” you said with a trembling voice. It pained you to hear how Hoyt talked to Thomas. Like he was worse than a dog. Hoyt’s eyes widened. He was shocked by your exclamation but quickly responded. “My my did no one ever taught you manners, missy? Don’t meddle in other family’s business.”

“I’ve heard enough.” A female voice interrupted your conversation with Hoyt. “I told you that you wouldn’t speak like this about Thomas.” Luda Mae ranted. “Plus, it’s not appropriate in front of our guest.” She scolded Hoyt. Hoyt was furious. “Guest?” he hissed as he looked at your face.

“Yes, y/n is our guest right now. I won’t let you hurt her unless she does something Tommy doesn’t like.” She exclaimed calmly. She could let Hoyt treat everyone like garbage, even herself, but definitely not her son.

“Now, dinner is ready, please come in,” she said and disappeared into the kitchen again. Hoyt followed her back inside without a word. Thomas led you to the table and uncuffed you, so you both could sit down. You could hear the voices from the kitchen.

“What do you think you are doin’ woman?” Hoyt angrily asked Luda. “I am doin’ what’s best for ma son.” She replied. You looked at Thomas, who had that pained expression again. You grabbed his hand under the table. Despite fearing for your life, your heart ached when you saw him in this state. You remembered his sweet smile when he looked at you, and he seemed happy… now he had sorrow in his eyes. “Thank you, Tommy.” You tried to console him. You tightened the grip on his hand… your hand was so much smaller than his that his palm completely enveloped yours.

The dinner was quiet and awkward. You finished your plate as you didn’t want to stir the pot more by refusing the meat, even if it made you a cannibal too. After eating, Thomas led you into your room, lost in his thoughts. He didn’t make a sound, and after you sat on the bed, he bolted out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Hoyt’s words marked him… such a cruel man, you thought. You deeply exhaled and lied down on the bed. It was a long day, and you were tired from all the walking and the ever-present danger. You were so startled and confused by everything that you didn’t even realize that you were uncuffed and fell asleep in no time.

You woke up in the middle of the night… “What a terrible nightmare.” You murmured and rubbed your tired eyes. You looked around to find yourself in the room, that was your personal prison. After contemplating it for a while, you decided to stand up, only to find out that you are basically free. You carefully inspected your wrists and ankles, not being able to grasp the reality of being unshackled. “I bet it’s just a dream.” You said as you decided to pinch yourself, but then you realized that this indeed is happening. You tiptoed to the door and placed your ear onto the door to check if someone is awake. After being unable to hear a thing, you gained the confidence to open the door. The hallway was so dark; you could barely see anything. You crept down the stairs, trying not to make any sound. After you finally managed to go down the stairs, you darted to the main door. Your freedom was right before you. Just turn the doorknob and run was all you had to do. One door separating you from getting your life back. You hesitantly placed your hand on the doorknob… your heart was beating so fast, adrenaline rushing through your veins. It was here again, exactly what happened when you could’ve escaped earlier the previous day. But now Thomas wasn’t here to stop you… Thomas. His name echoed in the back of your mind as you remembered his expression when he glanced at you during the dinner. “Thomas…” you whispered for yourself. You couldn’t understand your fixation on this man, your captor—dangerous murderer. You touched your lips as you remembered the kiss and then the familiar tingling in your stomach. “I am foolish.” You facepalmed and giggled at your incompetence.

“Unbelievable…” you gasped. The hand that was on the doorknob fell down, and you walked away from the door, defeated by your own feelings. You wondered around the house only to find the door to the basement. You didn’t think twice before sneaking inside as quietly as possible.

You found Thomas leaning on one of the tables. He was so busy rethinking everything that he didn’t pay attention to any noises you might’ve made. Plus, he was tired as well. He just couldn’t sleep. “Tommy.” You whispered, trying not to make him panic. Well, he did anyway. He immediately snapped back into reality and ran straight at you. “Shhhh.” You placed a finger on your lips. “Your footsteps might wake someone up.” You exclaimed calmly, despite Thomas looking scary. He was used to chasing people who suddenly appeared in the house. He was confused… did he forget to cuff you? If so, what were you doing in the basement? Why didn’t you escape?

“I couldn’t sleep…” you said sheepishly and looked at him.

Thomas nodded in agreement.

You looked around before your gaze shifted back to Thomas again. This basement… here you met Thomas for the first time, here you were on the brink of death. The horrible smell of death wasn’t as noticeable, and the blood was nowhere to be found. You could see Thomas’s confusion in his radiant blue eyes. It was dark in the basement, except for one ray of moonlight shining through a small window that you didn’t notice was here before.

“You look great in the moonlight.” You blushed as you saw Thomas’s features without the mask highlighted.

Thomas was mesmerized by your gorgeous face in this atmosphere too. You had sparkles in your big e/c eyes too, so beautiful. You gently smiled at him and stepped towards him. He didn’t wear the bloody apron now, and you really thought he looked… attractive? He wasn’t handsome in any conventional way, but something about him just dragged you towards this man. As you were close enough that you could hear your nervous breaths, you cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips on his. Thomas, still a bit inexperienced, just leaned towards you and held you around your waist. You gained a bit of confidence and made way into his mouth with your tongue to kiss him more passionately. Thomas was surprised, but he let you as he loved everything you did to him. He just melted into the kiss and tried to copy your moves. After your lips parted, you were both panting. You looked at him with lust in your eyes. He made you so crazy about him. You wanted him so much that you were willing to sacrifice your freedom and your whole life with him. You could’ve escaped, but here you were kissing a killer… but you really thought that he had pure heart, he was misunderstood, society turned him into a monster. But with you, he was protective and caring… he spared your life. Your needs and emotions clouded your judgment. You wrapped your arms around his neck and desperately kissed him again while running your fingers through his hair. It was hard for Thomas to keep up as he never experienced anything like this, but he let you lead it. For him, it was the most beautiful moment of his life. It was so perfect that he thought he fell asleep after all, and this was just a dream.

“Tommy… I-“ you whimpered after you pulled back, gasping for air. You wanted him but couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud. It was embarrassing… You were ashamed of your behavior and ruining your chance to run away, but you couldn’t deny your feelings. You grabbed him by the tie and then untied it. Then your fingers slipped to the buttons of his shirt as you started unbuttoning it. Thomas never felt more anxious. He knew what the outcome of this could be, but he was still new to all this. His heart was pounding so fast he thought that it might explode, and heat rushed to his cheeks, making him blush.

“It’s okay, Tommy… tell me if you want me to stop.” You whispered and looked at him. Thomas shook his head. He wanted you too. Even if he was scared, he was also completely infatuated by you.

After you were done with his shirt, you could see his bare upper body for the first time. He really was so big and ripped… your heart skipped as you gazed at him. You passionately kissed him again and then made a trail of kisses down his neck to collar bone. Thomas quietly moaned when he felt your warm lips against his skin. Then you stepped back and looked at him. “Are you sure you want this?” you weren’t sure if this question was really directed at Thomas or yourself.

Thomas nodded and smiled at you.

an: I am sorry for not posting a new chapter earlier, but I will redeem myself and post some NSWF tomorrow in the next one <3

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destielharlequinchallenge · 4 years ago

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The Destiel Harlequin Challenge Master Post: 2020 Mega Bang

Participants in the 2020 Destiel Harlequin Challenge completed an amazing 20 fics and 3 sets of artwork! You can learn all about those here!

Spectre (fic by a_dusky_gold, art by aceriee)

This whole thing… this was supposed to be a fucking farce. A way to keep Nicholas Vaught occupied until the deadline he’d given Dean would run out, and he’d still get the money to send Dad to the Town Hall rehabilitation for alcoholism, because that was the goddamned deal.

There were no such things as ghosts or magic or a Book of Life. Dean knows, okay? He wasn’t the Army’s goddamned Mystery Raider for nothin’; he knows history, he knows artifacts, and he knows that the Book of Life is an ancient myth that is about as real as werewolves or vampires.

And yet.

“The Book of Life,” the man had said. Dean can’t even remember his name.

Shit, shit, shit.

Dangerous Ground by Amethystaris

Special Agents for the Department of Diplomatic Security, Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester have been partners and best friends for three years, but everything changed the night Cas admitted the truth about his feelings for Dean. And when Cas was shot a few hours later, Dean felt his reluctance to get involved was vindicated.

Can a camping trip in the High Sierras save their partnership?

Honour Undressed by andimeantittosting

Among his friends, Castiel, Lord Milton is everyone’s confidant and, along with his trusted valet, the fixer of problems. But there is one secret Castiel has never shared: he is in love with his valet and has been for years.

Born in the gutters, Dean Winchester was assigned as Castiel’s batman in the war, and when Castiel travelled home to take up his title, Dean followed him as his valet. To assist Castiel, Dean is not above a little burglary or blackmail. But the one thing he wants for himself is Castiel’s heart.

When Castiel’s closest friends become the target of a blackmailer, certain truths come out. But while Dean determines to seduce Castiel, Castiel is adamant that he must resist, for if there is one rule a gentleman must follow, it is never to dally with his servant.

Havenport by BlueMasquerade

Castiel cleared space on his desk by the expedience of sweeping the previous contents to the side. He set the bundle down in the center of the surface and studied the knots in the rope before expertly untying them.

The book was old, its leather bindings cracked and crumbling. He carefully opened the cover to reveal the pages within, each hand cut, the edges beautifully deckled, the text written in pen and ink.

“This is written in ancient Enochian.” Castiel looked up, gaze narrowed. “Where did you obtain a book written in ancient Enochian?”

“Is that what it is? All I could tell is that it sure as hell isn’t English.” Mr. Winchester grinned, a dimple flashing in his cheek.

an aching in my heart by contemplativepancakes

When Dean’s best friend dies, leaving behind her daughter, Dean knows he has what it takes to give Claire the life she deserves. The problem is, they’re not related by blood, and Claire’s long lost uncle gets called to take her in. Castiel Novak was bad news when he was in highschool with Dean, and judging by his blue hair and tattoo sleeves, nothing’s changed. Castiel ran out on his family once before, and there’s no way Dean’s going to let that happen to Claire without putting up a fight.

Fools and Fate by Danica_Dust

Castiel Novak fled his coven to escape the rigid, predetermined Fate laid out for him within its confines. Desperate and alone, he took shelter in the city of Sacriloga, forsaking all magic and living off whatever he could steal. There, witches like Cas are hunted. They are feared. And they are burned.

When Jack, a young witch also on the run from his own coven, seeks out Cas’ aid, however, Cas finds that he cannot reject the boy, leaving him to his sure destruction. Especially after the newest visitor to Sacriloga makes his presence known: the legendary Hunter, Dean Winchester, who has been following Jack’s trail.

Sworn to the Men of Letters, Hunters live by one principle: thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Dean’s path was never meant to cross with Cas', but a desperate stunt and a single mistake forces them into an impossible union—holy matrimony.

The war between the witches and the Men of Letters is an ancient one and Cas' most dangerous enemies bring a Fate worse than fire. Unable to ignore his growing feelings, yet powerless to change what he is, a choice must be made.

A suffocating Fate on one hand. A precarious freedom on the other. And in between, the kind of love that makes fools of us all.

Ozone by Deancebra

A young magic user who wants desperately to live. A jaded recluse who has forgotten what living means. They’re each other’s only chance.

Dean’s wild magic is killing him. The mage guilds have given up on him, and it’s only a matter of time before he dies in a spectacular, catastrophic bang. His only hope is an exiled wizard who lives in seclusion—and is rumored to have lost his mind.

The years alone on his hilltop estate have not been good for Castiel Novak. After the magical accident that disfigured him and nearly destroyed the village, he drifts through his days, a wraith trapped in memories and depression. Until a stricken young man collapses on his driveway, one who claims Castiel is his last chance. For the first time in fifteen years, Castiel must make a choice—leave this wild mage to his fate or take him in and try to teach him, which may kill them both. The old Castiel, brash and commanding, wouldn’t have hesitated. Castiel the exile isn’t sure he can find the energy to try.

A Demon Like Him by EllenOfOz

Dean Winchester doesn’t want to be a warlock. The idea of working in a lab, channeling demonic magic into enchanted batteries is not what he wants to do with his life, but it’s a dangerous opinion to have—his father was a powerful and well-connected warlock, and Dean is expected to follow the family tradition.

His only way out is to fail the demon summoning class—failure means expulsion from the Warlock College. Despite Dean’s best efforts to fumble the summoning, it works. Although not the way anyone expects.

Dean’s demon, Castiel, is an incubus, but also a powerful mage on a mission to rebalance the magic that is being stripped from Demonside by warlocks.

Dean must choose: fail out of his final exam and turn his back on becoming a warlock, or help Castiel and graduate. But he doesn’t count on how hot the incubus is, or how close they have become in just a few days.

A Working Relationship by fangirlingtodeath513

The homes that Castiel Novak designs for Angelic Houses are to die for. They’re pristine, perfectly designed and organized, and they’ve caused more than a few bidding wars. It’s the perfect job—he’s organized, good with math, and he’s able to pick up on design trends relatively quickly. The only thing that isn’t perfect? His obnoxious older brother, Luke. Castiel’s been vying for a position on a flipping team for years now, but Luke has never even considered it. When a lecherous gossip reporter overhears an argument, they receive an offer they can’t refuse.

They’re invited to compete on Flip Off, a competition where two people flip houses and compete for the highest profit. Castiel wants the leverage a win would bring him, but he also wants to prove himself. Enter Dean Winchester, a contractor with his own team and one that’s blissfully unconnected to Angelic Houses, allowing Castiel to prove himself without any help from the family company.

The undeniable attraction between them certainly doesn’t help matters, but Castiel is resolute in his decision to make a move only after they’ve finished working together. At least, that had been his plan until Dean made him an offer he simply couldn’t refuse.

Crashing In by followyourenergy

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Make Me Believe by GhoulsnHalos

Ten years ago, Castiel Novak’s stepfather disowned him, taking from him his place as hereditary heir to the head of the Hunter and Warrior Guild. Now, he’s a self-made, and celebrated, master gem and metal smith. Castiel doesn’t believe that the God’s decide your soulmate. Until he designs what can only be a gift fit for his soul mate, who in contradiction to the etiquette, if not the laws of Neffroen, must be a man.

Dean Winchester is convinced that he is a lowly, dumbass, no magic hunter who couldn’t possibly be on the same social scale as a Novak. So, why is it when he spots the jewelled torc in Castiel’s shop, Dean develops an obsession over the neckpiece and its creator? It can't be anything to do with the will of the Gods, no matter what anyone says, because that's baloney and Dean's not into men.

When Castiel’s long-lost brother turns up and suggests he ought to challenge their stepfather and that Dean is destined to help Castiel rule the clan, Castiel takes some convincing. The real problem is Dean. Can Castiel with the help of family and friends convince Dean of his place by Castiel’s side? Can Dean play the part everyone expects of him to help Castiel regain his rightful place in society?

Shielded Heart by JuniperJones

Arthos, the Infinite City, is a place of alien wonders and indescribable beauty—and, most importantly for Dean, it’s also halfway across the universe from his abusive ex-fiancé. He came to the city desperate for a fresh start, but he finds himself downtrodden on a world of aloof alien beings with little hope of finding his place—and a good chance of being kidnapped or killed before he can even settle in.

At least until he is saved by an irresistible alien with piercing eyes and a seductive smile.

Castiel is the living embodiment of temptation, and he makes no effort to disguise his desire for Dean. But when his past threatens to drag Dean into a dangerous underworld, Dean discovers Castiel isn’t who he claims to be. After enduring so much suffering, can Dean bear to take a leap of faith with this mysterious alien? Can he trust Castiel with not only his life, but his heart?

Stumble and Fall by Kitmistry

Castiel was raised to do one thing: serve his country, whether that was fighting a war or becoming an expert spy. But when his lover is charged with treason and executed Castiel defects. He has evidence that can destroy the KGB’s entire spy ring in New Mexico, he has names of scientists involved with atomic weapons who send information to the Soviets, and he won’t stop until he has revenge.

Putting all his trust in the Americans, Castiel finds himself under the protection of U.S. Marshal Dean Winchester, who is too cocky and attractive for his own good, but at least seems to know what he’s doing.

When a routine transfer to a safehouse goes horribly wrong, Castiel and Dean narrowly escape with their lives. With the Marshals compromised and Castiel being framed for murder, he and Dean are on the run from KGB and law enforcement alike. They have no one to trust except each other, and nowhere to go that their enemies can’t reach.

The Shots We Don’t Take by MandalaRose

Still nursing the tatters of a broken heart and trying desperately to stave off the terror of his impending graduation, college senior Cas Novak decides it’s time to blow off a little steam. Not just any hook-up will do, however. The last thing Cas needs right now is a distraction. On the lookout for someone he can enjoy a steamy night of passion with before leaving them behind entirely, Cas thinks he’s found exactly what he needs in cocky university hockey star and well-known playboy Dean Winchester.

Dean is gorgeous, doesn’t date, and is the singular most infuriating person Cas has ever met. He’s the perfect one night stand...that is, until Dean decides he wants an instant replay of what was supposed to be a one-time event. Will Cas’ offer of friends, sans benefits, convince the arrogant love ’em and leave ’em hockey defenseman to find an easier score? Or will Dean wear down Cas’ defenses and lure the sexy nerd in the dorky trenchcoat back to his bed?

Bullets Over the Bayou (fic by mattzerella_sticks, art by dontbelasagnax)

Everyone wants Castiel Novak to quit the force, including Castiel. But he stays on despite the toxic work environment he’s surrounded by. Still believing he can do some good despite the many lines of red tape impeding him. Luckily, a pair of scissors by the name of Dean Winchester drops into his hands, and he finally feels like he can do some good.

Dean Winchester thought he would be in New Orleans for a day or two. Identify the body of his deadbeat father and then move on. No one knows he’s here. His mother and brother are blissfully unaware of the danger his father roped him into. With a parting gift of a journal, delivered to him the same day he received word about his father, Dean has become the target of a group of people who want him dead. The same people who killed his father.

Racing against the clock, can Dean and Castiel figure out what is so important about John Winchester’s journal that someone would kill for it?

Masquerade by noxsoulmate

It had begun as such a good plan; one that benefitted them both. And masquerading as Castiel Krushnic's boyfriend during the weeks of balls, galas, and charity events certainly was no hardship. With the impending end of their arrangement, though, Dean Winchester must admit that behind the mask of an aloof CEO lies a man he could fall in love with. Or maybe, he already has…

The Medium by raths_kitten

Detective Dean Winchester hates it when his Chief sends a medium to consult on his cases. But this time, the murder is closely linked to Castiel’s world and they both need to work together to solve it.

Any Semblance of Touch (fic by saltnhalo, art by c-kaeru)

1925, New York.

Dean Winchester’s life’s work is protecting the world from the supernatural relics that could destroy it. When an amulet with the power to control the tides is shipped to New York, he must intercept it before it can be used to devastating effects. This time, in order to succeed, he needs a powerful psychometric… and the only one available has sworn off the magical world altogether.

Castiel Novak’s gift comes with great risk. To protect himself, he’s become a recluse, redirecting his magic into museum research. But with the city’s fate hanging in the balance, and faced with the power of Dean’s charm and persuasion…

He can’t force himself to say no.

The Love of a Righteous Man by SargentMom573

Five years ago, Captain Dean Winchester defied his father, Senator John Winchester. With his brother Sam, and his spaceship Impala, Dean found his place among a ragtag fleet of pirates and smugglers. Their latest mission left him with a price on his head and a scar on his heart. When a surprise attack separated him from Sam and revealed a Sith weapon, he would do whatever it took to bring his brother back – even sacrifice his own happiness.

After Emperor Michael’s death broke the psychic link between them, Emperor’s Hand Castiel Novak spent years drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a barrel. Mostly sober, three years ago he found a new purpose as the Impala’s Chief Medical Officer, and Sam Winchester’s guide in the Force. And a good friend in the Impala’s gruff but kind Captain.

Dean and Castiel must work together to bring Sam home alive. But when Castiel’s last mission is exposed, will Castiel complete it and destroy any hopes Dean had for a family? Will Dean forgive Cas’ horrific purpose before it is too late? And give them both what they really want — the love of a righteous man.

SKID by spnsmile

Dean Winchester swore off love after getting dumped and fired from his job the same day. Badly drunk, he ended up balcony-hopping until a pair of hands snatched him inside a darkened room. But it's no hero, it's someone with deep voice whispering threats with a gun pointed at his back. Dean’s too drunk to deal with life but one good look at his hot assailant plus enough beer sold him to his accursed fate. The next morning, he found himself engaged to the most notorious leader of a powerful clan, Castiel Novak.

Married life in the compound for a month was not as blissful so when he could, Dean fought for that freedom. Castiel relented and as Dean tried to put the pieces of his normal life together, getting a bike messenger job and dealing with pain in the ass clients, he now also needs to deal with the dangerous presence of his very jealous and very protective husband watching over him.

Is his life ever going to get back to normal?

#2020 masterpost #destielharlequinchallenge #destiel harlequin challenge #destiel fanart #destiel fanfic #destiel

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murderousginger · 4 years ago

Text

Where is your boy tonight?

John Shelby x Russian Maid

Warnings: Alcohol. Drugs. Cussing. Explicit. It’s a Russian orgy party. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word Count: 3,432

Note: ... Well this went raunchy fast. I’m not a smut writer... so like... I’m sorry ahead of time. I’m posting this before I lose my nerve. In other news, I see you John girls, and I absolutely adore you. I’ll be working on prompts as quickly as I can. <3

"Remember ladies,"

Tatiana Patrovna strutted around the room of half dressed women in her lace lingerie, running her fingers along one maid's back as she bent over to put on stockings, across another maid's arm as she straightened her skirts, looking over each and every woman. Each woman had to be perfect. The princess resembled a general overlooking her troops before war. In a way, Anna supposed she was.

"These men don't know Russian women. They think women are soft. Vulnerable."

Tatiana's wild eyes danced along every strap, every lace garment, every painted face in front of her. The duchess had hired the best whores as maids, and paid them well when the entire family left Russia to come to England.

The staff already knew what was expected of them. The family was rich, bored. Bored Russian royalty was dangerous. The staff sated every whim. England would have crumbled by now if not, Anna mused as she watched Tatiana flit between each girl. She was already bored of this pep talk.

"Be who they want you to be," Tatiana's wide eyes shone dark as they darted around the room. "But when they cry in passion, learn from them. Then bring it to me."

Tonight was not a regular night. Three brothers were to join the festivities and every woman was to be on guard. Men often talked when their balls were empty and the lights were low. Men told secrets they wouldn't admit under torture. Men were weak that way.

Anna was just another maid. Another whore brought over from the old country, here to entertain the wild family and whomever else she was instructed to. She had been with them for years, watching the parties grow wilder with each passing phase.

In England, the family no longer seemed bored. Instead, they seemed like they could no longer return to what society would deem a normal life. Too many orgies, too many nights with a gun to their head laughing and hoping to find the correct chamber, too often feeling the rush of adrenaline and subsequent crash of psyche that came with the roaring highs of the drugs and sex. They were unhinged, mad with power, and she had decided long ago that she was fine with watching it play out.

Anna's dark hair and features that were common back home held a sense of wrongness in England. They stuck out against those that looked carefully enough. So far she has only been allowed outside of the house once, to get food from the market. Her dark eyes had watched all of the England common folk bustle about with curiosity. How did they live in comparison?

She had eyed a man with a fruit stand, watching him carefully as she traced over the options with her lithe fingers. He had nodded good morning to her and she smiled, lifting an apple from the stand and taking a large bite. She rolled the sweet fruit over her tongue as she decided to play with him. Why? Because why not.

He started to tell her the price of the apple, and she gulped the bite down, playfully spreading the apple juices that ran down her hand along her exposed throat. Now it was his turn to gulp.

She came back from the market late, with a bag of apples that she did not pay for and the knowledge that English men were far easier than she had imagined.

"Anna," Tatiana snapped, and she jerked her head out of her daydreams. "What did I say?"

Anna assessed the woman in front of her as she hiked her leg onto a chair to put her stockings on. She did not bother to have them perfect; they wouldn't be on long anyway. Tatiana watched her with cold eyes as she stepped in between her legs, her fingers dancing along Anna's knee and up the stocking to her inner thigh. Her fingers lazily played with the fabric between her legs as she waited for an answer.

"You want us to fuck the three Englishmen within an inch of their lives, so they are ruined from their wives and tell us every boring secret they have," Anna sounded, completely ignoring the cool fingers that traced her.

"No."

Tatiana teasing fingers swatted her. Anna flinched as the princess turned away and walked into the middle of the room.

"I said, the leader, the one that goes by Thomas, is mine."

Tatiana glared at every woman in the room, waiting for defiance. None spoke up.

"The other two, do whatever they want," she waved away the harshness she had just possessed. "What might blow their mind could be silly to you. Do it anyway, and do it with ferver."

A round of mumbled agreements echoed. The princess nodded, more to herself than the girls, and left without another word. The men were coming, and she had to get ready herself.

Anna finished putting on her maid skirt and top and sat in the seat, waiting as the other maids got ready and gossiped among themselves.

What could be so interesting about three Englishmen?

----

The Englishmen came through the doors with the princess and the duchess hours into when the party began. Murmurs between help warned that they had already been welcomed with mind games; the two royal women had stripped the brothers down to assess them, the men tearing buttons from shirts like wild animals. One or two maids had been given the shirts to mend already.

Russian men had already started on vodka, cocaine, and women that morning. The party had already risen to the haze of fucking in the open, half naked women parading around as they like by the time the three Shelbys eyed the room.

Anna had already entertained some of the men, but easily sloughed off their advances as the newcomers arrived. She had even managed to keep her maid outfit on. The stockings, however, had been long tossed into the fireplace.

She watched the men, bug-eyed by the general activities of the den.

"Fucking hell, Tommy," one breathed as he ran his hand along his neck.

"Remember, play nice," the dark haired one said, clear blue eyes coldly looking around.

Anna held her breath for the few seconds his eyes had looked at her. They were so calculating. That had to be the one Tatiana was after.

"Sit with me, Tommy," Tatiana simpered, taking the dark haired man's hand and leading him to a couch.

Another maid appeared beside the older looking brother with the mustache, leading him toward a chair. She brought him his own bottle of vodka. The last brother continued looking around the room, giggling uncomfortably but looking at everything like it was Christmas morning.

Anna slipped past the duchess, who took her place by the fireplace to watch, and picked up an almost full bottle of vodka from a bucket of ice that sat beside one of the couches with an maid and a Russian man fucking slowly. She ran her hand along the Shelby brother's bicep and squeezed, a coy smile across her lips as he whipped his head around to see who had approached him.

"Would you like some company? Vodka?" Anna said, lilting her accent at him.

His eyes looked over her outfit as she handed him the bottle of liquor.

"Yuh," he said stiffly, eyes not leaving her hem as he cleared his throat, "sure. I was just about to ask those two men if I could enter their poker game."

"Then you will need me," Anna said as she wrapped her arm around his and led him to the table. "It is strip poker. The girls undress as you play."

"I didn't realize," he said, looking over the two bearded men sitting at the table with half dressed women on their laps. "Name's John. Yours?"

Anna pulled the chair out for John, motioning for him to sit. As he did, she made herself comfortable sitting on his lap, moving his arm to her waist.

"He wants to play poker with you," she said to the men in Russian. "Deal him in. Let him win."

The men laughed amongst themselves and complied, throwing their cards in the center to start a new game. The women chittered on their laps but made no move to put clothing back on. Anna leaned against John, twisting to put her hand on his chest and her mouth to his ear.

"They're starting a new game for you now," she said, feeling him gulp as her lips brushed his ear. "And you may call me whatever you like, John. Who do you want me to be?"

Anna trailed a finger along his neck as she leaned away to look him in the eye. John's blue eyes were wide and watching the table where his cards lay. With a deep breath he met her dark eyes with his bright blue ones.

"Let's start with your name, yeah?" A playful smirk appeared on his face as his grip tightened on her waist. "And we'll go from there."

"Anna," she deftly moved his hand from her waist to her thigh along the hem of her short skirt as she leaned forward to pick up his cards and handed them to him. "Better drink to catch up. The men don't like sober players."

"Fucking hell," he breathed, handing the cards back to her and picking up the bottle he had sat beside his chair.

He guzzled it down and the men made cheering noises, squeezing their women to their laps. One woman was completely topless, only her skirt and panties on while the man bounced her on his knee to watch her tits jiggle. The other woman had only her top and panties on, but her man had become impatient and was groping through her clothing as she giggled.

Anna innocently shifted in his lap, trying to tempt John as he drank nearly a third of the bottle. His hand squeezed her thigh as a warning and she laughed as he set the bottle down.

"That enough for you fucks?" He growled as he took his cards roughly from Anna's hands. "Let's play."

Anna would move occasionally in his lap, but used the game to watch the room. To watch the other brothers.

"I sewed your buttons back on," the maid said as she ran her hands across the older brother's chest, "I wanted to make sure I did a good job."

Arthur took a swig of the bottle of vodka in his hand as he watched her hesitantly.

"You did a good job," he breathed.

She lifted a button up, circling it in her fingers deftly.

"No, I did not."

The maid took the older his hand and guided him up from his chair and out of the room. Anna smirked.

The other one, Tommy, the leader, was leaned on a couch, Tatiana laying against him under his arm. She looked bored.

"Why do you play games with people with no benefit to you?" Tommy asked, annoyance across his face as he took another drink from his glass.

"In Russia because we were bored," Tatiana said succinctly. "In England because we don't know how to stop."

Anna moved on, ignoring the rest of the conversation to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She looked back to the table as John cheered, his arm squeezing her closer as he threw his cards at the table.

"We won, Anna," he cheered again as she looked to the two sullen Russians for confirmation.

"That means," she said, softly pressing his arm to release her, "that I no longer need my top."

Anna grabbed the fabric and lifted it above her head, throwing it to the topless girl on the other side of the table with a giggle. John's hand stilled on her thigh as he leaned back with a frown.

"When you win here," Anna said, twisting in his arms to face him, "your whore loses clothes, not your opponents."

His ears turned a light pink as she shimmied at him with a laugh, her head thrown back.

"There's rarely a game that doesn't end in fucking."

John's eyes were fixed on her, and she gave a throaty chuckle as his hand grabbed blindly for the bottle at the floor. He was attracted to her, at least. The pressure in his pants would not lie about that. He took another large gulp of vodka as the cards were dealt again.

Anna watched as one of the men, the one with the girl who only had panties and a shirt on, began whispering in the girl's ear. She nodded, stood up and turned around to kneel before him and undo his pants.

She looked back at John, who tried to ignore the scene in front of him as he picked up his cards, but his eyes wandered to her bobbing head.

A quick sweep of the room told Anna that Tommy and Tatiana were also gone. These brothers are shy, she noted.

The Russian men began muttering as John threw his hand at the table.

"Won again," he said and looked at the Russian who muttered in front of him, his hands grabbed the back of the woman's bobbing head to bare her down on him as he gritted his teeth. Anna smiled, earning John's gaze that couldn't help but flicker to her chest before he met her eyes again.

"Lucky for you," she said as she stood in front of him, topless with her hands at the waist of her skirt. "I have no underwear."

She stepped out of the skirt and stepped closer to sit on his knee. His eyes were wide and his mouth slack as she straddled his leg facing him. She playfully grinded against his thigh, letting his eyes be glued to the motion, before she leaned back and took his new cards from the table. She stretched, watching his gaze travel up her naked body as she fanned his cards in front of her face to hide her smile. He was too easily shocked.

"What happens if I win again?" He panted, licking his lips as he reached for the cards.

Anna pulled them away from his reach and pushed herself up his thigh, twisting so their cheeks touched as she showed him his cards.

"You, my Englishman," Anna said breathily into his ear. "Win all three of us, or whoever you wish. I can promise you, you want me."

John's eyes started to dilate as his mouth parted.

"Oh."

The game, -- what little it could be called that -- was short lived. One man was completely engrossed in the lips around his cock, the other taken to pinching his maid's nipples until she screamed as she bounced on his knee, and John was uncomfortably frozen under Anna as she writhed on his thigh and moaned into his ear, completely breaking the concentration he was trying so hard to have on the card game.

When the men finally threw all their cards down, John turned pale when the other men grumbled again and quickly became engrossed with their women.

Anna looked over her shoulder to the cards on the table and smiled a Cheshire cat grin.

"You won."

Before he could answer, she lifted herself from his soaked pant leg and grabbed his chin. He stood, meeting her eyes as she led him backwards, blindly reaching behind her for the door to a side den she knew was there.

"You seem to be the type to want privacy," Anna purred. "Should I call the others?"

"No, no," John breathed, looking into her black eyes.

"As I thought," she said and opened the door and led him in. She let go of his face as he stepped through the threshold.

John took a deep breath as he turned and closed the door before he turned back to her. She was still so close, he went to take a step back and hit the door.

"Look, I--"

"Tell me what you like," she whispered as she pressed against him.

"Have a wife, Esme--"

"She doesn't have to know," she said, leaning to run her tongue along the shell of his ear, "unless she likes to know about these things."

"No, she's just had a child--" he stuttered, trying to grab at Anna's forearms and push her back. Just a little space. To breathe. She was so close.

"So you've been without, poor man," she pouted mockingly, pressing against his hold. "Let me make it better. Do you love this wife? Do I resemble her?"

"Well you're both dark haired--"

"Do you love her?" Anna's eyes flashed as she smiled, grabbing his hand and pressing it toward her neck. "Do you hate her? Have you ever just wanted to squeeze the life--"

"Stop!" He bellowed as he pushed her back. He stomped past her, near the fireplace in the room, as he paced, muttering to himself and rubbing his face with his hands.

Anna heard "fucking Russians" and "Tommy said they were fucking insane" mixed in with the rumblings, his tone frantic. He was coming undone at the seams, she thought, too much pressure and he'll break -- but not how Tatiana wants him to.

She rushed to him, hushing him as she stopped his pacing.

"That's enough, John," she soothed, his eyes wildly looking around the room at anything but her. "I'm only here to make you happy. What will make you happy, hmm?"

"Just let me fucking breathe, woman," he snapped as he stormed away from her.

"Alright," Anna said as she crossed her arms and looked around the room. She shuffled in place uneasily, rubbing her arms as she began to notice the chill of the room.

"Oh for fucks sake," he muttered, looking at her and then darting his eyes away as he took his jacket off. "Here, wear this, come to the fire. You must be freezing prancing around like that, yeah?"

She hesitantly came forward and allowed John to drape his jacket across her shoulders before she murmured a thanks and wrapped it tighter.

After a few moments of silence, Anna dared to speak.

"What now, then?"

John exhaled shakily, scratching his neck and stealing a sideways look at the Russian in his coat.

"They expect you to fuck me, don't they?" He whispered. Anna hesitantly nodded, earning a nod in return as John ran his hand over his face.

"And my brothers will never let me hear the end of it if I don't," he mumbled.

"Do you… not like girls?" Anna said slowly. "I can call in one of the men--"

"God no," John laughed. "I just… it don't feel right…"

Anna shifted.

"Is it me?"

John's eyes softened as he looked at her and smiled.

"You're bloody gorgeous, darling," his smile turned lopsided. "It's not that."

Silence filled the air again. John exhaled.

"How about this," he said, his hands pushing the air down to the floor. "How about we walk out there and say we did. I'll tell them all that you sucked the soul out of me cock with those lips of yours, and you can tell your princess I cried like a little baby, or whatever will make her happy, yeah?"

Anna nodded.

"We'll go out there, you can continue to be my girl for the night, and no one knows any different. Keep my coat till the morning if you like."

"Alright, John."

His face brightened and he held out his arm. Anna stepped forward and slid under it, smiling at the odd man at her side.

"Let's go back, then."

----

"The old one," the maid said as she stood beside Anna as Tatiana ate breakfast at the table, "Arthur. He was hesitant but bred me like a dog. I think he whimpered a few times, but it only made him rougher."

Tatiana hummed as she drank her tea.

"And the other?"

"The youngest one is named John," Anna said with a yawn.

He refused to fuck me because he loves his wife, Esme, and they recently had a child. One of many. He was polite and attracted but wouldn't budge.

"What about him?" Tatiana snapped. "Out with it."

Anna frowned.

"He was a fast lay," she said. "He came in my mouth after two strokes. He was so spent he never touched me after. He cries when he cums."

"How boring," Tatiana laughed. "I suppose I did save the best for myself."

"Yes, princess," the maids droned. They were dismissed with a wave.

#john shelby #tommy shelby #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby #tatiana petrovna #tatiana petrovna x tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic

175 notes · View notes

joontella · 4 years ago

Text

achromatic.

Yandere!Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Word Count: 11.1k

Genre(s): Angst, Slight Fluff, (HORRIBLY WRITTEN) Smut

Trigger Warning(s): Mentions of religion or lack thereof, blood, murder, idk how the human body works, (unknown) consumption of blood, manipulation, stalking, male masturbation (again, horribly written), Namjoon is an asshole, and musical terms because i play music rip, minor character death, slight gore. it gets really shitty towards the end. i’m sorry

Merry Merry! It’s Peppermint! Your gift is finally here, @exhausted-joy! I’m sorry for the wait. I had to make sure that it was perfect. This is my first time doing this, and I really wanted to give it my all. Please forgive me, and thank you for putting up with my antics in the server. I hope you enjoy it!

I also want to thank Saniya (@smeraldos-blog), Mari (@joheun-saram), Hannah (@spicykoreantatertots), Ley (@pars-ley), Avery (@ksmuttherapy), and everyone else who tolerated and/or helped me out! I love you all and thank you so much for the help and support! I’m so happy to have met you all!

ach·ro·mat·ic /akrəˈmadik/

adjective

without color.

“Damn. There goes my chance of starting my winter break with a passing grade.” One woman groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about? You have a solid ‘C’! I’m literally failing everything!” Her friend responded, as her arms waved in a cartoonish rendition of exasperation. “And whose fault is that?” “Not mine! This semester was nothing but a months-long depressive episode. How could I focus with everything that’s going on?”

He so desperately wishes that they would shut up, or at the very least, take their obnoxiously loud conversation elsewhere. Namjoon twirled the ink pen in his hand with a practiced precision only years of being hunched over paperwork could provide. However, those were nothing but pipe dreams as the two students turned their attention over to him. “There’s Kim Namjoon! He’s had the top spot for years now, way before he was enrolled here.” One began babbling quite loudly whilst pointing to the man in question. “I bet he came out of the womb with high marks. I heard that he scored in the 99th percentile for his newborn screening tests.” The other swooned in response to her own musings.

Obviously, these two were much more idiotic than he had originally thought. It didn’t take an expert to read his body language: the way that he twirled his pen faster, as if that could speed up the agonizing conversation he was being forced to bear witness to; the way his jaw clenched so tightly that it could easily break a metal wire; and the position his shoulders held, resembling an animal coiling in preparation to strike or flee. He pleaded to gods he didn’t even believe in for the duo to be quickly eradicated with a swift strike of lightning. According to the calculations he made swiftly in his head, the chances of something like that happening were infinitesimally small. How unfortunate.

Deciding that the best course of action to take would be to leave the two neanderthals to their devices, Namjoon did just that. He quickly snapped his book shut with one hand and a loud, meaningful clap as the pages suddenly collided with each other. If that didn’t make the nuisances jump in surprise, his words would.

“Although I’m a source of inspiration and wonder to many, it’s degrading to hear someone so openly refer to me in a way that one would to an exotic zoo animal,” He began. Namjoon’s tone was cool and even, carrying an air of regality all the while retaining a bitter edge of contempt and disdain for both the conversation and the mere existence of the two original party members.

Finally, the two felt the brunt of the consequences their crimes on Namjoon’s ears had to offer. They both visibly wilted, reminding the tall man of his mother’s daisies being roasted and withering under the dry summer heat. Normally, this would have been more than enough to diffuse the situation and lift him of his auditory burden. However, his heart ached for more. His brain so desperately yearned for more stimulation and a rush of dopamine.

He decided to twist the knife, so to speak.

“Also, you too could rise to the top.” Namjoon said as he began to turn away.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the two wilted flowers gain new life and their faces brighten with newfound hope. The loudest of the two even had the audacity to whimper a pathetically optimistic, “Really?”

Twist. Twist. Twist!

“Of course~.” Namjoon purred, deciding to turn to face his victims’ satisfying demise. His heart threatened to beat in double time in anticipation.

Although their anxiously awaiting smiles made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny the mirth swirling alongside the disgust in his belly.

“First off, instead of blaming your inadequacies solely on the tumultuous events of this year, take responsibility for your shortcomings. Only children avoid blaming themselves.”

He could hear the glass shattering as their faces fell in a tandem that most would find heartbreaking. He found it utterly amusing. Now, he would take his leave. After receiving the reaction he desired and more, Namjoon wanted nothing more than to leave the duo to stew in their humiliation. Yet, one last thing lingered. He had yet to land the finishing blow that would ensure that he wouldn’t be bothered by these two pieces of scum ever again.

Twist. Twist! TWIST!

“Before I forget, avoid talking so loudly. As you may or may not have noticed, I was trying to study. You know, one of the things that facilitates good grades? I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but your incessant bantering made it increasingly difficult to do so. Might I suggest that you follow my example and do the same? Maybe then, one day, you could take my place at the top.”

Namjoon wasn’t even facing them anymore. His back was to the two women, further solidifying his dismissal of them. With a simple and curt wave of his hand, he simply uttered,

“Ladies.”

And he was on his way.

“Exam results will be posted this afternoon. I trust that you all scored high enough marks to keep our university in high regard.” Your professor droned from the front of the lecture hall. “I know that many of you despise the fact that a standardized test is still administered in college, but so far, it is the only way to ensure that Mugunghwa National Academy is churning out bright students worthy enough to contribute to society!”

The students in question couldn’t care less about their scores or the school’s prestige. All they were worried about was getting the hell out of there after two hours of examination and stifling silence. They all stood from their seats and slung their bags across their bodies. A disgruntled murmur rang throughout. Quite frankly, you were no different.

As you hugged your notebook close to your body, your professor stopped you as you reached the lecture hall door.

“Ah, Miss (L/N). A word, please.”

Surprised, you let out a soft, “Sure.” and walked over to the podium where your professor started to neatly stack and organize his papers.

“As you know, Miss (L/N), you are one of the two best students we’ve had at this academy recently.”

You shifted your weight awkwardly at the sudden praise. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you began to speak. “I mean, I guess? I wouldn’t go that far, but I suppose that records and the numbers do suggest that I’m performing quite well.” Your professor scowled at your response. You were a bright young woman. You deserved to flaunt it and soak up the praise every once in a while, right? He folded his arms and sighed deeply causing your brain to go into overdrive on how you could rectify the situation. “While pride does come short of a fall, you should learn to take compliments when they’re given, (Y/N). I promise you that you won’t become an egomaniac anytime soon as a result.” He said gently, causing your nerves to subside. Right. Maybe you should just accept compliments. A little self esteem boost never hurt anybody, right? “Thank you, professor, but may I ask why you’re telling me this?” You asked, trying to move the conversation along as politely as you could. You had an hour before you were due to go to the college’s radio station and prepare for this evening’s broadcast. Hopefully, your professor would get to the point so you could quickly grab a bite to eat before you started airing.

“Oh yes, of course! I’m sorry! I said all this to tell you that I have your exam results already. Seeing as how you are the brightest in your class, you finished early, giving me enough time to grade yours while your peers were working. I think that you’ll find the results to your liking, Miss (L/N).” He grinned, handing you a white manila envelope with the school’s insignia printed on the front.

You quirked a brow and opened it. You were then greeted by the name of the school, its motto, and yet another print of the school emblem on the header. Your (E/C) eyes scanned the page until you found what you were looking for:

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: (𝑳/𝑵), (𝒀/𝑵)

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒎

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 98/100

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌:

1 𝒐𝒇 300

You stood there, dumbfounded. The paper you once held gingerly and timidly was wrinkling and threatening to tear under your now iron grip. You were now number one. Somehow, some way, you managed to best Kim Namjoon. Mugunghwa’s already carefully balanced and fragile ecosystem was crumbling around you. What have you done?

“I take it that you’re in shock. I’ll leave you alone to celebrate.” Your professor said smoothly as he slung his coat over his shoulder. “Congratulations, (Y/N). Please enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Uh huh… Will do…” You uttered dumbly.

Mugunghwa National Academy ran on strict rules, but most of them were unspoken. For the sake of your sanity and that of the rest of the student body (and let’s face it, staff, too), you intended to follow those sacred and silent rules to the letter.

Rule Number One: Don’t look in the janitor’s closet near the athletics facilities. You may not come out the same way as you came in.

Rule Number Two: If the cafeteria serves meatloaf, avoid it at all costs. Only eat it if you want to get sick and purposely miss class.

Rule Number Three: Kim Namjoon is the best at everything. He is to be number one until Hell freezes over.

Rule Number Four: In order to keep peace and balance between the nations, (Y/N) (L/N) must always come in second. This is the natural order of things.

You were content with being in second place. To be frank, you preferred to leave the pomp and circumstance of being the top dog to Namjoon. He was more equipped to bear the burden, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like your future career was depending on you being the best. You could skate by with a silver medal and leave Namjoon with the gold. You preferred the look of silver, anyway.

Now look at what you've done. There’s no doubt that the records have been updated by now. Your professor did grade yours early, and it’s reasonable to assume that Namjoon’s was as well. You’d inadvertently torn a hole in the gossamer fabric that was Mugunghwa National Academy. With one exam, you signed the collective death certificate of every other person besides Kim Namjoon himself.

May God have mercy on your wretched soul.

“Young Master, your father would like to have a word with you in his study.” The head butler of the Kim mansion stated simply.

For the second time that day, Namjoon clenched his jaw tightly. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to the older gentleman who was automatically waiting at his side to collect the article of clothing. He hadn’t even gotten through the door and already his father wanted to speak with him. This didn’t bode well.

“Seokjin, did he mention why he’d want to see me?” Namjoon asked dryly. Seokjin simply shook his head and hung his coat on the nearby rack.

“He only mentioned that it was urgent, so I suggest that it would be in your best interest to make it there expeditiously.”

This certainly did not bode well. Kim Joonho was a man of few words. Most would say that he’s the very definition of “actions speak louder than words”. Whenever the CEO of Kim Industries did something, people watched in equal parts starstruck awe and fear. However, when the CEO of Kim Industries deemed something important enough to speak on, there was no choice in the matter. You either listened intently or you perished in more ways than one. This was no different for Joonho’s family. In fact, he was worse to them. Working under the guise of caring for his family, Joonho was more stoic to his wife and children.

Regardless of his debatably righteous intentions, it sent the Kim family into delicately managed dysfunction. Simply put, Kim Joonho never spoke to Namjoon out of wishing to connect with his son on a more personal level. Namjoon was the next heir to Kim Industries. Being his son was an unfortunate side effect.

“Sir, I know that I did implore you to hurry, but-”

“What?” Namjoon growled. His nerves were shot to shit today. Anything that impeded his meeting with his father and his goal to quickly get it over with was met with hostility.

Seeming to understand this, Seokjin cleared his throat and motioned a gloved hand towards the mansion’s threshold.

“You know better than to walk in the house with your shoes still on,” The Kim butler began smoothly as he made his way over to Namjoon to collect his shoes. “I do understand that you are upset, but you shouldn’t let your emotions cloud your judgement so drastically that you forget such basic cultural conventions.”

Namjoon sighed sharply and bit back a retort that was bubbling in his throat. Arguing with Seokjin was pointless. As per usual, he was correct. Engaging in such petty conflicts would only worsen things.

“Right. I suppose I was quite hasty. Thank you.” Namjoon sighed whilst peeling off his shoes.

“I do believe that an apology is in order, Young Master.”

Namjoon was already halfway across the foyer, about to ascend the grand staircase leading to the upper floors when Seokjin’s cheeky remark reached his ears. He felt his blood begin to simmer in his veins and his muscles stiffen.

“The fact that I haven’t fired you by now and ruined any chances of you gaining any further employment should be enough of an apology. You’re treading on thin ice, Seokjin. Remember your place in this world.”

With that, he continued his journey to the final boss room within the Kim family mansion: his father’s study. The last he heard of Seokjin was a sly chuckle and the clicking of his polished leather shoes against the floor. Staff were not guests. Therefore, they were not allowed the privilege of removing their shoes. They were expendable. They needn’t get too comfortable.

Despite how much he detested it, Namjoon couldn’t deny that cold chill of anxiety that frosted his entire body. His father never wanted to talk to him. Ever. He could count on his hands the times that Joonho requested his presence. He could count on only one hand how many times Joonho requested his presence to celebrate his son’s successes. Their relationship was solely professional. There was no love to be found, no matter how hard you read between the lines. Even in as high of a position as Namjoon is in, he is still subservient to his father.

That’s the natural order of things.

“Come in, Namjoon.” Joonho’s voice rang from behind the large mahogany doors.

Almost cartoonishly, the hinges squeaked like Namjoon was uncovering the entrance to a haunted crypt. Namjoon decided long ago that was an eerily apt way of describing his father’s study.

Naturally, Namjoon obeyed his father and entered the room. Dead center, there sat Kim Joonho on his throne. Sitting with perfect posture behind the large oak desk, Joonho stared his son down with cold eyes filled with disdain. How Namjoon desperately wished he could gouge them out with his father’s prized letter opener.

“Don’t waste my time. Have a seat. I don’t have all day.” Joonho snapped.

“Of course. How are you today, father?”

The CEO’s eyes narrowed at his son’s inquiry. “Spare me the niceties, boy. Sit down. We have business to discuss.”

Before Namjoon could interject, Joonho was already reaching into a drawer and produced a white manila envelope. Upon closer inspection, one could see Mugunghwa National Academy’s insignia emblazoned on the front. Once Namjoon was properly seated, he reached out and grabbed the parcel.

“May I ask what this is?” “You may not. You have eyes, boy. Read it for yourself.”

The frigid chill of anxiety was soon being replaced with the molten heat of fury. Some tiny part of Namjoon’s mind was concerned that he would develop a fever at the sudden and constant shifts in his body temperature. That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t afford for his health to decline. That would be another thing for his father to berate him for.

“Of course. My apologies, father.” Namjoon whispered as he undid the envelope’s fastening. Once he did so, he pulled the paper out with an air of nonchalance. Surely, it must have been another letter from the school to congratulate him on some academic achievement he didn’t even realize existed. However, in his eyes and in the eyes of his father, it was the exact opposite.

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: 𝑲𝒊𝒎, 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓(𝒔): 𝑩𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 96/100

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌: 2 𝒐𝒇 300

For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon’s world fell apart before his very eyes. Suddenly the sturdy and imposing columns holding up the large study appeared to crumble around him. The fire that crackled in the fireplace was reduced to nothing but pathetic cinders. He felt the ground split beneath his feet and his father… His father grew to a monstrous size in comparison to his surroundings, suddenly hunched over his son in preparation to strike.

“This must be some mistake! The results must have gotten mixed up! I-”

“Enough!” Joonho boomed. He swiftly slammed his hand down on his desk, successfully frightening his son into silence. “Only children avoid blaming themselves. I thought I taught you to accept responsibility! How dare you blame your inadequacies on the people who made them apparent?!”

Namjoon clenched his fists tightly in his lap and pushed down the urge to go through on his original plan of plucking his father’s eyeballs out.

“Can’t you see? Whoever graded my exam was clearly incompetent. If they had a brain stem, they would know that I am only capable of producing top-class work! Just like you should not be blamed for one measly employee’s mistake, I should not be blamed for the mistake of someone beneath me!” Namjoon exclaimed. Once he finished his spiel, he found himself standing up, but he didn’t remember willing his muscles to do so.

“This entire conversation is pointless. It’s inefficient at best and mind-numbing at its worst! For someone who values time and money more than his own family, I find it quite curious that you’re willing to waste both so frivolously.”

Now, it was Joonho’s turn to clench his jaw and his fists. Despite the utter disdain he felt for the situation, the patriarch had to admit the merit in his son’s retort. His pride would never let him express the sliver of admiration that stirred within him at Namjoon’s courageous display.

Nobody dared talk back to Kim Joonho. That was the natural order of things.

“Regardless of who’s truly at fault, find this (Y/N) (L/N). She usurped your throne, Namjoon. She deserves to be punished for her transgression.”

“Of course. She’s public enemy number one, but she won’t be number one ever again.”

With that, the young master of the Kim household turned his back on the old master and shut the door to the crypt behind him.

“Aaaaaand now, we’re back after our break!” Your co-host chirped from beside you.

The red on-air sign glowed warmly overhead, creating a sense of coziness and heat in the otherwise cold station. You wrapped your cardigan closer around you before adjusting your mic.

“And we’re about to go into our winter break soon. How fitting!” You posited, trying to match your co-host’s energy.

“That’s right! Mugunghwa exams are finally over, and the scores and ranks have already been updated for some! Care to talk about that, (Y/N)?” Taehyung, your co-host, wiggled his sharp eyebrows in his quest to prod for information.

Normally, his rectangular grin and bright eyes would warm your heart. Today, however, you wanted to punch that devilish smirk right off of him. You should have known that Tae would have suddenly caught wind of your latest academic achievement. He’s the university’s most involved (read: nosiest) student.

“Not really… But you won’t shut up until I do, so…” You sighed as you spun around in your swivel chair. Once you stopped your cycle, you scooted closer to the microphone and cleared your throat. “I got a 98 on the exam. My professor stopped me after class and told me the news.”

Not that anyone but you and the sound director, Yoongi, would see it, but Taehyung’s impish smile turned into a disappointed pout. “Ah, listen to our (Y/N). Always dodging the important questions. Such a tease!”

You shoved him gently and laughed at his comment before shaking your head. “This guy… To everyone who dreams of dating him, work with him first. You’ll see how much of a horrible person he is.”

“Yah! That’s slander! Aren’t journalists supposed to avoid that?”

“I’ll kick your ass.” You licked your lips and began to answer the original question in further detail. “Yeah, so… Anyway, I got a 98 and I guess that warranted me becoming number one…?”

Both Taehyung and Yoongi’s faces dropped. From his booth, you could see Yoongi grimace and in your peripheral, you saw Tae stiffen.

“Up next is Still With You by our resident golden boy Jeon Jungkook. We’ll be back soon. Stay tuned.”

Suddenly, the on-air sign was turned off. The song began to play and Taehyung immediately gripped your shoulders.

“You what?!” Taehyung nearly screeched. “(Y/N), do you have any idea what this means?!” “That I took Kim Namjoon’s place and sent the fragile society of Mugunghwa into ruin? Yeah, I do.” Tae blinked for a moment. “No… Although, that does make sense. That seems way more important than what I was gonna say. Huh.”

You were actually going to punch the shit out of him. “Dude, what?”

“Listen, this is your chance! You can finally get recognized as the top-tier person that you are! As long as you were under Kim’s big, goofy shadow, you were going to be pushed aside! Now you can show everyone here how cool you are!”

You felt your throat tighten. That all-too-familiar sensation of a goose egg being lodged in your esophagus rose. You were going to cry. How you desperately wished that you could view the world like Taehyung did. How you longed to see the silver lining of every situation just like he did. All you saw was destruction and despair. All you felt was guilt for damning the entire student body to some cruel fate that only Kim Namjoon could dish out.

“Tae, I love you, but you don’t fucking get it! I’m screwed! We’re all screwed! I broke two of the sacred rules of this school! Kim Namjoon must always be first! I must always be second! I just sentenced everyone to death!”

Taehyung raised a brow, as if what you were saying were the incoherent ramblings of a mad woman. “You describe my cousin like he’s some heinous demon.” Even the usually passive Yoongi had to straighten his spine and widen his eyes at this revelation.

“He’s your cousin?!”

Tae leaned back in his seat with yet another smirk. This time, you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion this specific lift of his lips held. “Isn’t the resemblance obvious? The Kim line has some strong genes. It’s been that way since the Joseon era, I’ve been told.”

Ignoring the historical implications for why such strong genes would still be present thousands of years later (assuming that Taehyung was actually serious), you hurried the conversation along. Jungkook’s silky voice had faded away a while ago, leaving the two of you with little to no time left before it was time to open the floor to callers. This was your last chance to get some useful information about Namjoon before you were dragged into what you knew was going to be a relentless storm of phone calls and incredulous screeches at the news.

Like you had said before, you’d damned everyone. Who wouldn’t want to yell at the person that had the audacity to send an entire population into ruin?

“Get to the point, Taehyung. You’re telling me that you’re related to Satan himself? And I’ve been your co-host for how long?!” You near screeched.

Tae’s ambiguous smirk was now replaced with a blank expression. “I didn’t think it mattered, (Y/N). Why does it even matter now? If there’s a bigger issue here, I think you’re dodging it.”

You froze. He was right. For as long as you knew him, Taehyung had this uncanny ability to pick people apart and leave them vulnerable in an instant. This was especially effective on you, you’ve come to realize. The funny thing was that you hadn’t realized that you were employing tactics to postpone the inevitable inundation of accusatory and furious phone calls being thrown your way. Deep down, you always hated confrontation. Until Taehyung uttered those words, you hadn’t realized how deep that hatred and aversion was ingrained.

“Damn. You’re...good… I guess I am avoiding things. Let’s just get this over with. If we hold it off any longer, things will get worse.” You muttered as you looked towards Yoongi’s booth, motioning for him to put you both back on air.

Taehyung placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and flashed his signature boxy smile. “You don’t even know what they’re going to say. Who knows? News of your latest accomplishment may have brought the (Y/N) (L/N) Official Fanclub out of hiding. I bet that there are going to be several callers professing their undying love for you!”

“Their what now?” You asked dumbly.

Taehyung placed a hand on his heart and slipped into a persona reminiscent of the male protagonist of one the many romance dramas that were plastered on television nowadays. His deep voice rumbled the soundproof padding on the walls and wrapped you in its velvety embrace.

“(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I’ve struggled with these emotions for so long, but news of your success has given me the courage to confess them. I can’t quite make heads or tails of them, but I want to explore them all with you…” Not that anyone but you and Yoongi could see the exchange, but Taehyung gently cupped your chin with his large hand and looked longingly into your eyes. “That is, if you’d let me.”

Silence. Then raucous laughter from you and Taehyung. (Yoongi was visibly cringing in his booth.) You expected nothing less from the theater major, but you couldn’t help the delicate fluttering that began in your stomach. Was this the fabled Taehyung Effect at work? The two of you turned to your microphones and opened the floor to callers, as per usual for this segment of your show. What was highly unusual, however, was the heartfelt “confession” that was unwittingly broadcasted to everyone tuned in. Unbeknownst to everyone, the red on-air sign shone above your heads, serving as a beacon or perhaps an unfortunately ignored warning. A warning that your lighthearted joke wasn’t going to be a joke to some.

A warning that the harbinger of doom himself was listening in… A warning that he had now collected leverage over his new enemy… A warning that he was going to destroy you, even if he had to use his own relative to do it. He would surely add this to his rapidly growing arsenal of schemes.

The next day, the very air at Mugunghwa was different. Somehow, despite being the enigmatic second-place student, everyone instinctively knew to distance themselves from you. Biologically speaking, humans were still animals, despite the staunch separation that was created over time. There was still a basal instinct to survive. In this case, that instinct screamed, “Get away from the brainlet that dared to tip the scales and anger Kim Namjoon.” You didn’t blame anyone for their decision. You couldn’t. You’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if you did, and you didn’t want “hypocrite” to be engraved on your tombstone next to “cold-blooded killer”.

Everywhere you walked, people watched you intently with eyes filled with either fear, confusion, or disgust. You could hear thinly-veiled whispers as you passed your fellow students.

“There she is.”

“She’s surprisingly pretty. I expected some ugly broad to be under Namjoon’s shadow.”

Ah, yes. You had forgotten your previously fairly secretive life before the shoe dropped. You were content with living under the radar. After all, it kept the vicious rumors of the poor girl who by hook or crook got her way into an elite university on a full-ride scholarship at bay. As long as you held the number two spot, nobody cared about you. News of your arrival and subsequent theories surrounding it were just a fad that most people shortly moved on from. The drastic and sudden change from peaceful irrelevance to hostile notoriety made you nauseous.

The cold air nipped at your flesh while you made your way to the library. Fresh snow made its satisfying crunching sound as you sped towards your destination. Wait. Sped? Only when you looked down at your feet did you realize that your steps were quicker than usual. Needless to say, you were confused at this revelation. Were things really this bad? Why was your body subconsciously hurrying you along when no danger was immediately present? Then, it hit you: If the Kim Taehyung Effect caused your insides to flutter and your heart melt with glee, the Kim Namjoon Effect caused everyone to cower and hide in pure horror. Maybe it ran in the family. After all, the two were related. How that crucial detail managed to slip past you was beyond human understanding.

Soon enough, you made your way into the campus library. Warmth enveloped you and thawed your chilled skin with each step into the large building. The tall bookshelves that towered over you and the other patrons made you feel safe. The walls of knowledge served as barriers from the predatory glares that were shot your way anywhere else. Here, while not entirely forbidden, hushed insults and remarks were more so. The library was your sanctuary when the dormitories weren’t, and with all the girls and even your RA avoiding you like the plague, it was safe to say that your dorm wasn’t very inviting right now.

Whatever it took, you needed to get your mind off of the Namjoon business. Sitting down in the warm silence served to do just that. You absentmindedly wandered through the various sections of the building. The nutty scent of someone’s morning brew filled your nostrils on your journey, easily putting you at ease in an instant. The rhythmic click-clack of someone's fingers against a computer keyboard kept your body grounded to the Earth. It served as a nice tether and protection from your thoughts that threatened to whisk you away into the stratosphere with every step you took.

Your feet took you past the reference section, the nonfiction section, and even the genealogy section before making its final stop at the fiction section. When you first started college, you found it odd that a library carried such books, but you soon came to realize that an escape into another world was appreciated by everyone. A love for fiction did not have an age limit.

You found yourself engrossed in a high fantasy novel by one Bang Sihyuk. (A very talented author, you decided. You made a note to look into some of his other works when you weren’t staring death in the face.) The sweet sound of yet another page turning and revealing more of the lore slowed your racing heart. The subtle smell of ink and glue softened your muscles, willing them to relax into the plush chair. The floor lamp next to you glowed softly and turned the usually stark clash of pitch black lettering against white pages into a mellow brown against cream parchment.

Even if you knew you had to face the wolves outside your sanctuary eventually, you still savored the solace you had in that moment. What you never considered was that those halcyon days were going to soon fall into utter ruin and despair with a singular human-shaped silhouette.

Everywhere Namjoon went, eyes followed. The air around him crackled with apprehension, but he couldn’t care less if he tried. This was natural. The pitiful prey animals around scrambled away for dear life, functioning solely on the fleeting notion that sticking around would spell their demise. Most of the people here were college students beginning their prime. They couldn’t afford to wither away… Not yet, at least… And certainly not here.

Stifled gasps laced with fear and admiration threatened to strangle the poor Kim heir. How he so desperately wished that they would all shut up! The constant buzzing murmur felt like mosquitoes tiptoeing across his skin during the hot and balmy summer months. It was highly annoying, to say the least.

His piercing mocha eyes landed on a target. A mousy figure was dwarfed by Namjoon’s taller and muscular frame. Pair the size difference with his steely and—arguably murderous—gaze fixed on the piteous male before him, both parties were surprised that the smaller student didn’t go into cardiac arrest.

“I would stay to chat, but I have important business to attend to,” Namjoon began. The timbre of his voice seeped into the small man’s bones and rattled them with each syllable. “You obviously know something, or else you wouldn’t be so pathetically fearful.”

The other male gulped audibly. His dull brown eyes stared into Namjoon’s vibrant cocoa ones. His pupils contracted as a cold sweat formed on his forehead and neck. Deep down, he knew that one wrong move would send him spiraling into horrors unimaginable. This was Kim Namjoon he was dealing with. He only had one chance.

“I don’t know w-what you’re talking about…” He squeaked.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes with clear annoyance and disgust for the situation and the animal shivering before him. This caused the mousy man to gasp sharply.

“Tell me where (Y/N) (L/N) is. It’s a simple request. Even someone of your calibre should be capable of such a mundane task.” Namjoon stated simply. Disdain bled through his words into his tone and seeped into his prey’s already paper-thin psyche.

With a trembling arm, the rodent (as Namjoon decided to call him) pointed in the direction of the campus library. Of course you would be there. It made his blood boil to think that you’d already be in the library after receiving news of your latest feat. Anyone else would be a fool to risk losing such an honor. Studying was the only way to cement your new station as Mugunghwa’s new number one.

Without so much as a half-assed utter of thanks, Namjoon strode off in the direction of the large building. He was so hyper-focused on cutting you down and ensuring that you wouldn’t be a problem again that the signature thud of a body against snow missed his attention completely. The concerned and shocked gasps of onlookers didn’t affect him either.

Soon enough, he was at his destination. The same book-filled shelves and walls that greeted you greeted him at the entrance. Upon seeing his figure, the librarian at the circulation desk straightened in order to greet Namjoon properly. ‘At least one person here knew their place.’ He thought to himself.

“I’m looking for (Y/N) (L/N). It’d be in your best interest to point me in her direction as quickly as possible, Jimin.” Namjoon stated coolly with a tinge of nonchalance. Although he was painfully aware of the importance his little scouting mission served, his seemingly apathetic tone was the result of having said the same thing over and over like a broken record. The sooner he found you and got you to bend the knee, the sooner he could return home to his own studies.

The librarian, Jimin, nodded and swiftly pointed towards the fiction section. His mug of hazelnut coffee threatened to spill at the sudden and crisp motion. “She went that way, towards the fiction books.” He stated plainly. Namjoon couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his features. Jimin was always such an attentive servant.

Ever since that little incident before Mugunghwa’s annual recital, the dance major felt a deep sense of allegiance towards the older male. He had to. Namjoon was the only reason Park Jimin was able to continue his dream of becoming a world-class dancer, and it was made abundantly clear that what Kim Namjoon giveth, he can just as easily taketh away. Poor Jimin had no idea why you were being sought out by the most powerful student at the university, but he couldn’t help but suppress the gnawing sensation that he was leading you to a painful end.

Once again, forgoing a thank you, Namjoon began the final stretch of his arduous journey to find you and finally set things right in the world. The only issue was that he had no idea who he was looking for, exactly.

Oddly enough, despite your status, you had managed to keep a low profile. Very few people actually knew what you looked like. Hell, your student profile didn’t even have an image of you posted. In fact, the only way people outside of your direct circle of cohorts started to gather what you looked like was because the web connecting (Y/N) (L/N), radio show host and journalism major and (Y/N) (L/N), former number two was finally starting to weave itself. As far as most of the student body was concerned, you were nothing but a faceless placeholder image against a drab gray background. It wouldn’t have surprised Namjoon if you actually walked around with the words, “NO IMAGE AVAILABLE” permanently marked on your body. What he saw, however, was beyond his own comprehension.

There you were, his enemy, his prey. You sat idly in the large cushioned chair with your book nestled delicately in your hands. For the moment, you were blissfully unaware of the danger that loomed nearby. This was almost too easy. Almost as if your presence unlocked a vault to all his plans to destroy you, you looked at him.

And then his world changed. He almost felt sick at the sudden rush of sensory input his brain was forced to parse through. The previously unsaturated hall roared to life with colors he hadn’t even seen before. Warm browns, reds, and hues of every other name shot into Namjoon’s retinas upon gazing at your graceful form. This was (Y/N) (L/N)? This hidden gem? He was meant to demolish this?

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was rendered speechless. His heart began to beat in double-time. If his biological functions were a musical piece, this specific section’s tempo marking would be prestissimo. Beyond vivace, beyond presto.

He couldn’t take it, so for the first time ever, Kim Namjoon ran away.

You didn’t dare move. Fear wrapped its spindly fingers around your heart and clutched it in its icy grasp. You didn’t have to move your eyes off of the page to see who the shadow cast onto it belonged to. Deep down, you knew.

Goddamn it.

You just knew.

Just when you gathered the courage to face your doom head on, he was gone.

“What the fuck…?” You whispered. Your fantasy novel fell to the ground on its spine with a soft thud. Was this it? Were you officially losing it? Was stress causing you to hallucinate and see literal shadow people?! That was it.

Not wanting to have a literal breakdown in the middle of the library, you honed your senses in on the now cold-smelling coffee nearby. The faint hazelnut blend managed to at least tether you down to reality once more. You took a deep breath. Everything was now in focus. You had to leave, you decided. So that’s what you did.

If the library’s other patrons noticed the shocked, glazed over look in your eyes, nobody said anything. You had just come in contact with the menace. You were lucky to be alive. There’s no need to add insult to injury by inquiring about your current situation. Wordlessly, you ambled out of the library door. Jimin’s small eyes followed your every movement until you were finally out of his line of sight.

Soon enough, you made it to your dorm room. Oddly enough, it felt like you’d walked through a wormhole and warped to the private space. It appears that moving effortlessly through time and space was an eerily common theme that day. Not wishing to dwell on it any further, you plummeted onto your bed and let a dreamless sleep whisk you away from all your troubles.

A month had passed since your clandestine encounter with Namjoon. Surprisingly enough, after the first week or so of living in terror, the foreboding feeling of doom had all but disappeared. Like a colony of ants rebuilding their anthill after a sudden rainstorm, so too did Mugunghwa National Academy rebuild anew. As Thanksgiving rolled into Christmas, the student body had learned to accept that you were now at the top of the food chain. The status quo had shifted in your favor. Students that would previously mutter curses after you passed by would suddenly wave amicably once they noticed your presence.

While the sudden lack of hostility was appreciated, you couldn’t help but notice how shallow the whole situation was. A faint sense of disgust settled at the pit of your stomach. Or was it foreboding, after all? After your encounter with Namjoon’s shadow at the library, the Kim Industries heir had disappeared suddenly. He had disappeared without a trace. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. His scores were still updated regularly; his name was still in the mouths of every man, woman, and child that walked across campus; and you swore that you saw his tall figure slither like a snake behind buildings and shrubbery one time after class. While there was solid proof that he still (at the very least) resided within this plane of existence, Kim Namjoon had achieved cryptid status. Just a month ago, he was the dark overlord that ruled Mugunghwa with an iron fist. Now, he was merely a relic of the past, a name synonymous with the Boogeyman. Kim Namjoon was now used to scare freshmen like tales of a monster under one’s bed were used to frighten young children.

The truth, like all things are, was much more complicated than that. After he met you, his goddess, at the library, Namjoon spiraled out of control. Nothing was the same for him. At first, it was a fleeting rush of endorphins, he had decided. Perhaps the sense of victory he felt after finding his long lost rival caused his brain to go into overdrive with glee. With that in mind, he returned home to lick his wounds and rewrite his battle plans.

The next day, everything seemed normal enough. His world was in grayscale once more. Individuals who weren’t of direct importance to him retained their distorted, blob-like features. His senses were mostly dulled once again… Until you appeared. You walked across campus with grace that put the supermodels that his father regularly “worked with” to shame. To be honest, they looked like pitiful crows with snapped legs when put up against your stork-like elegance.

His previously unsaturated world regained its color. His heart rate increased, warmth filled his veins as a result. Everything was crisply in focus when it came to you. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was terrified… But that’s what intrigued him all the more. Once you left his sight, however, the blooming colors vanished. Everything was blurred again. The warmth had died and left him empty, hollow, and cold. After a few days of this occurrence, Namjoon made his biggest realization yet: he was in love with you.

He was quick to write it off as pure lust. After all, remaining at the top didn’t leave much time for him to indulge in more carnal pleasures. Hell, the only thing he could remember slamming on a table on doing all night long was homework, as old and pathetic as the joke was. Namjoon was a dashing, intelligent young man beginning to reach his prime. Abstaining from such a primal and basic need wasn’t good for him. With that in mind, he immediately began his conquest.

First, it started with the models his father would fuck behind his mother’s back. Despite how carefully manufactured their appearances were, they didn’t quench his thirst. In fact, they enraged Namjoon to the point where it wasn’t uncommon for the women to leave his bedroom bruised the next morning. This charade went on for much too long until he’d had enough.

No other woman could set his heart aflame without even trying. No other woman could bring life to his distorted and achromatic world like you could. So he tried a man. Several men, in fact. He got so desperate that not even his little Park Jimin was safe from his ravenous clutches.

Nothing. Nothing had worked.

Now, as the clock struck midnight in his grand bedroom, Namjoon sat in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. He’d been so on edge for the longest time, yet nothing he did could stir him. So, he did the only thing he knew how… Thoughts of you filled his mind as he ghosted a finger across his limp member. The warmth he felt was returning once more…

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?”

There you were in the Kim manor’s living room. A black silk robe hugged your form perfectly as you bounded over to him. Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast you in its heavenly warm glow. Your (E/C) eyes peered up at him with such admiration, lust, and most importantly, love. Before he could even properly process the scene, you had him enveloped in the warmest hug imaginable.

Namjoon felt a rush of lust and blood shoot straight to his dick.

“I know, darling… But I’m here now. We can be together. I’m all yours from now on.” He replied smoothly.

Namjoon didn’t even think it possible for your eyes to shine any brighter, but they did. And they were all for him. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, for his eyes only… He gently caressed your cheek, careful not to mark it. The time for leaving marks and bruises would come later on…

“Really?” You asked. Your entire face lit with hope and wonder. “You mean it? Please don’t tease me, baby~. I don’t know what I’d do if you had to go so soon…”

You buried yourself into him, as if you knew that your home was within his embrace. He relished in it. He really did…

Namjoon felt feverish. His hands got to work immediately. Visions of you nestled against him, starlit eyes gazing into his, your form undulating beneath him as he pounded into you with everything he had. Your ecstatic moans and gasps filled his ears and mind, creating a carnal symphony only you could compose.

Sweat beaded on his temples, his arms beginning to burn with exhaustion as they continued to bring him to completion. Musical, “I love you, Namjoon”s and “Please! I’m so close, baby! Fuck me!”s began to crescendo rapidly. The world around him went from a gentle warmth to a blazing inferno. Colors reached their maximum saturation. Namjoon’s heart began to beat erratically. This was it. This was it! This is what he needed!

“Yes, (Y/N). You’re so good to me! Take it! Take it!!”

With an animalistic roar, Namjoon shot his seed. It coated his body and even his blanket that he pushed aside in his lustful fever. The fireworks came to a close. His jagged breaths began to even themselves out. The angels stopped singing. He was alone once more… But he wouldn’t be for long.

Tears filled Namjoon’s vision as he looked at his clock. Time wasn’t important anymore… But you were. He was going to have you, and he was going to become number one again. Kim Namjoon was going to be your number one.

Just like that, the year of terror had come and gone. Now, a new year was upon you and another December along with it. You stared up at your dorm room’s ceiling with a dumb smile etched on your face. After all, that was the only expression you could possibly muster, given the circumstances.

“Damn… What the hell happened to me?” Was all you managed to say as you turned onto your side. Your phone in hand, you scrolled through your photo gallery almost absentmindedly until you reached one particular photo. There you were at a carnival with the Devil incarnate, Kim Namjoon. Your eyes bright with glee at the large plush you held in one arm as you posed with Namjoon for a selfie.

You chuckled and zoomed in on the image with a wistful smirk. While you stared ahead at the camera, Namjoon stared at you with an expression that you didn’t even know that he possessed: pure, unadulterated admiration. You were almost inclined to call it love.

The past year and some change was a whirlwind. Your earliest memory of it consisted of finally coming to terms with the ecosystem at Mugunghwa, only to be faced with Namjoon and your whole world coming down. Students and staff alike scurried away from the dining area, not wanting to be a witness to a crime. You had gained new friends over the course of these months. They simply couldn’t stand to see your last moments on this earth in complete agony.

However, your death never came. Namjoon stood proudly in the now empty cafeteria, as if he relished in the fact that he could clear a room without uttering a single word.

“(Y/N) (L/N). It’s so good to finally put a name to a face… And what a lovely face it is…”

If Namjoon wasn’t going to kill you, the water lodged in your windpipe at his words would. You sputtered, hands waving as you choked on your water. Suddenly, Namjoon came behind you and swiftly patted your back. Once you could breathe again, you wiped at your tear-filled eyes and peered up at him. “I’m sorry… What?”

Namjoon returned to his original position in front of you with a smirk. Pulling out a chair, he sat down with the practiced air of a businessman about to make a deal. “I called you beautiful. I do hope that wasn’t too forward.”

Now, you were suspicious. Satan himself had saved you from choking and was now calling you attractive? Were you dead? Did you imagine Namjoon helping you as a last-ditch effort to survive somehow? Was that the image your brain created as you slipped away into the world of the dead? But this was reality. Something deep down told you that you weren’t dying or dreaming.

“Forgive my skepticism, but I highly doubt that you came to exchange compliments. What do you want, Kim Namjoon?” You asked icily. The male in front of you visibly recoiled at your tone, as if he didn’t factor in the possibility that you could speak with such a tone. He quickly recovered, however, and he began his pitch.

“You’re half right, (Y/N). I didn’t come here to only compliment you, but I came here to have a discussion that is long overdue. At my core, I am a businessman. I make deals, I negotiate. That’s what I’m here to do.” Namjoon stated simply. Looking deeply into his eyes, he didn’t show any signs of insincerity, but that’s to be expected. He’s been trained his entire life to hiding his true intentions behind an amicable facade, regardless of how nefarious his plans may or may not be.

“I see… What is it that you wish to discuss? I’m afraid that I’m not as well-versed in business etiquette as you, so please forgive me for any mistakes or slip-ups that I may make. That being said, this is not an invitation to walk all over me. I may be inexperienced, but I am by no means an idiot.”

Could you be any more perfect for him? A beautiful face and body, poise and grace, and the courage to hold her own in a negotiation? Not to mention, the colors were swirling around you and blooming delicately in such a comforting fashion. He was absolutely smitten.

“I wouldn’t dare make the mistake of calling someone who replaced me as top dog an idiot. Give me some credit. I’m not as vile as the university’s tall tales make me out to be. I’m sure that my cousin, Taehyung, could vouch for me.”

You bristled at the mention of Taehyung. What had he done to him? Did something happen? No, that couldn’t be. You had just finished your show with Tae only a half hour ago. Surely, that isn’t enough time for him to get into any trouble, right?

“Calm down, (Y/N). Nothing’s happened to him. I can see the wheels turning in your head. My cousin is safe and sound. I can even call him up for you, if you don’t believe me.” Namjoon said smoothly, already fishing his phone out of his designer coat’s pocket.

“No, that’s fine…” You swallowed and regained your composure. Once you were calmed down, you returned Namjoon’s gaze. “I’m sure he’s alright. If anything, I’ll call him later. Right now, this is more important.”

Namjoon put his phone away and leaned back in his chair whilst giving a dismissive wave of his hand. Hopefully, the display of nonchalance would mask the sheer excitement and feverish nervousness he felt from being so close to you. Hearing your voice was like hearing the soothing melodies of birdsong in the morning. His heart soared at the mere act of being in your presence.

“Very well. I came here to apologize. You see, I’m well aware of the distress to you and everyone here at Mugunghwa that I’ve caused, and for that, I’m sorry.”

You could have died right there. Kim Namjoon? Apologizing? And apologizing to you, no less?! The infamous heir to Kim Industries, known for the downfall of any and everyone who dared impede his goals was apologizing to you?!

“Please, (Y/N). Forgive me. It’s just that losing to you has put my life into perspective. Yes, I was the head of our class, but what did that mean? Why was I fighting so hard to keep a title that in the long run, means so little? What was the point if I had no one to share it with?”

“What the hell are you getting at, Kim? I fail to see what this has to do with conducting business.”

As precious as you were to him, Namjoon despised your tone. If you were to be his, that sharp tongue would have to be dealt with. Besides, in that instant, you reminded him of his lowlife father. That certainly wouldn’t do. His queen should never adopt the mannerisms of Kim Joonho. Never. Ever. You were to whisper sweet nothings into his ear while he reciprocated. You were to never take such a tone with him ever again.

“I was rambling, so I’ll forgive that insolent remark of yours just this once. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Namjoon stated darkly.

Not wanting to push your luck, you relented. You were actually talking to Kim Namjoon. You couldn’t afford to ruin an opportunity like this.

“Right.” He resumed “The truth is that I’ve been watching you for quite some time. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do anymore. You’ve occupied every inch of my mind, and I just wanted to ask if you’d be mine, (Y/N).”

You sat there, slack-jawed. Was he serious?! What was happening?

“You’re joking… There’s no way that you could be serious. There’s no fucking way!”

“I am. I’ve done some soul-searching recently, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you are what I’ve been fighting for all this time. Not a damn class rank. I’ve been fighting for love, affection, understanding… And I believe that I can find all of that in you.”

“You… What…? I- How?”

“February 14, a dozen red roses were waiting for you on your desk in your dorm. With them, was a card addressed to you from a secret admirer. March 14, a diamond necklace was gifted to you for White Day by a secret admirer. And now, these.”

Namjoon produced a stack of envelopes bound by a black silk ribbon from his jacket pocket.

“These are from me. You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). Can you tell me who your secret admirer is?”

That was April. After a few talks with your co-host and having to sit through embarrassing stories of their childhoods, you finally took the leap and went out on a date with Namjoon… And you were the happiest you’ve ever been. The large stuffed animal that Namjoon had won you sat on a bookshelf, next to several other trinkets he had given you over the months you had dated.

You chuckled to yourself at the memory and closed your photos app. After which, you opened up your messaging app to shoot a quick text to Namjoon. That was until, you got a notification reading,

KIM INDUSTRIES CEO, KIM JOONHO FOUND DEAD IN HIS WINTER ESTATE.

Without thinking, you dialed Namjoon’s number and was greeted by a somber moan answering the phone.

“Namjoon, baby, I’m so sorry… I just saw the news.”

A sniff. “Hey. So the news outlets already published the story, huh? I should have known that it wouldn’t take long… They could at least have the common decency of letting his corpse grow cold first before they publicize it.” Namjoon chuckled humorlessly.

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t imagine going through the sudden shock of losing your parent, only to deal with the press soon afterward. You sensed that Namjoon needed some time to himself to grieve, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

“Yeah, it’s shitty what they’re doing. And to think that I’m going into that profession. It’s crazy.”

“It is what it is, (Y/N). Besides, I have faith that you’ll be one of the good journalists that don’t try to weave everything that they hear into lies and defamation.” He said earnestly.

Something about the way Namjoon spoke was unnerving. He didn’t sound like someone who was mourning their late father, but then again, he might have been in shock. His apathetic demeanor on the matter must have been a coping mechanism. After all, losing your father so suddenly is a lot to process.

All you could do is hum in response. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so, dear.”

A pregnant pause.

“Hey, (Y/N). I know this sounds horribly insensitive, but, can we still have our dinner date at my mansion? It’s just that I can’t bear to be alone right now, and you’re the only person I’ve been able to trust lately. It doesn’t have to be a date. I guess I just want you to come over.”

Your heart shattered into smithereens. He was alone and scared. Namjoon had no one to trust or turn to in his time of need, yet he found it within his heart to ask you. Who were you to refuse?

“Alright. I’ll go. Same time?”

He didn’t have to say a word, but you could hear his dimpled smile some out to play.

“Y-yes, yes, of course! Same time! Thank you so much, (Y/N). You don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Alright, see you soon. Bye.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh and faced your closet. You had exactly two hours to get ready for dinner. You had two hours to prepare…

And so did Namjoon.

Once again, Namjoon was summoned to his father’s study. He was expecting it sooner or later. His class rank hadn’t improved since his father sent him to take his top spot back by any means necessary, but you were number one now. Namjoon wouldn’t dare dethrone his goddess from her rightful pedestal.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was upon opening the large doors a swift slap coming across his face.

“You useless, useless brat! You can’t even eliminate a simple girl?! You can’t even reclaim your title?! How am I supposed to leave my estate and company in such incapable hands?!”

Joonho was fuming. His once pride and joy had betrayed him and disappointed him. How dare he? Namjoon sat on the floor, gingerly rubbing his cheek. He was sure his father’s handprint was burned into his flesh.

“I swear, you’re incompetent just like your brother! He disappointed me, and look at where he is now! I should have known that it was too good to be true.”

At the mention of his brother, Namjoon’s body stiffened.

“All of this. You’re ruining your life and your career all for some girl?! You’re willing to throw away what I’ve essentially bred you for, all for some lowlife pussy?!”

At the mention of you, Namjoon began to see red.

“I suppose I’ve been too lenient on you. I should have known that you would flounder. Maybe I’ll get rid of (Y/N) myself. It’s clear that she means a lot to you. Maybe you’ll get back in line once she perishes.”

That was the final straw. With pure rage fueling his every cell, Namjoon sprinted over to his father’s desk and grabbed his letter opener.

“Say it again, bastard! Say it again!”

Now, Joonho’s figure was dissolving into a crimson blob. All of his human like features were gone in a furious red haze. Kim Joonho wasn’t his father anymore. He wasn’t even human.

He was the enemy.

Without giving his father a chance to speak, Namjoon plunged the letter opener into the older man’s eye sockets. After that, it was a blur. Hours had seemingly passed and Kim Joonho was nothing but a human pincushion. Stab wounds littered his body, and blood was oozing out of every one. With a satisfied grin, Namjoon stood and cupped a crimson hand to his face.

“Seokjin! Seokjin! Come down here!”

The head butler rushed in the study and into the carnage. The older male was mortified at the bloodbath before him, but he couldn’t help the relieved smile and tears of joy forming in his tear ducts.

“Brother, come help me clean up father. Unless, of course, you have some words for him?”

Seokjin carefully approached his father’s corpse and smiled wickedly. He placed a gloved hand on his eyeless face.

“You’ve disappointed me, Joonho. And now look where that’s brought you. My transgressions against you warranted that I were to be stripped of my place in the world as your son, only to become your servant. Your transgressions warranted your death at the hands of your prodigy. Isn’t that poetic justice? Sleep well, father.”

“Master Namjoon will be down in a moment.” A maid stated as she had you seated.

A white cloth napkin was folded and placed on your lap while you got comfortable in the antique dining chair. Staff hurried to and fro to finish preparing for your meal, and it was almost amusing seeing them rush around like busy worker bees instead of the esteemed staff of the Kim Manor.

A few moments ticked away before Namjoon made his appearance. He was elegantly clad in a designer Armani suit, giving a regal and princely appearance as he made his way over to you from the grand foyer.

“Please forgive me, dear. I had some business to attend to.”

Namjoon outstretched his arms, motioning for you to give him a hug. You happily obliged.

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” You cheekily giggled. If you ignored the whole dead dad situation, the whole scene would appear wholesomely domestic. You decided to indulge in that notion.

Namjoon’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting. I hope that we can make up for lost time during dinner, yeah?”

You nodded and sat down in your chair. Namjoon was seated right beside you. As if on cue, the staff brought in your dishes. A classic Christmas dinner, consisting of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, ham, and vegetables was placed in front of you. On a small dish nearby, some cranberry jelly sat. You tried to hide the grimace at the red jelly. You were by no means a fan of the garnish, but you didn’t want to appear picky or ungrateful, especially considering the reason why you were having dinner with Namjoon in the first place.

Ever the attentive partner, Namjoon was keen on noticing your inner turmoil. “Is something not to your liking?”

“Uh, it’s just… I don’t really like cranberry jelly… That’s all.”

Namjoon looked utterly dumbfounded before letting out a joyful, booming laugh. “That’s all? Oh, (Y/N). You had me worried! I thought that I’d ruined the whole meal for you!”

His fork stabbed into a piece of turkey and he dipped the meat into the red gelatin.

“But, please do try the jelly. My brother and I, we made it for this occasion. I promise it’s nothing like the canned slop they sell in grocery stores.”

Namjoon made this? Now, this you had to try.

“Alright. Since you went through the effort of making it, I’ll give it a shot.”

You copied Namjoon’s actions of taking a slice of turkey and dipping it in the cranberry jelly. With the expression of a chef on Chopped, Namjoon eagerly watched as you placed the food in your mouth.

“Mmm! This is delicious! Namjoon, you should sell this! This is amazing!”

Another laugh came from Namjoon, although, this one had an arguably maniacal lilt. “Why, thank you, but I’m afraid that this specific batch is one of a kind. Besides, cranberry jelly isn’t the most profitable market out there.”

Little did you know that you had just ingested Kim Joonho’s coagulated blood. Perhaps that was why his cranberry jelly was one of a kind.

Merry Christmas.

#bwcssy2

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alistonjdrake · 4 years ago

Text

The Rusnak Party

Of Blood and Stone, The third book in The Saints’ Song Series, showcases the Escana Empire on the verge of crumbling as a murdered king and a divided government threaten to tear the country apart. As some grapple for power and wealth, others decide to jump ship.

Season One World Building Posts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Season Two World Building Posts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Season Three World Building Posts: 1

Bonus Episodes: 1 2 3

Main Wip Intro here

People are never completely sure where Vito Rusnak came from. Born in 1698 (after the fall of our Saints), he was likely of Abenian origin or raised in Palogne. Both are usually considered, sometimes a combination of the two, for his supposed education and for his future work and attachment to Abenland as a country. Most of what is known about him was provided by the man himself as backstory during his involvement in the late 1730s riots that eventually lead to the creation of the Republic of Abenland in 1743.

In Rusnak’s own words, he was raised partially in a Dackten conservatory, a minority sect of the Santivian church which preached for the dissolution of of the “aristocratic” hierarchies of the church as well as holding all properties in common and the collective ownership of the “charity of Santivian men”. Presumably talented in music, Rusnak would leave this conservatory at the age of sixteen to attend Doxseth College in Nomworth, Palogne. He took his Dackten ideals with him. Nomworth, often being dubbed the city of scholars and made up of a supremely diverse population for its predominantly foreign students. It was not long, according to Rusnak, until he switched out of the school of music and landed into a study of law after joining a literature group where they read books likely continuing the criticism of the Santivian church’s power structure as well as antique philosophers (an assumption made on Rusnak’s future proclamations about primitive society and the happiness and richness of cultures and societies that had not yet discovered poverty, a claim also found in some antique writing).

At some point, Rusnak began writing his own work. His early pieces were reflections of the Dackten sect and their eventual prosecution by the more dominant Santivian groups throughout the east, but he eventually landed on writing what would later be called idealized pieces about egalitarianism, communal ownership, and the redistribution of property behind the world of the church. Rusnak was very likely influenced by the amount of failed protests going on in the east that was fueled by anti-monarchy sentiments and the increase of religious prosecution as Oskyan Orthodox Santivians rose to prominence in the region.

Similar bodies of work to Rusnak’s work were outlawed by eastern governments in the aftermath of minor rebellions, but Rusnak sold his work as Utopian fiction and was able to bypass the book bans that targeted most of his colleagues, although any positive references to Dacktism had to be removed.

Rusnak graduated in 1721 at the age of twenty-three with a law degree and moved back to Abenland where he struggled to find a job and would eventually find himself working as a music teacher for another conservatory. Although by the time he would return to Abenland, the Dackten groups had all been removed and he would instead find himself under the employment of Oskyan officials. As the Abenian government weakened, Oskyan influence in the country grew greatly. Many of the dukes of Abenland were paying for their favors. This was the spark of decades of uneasiness in Abenland, as the weakened government and the advantages taken by Oskyan officials allowed ruling dukes to get richer and gain more power while the rest of the country was stuck in a stagnant struggle. One that would eventually lead to the dissolution of Rusnak’s job as the commodification of education resulted in private tutors for the children of dukes instead of more open institutions.

When the riots of the 1730s began, there was no such thing as the “Rusnak Party”. However, Vito Rusnak did become a prolific figure during them. It should be noted that while he was allied to many of the early leaders of the anti-duke and anti-Oskyan protests by the Abenian lower classes, he openly rejected armed revolution and instead advocated to “re-education” for the benefit of a classless society. However, due to the popularity of his writing at the time and the fact that he is credited with the messaging system rebels used to communicate, Rusnak is also usually to blame for the Kirdan Massacres.

The Kirdan Masscares is the term used for the event in which, as a reaction to the discovery from spies that many of the dukes had written for help from Oskyan forces (something that would surely squash the rebellion), so they planned a series of attacks on affluent dukes by smoking them out of their homes with controlled fires and shooting them down. Surviving members of noble families and those that fled the country in the aftermath of this event ultimately planned Vito Rusnak due to him being the most known rebel. As such, going forward all references to the rebels became dubbed as the “Rusnak party”.

The Kirdan Masscares are named after Arseniy Kirdan, the general of the Oskyan army at the time and the presumed receiver of the Abenian dukes’ letters. In the rebel party, they used Kirdan’s name to sign off all messages related to this plot. This event is also called “the Culling” by supporters and survivors on the rebellion side for obvious reasons.

In the aftermath of this, the ruling party was so scattered and weakened, it allowed for the creation for what would be known as the Republic of Abenland in 1743. Rusnak was quickly recognized as someone who would help reframe and rebuild the country.

It should be noted, that not all of the nobility left. In fact, what is known as the Abenian Republic was actually a relatively small collection of its states united under the former rebellion council. The massacres only weakened them and further pushed the nation into poverty as the Oskyans pulled out in fear of similar attacks as it was clearly apparent to King Niclas at the time that they had no insiders in the party and could not predict their movements, and he had no reason to help Abenland if they could not pay him.

With Rusnak’s familiarity with law, he was often called upon for insight on how to run the republic. It had its failings. The first being they had no money and the second being they were arguments about the future of governance. In the beginning, Rusnak wanted to turn to widespread Dacktism and political order based on popular sovereignty. He continued his criticisms about private property and in the injustices of unequal wealth and social classes, and while plenty agreed with him due to the bad taste left after the Oskyan Orthodox Consistory, there were few eager to back a movement fueled by religion.

The Republic also had many enemies since it’s creation. Many of the surviving dukes had fled to Oskya or Slovy and there were several attempted coups or the blocking of roads to isolate Abenians from much needed supplies. The remaining duchies also continually launched attacks in order to retake the Republic.

The Republic would crash in 1759 as a result of the failed assassination of Urs Felganhaur, a returned Abenian duke who had survived the massacres and had presumably captured someone with intel of the innerworkings of the Rusnak party. The shooter’s gunpowder would be too damp due to rain on the night of the plan and his capture would lead to the arrest of several of the republic’s key figures (including Valera de Martí, Rusnak’s mentee and then just sixteen going on seventeen). The invasion of Oskyan forces, now under the banner of King Vadik who took a much harsher stance against them, and the installation of dukes back to their abandoned duchies, killed the Republic and its leaders either went into hiding or continued to rebel in secret.

This would result in the continuation of bloody altercations, affairs similar to the Kirdan event, planned food shortages, and mass executions of those considered to be part of the party. Vito Rusnak at this point likely gave up his ideals of revolution without arms as it would be said that going forward Rusnak rebels usually carried guns or would be to blame of bombings and other violent forms of protests.

His books, along with the work of Valera de Martí, were banned and burned by the Oskyan forces. A jail sentence of four years was carried out on anyone to be found owning any of their writing, an increase of a year based on the amount of books owned. Rusnak himself went deep into hiding while his mentee spent much of his time in and out of Abenian prisons where he would write poetry, a brief history of the Republic, and further criticisms of the ruling class until he would be forbidden from having pen and paper during his repeated sentences.

Vito Rusnak would eventually be found and arrested in 1767 after an increased Oskyan presence and the slaughter of several other rebel groups. He had time before his arrest to warn his own daughter, Darya Rusnak, and Valera de Martí to flee the country and the east before he was taken in by Oskyan forces. Some months later, Darya would be arrested trying to cross the border and she would give out the names and presumed locations of all of her father’s allies in exchange for her own life.

in 1768, Vito Rusnak would be executed in Porsdal, Slovy in front of a crowd of Oskyan soldiers who would then take his head on a tour throughout all the major cities in Abenland to warn away any hiding or remaining rebels.

Likely unbeknownst to the Oskyans at the time, the execution of Vito Rusnak only sparked a continuation of his ideology.

Surprisingly, Valera de Martí escaped execution and was able to flee to Escan which exiled him instead of handing him over to the Oskyan government due to his being an Escana citizen. He is credited with spreading Rusnak Ideology to the west as he translated much of his mentor’s work and continued writing his own (before its eventual ban by the Escana government, much of his work was taught in schools due to his start in poetry). In fact, Valera was often more criticized for his open support of atheist beliefs. Much of Valera’s work was easier to swallow in the west, as even when he bemoaned about the things he thought was plaguing society the western (and importantly the Escana) powers saw it more as a criticism of the east instead of the inherent power structures carried by both nations.

Rusnak and de Martí were not the only people who were critical about private property, social classes, and wealth distribution but they quickly became the most famous to the point where most writers and speakers from this era (and beyond them) either get lumped under Rusnak or Valerist theory. At their core, both ideals are the same except Rusnak and people like him tend to take a stance rooted in religious idealism whereas Valera, born from the pioneers of the Escana middle class, and the people who came after him tend to focus more of plights afforded to working and lower class people as well as mocking individualism or earlier sentiments that stopped at “common good” and “common wealth”. Most Valerists are considered to believe that that the Rusnak party was not ambitious enough and that a further step needs to be taken for the advancement of society.

There is however, very little record of just how much de Martí may or may not have disagreed with Rusnak as very little is known about their relationship beyond what Darya Rusnak said about them when she was imprisoned, claiming that her father saw de Martí as more of his own blood than her. Although, de Martí himself would go on to reflect on the Republic years later and would not be very kind to its leaders while he talked about all the missed opportunities.

Even after Valera de Martí’s exile from the Escana Empire and the complete eradication of a rebellion in Abenland, the Rusnak party quickly spread throughout the continent and survives in much smaller but still active groups during The Saints Song series. All of the books outlining their early roots are illegal although a few are kept in university libraries in Palogne for the preservation of knowledge and it is also illegal for Rusnaks to assemble in parties larger than groups of four but whether or not that stops anyone is dependent on who you ask.

#my writing #worldbuilding #world building #guess how long this took me to write #a couple days to be honest #it's because Vito Rusnak is literally only a name mentioned in TSS whereas Valera has more of a fleshed out backstory #but Val's mentor had to have come from somewhere #tss trilogy #I'm not gonna go into the evolution of Rusnak and Valerist theory #in TNC Justyna has read some work by what she calls Valerist philosophers and I assume there would be shifts in the ideology especially #100 years after the riots and the failed republic but I'm not here to completely write all that out #this is just the stuff relevant to tss

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years ago

Text

Undertow (IV)

CH IV: Market Moments

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Listen to the audio version here!

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

Shawn felt slight guilt for letting the fib glide so smoothly off of his tongue. He and every other native to the town knew the market stands would have a slim chance of selling cheeseballs. Shawn knew not only because he works there, but also because he found the clear tub of the snack at an actual grocery store.

But the fib was worth it in his eyes. It resulted in Y/N running amuck in a quest for the orange snack, asking any patron she ran into where she could find some. Shawn just kept chuckling at her from his designated stand, apron tied around his waist. Anytime Brian noticed his employee’s lack of concentration during the beginning of the shift he would remind him in a stern tone to “keep your eyes on the bananas, not the girl.” And any bystander would have thought that comment triggered Shawn’s immediate tensing muscles and nostrils, flaring like a bull.

His employer knew, though, comments like those never put Shawn on edge like that. Brian’s eyes followed the young man’s gaze to see the same Y/N Shawn had introduced him to earlier that day. It was the stranger chatting her up, with his shoulder against one of the wooden beams nearby, that caught his attention. Based on the fuming reaction of the one beside him, the man piqued Shawn’s interest just as much. His sandy blonde hair and all-too-tight shirt made Shawn think to himself, why not just tattoo try-hard on your forehead?

“Jealous much?” Brian mumbles beside Shawn’s ear, resulting in a surprised yelp from the proximity. Though his emotions were undeniable, he refused them anyway.

“M’not.” Crossing his arms over his torso, Brian immediately patted one of his biceps in an attempt to bring them down.

“Don’t look so angry. Customers will think you’re unapproachable,” he hisses. Shawn obeys for the sake of his paycheck but refrains from straying his eyes from the two for long. Any customer who wanted assistance purchasing an item or had a question they demanded Shawn answer, the boy would only spare eye contact with them for fifty percent of the conversation.

“It’s been fifteen minutes. What could he possibly be talking about with her?”

Brian hums. “People talk about lots of things. Who knows, maybe they’re finding they have lots in common.” Shawn only scoffs at this.

“Please,” she’s a walking mermaid talking to a mooching lifeguard, Shawn thinks, “they have nothing in common.”

“Okay, how long can you hold your breath for?” Wesley’s lips form a devious smirk as the question leaves them. Y/N’s lips can only part, losing all acts of shaping anything near an answer. Her mind suffices a simple “just a while” seconds later, hoping it wasn’t too vague to beckon more questions. Lucky for her, it seems Wesley has a knack for caring more about the response to his own questions rather than hers. This was nothing new to Y/N, who did in fact, grow up with her father as a parent.

“My record is six minutes and fourteen seconds. It’s on my bucket list to beat the world record: twenty-two minutes and twenty-two seconds. I know it’s ambitious, but…” frankly, Y/N is growing bored of the conversation. As guilty as it sounds, she saw no point in speaking to Wesley when she would vanish from his world in a few days and head off to...somewhere else.

“Hey, let me ask you something,” she breaks off Wesley’s incessant chatting with a small smile and does not wait for his go-ahead to continue. “If you could go live anywhere on Earth, where would it be?” Wesley’s lips form a small ring as a strange, high-pitched tone leaves them. Y/N stands with wide-eyes and is too afraid to ask what that was or where it came from, deciding to stay silent.

“Does it have to be real, or can it be mythical?”

“I mean…preferably real, but--”

“Because my father always told me these stories when I was younger about this place on Earth. He claimed society was so different down there compared to the one on land, that he called it a world in our world.”

“D-down there?” Y/N responds in a meek voice, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah...Atlantis. You’ve heard the stories too, I’m assuming.”

“I mean...I’ve only seen it in that movie about the fish girl.”

“The mermaid,” he corrects.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Well, my dad described it differently. He said that their kingdom was built and crafted from a sunken city. Even after seeing it demolished and crumbled, the Atlanteans knew they could transform it into something incredible. And he went on about all these abilities they have, like how their eyes adjust naturally to the darkness of the water, how they have this innate connection to marine life and can communicate with any sea animal that crosses their path; they don’t even need to hold their breaths underwater!”

“Sounds like your father was a great storyteller…” Y/N chuckles nervously, eyes darting to the passing bystanders who continue giving Wesley concerning looks. Her blood was quickly running cold in fear of finding somebody with similar, piercing eyes Wesley’s father probably mentioned too.

“That’s the thing. My father might have been good at telling stories, but he is a horrible liar. I remember the fourth time asking him how Santa Claus could get into our house with no chimney and a locked door he could not come up with an answer and told me it was a myth. The same thing happened when I asked why we had to buy eggs when the Easter Bunny got millions for free. And when I asked how the Tooth Fairy had access to all the printing presses to international currencies without being arrested, he got upset with me...told me I was too smart for my own good.”

Y/N is slowly becoming baffled by the precarious names he is throwing out and decides to let him continue. Drawing any suspicion to herself due to confusion over well-known characters of the land-walkers is the last thing she needs.

“But, when it came to talking about Atlantis, he never seemed to run out of details. Any question I asked about it, he always seemed to have an answer for. I would ask more about it now because everything inside of me is telling me it’s a real place. But...I’m scared if I confront my dad about it…”

“He’ll tell you it’s fake.” Y/N pieces the end together for him. His lopsided smile slowly turns into that of a frown, earning a sympathetic gaze from Y/N. “Well, I don’t know how credible I am as a stranger, but…” She lifts a hand to rest on Wesley’s shoulder, “I think your father is right. You are too smart for your own good...and I think if such a place were to exist, there would be more evidence of it.” Wesley nods but soon pauses, becoming entranced by Y/N’s sincere gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice demands.

“Huh? Oh, nothing you just,” he clears his throat, “you have really pretty eyes.”

The orbs he was transfixed on moments before widen at this compliment. All at once, her mind rewinds itself to replay this afternoon with Shawn; his curls tickling her neck, the chuckle in his throat vibrating against her and her ruining their “moment”, a word she has yet to find a clear definition on. She also replays Connor’s entrance and comments about Shawn looking near ready to lock lips with her or be her utter demise through suffocation. Either activity sounded both passionate and intimate in a way Y/N was unclear about wanting with Wesley.

“Oh,” she whispers, dropping her arm from his shoulder in a haste.

“I-I’m sorry, that was awkward,” Wesley apologizes.

“No, no it’s alright. I just...I don’t want you to choke me,” she blurts, earning a few puzzled stares from those around them.

“What?”

“Or kiss me. Or...I don’t know, whatever happens in these moments.”

“Moments?” One of Wesley’s brows arch.

“Yes, a moment. Was that a moment? Because I think I just had my first one today and I’m not sure how--”

“Hey, Y/N, breathe.” He reaches both hands out to take her by the shoulders, quickly demonstrating a deep inhale and long exhale. She follows, mimicking his timed breaths down to the second. “It doesn’t have to be a moment if you don’t want it to be.” She nods, slowing her quick breaths and throwing a glance over her shoulder subconsciously for a quick peruse at Shawn’s figure behind the wooden stand. She smiles to herself, seeing his concentrating frame bend and twist meticulously to stack the bunches of bananas to perfection.

“Was it with Shawn?” Wesley asks. Y/N looks back toward him, pulling her brows together.

“Was…”

“Your moment. It was with Shawn, wasn’t it?”

“I..uh…” Her cheeks begin glowing red upon being caught.

“Hey, I’m not going to be upset.” He shakes his head, blonde streaks falling against his eyelashes. “Mendes and I might be tough on the water, but…” He takes his hands off of her shoulders, “I could never hate the dude enough to take his girl.” Y/N spares Wesley a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” She mumbles, preparing to pivot and return to Shawn’s stand.

“Oh, wait, Y/N--” the girl’s head turns back, humming.

“Where would you go, if you had the chance?” His question makes her eyes flicker down in thought, a pondering silence filling the air around the two.

“I’m not sure, actually. I don’t know if there is a place that could live up to this…” Through her answer, Wesley’s eyes met Shawn’s above her shoulder. Realizing he’d been caught, Shawn turned his body away, the feeling of dejection consuming his insides by the sight of his savior and worst enemy conversing.

“Well, just know a lot of people would miss you here if you left. More than just me,” he says, pressing a palm against his chest. Y/N looks behind her once more, only to be met with Shawn’s back.

“He would especially miss you.”

Another fond smile crawls onto her lips as she thanks Wesley again. When she turns to retreat to Shawn and Brian, the sinking feeling Wesley was awaiting inside of him felt more like a hot air balloon running off of helium than it did a whale with an anchor. As he begins walking in the opposite direction, sparing cursory glances at some of the products or swim trunks he walks past, his phone begins blaring its ringtone. He is stunned to pull it out and to be met with a pixelated version of his father and the name “DAD” overtaking the screen. Did his father finally keep his promise?

“Dad, hey!” The young man greets with exuberance.

“Hey, son. Finally got some free time…” Ripley announces at a regular volume. Hidden in between a few displays, he peers at Wesley slowly drifting from the curious girl, who was now speaking to an associate and pointing to the yellow fruits between them. “Tell me, how is it going? Did you win that surfing contest?”

“Yeah, but it kind of sucked to win now that I think about it. One of the other guys got really hurt.”

“Eh, I’m sure he’ll be fine. That’s what a rookie gets for going up against my son!” he barks a laugh. “I bet that trophy won you a couple of girls’ attention, huh?” Wesley gulps.

“I mean...not really--”

“Don’t lie to me, son. I can hear how lovesick you are. What’s her name?”

“Are you almost done yet?” Y/N groaned after Shawn finished up with a customer. She was sitting in a chair Shawn found under their table, picking at her nails in hopes that something interesting would happen.

“We’ve got another hour before we close up but then we have to put everything away so it’ll probably be an hour and 45 minutes before we can leave.” He shot her a smile as she dramatically slumped in the chair.

“They didn’t even have cheeseballs! I wasted half my day asking people if they had cheeseballs and they looked at me like I was insane.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help that she wanted the orange delicacy and in her opinion, these people were insane for not having it. “Just shut up and do your work so we can get out of here faster.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“I know what I want. Can you blame me?”

Shawn turned his back to her, opting to ignore her complaints instead of feed the fire.

“So you’re ignoring me now? Rude.”

He tried his best to keep the laugh in.

“That’s fine. I’ll find someone else to talk to.” She stood up and brushed off her pants, purposely bumping Shawn in the shoulder as she walked past. He reached out to grab her arms before she could get too far, forcing her to stop and turn around to look at him. “What, scared I’m going to find someone else to buy me cheeseballs?”

“Just stay safe.” There had been something nagging at his gut since he saw her with Wesley earlier and he was wary to let her out of his sight since then.

“Okay?” She gave him a funny look. “I’ll stay safe, no need to worry. Trust me, I know how to take care of myself.” It didn’t make Shawn feel much better but he let go of her anyways.

She walked off, only looking back once to shoot him a wink. He could only shake his head as he went back to work, wondering how it had been only one day and he was already infatuated with this girl.

Y/N walked around from table to table, actually taking the time to look at the contents this time. She didn’t have any money, as she found out earlier that day, but she still enjoyed looking at what each stand had to offer.

She looked around for a while before one stand in particular caught her eye. It was pushed back in a darker corner of the marketplace that people would probably miss if they weren’t paying attention.

She approached the table slowly, making sure to not startle the person running it, who seemed to be asleep in their chair. The table was decorated in an array of beachy looking stones and jewelry.

The person woke in her presence, sitting up and pushing their sunglasses up on their nose. “Why hello there.”

Y/N smiled at them, suddenly offset by their demeanor. She kept her gaze on the trinkets on the table, running her fingers over the symbols imprinted in them. Some posed a striking resemblance to the things she could find in her jewelry back home. Or, what used to be home.

“See something you like?”

“Yeah, they look a lot like-” She stopped herself, realizing that she almost revealed her identity.

“Like what?” They leaned forward, urging her to go on.

“Just, uh, something I saw in the store the other day.”

“You know,” They leaned back, crossing their arms over their chest. “Some say these came from Atlantis. Straight from the room of the princess.”

“Oh really?” She forced a laugh, retracting her hand to her chest. “Won’t the princess be upset that her things were taken?”

“She lives there no more. Ran away from an arranged marriage and was never found. I’m sure she cares very little about what happens to her old possessions.”

“That makes sense.” Her voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear herself.

“Please, take whatever you’d like. I’ll give it to you, half price.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I can’t.” She looked back to Shawn on the other side of the market, seeing him busy bagging some fruit for a customer.

“Are you sure? Such a beautiful girl deserves beautiful jewelry. Perhaps that boy you’ve been sitting with would want to get you a gift?”

“I really should get going.” Y/N nervously scratched her upper arm. “Thank you though.”

“Always! Come back any time.” They gave her a sly smile and she took a few steps back. “Have a great day.”

“Uh, you too.” She gave a polite smile and nod, turning around and hastily making her way back to Shawn.

The vendor pulled their sunglasses down from their eyes, revealing a pair of piercing green eyes. They pulled out a phone from their back pocket and unlocked it, clicking on the name Ripley in their contacts and bringing the phone to their ear.

Someone picked up at the last second, a gruff “what?” to greet the caller.

“It’s Merlin,” the vendor spoke. “I’ve got eyes on the subjects.”

Shawn’s post-work exhaustion and shopping trip from earlier in the day made heaviness caress his eyelids without complaint. Y/N hoped it would be the same for her, but she felt there was a kickdrum where her heart usually lied and the incessant wriggling of her toes beneath the bedsheets was impossible to control. This night in particular was when the girl felt scared to let sleep wash over her like a high-tide. Various scenarios of her waking up tomorrow without Shawn beside her or not in his bed played in her mind on an unrelenting loop.

The lime green digits on Shawn’s nightstand read 2:23 when the girl surrendered to the endeavor of catching shut-eye and opted for shuffling from beneath the covers and waddling to the kitchen. Despite seeing Shawn lock it earlier that night, she inspects the front door anyway. She does the same with the windows, even going as far as to flip the lock back and forth to build the small sense of security she felt. Even then paranoia still cloaked her mind and hypnotized her to grab the near-empty bin of cheeseballs from the kitchen cabinet and situate herself into a sitting position on the kitchen island, eyes pointed directly at the meager shard between the curtains of the kitchen window.

Slowly, the girl grew disoriented from the lack of sleep and stress harboring her for the last few days. The vision her distressed subconscious conjured is one far more macabre than she could have manifested while awake. Not only did they find her, but they kidnapped Shawn alongside her and drug him down to the depths of the water with no mercy. The scream he elicited when he no longer carried any valuable oxygen was muffled and distraught. Bubbles blurred his face, which, in turn, made tears build beneath Y/N’s eyelids. When she witnessed the facade of him go limp in the guard’s merciless hold and begin sinking, the whimpering pleas for him to wake up and escape quickly morphed to crackling screams.

When she heard his voice break through clear to her, the lids shielding her vision flung open. Immediately, her eyes stung from the contact of the cold air to her hot tears as she observed Shawn and Connor’s perturbed expressions. Glancing down, she found her arms stiff and cradling the bucket of cheeseballs to her chest.

“Uh…” she sits herself up, mimicking the position she was in last night before trying a buoyant tone of voice. “Good morning!”

“Good morning...you alright?” Connor lifts an eyebrow in Y/N’s direction, while Shawn is still lost for words after stumbling into her body tucked inwards and crying out for him.

“I’m good! Just came down for a...late-night snack. I must’ve closed my eyes for a few minutes.” She assures, holding up the plastic bucket for their eyes to study.

“Seems like you were here a little longer than that.” At this comment, she twists her body around and gasps at the numbers on the stove. The numbers 7:04 stared back at her menacingly.

“Woah,” she breathes out, whipping her head back to face Shawn and Connor. “My bad.”

“Were you feeling okay last night?”

“Yes,” she squeaks defensively. “I just...had trouble getting comfortable is all.” Crossing her arms, she refuses to meet Connor’s questioning eyes and Shawn’s features, still locked in place. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Y/N excuses herself in a mumble before sliding off of the counter and scurrying through Shawn’s open bedroom door, shutting it behind her. When a second closing door sounded, Connor looked directly at Shawn’s profile.

“So, you’re not gonna tell her what you heard?” Shawn glanced down to his fingers, picking at his nails.

“Why should I?”

“I mean, if a girl I was into confessed her love for me in her sleep I wouldn’t be standing there keeping quiet.”

And Shawn’s initial reaction was quite the opposite. When Y/N murmured “I love you” followed by his name an undeniable smirk tugged the corner of his lips. The man wasn’t quite sure he felt smitten at the same level, but he could surely reach it. And he wanted to, but the only thing stopping Shawn from planting a kiss to her lips the moment her eyelids fluttered open happened to be the echo of her cautionary messages playing on a loop in his brain. Both knew their relationship already pushed boundaries that threatened their lives to those looking for Y/N and to draw any more attention to themselves would be a ludicrous choice.

Furthermore, Y/N has shown no signs of traveling these last few days. For Shawn to jeopardize this new affair by selfishly wanting more out of it would only result in her packing her bags and leaving. She even preached that she would only provide Shawn with a load of heavy burdens and trouble. He begs to differ, since the moment they crossed paths, his woes were as scant as raindrops. But even in this unacknowledged intimacy, Shawn understood he must reciprocate the blurred lines, throw out the words he can never say to her, realize that she could up and leave any day now.

This new friendship was one Shawn was riding like a bumpy wave. And each time he thinks he may be near the end he plummets back into the thought of her. Every being of Shawn wants to follow Y/N’s instruction and keep paddling to the next wave to sweep him up.

“It was just a dream, Con. It didn’t mean anything.”

Whether or not he had admitted to himself, though, he was already snagged beneath by her undertow. The depth she chooses to yank him down to could be the least of his worries. The only doubt suffocating him is the matter of her deciding to let him go.

Look out for the next part of Undertow coming out 2/19/21!

Join the taglist to see what happens next!

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ravnicaforgoblins · 4 years ago

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Ravnica for Goblins

Exciting Planeswalker Visitors

(Caution: Before we begin, this post is going to be much more opinion-based than previous ones. These are my own homebrew ideas, use them as/if you wish, discard/dismiss them if you prefer.)

Planeswalkers are an integral part of MTG Lore, as well as several of its most iconic characters. Put simply, a Planeswalker is an individual with an inherent gift for traveling between planes, or worlds. The gift does not appear at birth, but is usually triggered by some manner of incredibly emotional (usually traumatizing) event. In addition, each Planeswalker displays a unique aptitude for a particular style of magic; be it plant growth, transformation, becoming transparent, illusions, invulnerability, summoning beasts, structural analysis, setting things on fire, etc. Whatever their specific brand of magic is, it’s usually on a higher level than an ordinary person can hope to achieve.

Planeswalkers, as a general rule, are wanderers by nature. They may have a home plane, or even an adopted home plane, but being able to traverse the multiverse leads many towards lives of constant adventuring/shenanigans. Add in the fact that Planeswalkers cannot bring anyone else with them on these travels (except in very rare cases), and you end up with a special breed of super-powerful magical loner. They show up, make a name for themselves with their big magic, and depart when they feel like it. Did you say, “Instant Adventure”?

Ravnica has a few native Planeswalkers among its citizens; Ral Zarek, Vraska, and Domri Rade. In addition, it has several Planeswalkers who have at some point or another (depending on your timeline) devoted enough time & energy to be effectively considered citizens; Azor, Tezzeret, Kaya, Dack Fayden, Dovin Baan, Gideon Jura, and Jace Beleren. Some of these are currently dead, missing, or magically barred from ever returning. At one point, Ravnica had more Planeswalkers on it at one time than any plane in the multiverse has ever or will ever see. If you are going the War of the Spark direction, good luck. You'll need it and so will your players. For everyone else, which Planeswalkers you choose to include in your campaign (if any), should be based on who will work the best for the story you’re trying to tell. A recommendation; if you find their lore too distracting and complicated, stick to the main beats. A lot of these figures can be boiled down to simple ideas, and you don’t want to bore your party with the entire novel of these usually dramatic/tragic lives. Trust me, the base concepts are enough.

With that in mind, here are four Planeswalkers that I, a random person on the internet, believe would work great for a Ravnica campaign. My choices are not based on who has canonically already spent time in Ravnica, or who would be the most powerful/dangerous to suddenly appear in the city. Several Planeswalkers have their own prior commitments on other planes that are pretty central to their character, and BAMFing them to Ravnica for a quick Bad Guy to take down wouldn’t do them justice. These four characters would slide into various aspects of Ravnica beautifully. These four would be the most exciting visitors to Ravnica.

Ashiok, Dream Render

I don’t think any MTG character could be as good a fit for a Ravnican Guild as Ashiok is for House Dimir. Ashiok is almost literally a walking shadow of secrets and intrigue. Their origins, their age, their motives, their face; hell, their gender is a secret yet unrevealed. Ashiok’s power is creating living beings born of the greatest fears stolen from people’s nightmares. Literally.

It’s like if the Dimir stopped half-assing the art of stealing thoughts and turned it into a weapon of mass destruction. Because even the mightiest of Ravnicans are afraid of things. Ask Niv-Mizzet about the Nephilim sometime, see how quickly he changes the subject. What’s better, for a Guild that prides itself on always having the up & up on everyone, Ashiok is inscrutable. They have no past that can be divined, no secrets that can be stolen, no previous encounters to prepare any for their arrival. Neither Lazav nor Etrata can claim such anonymity, despite their best efforts. Ashiok is a true enigma and a dangerous new weapon for House Dimir.

Ashiok also comes with the ability to create minions and NPCs from out of any PC’s worst nightmares, making encounters a great combination of roleplaying & combat. Fighting them is specifically facing one’s deepest & darkest fears made real. Can you say, “character development”?

Ashiok’s arrival could spread this new magical art to other Dimir Agents for a longer campaign, but it might be best to confine it to Ashiok in order to allow for a cleaner victory. Ashiok is not a fighter, cornering them into a direct confrontation should be enough to make the Nightmare Sculptor run for the hills. The mind is powerful, but also very squishy.

Tibalt, the Fiend-Blooded

You know how the Cult of Rakdos are technically Chaotic Evil but generally just a bunch of artsy hedonistic nuisances? Tibalt is to them what a gallon of gasoline would be to a lit stove. Good for fire, bad for everything else. Tibalt is an empath specializing in Pain Magic. Quite literally, he loves hurting people for fun. Drawn to pain like a magnet; physical, emotional, spiritual, psychological, etc, he is sadism personified.

His brief time on Ravnica during War of the Spark was enough to make a strong impression on the Rakdos.

“I like this one’s energy.”

This is because they do not realize how bad Tibalt would be for the Cult. There is a fundamental difference between the Chaotic Evil the Cult practices and the Chaotic Evil Tibalt delights in. The Rakdos have survived 10,000 years by taking in the freaks, the rejects, and the crazies, and giving them a place where they can live out their most depraved hedonistic fantasies. They are the voice of the outsiders bringing all figures of power & authority down a peg. They always punch up, never down. Tibalt is a young man with no home, no friends, no job, and no interests or hobbies beyond inflicting pain in as many people as possible. Tibalt punches everyone. The most important distinction between the two is that the Cult of Rakdos is a culture, a way of life for people to embrace; it might be crazy, but it welcomes & accepts people no matter how insane the world says they are. Tibalt does not care about anyone but himself. Following his example would see the city turned into the largest, bloodiest, and most destructive riot in its history; with Tibalt inciting and sicking every monstrosity he can find onto the city at once. He will burn the Rakdos candle at both ends and leave them to suffer the consequences of his fun. The aftermath being the city in ruins, the Cult wiped from the face of existence, and him moving on to his next project. In short, Tibalt will hurt the Cult of Rakdos as much, if not more, than the rest of Ravnica. Because that’s how he gets his kicks.

The one thing standing in his way will be Rakdos himself. As the single largest diva on the entire plane, Rakdos does not tolerate anyone who tries to steal his spotlight. As a 10,000+ year-old Demon Lord, Rakdos is in a league of his own, and Tibalt is just a hotshit little pain mage with a few tricks. It’s not a fight, it’s either an exit or a curtain call for the Planeswalker. If Rakdos is around, Tibalt’s spree will be very short-lived. If, however, Rakdos is doing his usual thing of hibernating for weeks, months, or years at a time, that’s a different story. Tibalt is good for if your campaign wants to bypass politics & intrigue and go straight to killing Cultists & Demons. He’s bad for anyone he comes in contact with.

Garruk Wildspeaker

In case I haven’t made my contempt for Domri Rade clear, I hold Domri Rade in utter contempt. As a character, as a Planeswalker, and most of all as a Gruul, he’s a failure. Scrawny, weak, gullible, and stupid. My chief grievance with Domri is that he fell short in all the areas the Gruul Clans idolize. He couldn’t survive in the wilderness on his own without his Planeswalker abilities, he couldn’t fight for himself except against weaker opponents or with herds of animals as backup, and he acted on orders from someone else who wasn’t Gruul. For a Guild built on independence and survival of the fittest, he failed both completely.

Garruk is the real deal. Gigantic, strong, savage, and cunning. Here is a man who, on a fundamental level, has embraced animal savagery as a way of life. He lives like a predator on the hunt, an alpha of any pack, and a fierce threat to all who intrude upon his territory. On a plane like Ravnica, where civilization has encroached on the untamed wilds almost completely, Garruk would be a gamechanger. Not only could he feasibly fight Borborygmos for leadership of the Gruul, he could win, and he could unite the Gruul under his howl of reclaiming the wilds from so-called “civilization”. Garruk would bring animal strength to the Gruul in ways they’ve only begun to tap into, and he’d do it in their language. Because Garruk understands the Gruul, and they understand him. They have so much in common with each other that it’s hard to think of any Planeswalker who could be welcomed so readily into a Guild. They would become so much more than rock-smashers and anarchists, they would become Ravnica’s reminder that nature will survive when all traces of society have crumbled away.

As if taking on the city itself wasn’t big enough already, Garruk has also taken to hunting other Planeswalkers, and can actually track them across the Multiverse. Meaning a few high-ranking members of Guilds and even the Living Guildpact have to take his threat seriously. He’s got a particular grudge against necromancers, dislikes talking, and has a special gift with animals of all varieties. All of which provides plenty of ideas to build from. He’s an 8ft tall Human Druid/Barbarian who willingly chooses animal savagery over intellectual reasoning, can there be anyone more perfect for the Gruul?

Did I say Ashiok was the most perfect fit for an MTG character in a Ravnican Guild? Yeah, scratch that. Garruk is.

Sarkhan Vol

Most Planeswalkers have a theme to their abilities. For some, that theme extends to their personalities as well. And then there are Planeswalkers who can be adequately summed up in a single word. For Sarkhan, that word would be “dragons”. Sarkhan sees dragons as nature’s purest & most destructive form, and carries a fascination with them that is perfectly healthy for anything with wings and scales that breathes fire, but generally less healthy for everything & everyone else.

One of the things that makes Ravnica unique is the distinct lack of dragons (emphasis on the plural). Ravnica has a dragon, Niv-Mizzet the Firemind, who made the executive decision thousands of years ago that he alone was sufficient to represent his entire species. Ravnican dragons are considered more intelligent than dragons on other planes, Niv himself being a prime example of this. Around the original signing of the Guildpact, Ravnica’s Godlike dragons were hunted to extinction, with Niv leading the hunt against his own kind. They were not entirely successful in this endeavor, but what few dragons do remain in the present day survive by staying as far off Niv’s radar as possible. Some dragons live by carrying out Niv’s will under constant supervision, or by hunting in the untamed wilds outside the city, or as sideshow attractions for the Rakdos (usually with their wings cut off to prevent escape). They are effectively stripped of anything that would identify them as “dragons” for the sake of their own existence. Since dragons are such a notoriously touchy subject for the Firemind, few have the nerve or fire immunity necessary to speak out against it.

Sarkhan would be horrified. If he thought the extinction of dragons on his home plane of Tarkir was bad, seeing them living like this would infuriate him beyond words. What would Sarkhan do once the initial shock of seeing his spirit animal (in more ways than one) reduced to pitiful scraps of life as lab rats, scared prey, and freak shows wears off? Let’s make it a game! Do you think Sarkhan will:

A. Cry.

B. Throw up.

C. Embrace this as a plane’s reality that he has no right to get involved with.

D. Scream.

E. Set something on fire.

F. Set everything on fire.

G. Bring back the dragons.

H. Burn the city to the ground with dragons.

I. Kill Niv-Mizzet.

J. All the above except “C”.

If you selected Answer “J”, then congratulations! You’ve just won a free trip to a BURNING METROPOLIS! Sarkhan will absolutely make it his life’s goal to bring dragons back to Ravnica and destroy the whole wretched city down to the last brick. How he would do it is up to you, but it’s a solid bet that even if every other Guild treats him like an apocalyptic madman, the Gruul might side with him over some shared beliefs in smashing the city apart with ferocious animal savagery. They tend to lean towards such ideas with uncharacteristic willful compliance. Ravnican dragons are primarily red, with the most prominent breed still remaining being the Utvara Hellkites beyond the city limits.

Oh, and Sarkhan can turn into a dragon, too. Have fun with that.

#ravnica for goblins #ravnica #goblins #d&d #dnd #dungeons and dragons #dragons #planeswalkers #mtg #campaign #roleplaying #tibalt #sarkhan #ashiok #garruk #fun ideas #guilds

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