#new year same fictional man obsession

[vanilladove]

❤︎ ₊ ⊹ get free (3/3)

pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: smut w/ plot + dark content; 18+ only pls!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: smut/nsfw, kidnapping, mentions of abuse + death, manipulation, violence, unhealthy relationships, infidelity (revenge hehe), slightly yandere!nikolai, dubious consent, husband yapping🤓

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: you've been kidnapped by your patient and taken to meet "dos" and another member of the doa. you notice someone familiar and are forced to make a quick decision. will you free yourself or stay in another man's cage? ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 1 & pt 2 & bonus (bad ending) ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 5.6k

Your head was pounding and your eyelids felt heavy, along with the intense soreness coursing through your body, especially on the left side of your waist. Trying to open your eyes through the blinding light, you could barely make out two figures in front of you--they looked like they were talking, so you tried to listen to the warped voices as much as you could with the remaining consciousness you could muster.

"Nikolai, I've meaning to ask you..." A deep, disinterested voice inquired. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"That? Don't be rude, Dos! This is Dove, I wrote to you about her in our letters, remember?" You could make out Nikolai's whines.

"Yes, but what use does she have for the Decay of Angels? If she's just another plaything, then she doesn't belong at the base. Besides, that woman is just another liability."

Nikolai sighed annoyedly, "She's my lover. I intend to keep her with me. I'm sure we can find a way for her to contribute later," he smirked, "I guess you wouldn't understand though...When's the last time you felt the touch of a woman, anyways?

You heard Dos scoff loudly at Nikolai's remark, "Fine, do what you like with her. Also, Sigma and I have finished getting information out of the target, so he's ready for disposal in the basement. He was a real pain to deal with."

Nikolai giggled at that, joking more with Dos. The exhaustion was taking over you again, though, so you couldn't keep yourself awake to glean anymore information from their conversation.

You heard the two men's voices fade out into the background as sleep overtook you once again.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

When you finally woke up, it was dim. You winced as you got up and took in your surroundings: the silk sheets you were under, a large bed, a spacious gothic-style room, cream curtains covering tall windows, and cuddled next to you...Nikolai?

You flinched lightly when you looked down to see his eyes staring directly into yours. He got up slowly and pulled you into his strong arms, moving the stray hairs--which had been mysteriously braided--out of your face and kissing your forehead lovingly. "How are you feeling, myla? Did some of the pain go away?"

You blushed as you felt his warm chest against you. He was shirtless, and all of the passionate hickeys you'd given him were exposed. Nikolai smirked cheekily when you stared at them for too long and watched your blush deepen when you realized you were wearing his white button up with nothing underneath. You looked so cute in the oversized shirt, so his.

Confusion coming back to you, you pulled away a bit, "Wait, Nikolai, where are we?" You frowned, last remembering being in the bath house, "The asylum...what happened?"

A sigh left his lips as he placed your head on his shoulder, "Well, after we had sex in the tub--by the way, you're pretty good at riding--" heat rose in your cheeks from his dirty comment, "back up was on their way and I didn't have enough time to explain things, so I needed to subdue you quickly for us to escape. That was why I had to use the tranquilizer on you. Sorry, you must've been shocked..." Nikolai stroked your hair softly, but you pulled back in bewilderment, staring into his softened eyes.

"Wait, why couldn't you just tell me that before? And how did you escape so fast? Where is this pl--" Nikolai cut you off suddenly, dramatically pressing a finger to your lips, "This is the Decay of Angel's temporary base...we're pretty far from the asylum and ran away like you wanted. I couldn't tell you anything because we needed to know if we could trust you." You tried to object at that, but your ex-patient only pushed his finger further to silence you. "And how we got here? Hmmm..." he paused to giggle manically, "Well, dove, that's a secret I can't tell yet...I'm a jester after all. I have tricks up my sleeve that I can't reveal to the audience--even to pretty girls like you~" You groaned as he replaced his finger with his lips and peppered kisses all over your flustered face.

He clearly wasn't telling you everything, but you didn't have any choice but to believe him. After all, you were still in one piece and out of the asylum, and he'd at least taken you to a nice place with silk sheets and roses. Nikolai wouldn't lie to you or harm you without a good reason, would he?

You pouted, "Fine, I believe you..." Nikolai grinned proudly and rolled off the bed. He stretched and threw you your black biker shorts and underwear that he'd pulled seemingly out of nowhere along with a loose white shirt that matched his uniform linen pants.

"Come on, pryntsesa, there's someone I want you to see."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You shakily stepped forward as Nikolai led you deeper into what seemed to be a basement. The walls were covered in pale bricks and dimly lit lanterns--keeping up with the medieval theme of the overall base. In the barely illuminated darkness, you could make out what looked like a jail cell. You kept trying to peer at Nikolai to ask him where exactly you were going and who he was taking you to see, but he only stared ahead with the same proud smirk on his face.

Maybe he was taking you to meet Sigma? Or the other members of the Decay of Angels? You shivered thinking about the fact you really were in their base; Nikolai's files had included that he used to work with a terrorist organization and the various atrocities they'd committed. Now that you were with them, you wondered if that made you a hostage or co-conspirator. You briefly recalled Dos mentioning "the target" in the basement. Was that who you were going to see?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you bumped into Nikolai's back, his soft braid tickling your nose. You muttered out a quiet apology as he flipped on a switch to brightly light up the jail cell you stood outside of. He turned slightly to face you and smiled gently at you as he brought you in front of him, putting his hands on your shoulders and making you blush. Some sudden cries grabbed your attention to what was in front of you, causing you to instinctively recoil at the familiar face staring back at you.

The boss of the asylum--your husband.

"Dear, is that you?" His raspy voice called out. Getting a full look at him, he looked worse than ever--sweaty disheveled hair clinging to his forehead; uniform tattered and stained with dirt, sweat, and what appeared to be ash; and a desperate, blown out expression on his face. You couldn't believe your eyes--Why was he here?

"T-that man kidnapped you, didn't he?" He got up from the floor and stepped closer in response to your silence, "L-look, I don't know w-what those terrorists told you, but that f-freak--" your husband shrieked, pointing at Nikolai but quickly bringing his finger down in fear, "--burned down the entire asylum and dragged us here. The new girls, the guards, they all got burned or severely injured." Your eyes widened as he started crying and wailing miserably, "A-and Lacey...sh-she's dead...what a brutal way to die...Oh God...Lacey--" The boss clutched his face as tears streamed down his face, mixing with the ash and further sullying his appearance.

Disgust and shock hit you, partly from the mess in front of you that was still reminiscing about the home wrecker he'd cheated on you with and partly because of the events you'd just learned--assuming your husband wasn't lying, Nikolai committing arson and presumably killing Lacey were details that he kept from you. You turned to face the jester, but he only kept his smile from earlier--eyes now devoid of warmth and stoically cold, gazing back into your dilated pupils before turning your head around back to the cell. You shuddered lightly: that was him confirming it was true.

Your husband's eyes twitched at your lack of reaction. He abruptly lunged towards the jail cell, clinging onto the cell bars and struggling against them to try to reach out to you. You screamed as his arm extended in your direction, and Nikolai stepped back to wrap his arms protectively around you, pulling you into his chest.

Your husband was banging against the bars, "Please! L-listen to me, darling!" You cringed at the fake nickname. "Forgive me for what I did in the past and save me--I'm sure h-help's coming. After this, I-I'll...buy you a new car and w-we can go on a nice vacation, start a f-family--start over, y'know?" He gave you a distraught smile, and you cringed at his pathetic display of promises. There was absolutely no way you could willingly go back to a man who'd abused and betrayed you.

Snot was now falling down his nose as he tried to fix his hair and steady his voice; he was practically yelling at you now. "Look, I'm sorry for cheating on you. Lacey was just too tempting...but I regret it, a-and now I know that I really love you." You weren't convinced, he was clearly just trying to save face. "S-shit!" He clanged against the bars again, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping them, "I'm trying to apologize to you, dear. I love you--I'm wearing my ring for fuck's sake! C-can't you see that that freak's manipulating you?" He tried to make eye contact again with the white-haired man in front of him, but only cowered back in fright after meeting his intimidating gaze.

You could sense Nikolai glaring back as he tightened his grip around you. It made you frown seeing your husband trying to act like he knew everything about your relationship...Nikolai wasn't manipulating you; he loved you in the way your unfaithful husband never could.

"What are you talking about?" You asked sadly, completely shattering whatever pitiful resolve your husband had left. He gasped horribly and fell to his knees, realizing that you were too far gone, too in love with Gogol.

He stopped when he looked up and noticed your bare neck. "Your ring...why isn't your necklace on?" You traced around the empty space, feeling how light it was now that it was gone. Nikolai smirked in response.

"I--"

"She doesn't need it anymore." Nikolai replied darkly, cutting you off. He laughed a bit, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. He turned to you, startling you a bit. "Actually, you threw it away yourself, didn't you, dove? 'Cause you don't love him anymore." You nodded affirmatively, exasperating your husband even more as he resumed his sobs. Nikolai only curled his lip up coyly at his reaction and brought one of hands down to stroke your inner thigh provocatively as another brought your chin up to kiss you passionately. Heat flowed throughout your body as you blushed deeply. You couldn't tell how much time passed as you felt dizzy after he slipped his tongue in. The anguished cries in the background were drowned out as Nikolai pulled away slowly, making you flustered from the string of saliva left behind.

He licked his lips satisfyingly and gave you a peck before whispering in your ear, "Go on, ptashka, tell him how you feel."

Flush still on your cheeks, you looked directly at your old partner, who was now shaking in agony, "He's right--he's not manipulating me, either. I'm not yours anymore, and I don't want our old life back. I--" Nikolai was still stroking your thigh and was dangerously close to your panties. "I--mmh--I'm in love with Kolya now, and I want to be with him." You missed the pink on Nikolai's face as you saw your husband practically collapse, banging on the ground as he bawled awfully.

"Y-you fucking slut! How could you betray me like this? A-nd your p-parents--w-what would they think about this?" You backed away from the cell, bothered by his yelling. You wished he would shut up already.

Your husband's rambling was stopped suddenly as the sound of a gun cocking reverberated off the brick walls. It was from Nikolai. He placed it in your hands while gazing into your eyes sincerely. "Dove, you've been trapped in this man's cage--stuck on a ride you want to get off, but you keep riding. I want you to decide...If you want to keep playing his game or live your own life."

Your eyes widened at that. This was your chance to change your life and free yourself from the burden of your old life. There was no more chasing rainbows and hoping for an end to them, no more waiting for an inconsiderate man to love you. There was no sure promise of a better life if you saved him and went back to him...

Shit, what the hell were you thinking about? Could you really kill someone by yourself so easily?

Brain an absolute conflicting mess, you felt like you had a war in your mind. You couldn't think clearly as your thoughts jumbled together, and the intensity of the cold metal was making you unsteady. Nikolai noticed and wrapped his warm hand around your shaky one, bringing it up to aim at your husband's head.

"Do you want him gone, myla?" He whispered into your ear, placing your finger over the trigger. "All you have to do is shoot, and it'll all be over." His soft whispers drowned out the sound of your husband begging for his life and backing away desperately in the background. Nikolai gave you the same warm smile as before and his usually dull right green eye was sparkling with emotion. In a strange way, it was comforting, reminding you that you weren't alone.

You didn't remember much after that, just feeling the gun go off and Nikolai's hand over yours, followed by a deafening silence. You winced as you felt something wet against the side of your skin and blood splattered across Nikolai's white clothes. You didn't dare look at your own shirt. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, and you swore you were about to explode. Nikolai was grinning and laughing maniacally, while you could barely register your own emotions. You slowly turned your head to peer into the cell, but Nikolai put his hand out to block your sight. It was probably for the better, anyways. The stillness already confirmed your husband was dead.

Instead, Nikolai put his hands around your face and crashed his lips onto yours possessively. You closed your eyes as he muttered sweet nothings in between kisses and wrapped your arms around his torso, collapsing as your body slowly gave out and the gun dropped to the floor.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Nikolai kissed your forehead gently again as he wrapped a warm towel around your shivering body. After leaving the murder scene, you'd taken a shower together. You guessed it was like 'washing away your crimes' and getting clean again. It was strange, despite how lovesick he was over you, he didn't touch you sexually at all while washing your body. You thanked him and mustered up a small smile as you turned away from towards the mirror.

"Are you still shaken up, myla?" From your--no, our--first kill?" You stared into your reflection and looked down, basically giving him your answer. "It's okay, it's human to feel guilt and remorse after a death...even a horrible monster like me still feels that way, too!" He beamed at you, giggling contagiously.

You pouted back at him, feeling a slight burden lifted off of you, "Don't call yourself that--you're my lover now..." You mumbled, blushing slightly. You could love each other openly now.

He smirked and hugged your waist, the fabric of his clean white button-up--unbuttoned and exposing his toned six pack--and black slacks pressing against your skin. He'd gotten ready while you were spacing out in front of the fogged-up mirror, but you couldn't help stopping to admire how handsome he was.

"Ahhhh, I almost forgot...I never told you why I fell in love with you in the first place, did I, dove? You looked up at him curiously and he kissed the tip of your nose, "It's because you reminded me of my past self. Unknowingly in a cage, slightly different from the rest--I still remember the pretty little smile you flashed me the day we met and how sweetly you treated me...kinda unprofessional by the way...flirting with a crazy man..." Nikolai slowly trailed his kisses over your jaw and down your neck, making you start to feel warm inside, "I wanted to free you from the control of the outside world...I could tell you already had the willingness to change and just needed a small push." You yelped as Nikolai bit down softly to mark your collarbone and dropped the towel from your body.

You instinctively tried to cover up your body, but Nikolai stopped your arms, placing them on the rim of the sink instead. His hands left your waist to fondle your tit, drawing circles around the hardened bud while his other hand crept down your stomach to slip over your slit. A familiar rose dusted your cheeks as he kissed your neck softly and a moan slipped out from you, "A-ahhh, K-Kolya..." He nudged your jaw up towards the mirror.

The fog had evaporated away, so you could now see your reflection. To see yourself in such a lewd, shameless state, completely naked while Nikolai was basically fully dressed was...you couldn't describe it. He tenderly kissed your skin again before grinning at the mirror and taking his hand off your chest to lift up your face.

"Look how cute you are, dove. You really love my touch, huh~?" He pulled his slick-covered fingers out from your thighs and licked them clean. Watching him do it through the mirror was an enticing sight: it made you want more. Nikolai wasn't oblivious to your slight panting and trembling either. "Watch clearly as I make love to you, pryntsesa." His fingers dipped back into your cunt, parting your folds as his middle finger slipped inside of you while his thumb played with your clit. His other hand resumed massaging your breasts as he licked down his trail of kisses. You couldn't help but mewl at his actions, getting wetter watching the sight in front of you.

It was strange, he was typically rough and forward, but he was unusually soft with you this time. You didn't have time to think about why as he inserted another finger and went at a slightly faster pace, making you start to rock your hips against his hand. You moaned as the sensation coursed through your lower half, fingers gripping the rim of the sink and ass arching into his back, making you blush when you brushed against his clothed bulge.

"Mmmm~Kolya...your fingers...they're--ahh--s'good--"

"Y-yeah? You like 'em, pretty girl?" He heaved into your ear. He wanted to be gentle with you today, but the sight of you in the mirror and the way you were moaning his name so angelically was making him more hot and bothered than he wanted to admit. "C-cum whenever you want, 'kay?" Nikolai pumped his fingers more intensely into you, needy to make you finish as you struggled against his hold, the pressure making you lose balance and lean forward. He sturdied you against his chest again and captured your lips to pull you into a deep kiss, your tongues wrapping around each other.

The coil in your stomach got tighter as his long fingers pressed against your sweet spot, and his pointer and thumb coming together to pinch your sensitive clit finally sent you over the edge. You cried out his name as you came all over his fingers, staining the front of his pants and shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Nikolai gently kissed away your tears as you came down from your high, hugging your waist and caressing your sides.

You gasped as you heard him unzipping his damp slacks, and you looked in the mirror, your eyes traveling straight down to his hardened member. Nikolai started stroking his length slowly, pale pink tip sticky with pre-cum, as he lowly groaned your name. "S-sorry dove, I--fuck--wanted to play with you more, but I--ah--can't wait any longer..." Heat went straight to your core upon hearing that.

"I-it's fine, p-put it in..." You looked back at him sweetly before parting your folds with your pretty nails, and he grunted after seeing some of your arousal drip down your thighs.

"F-fuck, myla, you're so beautiful~" You hissed at the feeling of Nikolai teasing past your slit before entering you slowly. Even though he'd prepped you more than last time, you still whimpered lightly from the stretch, secretly making him smirk pridefully. He silenced your moans with another gentle kiss as he started thrusting inside of you, lewd sounds bouncing off the walls. Both of his hands went back to your tits to play with them again as he broke away from the kiss, groaning into your neck as he pushed deeper into your pussy. It wasn't enough for him, though.

He lifted your leg up slightly and bent it slightly at an angle before drilling his cock harder into your cunt, your hands pressing close to the mirror as your back arched, so he could go deeper inside you. Nikolai groaned and bit his lip as your walls clenched around his length. He soothed your pleasured cries by kissing down your back, pressing his abs against your hot skin. The foggy reflection of your tits bouncing up and down with his movements and the fucked-out expression on your face made him moan lowly, praising you for taking him so well.

You whined at the tight feeling in your core as your pussy sucked in his cock. The feeling was so good you were moving your hips back and forth to meet his thrusts, ass recoiling perfectly in response. Nikolai was still hyper-focused on leaving hickeys on your skin and squeezing your tender nipples, and his hot breath tickling your neck was driving you crazy. He groaned as you squeezed his length again, pre-cum starting to leave a creamy ring at the base of his cock.

"A-ahh~ I'm close--keep going, p-please--" You begged, desperate to cum and hoping he wouldn't edge you like last time. He smirked, pleased by how needy you were. He nodded, locking you in another messy kiss as his free hand traveled down to your hips. Nikolai pulled away from you slightly before re-entering you harshly, making you see stars.

You choked on your moans as you whimpered his name, pussy clenching around him even more. He was breathing heavily, and his thrusts were getting slower and messier, signaling that he was close, too. You got up slightly on your elbows and looked back at him affectionately, "I love you, Nikolai."

His eyes widened as he pulled your back against his chiseled stomach and buried his face into the crook of your neck, secretly blushing like crazy. His strong arms came back to wrap around your waist, making you yelp when you felt him all the way inside you. "L-love you, too, dove~" He rasped quietly as he came in your pretty cunt.

The warmth made you moan as you followed with your second orgasm, panting at the euphoric sensation. Only Nikolai could make you feel like this. He pulled out slowly and turned your fragile body around towards him, hugging you intimately and kissing your forehead softly. He tucked your damp hair behind your ear and kissed the spot again, "You did so good, myla." You hugged him back, nuzzling into his chest and blushing when you heard his frantic heartbeat.

"I'm so happy you're mine now..." He whispered quietly, kissing your head again before steadying you against the sink to wet a towel and clean himself off. Nikolai bent down a bit to wipe you down, and you impulsively ruffled his fluffy white hair, making him giggle and plant a small kiss on your inner thigh. You smiled adoringly.

So he has his soft moments, too, huh.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Your and Nikolai's hands were intertwined as he led you to a grand dining room. Apparently, you were supposed to have dinner and meet two other members of the Decay of Angels. You fidgeted nervously as you approached the grand dining table, which was decorated with gold candelabras and a cream cloth table runner. Despite the warm decorations, the room still had a slight eerie feel.

The two men seated at the end of the dining table looked up at you. Nikolai had given you some fresh clothes, lending you one of his oversized chunky cream sweaters and a silk midi skirt that he'd quickly sewn out of the sheets. From the occasion, you'd learned about his surprising little hobby. On the other hand, he kept on his white button-up--now loosely buttoned--and just changed into a different pair of black and white striped pants.

Nikolai placed his hand on your waist and beamed excitedly, "Sigma, Dos, meet Dove! She's my lover and is going to be staying with us from now on!" He pushed you forward a bit and you nervously bowed.

"N-nice to meet you both. Thanks for accepting me, and I hope we all get along." You cursed yourself mentally for not coming off as confident as you wanted, but you couldn't help but crack slightly under the two men's stares.

Dos, who was sitting at the head of the table merely sneered silently and continued glaring at you as you sat down next to Nikolai. The man sitting across from you offered you a bashful smile instead, "N-nice to meet you, too. I'm Sigma." You smiled back at him, secretly grateful that he was trying to cut the tension.

Nikolai clapped his hands, "Okay, we've gotten introductions out of the way! Let's eat now~" Your eyes drifted to the bowl of pelmeni soup and borodinsky bread in front of you. To be honest, you were starving but concerned since Dos hadn't touched his food at all and was still intently staring you down.

Sigma cleared his throat and spoke up again, "Y-you can eat the food. It isn't poisoned or anything. Ivan made it." Ivan? You didn't know who that was, but you nodded and thanked him quietly, trying a spoonful of the soup. You wished you could just scarf it down, but you decided to eat in a ladylike manner as to leave a good impression.

You weren't quite sure if you'd impressed Dos, though, who had finally introduced himself as Fyodor Dostoyevsky a few minutes later, resting his chin on his linked hands.

"Welcome. We're the Decay of Angels, a terrorist organization that commits murders and causes great fear and suffering--find a way to make yourself useful or you'll be disposed of--" He stared straight into your eyes, "--by me personally." Your heartbeat increased in fear and your hands went slightly clammy upon hearing that.

Nikolai put down his spoon, "Oi! Be a bit more gentle with her, will you?" Fyodor's gaze left you and he turned to Nikolai, "I know this is the first woman you've interacted with face-to-face in years, but you're already threatening her? Seriously? No wonder you're single..."

Fyodor's eyebrow twitched in response as Sigma turned away, obviously trying to stifle a laugh, and he and Nikolai glared daggers at each other. You hid your face in embarrassment as Fyodor scoffed annoyedly and dismissed himself from the table, taking his dinner with him. So much for getting along.

"God, he hates me now...he's probably going to murder me in my sleep..." You looked sadly at Nikolai, but he only grinned snidely.

"Don't worry about it, ptashka, Dos is just like that. Anyways, the mood's lightened up so much now that he's gone, right?" He giggled maniacally--unserious as always. Sigma chimed in as well, trying to cheer you up,

"Y-yeah! To be honest, I haven't spoken to him much, either, and I've been here for a while. He's just the serious, loner type." You weren't convinced fully, which he noticed. "I-I'm the general manager of the sky casino." You looked up and nodded, hearing about it before--a luxurious place for people to gamble away their fortunes and essentially be ungoverned and off-the-grid. "If you're not doing anything tomorrow, why don't you come and visit? I'll give you some money, on the house!" You perked up at that, taking up Sigma on his offer, much to his relief.

"I'll be going, too, just so you know." Nikolai butted in, making Sigma sigh and tell Nikolai he wasn't invited didn't have to come with. The two bickered back and forth, Nikolai being insistent on going to the casino with you two.

You giggled at that, they were just like real friends. Perhaps your stay here wouldn't be too bad--at least now one more person liked you. Sigma and Nikolai stopped arguing after hearing you laugh and looked at each other before smiling softly at you. You yelped as Nikolai jumped at you suddenly to attack your face with kisses, making Sigma cringe.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You'd finished dinner with Nikolai and Sigma, successfully being cheered up from the previous tension. It wasn't too long-lived though, as Nikolai had asked you to get Fyodor's dirty dishes. You tried to object, but he'd simply just waved his hand at you while he resumed washing the dishes with Sigma.

Knocking on the door to Dos's room, you hesitantly cleared your throat and spoke, "Can I come in? I just need to get your dishes." You heard him shuffle around and click his tongue,

"The door's unlocked. Come in." You gulped before turning the knob and entering. The stone room was cold and barren, with the only 'decoration' being a table holding several different monitors and keyboards. The room was only lit by the screens, which were circling with code and all sorts of data. Fyodor didn't even try to acknowledge your presence or turn around, so you just tried to step around the various cords on the floor and grab his bowl in front of him.

He was reading a book in his chair and still didn't speak a word, but you could feel his glares cutting into the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You grabbed the bowl and turned back around--again trying to avoid stepping on any cords--and your eyes curiously tried to see what book he was reading.

He rotated his chair briefly, "You know, being a housewife isn't--"

"Crime and Punishment?! Oh, I remember reading that book in the asylum's library. It's a great commentary on the transformative power of guilt and the possibility of redemption, isn't it?" You chirped, instantly regretting your impulsive input on the book. Why did you have to be such a bookworm?

Fyodor's eyes widened slightly as he closed his mouth, truly caught off-guard, "Yes, it is." He went back to his book as you shyly smiled and made your way through the cords, back finally turned away from him. He paused, "You can borrow it if you like. I can give it to you tomorrow after breakfast."

You stopped in your tracks, turning your head slightly. You were only met with the sight of his chair, though. "R-really? T-that would be nice, actually...Thank you." You trailed slowly towards the door before leaving. "G-goodnight!" Flustered, you closed the door quickly, missing him saying it back and the pale rose that was dusting his cheeks.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Life with the Decay of Angels had been going surprisingly well. It had been two months since Nikolai had taken you to the base, and you'd adjusted in that time span.

You got close with Sigma, who admitted he was a bit intimidated and scared of you at first because you were Nikolai's lover, but he was relieved you weren't exactly like him. Fyodor had become more open and accepting of you, and you both mostly connected over the literature he would share with you. Nikolai tried to keep you away from him as much as possible, though he would never tell you why...

You had become a decoy of sorts and helped Nikolai on the ground with disguises and espionage. Currently, you were both infiltrating Mersault. You had learned that the true reason for Nikolai coming to the asylum was to get a hold of the space-creating ability that both Mersault and the asylum were built with. Fyodor was hoping to harness it to build a secret, impenetrable base for the Decay of Angels.

Criminal profiling and socialization skills from your previous attendant position had come in handy when going undercover, along with your "feminine charm" that none of the other members possessed. Of course, Nikolai was all too excited to have you working with him, never missing the chance for quickies or subtle flirting and teasing. You couldn't exactly say that you hated it, though...

Whenever you walked around in public, you would occasionally see a "missing" poster with your face and information on it. You would always discreetly rip up and toss them, though, having no desire to be found or go back to your old life.

After all, you'd finally crossed the threshold from the ordinary world to a new life with your true lover. You'd been freed, and you were never going back.

˚₊‧꒰ა bad ending໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[lovelyspring7]

White Pearl | Yandere JJK x Reader

Summary: You’ve been working as a str1pper for a month until billionaire Jeon Jungkook suddenly takes an interest in you, actually maybe too much of an interest…

Word count: 7,6k

Genre: Yandere, sugar daddy au

Pairing: CEO Sugar daddy Jungkook x str1pper sugar baby reader, short mentions of Cha Eunwoo & Jung Jaehyun.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, abuse of power, fight scene, non consensual touching, mentions of a dead father.

Disclaimer: This type of content is not suitable for all audiences and I do not condone any of the presented behaviours. This is purely for entertainment and fictional purposes and I don’t think any BTS member would act like this.

Authors note: Okay I’m really proud of how this turned out! I really hope you enjoy reading it! Don’t be a silent reader, show some support and feedback!☺️💜

Read Part 2 Here | Read Part 3 Here

In three days, Jeon Jungkook will become the heir of his deceased father’s successful real estate company. Jungkooks fate was written from the moment he was born, it was only a matter of time before it happened. The old man had it coming, drinking aged scotch and smoking the finest Cuban cigars since he could remember.

Jungkook has never been close with his parents. He despised them. His parents wanted nothing to do with him, his only purpose was to take over his father’s company, and Jungkook knew that. That’s why he wasted no time trying to get closer to his parents. It was no use. They made that very clear when they sent 7-year-old Jungkook to a prestigious boarding school with other rich snobs.

Although, being an only child, rich and privileged. All he had to do was to snap his fingers and he’d get what he wanted almost immediately.

The newest expensive car? Check.

Private jets? Check.

Luxury real estate? Check.

You could say he had it all, at least the materialistic stuff.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Jeon,” Eunwoo said with his usual charm, offering a polite nod to Jungkook’s mother.

She barely reacted, her lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you, Eunwoo. Jungkook’s inside.” Her voice was light, devoid of grief. Eunwoo nodded before he entered the study, Jaehyun trailing behind.

“Hey, Kook,” Jaehyun said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

Jungkook didn’t look up. Instead, he swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light. “I’m fine.”

“Your mom seems fine too,” Jaehyun added, his voice tinged with disbelief. He perched on the edge of the desk, glancing at Eunwoo.

“So,” Eunwoo began, leaning casually against the wall. “How much did you inherit, exactly?”

Jungkook smirked. “A lot.”

Jaehyun grinned. “Lucky bastard. Hey, how about we grab a drink? Celebrate your, uh, newfound wealth.”

“Sure,” Eunwoo added, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Or we could check out that new club. You know, the one with the strippers? Rumor has it they’ll do anything for the right price.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You’re seriously suggesting we hit a strip club the same day as my father’s funeral?”

Jaehyun shrugged. “Excess was his thing, wasn’t it? You’re just keeping tradition alive.”

The comment shouldn’t have amused Jungkook, but it did. He pushed himself up from the chair, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “You’re both idiots.”

“But we’re your idiots,” Jaehyun said with a wink, throwing an arm around Eunwoo as they headed for the door. “Be there by eleven. And bring cash! Lots of it!”

﹉﹉﹉

“You’re late,” Bora called, not even looking up as she leaned toward the mirror, expertly reapplying her cherry-red lipstick. The fluorescent lights of the dressing room buzzed softly overhead.

“Yeah, I had to submit an assignment early today,” you replied, shrugging off your jacket and pulling your hair back. The soreness in your shoulders hadn’t left since your morning shift at the café.

Bora glanced at you in the mirror, her eyebrows raising as she watched you strip down to your work attire, a sparkling two-piece that felt far too bold against your skin. “Girl, you’re gonna burn yourself out at this rate. You know that, right?”

You shrugged, forcing a smile as you strapped on your pink glitter heels. “Gotta pay rent somehow.”

It has been a month since you started working at Black Pearl Club. When the bartender job didn’t pan out, stripping felt like your only option. Temporary, you’d told yourself. Just until you graduate, just until you get out of debt. But every time you caught your reflection in the dressing room mirror, the weight of it all made your stomach turn.

“Okay, well, hurry up. It’s getting crazy out there,” Bora said, as she fluffed her hair. “All the big spenders are here tonight.”

“Just give me five minutes,” you replied, swiping on mascara.

Before Bora could respond, her eyes widened, and she let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” you asked, startled, almost smudging your makeup.

“It’s freaking Jeon Jungkook,” she hissed, peeking through the cracked door. Her voice was breathless with excitement, like she’d just spotted a celebrity, which, apparently, she had.

“Who?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Bora whipped her head around to gape at you. “You can’t be serious. Jeon Jungkook. The heir to Jeon Real Estate? Rich, sexy, and way too powerful for his own good?”

Your blank expression didn’t change, so she sighed dramatically. “Never mind. Just know he’s loaded. And he brought Cha Eunwoo and Jung Jaehyun with him. Jackpot.”

She tugged her top down a little lower, adjusted her already perfect hair, and shot you a wink. “Don’t wait too long, or the girls will snatch them up. But not before I do.” With that, she was gone, strutting confidently out the door.

You rolled your eyes playfully, muttering to yourself. “Wow. The power of Bora.”

Taking one last glance at your reflection, you squared your shoulders and stepped out onto the floor. The music hit you immediately, a deep, pulsing rhythm that matched the sway of bodies on the dimly lit stage. You moved cautiously, still new to this world and its unspoken rules. You weren’t like Bora or the other dancers, who walked with easy confidence, drawing men like moths to a flame. No, you stayed in the background, lingering by tables, feeding shots to customers, even helping to clean up spilled drinks.

The pole? That was for the pros. You didn’t dare try it on nights like this.

“Hey,” a voice called out, cutting through the music. It was low, smooth, with just a hint of amusement.

You turned, and your stomach dropped when you saw him. His dark eyes glinted under the club’s shifting neon lights, framed by long lashes that softened the sharp angles of his face. Tattoos peeked out from the sleeves of his tailored blazer, and a silver chain glinted against his silk shirt. He looked like he didn’t belong here, like he owned the place.

“Excuse me?” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“How’d you end up here?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. His smirk was small, almost playful, but there was something in his gaze that made you uneasy. “You don’t look like the type.”

You crossed your arms, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Listen, sir, I don’t know what kind of weird roleplay you’re into, but I’m not interested.”

He laughed softly, the sound rich and low. “Wait, hold on,” he said, stepping in front of you before you could turn away. “I’ll pay you a thousand bucks just to sit on my lap.”

You blinked, startled by the casual audacity. “A thousand? For just that?”

“Exactly that, Princess,” he said, holding out his hand. His confidence was infuriating, but something about it also intrigued you. Against your better judgment, you took his hand.

He led you to a private VIP room, the scent of leather and faint cologne trailing after him. The room was as luxurious as you’d imagined, matt black walls, plush velvet furniture, and crimson LED lights casting everything in a sultry glow. A strip pole stood in the center, glinting under the chandelier above.

No wonder it cost a fortune to reserve, you thought. He sank into a chair, pulling you onto his lap with a fluid motion that left you unsteady. One hand rested lightly on your thigh, the other brushing against your waist as if it belonged there. You hesitated, unsure of where to place your own hands, before finally draping them around his neck.

For the first time, you took him in fully. His face was almost unreal, sharp jawline, perfectly shaped lips, and those dark, doe-like eyes that seemed to pierce through you.

“You’re staring,” he said, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice.

“Shut up,” you muttered, looking away. “It’s not that impressive.”

He laughed again, soft and deep, sending a shiver down your spine. “So, what’s your story?” he asked, his tone casual.

“What do you think?” you replied, your voice tight. “Student debt, rent, crappy part-time jobs. Same story, different girl.”

He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “No,” he said finally. “You’re different.”

“Right,” you scoffed. “Let me guess, I’m not like other girls?”

“You’re more of a white pearl,” he said, his voice softer now. “Innocent. Beautiful. Out of place.”

Your breath caught as he tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your skin. “You don’t belong here.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“I watched you, you know,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. “The whole time. You’re not cut out for this.”

You swallowed hard, heat rising in your cheeks. “What do you want from me?”

“A chance,” he said simply. “To show you something better.”

You blinked, “Show me something better?” you repeated, a flicker of disbelif in your voice. “What does that even mean?”

His lips curved into a small smile, one that didn’t offer answers but promises. “It means you shouldn’t have to do this,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

His hand, warm and deliberate, slid slightly higher on your thigh. The touch was slow, too slow. His thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin. The warmth of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of your outfit, and you froze, unsure of what to do.

Your breath got a bit faster, and he noticed.

“Easy now,” he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue like silk. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, your voice steadier than you felt. But your hands, still resting on his shoulders, betrayed you with their light tremble.

“Are you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. His other hand drifted up, brushing against your waist as if testing your boundaries. His gaze pinned you in place, dark and unreadable. “You’re tense.”

“You don’t exactly make it easy to relax,” you shot back, trying to mask your nerves with sarcasm.

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “Fair enough,” he said, his thumb continuing its slow, rhythmic strokes against your thigh. “But I don’t think that’s the whole story.”

You didn’t respond, unsure how to answer without giving too much away. The truth was, his touch wasn’t unwelcome, but it was overwhelming, like he was peeling back layers you weren’t ready to expose.

“Let me guess,” he said, his voice dropping a notch. “You’ve been fighting to stay afloat. Juggling school, work, life. And this place? It’s just survival, isn’t it?”

You stiffened, his words cutting too close to the truth. “You don’t know anything about me,” you said, but your voice lacked its intended bite.

His smile deepened, his fingers pausing for a moment before resuming their soft, hypnotic movements. “I know enough,” he said, his tone almost gentle. “Enough to see you’re not like the others.”

His words hung between you, heavy and undeniable. You swallowed hard, your throat dry, as his hand slid up just an inch more. It wasn’t invasive, it wasn’t even inappropriate, but the intent behind it was unmistakable. He was testing you, seeing how far you’d let him go.

“You’re bold,” you said, trying to regain control of the situation, though your voice betrayed your unease. “Does this whole act usually work for you?”

He laughed again, soft and rich, his head tilting back slightly. “It’s not an act,” he said, his gaze snapping back to yours, sharp and unwavering. “I know what I want.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, your heart thudding painfully in your chest.

His hand on your waist tightened slightly, anchoring you in place. “You.”

The single word sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you were certain he could feel it. His confidence, his touch, the way he looked at you, it was all too much, too consuming. You weren’t sure if you wanted to run or stay exactly where you were.

“You don’t even know me,” you said, but the words came out softer than you intended, almost a whisper.

“I will,” he replied simply, his voice steady, as if the answer was obvious. “If you let me.”

The weight of his words pressed against you, leaving no room for pretense. He wasn’t asking for permission. He was laying a claim, one you weren’t sure you could fight.

“I can’t,” you said finally, shaking your head. “This… whatever this is, it’s not me.”

His smile didn’t falter. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “You don’t have to decide now,” he murmured. “But I’ll make you an offer.”

“What kind of offer?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Be my escort,” he said, his tone calm and measured, as though he were offering you a business deal. His thumb pressed a little harder into your thigh, the heat of his hand impossible to ignore. “Not the kind you’re thinking,” he added when your eyes widened. “Think of it like a sugar baby. Parties, events, dinners. No strings attached, just company.”

You swallowed, your mind racing. The word sugar baby sounded ridiculous, almost laughable, but the way he said it made it sound like a lifeline, a way out of this mess you called life.

“I’ll pay you well,” he continued, his fingers giving a soft squeeze to your thigh for emphasis. “Up to a couple thousands of dollars an hour.”

Your breath caught, and his smirk returned, knowing he had your attention now.

“You don’t even know me,” you said again, your voice weaker this time.

“But I want to,” he replied, leaning back against the chair as if he had all the time in the world. “So, what do you say, Princess? Ready to let me take care of you?”

You stared at him, your mind a whirl of doubt, disbelief, and something far more dangerous: temptation.

“What’s the catch?” you asked, still skeptical. Your voice was steady, but your fingers tightened around the edge of your outfit.

His smile curved slowly, his confidence as unshakable as the air of control that seemed to follow him. “No catch,” he said, his tone light, but his eyes sharp. “You show up when I need you, and I’ll make sure you never have to worry about rent or student loans again.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you said, your voice softer now, though you fought to keep your composure. “Why me?”

His smirk widened, and for a moment, his gaze flicked over you, “Because you’re different,” he said finally, leaning forward just enough to close the space between you. “You don’t belong in a place like this.”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. His words felt like a challenge.

“I don’t know,” you said, shaking your head. “This… it feels like a bad idea.”

He leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. His hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, his fingers pressing just enough to keep you close to him. “Sometimes the best ideas start out feeling wrong,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Let me prove it to you.”

His gaze dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second before flicking back to your eyes, and the air between you seemed to crackle with tension. You hated how easily he seemed to unravel you, how your body betrayed you with every shallow breath and unsteady heartbeat.

“Okay,” you said finally, the word slipping out before you could stop it. “But I’m not doing anything I’m uncomfortable with. No strings, remember?”

“No strings,” his voice echoed. It was steady, composed, and carried an air of finality. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a sleek silver pen and a small leather checkbook. The movement was precise, deliberate, like everything else about him.

He flipped it open, his gaze flicking to you briefly before he began to write. “I’ll arrange a meeting tomorrow,” he said, his voice a soft command. The sound sent a faint shiver down your spine. “We’ll go over the details.”

The scratch of the pen against the paper, each stroke deliberate as he signed his name with a flourish. He tore the check free, and held it out to you.

You hesitated before taking it, your fingers brushing against his, a spark that lingered even as you looked down at the paper in your hand.

One thousand dollars.

The number stared back at you, bold and undeniable, written in his confident hand. Below it, his signature sprawled across the bottom with an elegance that felt almost intimidating. It was real.

“You don’t waste time, do you?” you said, your voice faint as your fingers tightened around the check.

He leaned back against the chair, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I never do,” he replied smoothly. His eyes dipped to your hand, watching the way you held the check as though it might slip through your fingers. “Consider it a gesture of good faith. A down payment.”

You glanced back at him, your breath catching when his gaze met yours, dark, intense, and filled with something you couldn’t quite name. His hand slid to your thigh one last time, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. The touch was almost teasing.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Princess,” he said, his voice low and velvety.

Before you could respond, he stood, easing you off his lap with a care that felt almost... tender. He straightened his suit jacket, adjusting the cuffs with the kind of precision that only added to his air of control. As he glanced back at you, his faint smile deepened.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said simply, and then he was gone, disappearing through the door with a confidence that left no room for doubt.

You sat there for a moment, the check clutched tightly in your hand, the air in the room still heavy with his scent. You unfolded the check again, your eyes scanning it absentmindedly, until they caught on the name at the bottom.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your breath caught. No way.

Your mind raced, torn between disbelief and temptation.

Was this your way out, or a mistake?

The check felt heavy in your hand, a stark reminder of the offer he’d made. His touch still lingered on your skin, his words replaying in your mind. Dangerous. Tempting.

And maybe, just maybe, it was worth the risk.

﹉﹉﹉

You had just finished your lecture and were ready to head back to your apartment, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. Between work and school, the weight of your schedule felt suffocating. You rubbed your eyes in a futile attempt to shake off the sleepiness, your vision adjusting just in time to spot a sleek black Bugatti pulling into the campus parking lot.

The sight stopped you in your tracks.

The driver’s door opened smoothly, and out stepped Jeon Jungkook.

He looked different today, less polished but somehow more striking. Gone was the formal suit from last night, replaced by a black silk blouse that glinted faintly in the sunlight, tucked neatly into tailored trousers. The silver chain around his neck caught the light, matching the glint of his piercings. Even casual, he radiated a confidence that turned heads.

Your stomach twisted as he walked up the stairs toward you, his steps purposeful and deliberate. He greeted you with a smile, his undeniable charm radiating effortlessly.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice smooth.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “How did you know where I go to school?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “I have my ways.”

The evasiveness of his answer annoyed you, but before you could press him further, he extended his hand, the second time this week he’d done so, with the same quiet authority. Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, his touch warm and firm.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

“And I won’t,” he replied, his smirk deepening as he led you toward the car.

You felt the weight of curious stares from other students as you walked across the lot. Jungkook didn’t seem to notice, or care. For once, though, their judgment didn’t faze you. You felt… safe.

He opened the passenger door for you, his hand brushing lightly against the small of your back as he helped you in. The gesture was brief but lingered in your thoughts as he closed the door behind you and moved to the driver’s seat.

The ride was quiet, save for the faint hum of the radio. You stared out the window, unsure if the silence between you was comforting or unsettling. Every so often, you could feel his eyes flick toward you, but he said nothing, his focus mostly on the road.

The tension in your chest grew as the car slowed in front of a towering building that looked more like something out of a movie than reality. Glass windows stretched skyward, gleaming against the sunlight, and the sheer size of it left you momentarily speechless.

“Where are we?” you finally asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

“My place,” Jungkook replied, parking the car. He exited swiftly, circling to your side to open your door before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Come on,” he said, his hand outstretched once more.

You took it, allowing him to guide you to the entrance. He typed in a code at the door, his movements smooth and practiced, and the lock clicked open with a quiet beep.

When the door to his penthouse swung open, you couldn’t suppress your reaction. The space was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. The minimalist decor was luxurious without being ostentatious, each piece of furniture carefully chosen to complement the space.

“Like what you see so far?” he asked, amusement dancing in his voice as he placed his hand lightly on your back, guiding you toward a sleek office space.

You nodded, unable to find the right words. The room smelled faintly of leather and something vanilla, a scent you were beginning to associate with him.

He gestured for you to sit across from his desk. “So, where were we, Princess?” he said, pulling out a file from the desk drawer.

“You said there were rules,” you reminded him as you ignored the nickname, your voice sharper now as the reality of the situation set in.

“Right,” Jungkook said, pulling out a sheet of paper and sliding it across the desk toward you. “They’re simple. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Your eyes scanned the document, your eyebrows furrowing as you read:

Rule 1: Until the contract expires, you’ll be living with Jeon Jungkook.

Your head snapped up. “What?!”

“Hm? What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his expression calm.

“I can’t live here!” you said, your voice rising. “I have an apartment. And it’s too far from school. And my jobs-”

“About that,” he interrupted, his tone still infuriatingly calm. “You no longer work there. I emailed both the café and the club this morning. You quit.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did what?”

“You didn’t think I’d let you keep working those jobs, did you?” he asked, his tone patronizing. “It would be too stressful. And besides, you have a chauffeur now.”

The audacity of it left you speechless. He had completely upended your life without so much as asking. You wanted to scream at him, but all you could manage was a strangled, “This is insane.”

“You’re welcome,” Jungkook said, his smirk returning.

You forced yourself to breathe, scanning the rest of the document.

Rule 2: Jungkook will pick out your clothing.

“Seriously?” you asked, glaring at him. “You’re not dressing me like a doll.”

“It’s not about that,” he replied, his tone soothing. “I just want to make sure you look the part. Trust me, Princess, you’ll thank me later.”

Rule 3: Always let Jungkook know where you are at all times.

Your eyes narrowed. “This is overkill.”

Jungkook shrugged, unbothered. “I like to stay informed.”

You set the paper down, exhaling sharply. “These rules are insane.”

“But they’re necessary,” he countered smoothly. “Do you agree?”

After reading through all three rules, you hesitated, the weight of the agreement settling on your chest. They were restrictive, sure, but not impossible. And when you considered what he was offering in return, the decision became easier than you’d anticipated. You picked up the pen and signed your name at the bottom with a steady hand, ignoring the way Jungkook’s gaze lingered on you, sharp and satisfied.

“Good girl,” he murmured, taking the papers back and setting them aside.

He then gave you a tour of the penthouse, which was as stunning as the first time you’d seen it. Every corner of the space exuded wealth, from the marble floors to the sleek furniture, and the floor-to-ceiling windows that bathed the rooms in natural light. When your belongings arrived later that evening, you unpacked in silence, settling into what would now be your home.

As you folded the last of your clothes into a drawer, Jungkook had casually mentioned a party tomorrow night- a celebration for him taking over his late father’s company. The weight of his words hung in the air, but you didn’t press further. It wasn’t your place, after all.

Now, you found yourself seated at the expansive dining table, the two of you at opposite ends. The food before you was nothing short of perfection, a feast prepared by a professional chef that tasted like nothing you’d ever eaten before. Each bite melted on your tongue, and despite your best efforts to maintain composure, you devoured most of your plate.

As the meal wound down, you glanced up at Jungkook. His posture was relaxed, a glass of red wine cradled in his hand, but there was a distance in his eyes. Taking a steadying breath, you decided to break the silence.

“I overheard that your father passed away,” you said cautiously, offering a faint smile. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been tough.”

The shift in his expression was immediate. His jaw tightened, his wine glass frozen halfway to his lips. For a moment, he simply stared at you, his dark eyes cold and unreadable. When he finally took a sip, his movements were slow.

“Don’t be,” he said, his tone void of emotion. “The old man had it coming.”

The bluntness of his words left you momentarily stunned. You searched his face for any trace of vulnerability, but there was none, only a hardened edge that hinted at years of resentment. He cleared his throat, setting his glass down with a soft clink.

“We should get ready for bed,” he said, his voice clipped as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “It’ll be a long day tomorrow.”

Sensing the finality in his tone, you nodded and rose from your seat, understanding more in his silence than in his words. Whatever relationship he’d had with his father, it wasn’t one he cared to revisit. You almost felt sorry for him, but the thought quickly passed as you excused yourself to your room.

The warm spray of the shower was a welcome relief after the long day. You let the water cascade over your skin, washing away the lingering tension from the dinner conversation. Wrapping yourself in a plush towel, you moved to the bathroom mirror, quickly brushing through your damp hair and applying a bit of moisturizer.

By the time you changed into a loose-fitting t-shirt and shorts, the exhaustion had fully set in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you grabbed the hairdryer and began to run it through your strands, letting the rhythmic hum fill the quiet space.

“Princess, may I come in?” Jungkook’s voice broke through the sound of your hairdryer.

You turned it off and called back, “Yeah, it’s fine. Come in!”

The door creaked open, and he stepped inside, holding a large gift box wrapped with a pristine white ribbon. “I brought you something,” he said simply, placing the box on the dresser.

Your curiosity piqued, and you moved to open it, your fingers carefully pulling at the ribbon. Inside was the most stunning red dress you’d ever seen, its silky fabric gleaming under the soft light. You couldn’t help the way your lips parted in awe.

“I’m guessing you like it,” Jungkook said, amusement lacing his tone.

“I love it,” you admitted, running your fingers lightly over the fabric.

“There’s more,” he added, his excitement barely contained. He pulled out a smaller jewelry box, opening it to reveal a simple yet breathtaking white pearl necklace.

Before you could say anything, Jungkook stepped closer, gently taking the necklace from the box. His hands found your waist, guiding you toward the mirror. “Hold still,” he murmured, his voice soft.

He brushed your hair aside, his fingers grazing the nape of your neck as he fastened the clasp. You watched his reflection in the mirror, the intensity in his eyes as he focused on the task. When he finished, he didn’t move away. Instead, he stood behind you, his hands still resting lightly on your waist.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

Your throat tightened, a flush rising to your cheeks as you struggled to find your voice. “We should… we should go to bed,” you said, your words barely above a whisper.

Jungkook held your gaze in the mirror for a moment longer before he stepped back, his hands falling away reluctantly. “You’re right,” he said quietly. His lips curved into a faint, almost embarrassed smile. “Tell me if you need anything.”

With that, he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

You stood there for a long moment, your hand lightly brushing the necklace at your throat. The weight of it was unfamiliar, it felt like more than just jewelry.

﹉﹉﹉

Weeks had passed, and your new life with Jungkook had become almost... comfortable. He kept his word, sending more money than you’d ever expected, along with daily gifts that seemed to grow more extravagant. Designer clothes, jewelry, and things you never even dreamed of owning appeared in your room like clockwork.

Surprisingly, Jungkook’s manner had softened since the night you met. The sharp edges of his arrogance dulled ever so slightly, replaced by a quiet attentiveness that caught you off guard. He showed up at your campus during breaks to take you to lunch, ensuring you ate properly. He complimented you often, his words effortlessly slipping into your mind and settling there. His attention was unrelenting, and his affection, though subtle, began to feel natural, even comforting.

The nights you spent together weren’t spent in the dazzling chaos of parties, but in the quiet intimacy of his penthouse. You’d sit on the couch, sharing popcorn as black-and-white movies played in the background. He’d tease you for your poor choice in films, only to get drawn in himself. Mornings when he’d make you breakfast with your favorite tea, prepared just the way you liked it. For someone so commanding, Jungkook had an unexpectedly gentle side, one he reserved just for you.

One evening, after a long day of classes, you arrived at the penthouse to find another gift waiting on your bed. Your heart quickened as you unwrapped it, the soft rustle of tissue paper revealing a breathtaking gown in deep emerald green. The fabric shimmered under the room’s soft lighting, the design simple yet undeniably elegant. Beneath it lay a small white card, his handwriting precise and elegant:

Wear this tonight, Beautiful. Be ready by 7.

– Love, Jungkook

You traced the words with your finger, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. Slipping into the dress, you paused in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection. The way the fabric hugged your curves, the way it made you feel, it was transformative. Still, a flicker of doubt crept in. What does he see in me? you wondered. Why me?

The soft knock at your door broke your thoughts. “Come in,” you called, sitting on the bed as you searched for the perfect heels.

Jungkook stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that made your skin tingle. He moved toward you, crouching gracefully as he took the shoes from your hands. “Let me,” he murmured, his voice low.

Kneeling before you, he gently slipped one heel onto your foot, then the other, his touch careful, almost reverent. His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Perfect.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as he stood and offered his hand. “Come on, baby,” he said, his voice softening. “I have a surprise.”

﹉﹉﹉

The car ride was quiet, Jungkook’s hand resting possessively on your thigh as he drove. His thumb traced idle patterns against your skin, the touch soothing. You didn’t question where you were going, he liked his secrets, and you’d learned to trust them, even if they left you on edge.

When the car finally pulled up outside a towering glass building, you frowned slightly. The opulence of the place was undeniable, but it only heightened the unease twisting in your stomach. Sensing your hesitation, Jungkook appeared at your side, offering his arm. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his lips brushing close to your ear. “You’re with me.”

Inside, the restaurant was just as grand as the exterior promised, the air thick with the scent of truffles and candle wax. Jungkook guided you through the space with practiced ease, every head in the room turning to watch as the two of you passed.

“This is beautiful,” you admitted as you reached the table, glancing up at him. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied smoothly, his hand briefly brushing against yours as you sat down. “Expect more of these in the future, Princess.”

Before you could respond, the waiter appeared, a young man with a practiced smile. “Welcome to Jungsik,” he said. “I’ll be taking your order tonight.” He turned to you, his smile widening. “And may I say, you look stunning this evening.”

You forced a polite smile, glancing at Jungkook out of the corner of your eye. His jaw tightened slightly, his grip on the edge of the table subtle but telling.

“Thank you, could I please-”

“Wait,” the waiter interrupted, his expression shifting to one of surprise. “Sorry, but… you look familiar. Have we met before?”

Your heart sank as panic bubbled in your chest. “I-I don’t think so,” you stammered, but he wasn’t convinced.

“No, I’m sure of it!” he said, snapping his fingers. “Black Pearl Club! You’re one of the-”

The sound of Jungkook’s chair scraping against the floor silenced the waiter instantly. His expression darkened, and before you could stop him, he grabbed the man by the collar, his knuckles white with fury. “Say another word,” Jungkook growled, his voice low and dangerous, “and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Jungkook, stop!” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you grabbed his arm. “Please, let him go.”

He turned to you, his breathing heavy, his eyes wild. For a moment, it felt like he didn’t see you at all. Slowly, he released the waiter, who stumbled back, his face pale. “We’re leaving,” Jungkook grabbed your wrist as you left the restaurant, his grip firm but not painful, yet. His jaw was clenched, his movements brisk and purposeful. You struggled to keep up with his long strides, the cool night air biting against your skin as you stepped outside.

“Jungkook, stop!” you protested, trying to pull your arm free. “You’re overreacting!”

“Overreacting?” he hissed, spinning around to face you. The intensity in his dark eyes made your breath hitch. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened in there? What they could’ve said? To me? To you?”

“They’re just words!” you snapped, yanking your arm again. He didn’t let go.

“Words ruin reputations,” he shot back, his voice low and dangerous. “And yours is tied to mine now. Do you understand that?”

You glared at him, your chest heaving as frustration and confusion clashed within you. “I didn’t ask for this! For any of it!”

“And yet, here you are,” Jungkook growled, dragging you toward his car. “Now, get in.”

You planted your feet, resisting his pull. “No. Not until you calm down and stop talking to me like I’m a child.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might lose his composure entirely. Instead, he took a step closer, his presence suffocating, his voice dropping to a sharp, cutting whisper. “Don’t test me, Princess.”

You glared back, defiant. “Or what? You’ll drag me into the car?”

His lips curved into a smile that was anything but kind. “If that’s what it takes.” He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he added, “And if I do, I’ll make damn sure you stay there. Buckled in. Understand?”

Your pulse raced, his words infuriating. You wanted to fight, to shout back, but his dominance was overwhelming, leaving you feeling trapped. He straightened, his eyes locked on yours.

“Now,” he said, his voice cold but steady. “Get. In. The. Car.”

You hesitated, your gaze darting between him and the sleek black vehicle parked at the curb. Every nerve in your body screamed to defy him, but the sheer authority in his voice made you falter.

“Last chance,” he warned, stepping even closer. “Do it yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”

The challenge in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and reluctantly, you moved toward the car. Jungkook opened the passenger door with a sharp motion, watching as you climbed in with slow, deliberate steps.

Before you could react, he leaned over, buckling your seatbelt himself. The closeness was suffocating, his movements rough but controlled. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” he murmured, his voice thick with sarcasm as he pulled back and slammed the door shut.

He rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension. Without a word, he started the engine, his jaw tight as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

The silence was deafening as he pulled out onto the road, the weight of his anger hanging over you like a storm waiting to break. You turned your gaze to the window, your reflection staring back at you, but you could feel his eyes flick toward you every so often, sharp and assessing.

It was going to be a long ride.

﹉﹉﹉

The car slowed to a stop, and you realized you’d arrived at his penthouse. Jungkook threw the gear into park with more force than necessary before turning to you, his gaze hard and unreadable.

“Let’s go,” he said curtly, stepping out of the car, waiting for you.

You hesitated, the thought of following him back in didn’t feel right. But as the cold night air seeped into the car, you realized you didn’t have much of a choice. Steeling yourself, you stepped out, your legs feeling unsteady beneath you.

Jungkook was waiting by the elevator, his expression unreadable but his eyes never leaving you. The tension between you felt like a live wire, crackling with energy that threatened to snap.

Inside the elevator, the silence was unbearable. Jungkook stood close, too close, his presence overwhelming in the confined space. The soft hum of the elevator only seemed to amplify the pounding of your heart.

As the doors slid open, you stepped into the penthouse, the familiarity of the space doing little to ease the unease gnawing at your chest. Jungkook didn’t say a word as he shrugged off his blazer, tossing it onto the back of the couch before running a hand through his hair.

“Jungkook,” you tried again, your voice softer now. “We need to talk.”

“Not tonight,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“But-”

“Not tonight,” he repeated, turning to face you. His expression softened just slightly, but the intensity in his eyes remained. “You need to rest, Princess. We’ll talk tomorrow, hm?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the weariness in his voice stopped you. Not knowing what to say and still shaken by the night’s events, you only nodded, your voice caught somewhere between fear and disbelief.

After finishing your bedtime routine, you sat on the edge of your bed, wrapped in the softness of your pajamas, wishing the night had ended differently. The image of Jungkook’s rage at the restaurant replayed in your mind like a haunting echo. Despite everything, a part of you wanted to check on him, to ensure he was at least calmer. Quietly, you tiptoed across the cold tile floor, your heart thundering in your chest as you approached the slightly ajar door to his office.

“...Yes, Son Jiho. At Jungsik restaurant. Take care of it. I want him gone for good,” Jungkook’s voice cut through the silence, low and sharp like a blade.

Your breath caught in your throat as you peeked inside. He was seated at his desk, his phone pressed to his ear. His jaw was tense, his expression unreadable except for the cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. As he ended the call, he let out a low chuckle, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk.

You froze. Every muscle in your body tensed as the weight of his words sank in. Gone for good. The realization hit you like a cold wave, leaving your chest tight and your heart racing.

You stumbled backward, your movements slow and careful to avoid drawing his attention. Once back in your room, panic seized you. Your hands trembled as you grabbed your old backpack, throwing in clothes and essentials as quickly as possible. You couldn’t stay. Not after what you’d heard.

Changing into something practical, you peeked out of your bedroom door. The penthouse was shrouded in darkness, the silence unnervingly heavy. You tiptoed to the front door, holding your breath as you reached for the keypad. But when you typed in the code, the door didn’t budge.

Frowning, you tried again, only to be met with the same result. A sinking dread spread through you.

“Princess?”

His voice sliced through the darkness, sending a chill down your spine. Slowly, you turned to find Jungkook standing a few feet away, his figure partially illuminated by the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the windows.

“Where are you off to so late at night?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with an unsettling edge as he began walking toward you.

Your mind raced for an excuse. “I-I forgot my book at the library,” you stammered, forcing a casual tone. “I need it.”

Jungkook’s gaze darkened, his steps deliberate. “Oh, really?” he murmured, his voice dropping. “So you didn’t happen to overhear me in the office earlier?”

Your stomach dropped. He knows.

Panic bubbled up as he closed the distance between you, his presence heavy. He stopped just inches away, his frame towering over you as he leaned in slightly.

“W-what happened to him?” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

Jungkook’s hand came up to your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle as his thumb brushed over your skin. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that, baby,” he cooed, his voice soft yet chilling. His dark eyes locked onto yours. “But if you really must know... he’s in a better place now.”

The smirk on his lips sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but his presence pinned you in place.

“Enough about him,” Jungkook continued, his tone shifting to something almost affectionate. “You weren’t planning on leaving me, now were you?”

You swallowed hard, your head shaking in silent denial. “No,” you whispered, the lie barely audible.

Relief softened his expression as he exhaled, his hand moving to cradle your face. “My good girl wouldn’t leave me.” His lips curled into a possessive smile. “Not that you could, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice cracking.

He tilted his head, his smile widening. “From the moment you signed that contract, you’ve belonged to me,” he said simply, his voice both calm and dominant.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took a step back, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place. “What? No, Jungkook, I-”

“I’m the only one who can look after you!” he snapped, his frustration boiling to the surface. “I was the only one who helped you when no one else did. You need me.”

His voice rose, but he quickly paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “All you need to know,” he said, his voice eerily calm now, “is that you’re mine. I’m never letting you go, and the sooner you accept that, the better it will be for you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you nodded slowly, too afraid to argue. “I... I understand,” you choked out.

Jungkook’s features softened, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “There’s my good girl,” he murmured, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“You must be tired huh,” he said, frowning, his tone gentler now, though his grip remained firm.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go to our room and get ready for the night.”

[embersofhope-if]

What interactive fiction would you recommend (besides this one)?

oh anon i follow over 150 if blogs let me get you some of my favorites😊 This is very long so all of them are under the cut🫶

some of these you'll probably already have heard of bc of how popular they are, but trust me, they're popular for a reason, lmao

these ones all have demos (if i messed up and some dont uh ignore that)

@infamous-if - "You're going to be a superstar, no matter what it takes." genuinely one of my favorites ifs (seven lawless my beloved please come back home the kids are asking whats taking so long)

@coeluvr - "You play as the only remaining member of the royal family of Vesphire; living in the home of the man who took away everything from you." another ive been obsessed with recently. i will forever love revenge stories (and my pookie helios)

@merrycrisis-if - "As a late 20-something year-old fresh from a recent break-up and struggling to pay rent in New York, life throws up more questions than answers."

@ramonag-if - "When your village is razed to the ground, you're left fleeing with an exiled prince. You can trust no one but each other. Your father's dying wish was to protect the prince, but can you really trust a man who was exiled from his kingdom?"

@nyehilismwriting / Project Hadea - "Set in a distant future, you play the role of an elite operative of Scytha Industries, a private contracting firm. ‘Contracting’, in this case, refers to anything from political assassinations, to private security, to bodyguard services."

@vapolis - "You’re a mercenary, gun for hire, assassin, information extractor, delivery person – call it what you want, because the people that hire you for your services don’t give much of a shit what you call yourself as long as you actually get them what they want."

@godsandvillains-if - "As the only metahuman with the ability to wield the powerful Chaos Magic, your very blood holds the answers to unlocking the secrets behind the control of time and space, but it has the drawback of being almost completely volatile."

@hvllowheart - "LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER is a spy game where you take on the role of an agent under the codename Wraith, who up until two years ago was one of the best agents TERRA has ever made. now the agency returns into your life and pulls you back into the field as agents go missing by the dozens."

@eyesofshan-if - "Years ago, you were uprooted from the only home you had ever known and captured to be sold as a slave. Now, war is at your doorstep once more while you are left in a delicate position — as a commander of the country that invaded your homeland. While investigating a case of illegal human trafficking, you come across a plot that threatens to rip this tentative peace apart."

@apt502-if - "Moving from your small home to New York City was supposed to be a dream. You were supposed to start your new life with your long-distance partner and dive headfirst into full-on adulthood. Everything was supposed to be perfect. How can you not love being in your mid-twenties in the Big Apple?That is until your put-together, white collar partner dumps you the same day you arrive. Fun."

@acourtofserpents - "As the only human in the Kingdom of Faerie, you're no stranger to shining eyes that hold looks filled with hatred, lips painted in the color of forest fruits whispering your name, heads with pointed ears turning at your every step. Though you long for their approval, for a place amongst the wicked immortals, they remind you with every breath you take that as you came from dirt, to dirt you will return."

@softlyopulent-if - "All of King Adder’s children are a mystery to the common folk, but you—you are nothing but a ghost. A ghost, that spends eighteen years locked away in the deepest part of the palace, so that no eyes may lay upon you.And those that do—they do not treat you kindly.And when you are finally of age, at last, you are betrothed to the child of the King of a far away kingdom, to secure an alliance that your father has been seeking for years.And you are swept away to a place even more foreign than your own land, to be wed to a stranger that looks at you with contempt. To live in a kingdom of citizens that despise you. And perhaps, just perhaps, fight a war."

@heromaker-if - "Stories of heroes, legends and chosen ones are commonplace. But you'd never thought it was your child who would have to save the world from the Demon Lord's clutches."

@theabyssal - "In The Abyssal, you assume the control of a powerful deity that was betrayed by their fellow gods. Imprisoned against your will for all eternity, you had a long time to plan your revenge."

@milaswriting - "By birth, and association, you are one of the most famous people in the big city of Lehsa. Your father's the mayor, and you're from a bright, vibrant, bustling city... and yet, until recently, you didn't realise all the secrets yourself and the city held."

@zico-if - "You were supposed to be a sacrifice in order to bring an eldritch god to your realm, a sacrifice that was never supposed to live. Instead of dying and summoning the god intended, you find yourself face to face with an ancient being that was chained and locked away for the horrors they once committed."

@collegetennisoriginstory - "Experience the ups-and-downs of life as a freshman on the Cargill University varsity tennis team amongst a colorful cast of characters."

@disenchantedif - "You used to be a beacon of hope. Now they only know you as the failure, the Unchosen. Will you rise above them? Will you become better or far worse than they could ever imagine?"

@bouncyballcitadel - "Play as a first-year surgery intern at Citadel Health. Will you become the star intern and curry the favor of the chief? Or will you uncover Citadel Health’s secrets and break a story or two? This will be the best and worst year of your life. Don’t forget to save lives and break some hearts along the way."

@leoneliterary - "You play as a thief pressed into the employ of a mysterious nobleman. With the your life, the fate of your guild, and your honor on the line, you'll have to navigate the perils of the royal court and combat a more mystical threat. The story is set in Cusmo, the naturally fortified, desert capital of Hashind, and will showcase the much praised Upper Cusmo, the crime ridden Lower Cusmo, and much more."

@doriana-gray-games - "Play as your version of Sherlock Holmes in this romance detective game!"

@fallenlightsif - "You are the half-sibling of High General Ezrah Rhys and have lived the past twelve years of your life in Kesdon, the capital of Ebia. You've spent most of your time training and honing your skills for the future that awaits you. A future that is entirely your own."

@shai-manahan - "They call you Ripper. It’s a horrendous name to give to a detective like you, and definitely not one you chose for yourself, but you suppose it’s to be expected given your reputation for putting powerful people behind bars. Businesses feared you. The other cops hated you. Local gangs despised your entire existence. Yet, despite all of that, you remained untouched. Until that day, when all the lies and the deception and the foolish mistakes turned your life upside down."

@larkingame - "someone is after you. for over a decade and a half now, you’ve traveled up, down and across the country--running schemes and hunting fiends with your mentor, con-man-by-day, vampire-hunter-by-night, Wyatt Abrams--the prolific vampire slayer and the living descendant of Gregory Abrams, founder and prophet of the Abrams Family, the nomadic vampire-hunting cult that raised you--and was wiped out years ago. carrying the abrams name means also means carrying on it's enemies--but that isn't to say you haven't forged a couple of your own along the way. now, it seems someone is trying to make good on old threats and promises. they've placed a bounty on your head. so you and wyatt do what you do best: you run away. to some little town, out nevada ways, where the title of town preacher is unexpectedly thrust upon you--bringing back years of trauma you thought long tucked away."

@evertidings - "you are a bounty hunter. responsible for taking in rogue supernaturals, you work for IAOS—the international agency of supernaturals—where, alongside your best friend and partner, you two have quickly become the best hunting duo of the branch. after a particularly tricky hunt, you brief your boss, Caine Atheron, and come back to work the next day to find that he has mysteriously disappeared overnight, the company is now in the hands of his best friend, Sebastian Mai. and though no one else seems to question it, something tells you that there's more to the story."

@rotten-games - Regrets Of The Traitor: "You are the Ruler of Hadaria after killing the previous Queens and betraying all who once trusted you. Sat upon the throne with all the power available to you, one would be forgiven for believing you finished with your quest. With a strange figure in your dreams speaking vague prophecies of magical artifacts, a mysterious cult moving into the city, and a group intent on unseating you from your place, perhaps you’re way in over your head for a farmer’s kid. City of Immortals: "You follow a pair of siblings worlds apart as they get accustomed to their new realities in two very different worlds. One trapped in an unnatural desert wasteland where every resource has a scarcity, not knowing if they’ll be the only one left when everything turns to dust, the other working as a private investigator in a sprawling underground metropolis of the undying. Each not knowing the other is alive, will they unravel the mysteries that somehow connect their two new homes?"

@shepherds-of-haven - "Shepherds of Haven is a dark fantasy interactive fiction game. In it, you play as a Mage living in a world where magic is outlawed and your people—those possessing supernatural powers—are oppressed and reviled. The world is ruled by humans who believe in science, technology, and industry: at best, you and your kind are nothing more than a fairytale, and at worst you are the state’s greatest threat."

@someoneverypretty-world - "As a child, growing up in the slums of Hvinir without any guardians, you believed you would not live to see 30. Until Haven, a thief guild, took you in and taught you how to survive. Facing hardships, the guild leader tasks you to sneak into the castle with the mission to take."

@northern-passage - "The Northern Passage is an 18+ horror fantasy CYOA, where you play as a hunter sent up north to investigate a series of missing people along the border of your home country and in the port cities of the Blackwater. Working with your handler, Lea, you will travel north and discover that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined, and that there is something powerful lurking out in the deep, dark sea…"

@thedecoy-if - "♔ The Decoy is a dark fantasy that follows you, a 21st century normal human, kidnapped to an alternate magical universe to play the part of the missing heir to a powerful throne...who also happens to be your doppelgänger. ♔"

@ripperplague - "You are a doctor, a prodigy in hiding. Deep in the underbelly of Valeris, you hide among the shadows. You work hard to wring the blood stains off your palms, your face...your soul. Redemption and revenge are parallel goals, the flames of rage and disgust mingling. How could anyone ever love you?"

These ones dont have a demo yet, but im still absolutely obsessed

@pavedinashes-if - "You're only 20 when suddenly your life goes bam! Throwing you into a whole new city, a different country even. Wasn't part of the plan, but you know how life loves to mess with plans. People happened, stuff happened, and suddenly you're on the move. The new chapter ahead? Buckle up, 'cause it's not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. And guess what? Your step-mom? Yeah, she's right there in the same city. She's always had this knack for trying to steer your ship, like every decision's a GPS checkpoint. But hey, there's this one thing that's never let you down—your skateboard. It's like the buddy that's been with you through thick and thin, the one that never bails. Among all this craziness it's like your anchor. So, the big question is—can you break out of the loop you got in? Find your place in the world and restart or lose yourself in temptation? Time to find out."

@riptide-if - "Your dad has always said you swim as if your were born to be in the water; the rest of your family has always said that he is the whole reason you turned out like that. So, it's not really a surprise when you had used all the money you got for your 7th birthday to buy a surfboard. And even less of a surprise when you started joining small surf competitions by the time you were 10, later followed by bigger competitions. It seems you are the only one surprised when it turns out you're able to compete in the World Surfer's League's Ultimate Tournament Tour*. Thrown into a mix of fellow surfing prodigies, rookies, and pros, do you really have what it takes to win?"

@weepinwriter - "You are inmate No. 1441, incarcerated in Tartarus, the most notorious prison on the continent. You find yourself imprisoned for a crime that you do not remember committing, leaving you in a state of uncertainty about your own identity and purpose. The first memory you have is awakening to the sensation of a gun being shoved into your mouth."

@whatawaitsus - "Despite being one of the most expensive schools in the nation, nothing particularly interesting has happened at the school in the nine years you've been here— aside from the occasional accidental possession caused by a ghost or the common room getting flooded after a nixie gets too frustrated over their homework. That is until students start to go missing."

@evermount - "Blue-suited guards stand in every corner, but they're no threat—you're under threat. And this is how you keep safe. It's necessary; the council said so themselves. Under no circumstances shall Evermount be left, ever. So, no one has, and no one intends to. Why would you? It's peaceful—you're at peace. You have your spouse, and you have your house; everyone's happy. This is all you've ever known."

@forsakensword-if - "When the Deathless, an Ancient Evil that hasn’t been seen in over two million years, returns to Earth, it threatens the extremely precarious peace that has settled between the warring factions of Heaven and Hell. God, in an effort to protect Humanity from the consequences of a war between the Angels and Demons, sends Heaven’s best warriors to banish the Deathless once more. When that ultimately fails, it is declared that God’s Sworn Sword and Heaven’s Chief Angel will be charged with finding a way to destroy the Deathless once and for all. That Angel is you. The Archangel Michael."

@velena-if - "You wake up in a dark, cold place with no memories of yourself, save for one: the memory of your death. It becomes clear soon enough that you are in the Nav, the domain of the goddess of death, Morana, and the sanctuary of all the evil spirits and monsters. For you, Nav will be the place where your life changes forever."

@countdown-if - "Three months ago, life took a sharp turn. Your mother found herself entangled in a situation so bad, she couldn't dig her way out of it, like usual. This time, the hole was way too deep. She needed help, and the only people capable of aiding her were the same ones she had vowed never to allow back into her life, let alone introduce to you and your younger sibling. Who were they? Your grandparents—a powerful and well-established duo. In short, they did manage to help your mother back on her feet, but not without strings attached—never without strings. Now, you're facing a senior year in a private school, fully funded by none other than grandma and grandpa, dearest. The only task at hand: do what your mother couldn't—graduate."

@dropout-if - "This is your first summer home since you began studying in Stanford. That is what everyone thinks. This is your first summer home since you dropped out of college, thus becoming the biggest disappointment in your neighborhood. That is what only you know. "

@stonewall-if - "Stonewall Military Academy: the most brutal, merciless, and unforgiving boarding school in the country. Most recruits either desert or die by the end of their first year. It is where the fiercest and deadliest killers are trained and molded to be the military's steel fist. And it is not for the faint of heart."

@viperdove-if - "You are the Dove, the heir to one of the most powerful crime families in your country. The grip your family--your father--has on their side of the land is tight, and now that you've reached adulthood it's time for you to be fully absorbed into the machinations of gang warfare. That means opium, mercenaries, assassinations. In this ancient world, blood moves people just as much as money does."

@fallen-if - "You are an individual that has been known by many aliases over the years. Child of the dawn, the original sinner, star of the morning. But no matter the name, your identity remains the same. You are the one that defied the heavens, the one that cast aside the shackles of tradition and broke free from the constraints of the divine. You are Lucifer Morningstar - The Fallen Angel. "

@maboroshi-if - "Maboroshi is an Interactive Fiction Game based in the world of Naruto, however, all events within the story span during the end of the First Shinobi War and the beginning of the Second Shinobi War."

@greatprotector-if - "Forced out of your family's farm against your will, you are now an ocean away from home, and you have somehow been chosen to be the main protector of the heir to some kingdom you’ve hardly even heard of. The spot's only open because the former protector died of old age, so that's probably a good indicator that it won't be as strenuous as it sounds. But despite that, you pour yourself into your work. You can't help it. You feel safer decked out in armour, and you like having something you're trusted to look after. Protect some royalty, cover all your blind spots, and try not to worry about all you've left behind."

@retribution-if - "Retribution, He Cries is a revenge story set in the Dark Ages of the fictional world of [REDACTED] and other realms."

@thescarsilivewith-if - "You were a kind monarch once. After your mother’s brutal reign, you thought your people needed respite. Evidently, they didn’t think the same since their bloodthirst only increased. Three years after your coronation, your mother’s favourite consort dethroned you with the army and the clergy’s support. As you fled from the palace together with your spouse, from an arranged marriage celebrated only three months earlier, you were found by slavers. You managed to save your spouse but not yourself. Four years later, your spouse finds you, though you’re not the same person they knew. You are not changed in spirit alone, however, for your magic grew in your captivity and now you’re unbound. When the crown chose you as its owner, you wanted peace for your kingdom. Now the only thing you crave is revenge."

[shomatoriashi]

7/30/24: 11:15am

yandere!sung jinwoo x fem.reader

{ request - oneshot }

- the academy arc -

@nyashykyunnie asked: KYUNNIE COMING IN CLUTCH AND SHALL DO A REQ BECAUSE BLESS UR SOUL FOR LETTING ME DO A REQ!!! MWAHHHHH!!! Hmo... Childhood friend reader x Jinwoo who went back in time >;3. He was always the chill typea boy best friend but ever since bby had puberty and became tall n hot he suddenly became... A little more posessive hehehehehehe. And what Jinwoo doesnt know is reader is secretly transmigrated and was his biggest fangirl for a long time and instead of being scared of Yandere!Woo they giggle at his murderous spree when she discovers that woowoo is going yandere over her heheheh Otherwise, go crazy bby>:3

warnings: unedited; petty bullying; violence; blood mention; gore; body horror; possessive and obsessive behavior

disclaimers: i do not condone such behaviors in real life; since this is purely a work of fiction, anything goes and i am willing to portray this creatively in the best way possible.

you are 5 years old, and your parents just moved into a quaint apartment complex. they were excited to be able to live in a space that they could call their own while surrounded by friendly neighbors.

as you busied yourself with your sketchbook, drawing ocean waves with colorful fishes swimming in them with your crayons, you heard a knock at the door. your ears perk up at the sound, and just as you were about to answer it, your father stops you with a stern expression. he calls out your name before gently reminding you, “what did papa tell you about opening doors? you should always let your mama or papa answer first, okay?”

you twist at the strands of your hair while pouting at him, giving your father a hesitant nod before following him to the front door. you hid your face behind the back of your father’s legs, eyes peeking curiously forward the moment he unlocks the door.

settled directly before you was a family that seemed to tower over you. you saw what looked like a tall young man and woman greeting your dad with kind smiles. in the woman’s arms was a baby wrapped in blankets, but what perhaps caught your attention was a little boy that hid himself behind his mother’s legs.

with your fascination growing with each second that passes, you slowly move away from your father’s legs while the little boy does the same. his grey eyes seemed to take you in, the blush dyeing his pale cheeks a rosier hue as the woman gently calls out to him, “jinwoo, go on and talk to her. she’s the same age as you, and i’m sure you’ll have fun.”

with his mother’s permission, the boy (jinwoo, it’s such a nice name), gives her a nod before standing before you, taking a hold of your hand. “wanna play together?”

you give him an eager nod, leading him to the floor of your living room as you showed him your sketchpad and the various drawings you had. as you turned the pad to a fresh page, you shyly offer your crayons to jinwoo, asking him if he’d like to draw anything. he gives you a smile while eagerly nodding at you.

and just a few moments later, when your father and jinwoo’s parents enter your home, they would see two giggling kids drawing while laying flat on their stomachs, basking in their imaginations all while knowing that this was a friendship that would last a lifetime-

you and jinwoo would become inseparable ever since that fateful day.

{ … }

days go by, quickly turning into weeks as the weeks slowly morphed into months while the months carried the ever changing seasons leading up to the new year-

and you found yourself here, 10 years later, ready to begin your first year of high school. you look at your reflection, adjusting the ribbon settled on your collar while brushing back your hair. you had plans of leaving your apartment 15 minutes ago-

however, jinwoo specifically told you to wait for him; that he was the one that would walk you to and from school as an extra means of protection (whatever that meant.) as you look at your clock settled on your desk, seeing how close it was to being 8am, you let out a huff and began marching out of your room-

only for your face to come into contact with a hard wall of muscle, earning a gasp from you. massaging at the slight ache felt against your nose, you look up to see jinwoo smiling down at you, already standing at nearly 6 feet despite only being 15 years old. a smirk graces his features when you feel him playfully flick at your nose, “ready to head to school?”

you grumble when he teases you, ready to walk ahead of him when he wraps his arms around your waist. he keeps you close to him, making your eyes go wide when he walks out of the apartment with you. he sees your mother doing the dishes and announces your departure, earning a knowing smile from her, “have a good day at school you two!”

before you could answer, jinwoo closes the door, a strange, dark look crossing over his expression as you trembled a bit in response. he shoves a hand in his pocket, using his other hand to hold onto yours as he interlocks them together. you take note of his expression and ask, “are you okay? you seem… upset.”

his expression immediately changes, eyes going back to its normal hue of grey when he looks back at you all while playfully ruffling your hair. “i’m fine, no need to worry your pretty little head over me.”

jinwoo then proceeds to annoy you, making kissy faces at you as he tries to get closer to you. you end up laughing while struggling to maintain your balance on the sidewalk, noticing how he still kept his gloved hand hidden within the pockets of his coat. admittedly, you had some anxiety pertaining to your first day of high school, yet with jinwoo’s constant teasing and jokes, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable as time passed.

arriving at your high school, jinwoo remains close to you, standing in the midst of a crowd of student while interlocking his fingertips with yours. as you stood together, ready to enter the school and start your day, you became achingly aware of several girls excited whispers. from your periphery, you notice the way they point their perfectly manicured nails at him.

“hey, he’s cute…”

“and so tall too…”

“ugh, why is he with such a plain girl though? don’t tell me they’re dating?!”

“no way! i’m sure she’s his pathetic best friend or something! hehe, i bet she gets friendzoned by him all the time.”

you purse your lips at the sounds of their giggles and harsh words, yet jinwoo squeezes your hand in yet another reassuring manner, moving slightly forward to block your view of them. you give him a grateful smile, seeing jinwoo meet your gaze before giving you a wink.

when the bell rings, you and jinwoo both enter the school together, ready to begin your first day. despite being in different classes, jinwoo was adamant in walking you to your class, frowning all the way. as you stand in front of the classroom, jinwoo places a hand on your shoulders, eyes seemingly glowing when he tells you, “if anyone dares give you any trouble at all, you tell me, okay?”

you giggle and awkwardly shuffle your feet from side to side, “i think i’ll be alright, jinwoo… but, thank you for your concern.”

he returns your smile with a strained one, ready to head back to his own class as he never once looked away from you. only when he disappears into the corner of the hallway did you let out a shaky breath.

surely, you had nothing to worry about, right?

you were bound to have a completely normal day at school, right…?

{ … }

and oh, how wrong your assumptions were!

you had barely finished the day, ready to meet jinwoo for lunch when your exit was blocked off by another student. she was a haughty girl that wore an expensive, ruby pendant that was shaped in a delicate rose while hanging by a thin, golden chain. it was clear that her family had money, as she was dressed in all the accessories and clothes that seemed to accentuate the beauty of her silvery blonde hair and startling green eyes-

a beauty that was used to getting what she wanted-

and a girl that shared your class.

you didn’t bother to know or even recall her name, since all she did was increase your anxieties with her mere presence alone.

“i see you walk into school today with what has to be the hottest guy in our class. so what’s a mousy little thing like you doing with a gorgeous guy like him?”

bile was felt rising up the confines of your throat as you held your sketchbook closer to your chest. the girl sneers at you, already reaching out a hand to snatch away at your sketchbook. you gasp, trying to get it back from her as you felt the tears dot your vision. “please, give that back! that sketchbook means a lot to me!”

buried within those pages were various sketches and stories that you and jinwoo shared, and if she were to ruin them, then all would be lost to you. you watch as her green eyes flash with malicious intent, already opening up your sketchbook as she idly flipped through the pages with a bored expression on her face.

it was when she flips to a random page that she sees the various sketches of jinwoo you had kept, her smile suddenly widening as she tore off the page and folded it, placing it within the confines of her pocket. “now this i can keep. as for the rest…”

her feign sigh of reluctance was all you could hear when she began ripping the rest of the pages out of your sketchbook, tearing up the pages into as many tiny shreds her hands could handle before tossing them up into the air, allowing the torn pages to fall like flower petals in the wind.

by now, your tears blinded you, making you fall to your knees as your heart broke with each torn page that lands on the ground. your breathing became uneven as the girl lets out a tiny “oops!” in response, finally walking away from you while tossing aside her silky hair.

you had no idea how much time you spent gathering the pages in the empty hallway, already knowing that lunch was nearing its end. as you were so focused on picking up the torn pieces of your sketchbook, you were unaware of heavy footsteps approaching you, calling out your name.

“hey, what are you doing? lunch is almost over-“

upon recognizing jinwoo’s voice, you allow your teary eyes to meet with his gaze, seeing them darken before flashing purple. “who did this to you?”

he ignores the ruined sketchbook and focuses his attention on you. picking up your shivering form, jinwoo places your face against his chest, allowing the front of his jacket to soak up all of your tears. several seconds pass when you were finally able to tell him what had happened. “it’s just… i-i wanted to meet you, b-but a girl in my class stopped me from going to you. s-she was mad that i was with you this morning and… she… she tore up my sketchbook while keeping my sketch of you.”

jinwoo’s hands stopped threading through your hair when he lowly asks, “who is she? what’s her name?”

you tremble upon hearing the dark tone of his voice and admit with a shaky sigh, “i don’t know her name… i just know that she’s pretty, with silvery hair and green eyes.”

jinwoo hums at this new information, keeping your face pressed against his chest to hide his expression of sheer rage from you.

soon, you wouldn’t have to deal with such trash like this ever again.

{ … }

you had filled 240 total pages inside of your precious sketchbook-

(jinwoo knew this since he was the one who religiously asked to see each drawing, read each story, painted within those pages)

and for all those 240 pages that had been so callously ripped out from your sketchbook, he had cut park yeon a total of 240 times with his daggers.

it was easy to lure her to him after school. jinwoo had made up an excuse to you about needing to talk to the coach and sign up for track, reassuring you to go home first and that he’ll text you later. with you out of sight and in the safety of your home, he then works on luring yeon to him.

her green eyes were blazing with a possessive hunger for him, following him with little question to the back of the school. he recalls the way yeon fuels his rage by telling him how she was made for him; how she was all he could ever need.

needless to say, she didn’t get a chance to speak further the moment jinwoo slices through her throat, cutting off her vocal cords as he began his revenge on her.

the night air was thick with the scent of blood when he looks down at the girl’s now lifeless body. his glowing eyes manages to dim down, his anger and fury now dying down to a simmer of annoyance as he now had a body to deal with. before he calls upon his soldiers to take care of the evidence, jinwoo’s eyes take sight of the glittering, rose pendant hanging loosely from the girl’s neck, a smirk gracing his features when he leans down to carefully release its clasps from her neck as he held the gorgeously crafted necklace within the palm of his hand.

{ … }

park yeon was not in class this morning, and you briefly wondered what had happened to her-

yet perhaps more-so than that was jinwoo’s sudden absence as well. feeling more concerned about your best friend, you recall how this morning, jinwoo’s mother had told you he had already gone to class, having an early meeting with the track team-

yet when you tried searching for him, he was nowhere to be found.

you check back on your phone when you ultimately decided to make your trek back to class, seeing no reply from jinwoo. letting out a sigh, you enter class and sit at your desk. as you worked on getting out your notebook from your desk was when you felt something cold against the palm of your hand.

your eyebrows were furrowed when you manage to pull out whatever lay deep within the confines of your desk-

only to see a ruby rose pendant covered in dried flecks of blood.

your mouth goes dry at the sight, making you swallow thickly before a wide grin paints your features.

sheer giggles of delight were heard coming from your parted lips as you held in your hand the same pendant that bitch had flaunted when she tore apart your sketchbook. grateful that no one was around, you continued to laugh, never once stopping as you cradled the necklace close to your chest.

jinwoo had done something about it after all!

and you couldn’t have been happier.

of course, you knew about him and his deepest secret.

you knew that he was the shadow monarch and had somehow reversed time to save the world-

you knew of how the two years he went missing was to take on the monarchs by himself-

and you knew that you had his heart within the very palms of your hand, for he had held yours since the very beginning.

back when you were a mere civilian and he had saved you from beasts that escaped the gates-

back when all you could see was himhimhimhim!

and now, that same man was all yours; with fate somehow placing you within his life the moment your parents had moved into the same apartment complex he had lived in all those years ago…

and now, he would never leave your side so long as you played your cards right.

forcing yourself to calm down, you adjust your blouse and put on the necklace, allowing the blood stained rose to settle against your collarbone as you hid the pendant with the fabric of your blouse. once it was all buttoned up, you adjust your blazer and smiled innocently at your classmates that started to walk in while your phone was felt vibrating against your desk. sliding open the screen, you smile when you saw a text from him:

[ my monarch 👑: sorry i wasn’t able to walk you to school today, i wanted my gift to you to be perfect. let’s meet up for lunch later, and i’ll give you a brand new, leather bound sketchbook to make up for the one you lost :) ]

[ you: that’s okay, my love! i look forward to seeing you again. thank you for the gift, i love you ♡ ]

[ my monarch 👑: i love you, too. always. ]

smiling at your phone’s screen, you give jinwoo’s profile picture a light kiss, all too eager to see him again when you dutifully turned your gaze forward and began taking notes, doing your best to hide your smirk when your teacher questions park yeon’s absence.

end notes: this feels like the most, true to genre yandere story i have ever written and i am so sorry for this, especially if it’s not my best work 😭🙏🏻

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Tail Lung Headcanons: Becoming Worthy  (Kung Fu Panda) 

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins. Now I did make this into a video BEFORE I made these headcanons. So these headcanons may not be the same as the YouTube video! I hope that you all enjoy and happy Lunar New Year 2024!] 

(Disclaimer: Tail Lung is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have In Real Life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!) 

(Base Yandere Headcanons With Tai Lung From Kung Fu Panda)

.Tai Lung was once a good person. 

.But the betrayal he faced by his adoptive father and the master changed him, it brought out the very dark and worst side of him. 

.He ended up imprisoned and got to see very few people. 

.You were one of the people that he got to see and he became obsessed with you. 

.To him this obsession was love and he loves you so much that he needs to get out of here and make you his. 

.He is the type of yandere who is very possessive and needs to have you by his side at all times. 

.He is also very protective of you and needs to keep you safe. 

.He will save face for you (That is the right way to say it and not the Western way of defending honor, The whole defend your honor is a very much Western thing in media, and saving face is the proper way to describe those things! I learned this from watching various YouTubers who were born and some who still at least visit China!) and defend you with all their might. 

.He is a man who respects you but is also unstable. 

.He is very close to snapping but he has never taken a life before. 

.He has some morals where he will not kill your loved ones to make you his and he would most likely not kill his rivals. 

.He will defeat his rivals in combat, proving to them and you that he is the right man for you. 

.He has the whole major issue of NEEDING to prove himself to not only you but himself. 

.He needs you to know that he is the best man for you. 

.Also he needs to prove that to himself so he is worthy of you. 

.He still will beat the fuck up out of his rivals that is for sure. 

.When he does confess to you, he is very blunt and straightforward about it. 

.If you say yes, and accept his love, then he did it, he proved to you that he is worthy and you are his now, forever and ever. 

.But, if you say no and turn down his love, he takes it as a betrayal. After all his hard work and all he has done to prove his love for you! 

.This is where he would snap and he would kidnap you. 

.Taking you somewhere remote, where he can teach you to love him, and he will. 

.Because he will make it happen and he will get his happily ever after! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[gyuwoncheol]

Vantage Point | Meet the Characters & Series Masterlist

Status: Begins tomorrow (January 20)!

Pair: Mingyu × f.reader

Summary: Pulling off the "No Strings Attached" arrangement with his best-friend-turned-best-friend-with-benefits was easy, but when a new condition is added onto the mix, Mingyu didn't realise just how much he held onto you when you finally let go.

Genre: College au. BFFs to FWB trope. Fluff, Humor, Angst, Smut [chapters with smut will be indicated and will contain the necessary warnings]

Author’s Note: Please take time to read this before starting the series ☺️

Hello, my darlings! Finally getting round to posting this after missing the commited date last time due to covid. But welcome!!! 🥳 This is the first story to my Snap Shoot universe! Before you get into it, let me just point a few things. This is the first time I'm ever creating a universe with interwoven stories, and while I've done SMAUs before, this is the first one I've done for SVT and the first time I'm also this adventurous about it. It's definitely very different from what I post on here but I'm having lots of fun putting it together. I know it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, this is very much a work of fiction. This is an AU. While Korea may be the assumed setting for this series, it is not explicitly defined. I'm also trying to avoid using lots of Korean cultural references (maybe except for food) such as use of honorifics like "hyung". While many of my other works refrain from over-describing oc's physical features, you may find that in this series (and universe), oc's features will inevitably be defined. You'll find that the visuals of the characters and the aesthetic of the photos/social media posts will be Korean/ Asian. It's a SMAU, so i'll have to place photos and these photos must maintain consistent. I absolutely do not mean any ill intention of being non-inclusive (I don't even fit the same aesthetic as oc).

Again, it's a work of fiction, while I want you to relate to oc, kindly also allow me breathing space to build the character. If you feel uncomfortable at any point in the series, you are very much welcome to stop/unfollow. As mentioned, this is a SMAU, but it contains several chapters which are purely written narrations. All edits (texts, social media posts, etc.) were done by me, however some photos (esp those of Y/N) are from the web, if they are yours, please let me know so that I may credit you or remove the photo. The texts are all done on light mode. Deal with it. This follows a FWB trope, expect lots of smut and suggestive content— specific smut warnings will be available in chapters where they are present, along with other necessary warnings. This series will have lots of fluff and lots of crackhead nonsense humor. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Biggest shoutout to my dearest friend @wongyuseokie who has been nothing but supportive through all of this and through all my dramatic Mingy-induced meltdowns. I love you more than you’ll ever know ♥️

Meet the Characters

Mingyu: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, yn/Camie's best friend since childhood

Yn: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography with Mingyu, Mingyu's best friend since childhood. Nicknamed "Camie" by her group of friends for her highly concerning camera collection/obsession.

Seokmin: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, same friend group as mingyu and yn, Mingyu & Wonwoo's housemate

Soonyoung: technically a year older than the 3, but currently a Sophomore with Gyu, Cam and Seokmin after shifting into their major

Wonwoo: Junior, studying Film & Photography as well, Mingyu's guy best friend and housemate in The Man Cave, a brotherly figure to OC, Soonyoung's former classmate in highschool

The Man Cave: shared house near their university where Mingyu, Wonwoo and Seokmin live, and Soonyoung often crashes.

✨Other characters/members will come as the series progresses.

Series Masterlist

To be populated as each chapter is posted. There is no posting schedule. Chapters will just get uploaded as they come.

Teaser

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five 🔞

Chapter Six 🔞

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Tag List!

@strawberryya @idyllic-ghost @septemberskies @ladyblablabla

If you want to be tagged as each chapter comes out, do send me an ask or reply to this post so I could include you in the tag list 😊

[mymoshangthoughts]

for those of you out there who are, like me, obsessed with the mpreg fish book

li yu, instead of transmigrating into the novel he read, transmigrates to the trashy stallion novel he'd only heard about and didnt want to read bc he's a proud fudanshi dammit and all that straight porn sounded really boring

but now he's in the body of a baby fish demon who cannot yet transform and gifted roughly from the hands of the TERRIFYING mobei jun into the ALSO PRETTY SCARY immortal cultivator shang qinghua, who seems confused that this demon is giving him anything at all

still, the ice demon was COLD AS ASS AND HE NEARLY DIED so he'll stick with the cultivator THANKYOU

his system is malfunctioning a lot tho. it seems to think he's in a different novel and it also seems to fighting with a DIFFERENT system and basically dealing with the system is a headache inducing non-starter so instead he focuses on his life being a peak lords pet fish

except this peak lord is clearly working with a demon and li yu has read enough cultivation novels to know thats not good news. so this guy is prolly a villain? right?? he seems relatively harmless. kind of a hamster-like man who is clearly very overworked and mutters to himself a lot, but not a terrible fish owner so li yu is inclined to like him well enough

anyway, theres also something just.... suspicious about this guy aside from all that. like he could SWEAR that sometimes the guy mutters some modern slang. but also, this novel was pretty well known for running fast and loose with the cultivation setting, maybe it had a lot of anachronistic phrases?

moreso than figuring out whats up with that, li yu is pretty invested in the "will they, won't they" drama happening right in front of his eyes.

because oki the demon lord (finding out the demon was a DEMON LORD was like a scare that took a few years off of li yu's life, THANKS) comes to visit a LOT and hangs out on shang qinghua's bed and shang qinghua seems equally horrified and horny and li yu is left wondering if this is what he's been designated as a fish for. he spent his life observing other peoples romances as a fudanshi, and now his fishy life is much of the same?

which tbh isnt terrible except li yu only has patience for slow burn WHEN ITS FICTIONAL AND THERE ARE TIME SKIPS. while his system is up to fuck who knows and he might spend the rest of his days (or until he's old enough to transform into a fish demon, CROSSING HIS FINGERS THAT HE'S A MERMAID LOOKING DUDE, HE WILL CRY IF ITS THE OPPOSITE) as a lil fishy pet, li yu decides to begin OPERATION: MATCHMAKING FISH PET

bc at this point he ships it and look, he is NOT going to wait however many DECADES this romance might take without his interference (it is indeed pre-canon moshang lolol)

[heroesriseandfall]

Introduction to Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying, April 1990

Introduction by Dennis O'Neil for Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (1990 collected edition)

Transcription below the cut/readmore.

INTRODUCTION by DENNIS O'NEIL

Robin was gone. We needed a new Boy Wonder. There had been two previous Robins. The original first appeared less than a year after a new costumed hero called Batman made his debut in DETECTIVE COMICS #27, to instant success. Some time within the next eleven months, his creators, artist Bob Kane and his writer-collaborator Bill Finger, decided to give their dark, obsessed hero a kind of surrogate son, Robin, who was hailed on the cover of DETECTIVE #36 as “the sensational character-find of 1940—Robin, The Boy Wonder.” Over the next 40 years, Batman’s fortunes varied: always, however, Robin was at Batman’s side.

He served a couple of functions. If Batman were real (and it may shock some of our more avid readers to learn he isn’t), and if he were the grim, obsessed loner he is often portrayed as, Robin, with some help from Batman's faithful butler Alfred, would keep him sane; a man whose every waking hour is focused on the grimmest aspects of society, who is unable to release the effects of seeing his parents murdered, whose life is an amalgam of sudden violence and lonely vigilance, would soon skew into a nasty insanity if he did not have someone to care for, someone to maintain a link with common humanity. But Batman is, of course, not real. (My apologies to avid readers.) He isn’t exactly a fictional character—more on that shortly—but he does not and could not exist as a living, breathing human being. That doesn’t make Robin any less useful: he serves the same functions in the Batman stories as Watson served in the Sherlock Holmes canon and the gravedigger serves in Hamlet: like Holmes’s faithful doctor, Robin is a sounding board, a person with whom the hero can have dialogues and thus let the reader know how brilliantly he’s handling matters and like the gravedigger, he occasionally provides a bright note in an otherwise relentlessly morose narrative.

Which is why I was a trifle uneasy when we—the editorial staff of DC Comics—decided to let our audience decide whether he would live or die. It came to be known in our offices as the “telephone stunt.” We had a character, Robin, the readers didn’t seem terribly fond of. This wasn’t the original Robin, the “character-find of 1940”; that Robin was Dick Grayson and he had graduated from sidekick to bona fide hero who fronted a group of evil-fighting adolescents, The Teen Titans. In 1983, it was decreed that Robin should grow up and assume a crime-fighting identity of his own—become his own man, as befitted the leader of the mighty Titans. He left Batman’s world to assume the name, costume, and persona of Nightwing. Gerry Conway and Don Newton replaced him with a second Robin, Jason Todd, whose biography was virtually identical to that of Dick Grayson. Why not? Gerry and Don were not trying to innovate, they were simply filling a void. The assignment they were given was simple: Provide another Robin. Quickly and with as little fuss as possible.

In 1986, Max Allan Collins inherited the Batman writing assignment and told his editor he had an idea for an improved Jason Todd. Make him a street kid, Collins said. Make his parents criminals. Have him and Batman on opposite sides at first. Sounded fine to the editor and, since DC was in the middle of a vast, company-wide overhaul of storylines anyway, Collins was told to go ahead. I was the editor; I did the telling. And I’d do it again, today. Collins’s Robin was dramatic, did have story potential. But readers didn’t take to him. I don't know now, and will probably never know why. Jason was accepted as long as he was a Dick Grayson clone, but when he acquired a distinct and, Collins and I still believe, more interesting backstory, their affection cooled. Maybe we—me and the writers who followed Collins—should have worked harder at making Jason likeable. Or maybe, I guessed, on some subconscious level our most loyal readers felt Jason was a usurper. For whatever reason, Jason was not the favorite Dick had been. He wasn’t hated, exactly, but he wasn’t loved, either. Should we write him out of the continuity? It didn’t seem like a bad idea, and when we thought of the experiment that became the telephone stunt, Jason seemed the perfect subject for it. The mechanics were pretty simple: we put Jason in an explosion and gave the readers two telephone numbers they could call, the first to vote that Jason would survive the blast, the second to vote that he wouldn't.

It was successful—oh my, yes. We expected to generate some interest, but not the amount or intensity we got. As soon as the final vote was tallied—5271 for Jasons survival, a deciding 5343 against—the calls began. For most of three days, I talked to journalists, disc jockeys, television reporters. We got a lot of compliments. They ranged from a critic’s liking our stunt to the participatory drama of avant garde theater to the brilliant comedy team of Penn and Teller expressing mock envy that we beat them to “the kill-your-partner-900-number scam.” But then came the backlash, ugly and, to me at least, totally unexpected: one reporter claimed that the whole event had been rigged—that, in fact, we had decided on Jason’s demise ahead of time and staged an elaborate charade; a teary grandmother said that her grandchildren loved Jason and now we’d killed him; several colleagues accused us of turning our magazines into a “Roman circus.” Cynical was a word used. And exploitive. Sleazy. Dishonorable. Wait a minute, I wanted to reply. Jason Todd is just a phantom, a figment of several imaginations. No real kid died. No real anything died. It’s all just stories—

I would have been wrong. Batman, and Superman, and Wonder Woman and their supporting casts are quite a bit more than “just stories” if, by “stories,” we mean ephemeral amusements. They’ve been in continuous magazine publication for a half-century, and they’ve been in movies, and television shows, and in novels, and on cereal boxes and T-shirts and underwear and candy bars and yo-yos and games—thousands of ventures. For fifty years. Fifty years! Although the circulation of our magazines is relatively modest, these characters have been so enduring, so pervasive, they have permeated our collective consciousness. Everybody recognizes them. They are our post-industrial folklore and, as such, they mean much more to people than a few minutes’ idle amusement. They’re part of the psychic family. The public and apparently callous slaying of one of their number was, to some, a vicious attack on the special part of their souls that needs awe, magic, heroism.

We had promised to abide by the telephone poll, and we would. But within a few days, it became apparent that we’d have to begin growing another Robin. We had forgotten that Batman exists outside the pages of our comics, is not the exclusive property of DC’s editorial staff; because he is both popular and imperishable, hundreds of others have some legitimate interest in him (not the least of whom are the readers who, for one reason or another, had missed the voting.) Our medium may have kept him alive, but others have added immeasurably to his success. When we began hearing from them, the consensus was that a Batman without a Robin wasn't quite a Batman. I wasn’t surprised. Nor did I disagree, particularly. So our problem became: how to create Robin III without generating the hostility that plagued poor Jason. Dick Grayson was the answer. If, as we thought, readers felt Jason had somehow usurped Dick’s place, then we should link the new Robin to Dick—give Robin III his predecessor’s stamp of approval. One writer had done almost all of the Dick Grayson material DC had published for a decade: Marv Wolfman, co-creator (with George Pérez) of the New Teen Titans. That made Mary the first, and really only, choice to undertake the task of giving Batman a new helper. And if we were using Marv, why not have some of the story happen in the pages of THE NEW TITANS, which he was already writing, and thus be able to take advantage of the very considerable talents of Marv's collaborator on the Titans, George Pérez? George volunteered to co-plot the story with Mary and do layouts on the TITANS episodes, and editor Mike Carlin enlisted Tom Grummett and Bob McLeod to complete George's graphics work. I asked the regular BATMAN artists, Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo, to handle the BATMAN issues. Finally, we chose a name for Robin III—Tim Drake—and, after a couple of editorial conferences, six gifted gentlemen retired to do what they do best.

The result seemed worthy of being collected between one set of covers, to be read as a graphic novel. We decided to do that and you’re holding the result. I hope you enjoy it. But please don’t think it’s the end of the Robin III saga. Dick Grayson’s lasted 50 years, after all, and Tim Drake does have his blessing.

Dennis O’Neil

April 1990

[justwinginglife]

Always You Part 2

Part 1.5 Here

At the same time that I dedicate this angst to my bestie @amaturesposts, I also apologize profusely to my other bestie @adaizel. I will make us happy, somewhere, somehow, with some Soshiro at some point.

Soshiro wasn’t sure what he expected after years of being apart from you, but it was not this.

You said you’d never date another Defense Force officer, and now you were engaged to one. And of all the people in the world, it had to be Gen Fucking Narumi that you were engaged to.

Soshiro used to come home complaining about Narumi, bitching about the latest stunt he’d pulled, or the stupidest thing he said, and you’d try to make Soshiro feel better by compiling insult after insult for this man you’d never met before. He loved the shit out of you every time. You were always team Soshiro, it didn’t matter the day, didn’t matter the offense, didn’t matter if you knew the other person, if you heard their side or not, you were always on his side. You were always his.

He didn’t know a version of you that wasn’t his. You’d been in love with him since the moment you met him- a fact that he’d always held over your head, teased you endlessly about, but had found extremely endearing all the same. And when he found out that he was your first relationship, he eagerly laid claim to all your firsts from there on out. 

When he asked you out, you -not knowing how this whole thing worked- assumed he’d kiss you right away, seal the deal. When you closed your eyes, awaiting his lips, he had chuckled and kissed your closed lids, telling you that just for your impatience he was going to make you wait and kiss you when you least expected it. 

“Are you going to kiss me now?” You’d say, after you just got promoted to Platoon Leader. He’d kiss your cheek, your nose, your forehead, every inch of you, but he still wouldn’t kiss your lips.

“Are you going to kiss me now??” You’d demand after you’d gotten injured in a particularly harrowing battle, causing him to almost burst a lung rushing to your side. He was too out of breath to kiss you then.

And then one day, you were sweeping the kitchen, your hair tied back in a messy bun, your glasses sliding down your nose as you inspected every inch of the floor for dust, and he’d become overwhelmed with love for you. He swept you off your feet and gave you the most mind blowing first kiss you could’ve ever hoped for. When you asked why he had kissed you at such a random, uneventful time, he said he didn’t need a fancy occasion to love on his girlfriend. You ended up dropping the broom because once he had gotten a taste of you, he couldn’t stop.

And he had this obsession that he needed to make a memory with you in every corner of this city, so he frequently took you out on dates, every place more new and exciting than the last. He hadn’t thought at the time that all he’d be doing would be mapping out the remains of a once-great-love, this city one big reminder of his tremendous loss, as he imagined your ghost skipping down the sidewalk, dancing around a lamppost in the rain, pointing out the sights, smiling like the moment would last forever. 

He wished he’d snapped a photo right then and there. He wished he’d taken more photos of you in general. He would’ve used them as fuel for his fiction, used them to imagine you were still his. He wished he’d done a lot of things when he was with you. Loved you louder. Loved you better. Loved you more. He couldn’t stand the thought that the only pieces of you he’d ever have were in the past. 

He had intended to be your first and your last. He had intended lots of things. He wasn’t sure where everything went so wrong. 

Maybe it was the gradual distance between you two, the early hours and long nights at work taking their toll. Maybe it was his insecurities seeping in after every surprise visit from his brother ended the same every time, with Soichiro being a little too close to you, his fondness a little too obvious, a little too many times. Maybe it was the fear that you had planned your whole life around him, marriage, babies, house with a white picket fence, the whole deal, and he wasn’t sure that he could give it to you, he wasn’t ever sure he’d make it to the next sunrise. Maybe it was all these maybes that amounted to one certainty- that he wasn’t enough for you. And so he made the worst decision of his entire life: he left.

He had wanted you to move on, he had wanted you to be happy. But he was shocked at just how bitter he was to find that happiness came at the hands of Gen Narumi. He hadn’t expected you to wait for him, but now he found himself wishing you had. Maybe some part of him always thought you’d be his. He was always yours. 

He wondered if he misunderstood the depths of your feelings for him. If when you laced your fingers with him late at night, as you snuggled against his bare chest, whispering you loved him, if you hadn’t meant more than anything. If when you cleaned and dressed every wound he sustained, kissing the bandages softly so as to not hurt him, then murmured that you’d stay by his side and watch over him, if you hadn’t meant forever. 

You hadn’t been his first girlfriend, but you had been his first heartbreak. 

And he felt the sting of that everyday, even more so now that he knew you were engaged. But he had been almost engaged and he’d changed his mind for you. He wondered if you’d do the same for him. He didn’t want to wonder. He didn’t want to dream. 

But still, he pictured stealing you at the altar anyway. He pictured riding off with you into the sunset. Pictured kissing away all your doubts and despairs. Being heartbroken made him depressingly romantic. He wasn’t sure who he was supposed to be romantic for now that it wasn’t for you. 

He wondered if Narumi was a romantic. He wondered if Narumi even knew how to treat a woman, let alone how to treat you. Did he know that you were deathly allergic to lavender? Did he know that you’d order your coffee black but add cream when no one was looking? Did he know that you had a sensitive spot on your hip and a single stroke would get you going? Soshiro was sure Narumi would never know you as well as he did. 

It was these musings that finally brought him to his feet, brought him to your door. 

If you were surprised, you didn’t show it. You almost looked like you’d been waiting for him to show up at your door every day since he’d left. It gave him hope. 

“H-hi.” He stuttered, soaking in the sight of you. He always loved when you wore your bun messy like that. 

You laughed. “It’s been how many years, Soshiro? And now, you show up out of the blue, and that’s all you have to say to me? I thought I remembered the Vice Captain of the Third Division was a big talker, now he’s rendered speechless?”

“O-only when I’m around you.”

You searched his eyes, trying to find some hidden meaning, some purpose behind his visit. “Why are you here Soshiro?”

He winced at your words. You were getting straight to the point and he suddenly found himself terrified. Even for just a single moment, he hoped he could simply be a man standing on a pretty woman’s doorstep, enjoying her company, enjoying her laugh, like two strangers finding common ground, instead of the strangers that you actually were, lost to each other, star-crossed, once each other’s worlds, now existing in separate planes.  

Finally, after steadying his breathing, after begging his heart to calm, he spoke. “You know why I’m here.”

“Soshiro,” You warned.

He found his words came easier to him now, like they’d always been there, like they’d been waiting for him to steel his nerve. “Please, I need you to hear me out. I have regretted leaving you every day of my life, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much as I would regret not fighting for you right now, so I need you to hear me. I know you’re engaged, I know you’re done with me, I know we’re through, but I have to beg you to come back to me, to come home to me. I have to, because I don’t know how to do anything else but beg, but be yours. I’m yours. I always have been. And maybe some part of you is mine too. And I’m asking that part of you to please give me a chance. Let me make it up to you. Let me love you.”

You sigh and it breaks his fucking heart. He knows that sigh. 

“Soshiro, I’ll always love you. You’re right. There is a part of me that’s always been yours and always will be yours. But that part of me watched you walk away, that part of me watched you love another person. That part of me has been buried for so long, has been bruised and battered for so long. Gen picked me back up again. He made me remember how to love and be loved. I can’t just abandon him. Not when he saved me when you couldn’t. So, yes. I’ll always love you. But I choose to love him more.” Some part of Soshiro knew it would end this way. He knew on the arduous trek over here, when he walked so far, for so long, when his feet bled for you, just to get to your doorstep, he knew that it would only end in more pain. He knew he’d given you up and therefore given up all right to have you, given up all right to your future. But still, he had to try. He always had to try. He owed his love that much. 

And even if it was his turn to watch you love another, even if his heart ached so bad he wanted to claw it out, even if his tears burned so bad he thought he’d go blind, it was only his punishment that had long been overdue.

He’d live the rest of his life alone, clinging to the small part of you that would always be his. It would never be enough for him, but it would keep him company when the nights were cold and long, when the bed was vastly empty, when he got drunk on the memory of your voice and the random liquor in his cabinet, when he missed you the most.  

So even though he was hurting, he was isolated, he was devastated, he was still yours, body and soul. Though his destiny was doomed, it was a path that he chose. He chose the pain. He chose the lonely. He chose the wreckage. He’d never have your heart again, but he’d never lie to his heart again. 

Because he chose you.

Always you.

[callmelola111]

K.O. ♡ e.w. oneshot

 ✄ - - - -   inspo track   - - - -   bull believer- wednesday

synopsis: as hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you.

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.8k

      | ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is in a toxic relationship with a man (sexuality isn’t mentioned in huge detail so feel free to hc however you like—they could be bi, pan or just a lesbian with very real comp het), coming out scene (refers to self as “gay”), heavy swearing, descriptions of intense violence + gore, cheating (bf on reader), underage drinking + use of marjuana (18), reader is called a slur (dyke)

a/n: hi hellooo, long time no see! **first, a quick disclaimer: this isn't realistic, there is a complete lack of morals and an unethical/dangerous amount of violence that i wouldn't condone irl. but alas this is fan fiction based off a M rated game whose whole basis is violence, sooo plz keep that in mind when reading.** anywaysss... i’ve been obsessed with this song for months now and it sparked a little oneshot idea so here it is. not exactly my usual stuff, more of a passion project as i process my hatred for men as a lesbian who used to date them. soooo i guess this one goes out to my small town comp het girlies who love ellie williams. thanks for all the support!! ♡~ lola

In the south it never really felt like a true winter. All the holidays that came along with it never felt real either. Christmas was dull and New Years was even worse. After spending the last 18 years of your life in a small hick town, it felt like no use to wish for some “better future”. You were damned from the start. Sure it was a new year, but it was the same old shit and you knew nothing was gonna change until you got out of this hell hole.

Just 6 more months of pretending, you’d tell yourself. 6 more months of bending over backwards to please your overbearing parents. 6 more months of mediocre sex with your shitty boyfriend that you weren’t even sure you liked. 6 more months of artificial conversations with your estranged friend group from middle school who claim to “not get you” anymore. But at this point, as every little thing ate away at you, you weren’t sure if you could keep up your act for much longer. Especially tonight, where you’d be faced with the challenge of appeasing all 3. 

December 31st, 9:00pm:

Adorned in a matching set of mint green pjs you sat patiently on your bed waiting for the go-ahead. Like clockwork, your parents gave a small knock and pushed open your door from its cracked position. It always annoyed you how they knocked, pretending to respect your privacy while simultaneously enforcing a “no closed doors” rule. You thought at 18 they would’ve let it go, but no. 

“Well hun, me and your mother are heading out now. We don’t expect to be back till the morning… Ya know, just to be safe while taking part in all the ‘festivities’.” Your dad chuckled, throwing up some air quotes. Your mom stood deadpan waiting for him to wrap up his little bit before butting in.

“No plans for the evening, right?” She phrased her words like a question but you knew this was just her way of subtleing enforcing the stupid rules you’ve followed your whole life.

“Of course not momma. Probably just gonna watch Gilmore Girls reruns and then go to sleep before any fireworks start up.” You gestured to your pjs but your perfectly made bed said otherwise. See, you knew this little routine like the back of your hand. You knew just what to do and just what to say in order to lure your parents into a false sense of security. While they stood in the frame of your door wishing you a goodnight, your party clothes hung on the other side of it, just out of their view.

December 31st, 9:30pm:

A loud honking blared from just outside your bedroom window. You ushered the sheer curtains open and glared out at the little sedan sputtering in your driveway. Your hands ran down your face followed by a big sigh. It’s not like you didn’t know your boyfriend Jax was coming to pick you up for the new years party that night, you had planned it just days before. But unbeknownst to him, the only reason you reached out was because you didn’t have a ride and tonight was one of the few times your parents wouldn’t be around to police curfew. 

You climbed into the passenger seat already cringing at the unidentifiable smell and litters of trash covering the floor. Forcing a smile to your face you greet the grimey boy sitting at the wheel with a wave.

“Come onnnn, not even a kiss? You must be real happy to see me, huh?” You grit your teeth, squeeze both eye’s shut, and lean in for a peck to appease his complaints. 

“Of course I’m happy to see you babe.” This was a lie. Something you had become quite good at these past few years, even lying to yourself at times. The rest of the car ride was silent, leaving you to ponder this drudgery of a relationship. You weren’t quite sure when things shifted or if there was ever an attraction at all, but after a year together and college approaching you just decided to ride it out until the inevitable. And part of you recognized the same in him, so there was never any guilt about it. 

December 31st, 9:45pm:

Alcohol was the first thing on your mind as soon as the car went into park. The door to the house was propped wide open, inviting in teens of the small town. Some top 10 hit boomed from a speaker nested in the main living area, not really your style—at least not sober. You scavenged the kitchen for a clean solo cup to designate as your own and began the journey to drunkenness. Jax followed in suit with a couple bottles of beer. The harsh burn in your throat lingered but the alcohol's effect was already beginning to take off the edge that was your life.

You attempted to initiate some conversation with the man who had brought you here but he was too busy texting to listen. So consumed with the glow of his screen, you couldn’t help but peek to see what was so interesting. As soon as you got a glimpse you wished you had been less nosey. His attention was not being stolen by a dumb Instagram reels, but actually, a long string of texts with a girl whose name you didn’t recognize. Your stomach pinged at his possible infidelity. Partly because he was your boyfriend but mostly because you’d spent months convincing yourself to like him, to stay with him, to be a good girlfriend—and he could care less. All this work and effort on your part was simply discarded with his unloyal behavior. It was all for nothing. But hey, maybe you were just drawing conclusions. It could just be a friend. Right?

December 31st, 10:15pm:

Jax had finally shifted his attention back to you before his screen lit up again causing you to retaliate in irritation. You swiped up the cracked device before he had the chance and began to scroll.

“Can’t you just silence it? What is soooo fucking importan-.” Your voice caught at the sight of flirty messages littering the screen.

“Are-are you fucking cheating on me?” You instantly questioned.

“Bro no! Give me my fucking phone back!”

“Who the fuck are you texting then? ‘Mary Jane’,” you spouted in a mocking tone, “no way is that someone's real name. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s a joke between me and my cousin. Now would you chill?”

“Your cousin?? You call your cousin baby?? I mean, I knew this town was full of hicks but I didn’t know y’all were those kinds of hicks.” The alcohol was giving you a little too much courage as your taunting waded into dangerous territory.

“The fuck did you just say? Don’t fucking test me! Can’t even handle a couple shots without getting all crazy on me!!”

“Crazy?? I’m being fucking reasonable. Literally any other person would be bothered by this just as much as me.”

“You know what, just fuck off. We can talk when you stop being such a delusional bitch.” He then disappeared into the living room, landing onto the couch, leaving you alone with your anger. 

December 31st, 10:30pm:

You stood idle, bubbling over with emotion, eye’s filling with tears when a wet sensation hit your upper lip. Its flow grew stronger and began to trickle onto your hands where your gaze was locked. Deep red stained your palms- a random nosebleed. It was like a sign from the universe. A sign that you weren’t crazy. In fact, you might be one of the only sane people in this whole damn town. Stuck in your reverie, blood continued to drip on your hands, your shirt, your lips- everywhere. That is until a kind eyed girl slipped you a dish towel to stop the flow. 

“Uh hey, your nose is bleeding.” You snapped your head up finally acknowledging the moment in full.

“Shit thanks, sorry…” Your face went hot realizing how long you had been just standing still, letting the blood fall where it may. The heat doubled, spreading to your ears when you finally acknowledged the person who had witnessed the whole thing. Ellie Williams. You had never formally met but knew of her existence, as she had kind of a reputation around school. There wasn’t anything inherently bad about her (at least in your opinion), she just didn’t fit the mold of most residents in your town. Therefore, she was a target for people's prejudices, especially being the only out lesbian in your senior class. Despite everyone else’s thoughts, you really admired her. You wished you had that type of courage.

“It’s no problem…” the auburn haired girl glanced down deciding what to say next before lifting her gaze back up to you. “Not to be nosey, I know you don’t really know me, but like… are you okay?”

Head tilted back, you gave a nasally reply, “Oh me? Yeah, yeah uh- I’m okay” 

“No offense but uh, you don’t look that okay.” she gestured to your bloody everything.

“Alright so I’m not okay, you got me.” You looked down to your now crimson stained blouse and scrubbed frantically at the chiffon material trying to reprimand the damage.

“Here, here– You can just take my flannel to cover it up, I promise I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Before you could say anything else, Ellie was sliding the warm garment over your shoulders and guiding you into the arm holes. It was dark blue, in a faded plaid pattern, and smelled of pine and incense. The girl was now left barren in just her white tank– and all for you.

“Yeah of course.” She then took it a step further, buttoning you up. You watched as her dexterous fingers worked up from the bottom of the shirt to the top, brushing you at each maneuver. A little jab into the plush right under your naval, a swipe past your ribs, and a tap at your collarbones. The quick, unexpected interaction left you completely flustered and you weren’t quite sure why.

“Thank you.” was all you could say. 

“Sooo… do you wanna talk about it?” At this point, Ellie was completely enamored with you from the way you handled yourself with Jax. She had this unusual feeling, a feeling like she needed to protect you. A feeling that you were different from most. Maybe you were even a little like her?

“Honestly, yeah. My friend Samara was supposed to be here tonight but I guess she decided not to show, and I’m starting to wish I didn’t either.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m glad you’re here. Come on now, follow me.” Ellie led the way to a set of stairs at the edge of the living room. You snaked right past the couch where Jax was drunkenly passed out, mumbling obscenities at his phone. Of course, he paid no mind to you. The idiot was too consumed with himself to even wonder if you were okay.

December 31st, 11:00pm:

You and the sweet girl sat on the rough carpeted step talking about everything under the sun. Ellie was the first person in a really long time who you felt you could be honest with.

“So you think he’s cheating on you?” she questions trying to clarify the few bits of dialogue she heard while watching from afar.

“I know he is. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” Ellie put her head down staring at the laces of her dirty converse. You felt so unreadable, making her unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. “So00, how do you feel about it all then?”

“I don’t know, I guess angry.” you answered with a remarkably solemn tone. 

“What about… sad?”

Like second nature, you instantly thought of a less than honest answer until Ellie’s attentive green eyes brought you back to Earth. 

“It feels like… I’m supposed to be sad, but I can’t. In a twisted, confusing way, I’m honestly kinda relieved. So fucking pissed, but relieved.” Ellie’s lids widened, this was an answer she wasn’t expecting at all–but one she was glad to hear.  

“I can’t blame you, he does kinda seem like a piece of shit.”

“And his dick is small too.” you quipped, making Ellie chuckle under her breath.

“Maybe I’m reading into things, but… it seems like you never really liked this guy in the first place.” 

You took a guilty pause before confirming, “Maybe…”

“So why haven’t you broken up with him?” Ellie was genuinely curious. She thought if it was her in the situation she definitely would’ve gotten rid of that Jax guy long, long ago. Who would wanna keep around a douche bag like that?

“Being with Jax felt convenient. He felt like my ticket to ‘normalcy’.” You put your head down in slight shame but continued the explanation. “I got so caught up in my image that I neglected how I actually felt. I was doing everything to please everyone but me.”  Ellie scooted in one inch to the left, now connecting your thighs and bringing in a sense of comfort.

“Trust me, I understand. This town is fucking ruthless.”

“God yeah, the things I’ve heard people say about you are seriously fucked up. I don’t know how you do it.” A beat of silence lingered as Ellie articulated her thoughts.

“I think… community. I mean, obviously most of the people at our school look down on me, but all it takes is one singular person to be right there with you and then things don’t feel so bad. I guess for me, I can’t imagine being anything but myself. Like completely myself.” The girl looked up from the hangnail she was picking at as she spoke and was met with your tear filled eyes. “Fuck, did I say something?”

Your hand shot up to quickly wipe away the floodgates threatening to fall, “No, no. It’s just that you’re right,” you stuttered, choking down another cry, “an-and, I wish I would've realized it sooner because these past 4 years have been like hell. I don’t wanna be the cookie cutter straight girl anymore. I just wanna be me.”

Ellie then placed a gentle hand to your knee and brought her eyes to meet your own, “And what might that be?”

“Gay. Like really fucking gay.” you said through teary-eyed laughs as Ellie joined in with her own hearty chuckle.

“Welcome to the club.” she said, sticking out a strong hand for you to shake. You grasped it tightly as her warm palm guided you up and down, her touch lingering just a little longer than the gesture itself. As you collected yourself you whipped out a small pocket mirror to touch up the smudged mascara littering your undereyes. Ellie admired in silence. She was in pure awe of your resilience, and when you were finished with your clean up, you turned back to realize what had just gone down.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you considering we just met. It’s weird how things I’ve never even said out loud before can come out so easily around a stranger.”

Ellie nudges you with her shoulder, “I guess I just have that effect, huh?”

“I guess you do.” you sighed, nudging her back.

December 31st, 11:15pm:

The two of you continued your banter until a cold breeze from the back door gave Ellie a brilliant idea.

“Dare I say… you look like you need a blunt?” she said with a mischievous smirk.

“No, please. It's exactly what I need.”

Ellie then reached into the pocket of her baggy jeans, “I guess it’s your lucky day then.” she said, revealing the most perfectly wrapped blunt you’d ever seen.

“You’re actually god sent Ellie. How are we just now meeting?” The auburn-haired girl gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to the backyard. As she pushed the white panel door open, every single ounce of weight that had been lifted off from that one singular conversation, all came crashing back down. Ellie and you weren’t the only ones who adventured outside into the brisk night air. Right on the porch stood Jax, accompanied by your “friend” Samara, who up until this point you didn’t even think was coming. The piece of shit was practically sucking her face off before the creaking sound of the back door sent them 5 feet apart.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” you yelled, eyes growing dark with rage. Ellie just stood and watched from the corner.

“Babe, please! I swear it’s not what you think!” Jax stumbled forward, attempting to grasp at your figure.

“Don’t you dare try and touch me! You don’t even deserve to look at me. It’s over Jax. I’m done being suffocated by your never ending bullshit!” Knuckles clenched, you continued your lashings, this time at Samara. “I-I thought we were friends. What happened to that?”

“You don’t even like him. You should be thanking me.” she spat. 

“You really don’t get it, huh? This has nothing to do with me liking Jax or not, you completely betrayed our friendship the second you started fucking him behind my back. Friends don’t fuck each other boyfriends Samara!” Before she could even respond Jax was dragging her away, flipping you off on the way inside.

“Ellie-” you squeaked, trembling in shock. 

“Come here, it’s okay love.” she whispered, parting her arms to make a safe space just for you. You collapsed into the warm cavity and relinquished the buckets of tears you had been saving for the moment someone actually gave a fuck. And Ellie did. She never let go of you even for a second as you crumbled under her.

“Jeez I’m sorry.” you said after minutes of pure silence, lifting your head to meet Ellie’s green eyes. 

“For what?”

“For being a drunk mess, crying to you about a man, and also, I think I got a little snot on your shirt.” you tried to laugh it off but you really just wanted to disappear.

Taking your face in her palms Ellie reassured you, “hey, hey no need to be sorry pretty girl. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Besides, I think I look kinda good with this huge ass wet spot in the middle of my tank top. What do you think?” You stepped back and took a look at the damage, and honestly, she was kinda right. With the white cotton material you could see right through to her toned stomach, barely missing the bottom of her breasts. 

“Fine, yes. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d kill to see you in a wet shirt Ellie.”

“Lucky you then.” she said, playfully nudging your shoulder.

You couldn’t help it as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“There’s that smile. Soooo… blunt now?”

“Yes. Blunt.”

December 31st, 11:30pm:

And just like that, you were halfway through the chestnut wand of herbs and deep in conversation.  

“So you really haven't seen But I’m a Cheerleader?” Ellie asked, blowing out a puff of smoke with the question and passing it on.

You took the blunt from between her fingers and let it rest between your own, “No. Should I have?” 

“Definitely dude, it’s like queer classic.”

“Oh yeah?” You cocked your head at the freckled faced girl. 

“Yeah. And now that I’m thinking about it, you’re honestly just like the main character.”

“How so?” you asked, taking another long draw. 

“She’s in denial about being gay for like the first 30 minutes of the movie.”

A string of coughs unleashed from your chest as you let out a hefty laugh mid-inhale, “Bitch-”

“What? I��m being so deadass!”

“Fine, what character are you then?” you pry, passing the lit blunt back over to Ellie.

Taking a hit she replies, “I guess I’d be graham.”

“And what does she do?”

“I’m kinda like your awakening in a sense. Graham is all gay and cool, and of course Megan—that's you—totally falls for her.” 

You retrieve the lit cannabis and roll your eyes, “I haven’t fallen for you yet Williams.”

“Yet.” she emphasizes, placing a soft finger to the tip of your nose tauntingly.

“Ha. Ha.” you monotonously mock, “Now here, I think it’s done.” You hand Ellie the roach and she promptly stubs it out into the concrete slab deck.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m fucking cold.” she pleas.

“Dude I’m scared. Like I am way too fucked up for this.”

“No, no– I promise you’re fine. I’ll protect you.” 

“Fineee.” you drag out.

December 31st, 11:50pm:

Things were seemingly fine as you and Ellie entered the muggy living area of the packed house once more. Your hesitancy was quite clear though and Ellie could sense you needed just a little reassurance. Your right hand, currently picking away at the hangnail on the thumb of your left, was quickly captured by Ellies own rough hand which led you back to your comfortable spot on the ascending stair set.

As you both took a seat your grip remained tight on the girl, afraid that if you let go you might jump up from your spot right then and there just to give Jax one more lesson. Just the sight of him through the slats of the stairs’ wooden railing—legs casually spread wide and eyes focused in on a casual game of Mortal Kombat—drove you fucking crazy. 

“Dude if you keep staring like that you might actually burn a hole through his dumb ass T-shirt.” Ellie said, nudging your tensed shoulder.

“Good it’s ugly anyways.”

“Fair point.”

“I just have this burning need to get back at him. I wanna beat his ass just like in that game he can’t take his eyes off.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned before laying a soft punch to the girl's forearm. A string of dramatic “Ows” reverberated from her lips. “See, I’m a badass right?”

“Fine you’re a total badass” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing the soft tissue of her arm where you had left your mark. 

“What? It hurt that bad? You need me to kiss it better?” you taunted. 

“Maybe I do.” she said, longing eyes staring into your own. 

You gulped down any hesitation and felt it drop straight to your nervous stomach, “Where does it hurt?”

Ellie pointed to her arm slowly, “here.”

You placed a soft peck.

Hot breath raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, “and here”, she gestured to her outstretched neck

Another supple kiss.

“And um-” she continued, but was quickly cut off and brought back to reality with the bellowing sound of a countdown. Too caught up in the moment, you both had almost forgotten about the holiday currently taking place.

FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted frantically, and with no words you dove into her plump, chapped lips. Just like a puzzle piece your bottom lip slotted perfectly between her own. It was a gentle and delicate kiss at first, drinking in the euphoric moment. Quickly though, soft maneuvers of the mouth got quicker and harder. Spit was exchanged with passion and need, as your hands were becoming grabby at the girl's toned figure. The heat growing between your legs was an easy distraction from the fact that you were at a large party, in a hick town, with your ex-boyfriend now hovering over your more than friendly exchange.

January 1st, 12:01am:

“The fuck? You’re a dyke now?” he yells, practically loud enough for the whole party to hear. You and Ellie frantically pull apart, bumping heads in the process.

The calloused hands that were once caressing the small of your back are now balled into tight fists as Ellie rises from her seated position.

“The fuck did you just say?” she questions, tilting her head to the right.

You now stand up with her, worried where this might go, “Jax you need to walk away.”

“Oh shut up slut. You’re so fucking desperate you’d do it with anyone!” 

That one hurt. That was the tipping point. Tears welled in your eyes. 

“I’M NOT A FUCKING SLUT! I’M GAY AND NEVER LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“You need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret, you dirty bitch.” he threatens. And that's it, Ellie takes a swing aiming straight for his nose. Her fist retracts and reveals his bloody and now crooked cartilage. Through clenched teeth Jax grips onto Ellies white tank, throwing her into the open space of the living room. Just like a car crash, it’s one of those things where a scene can be so disturbing but you just can’t look away. And everyone else in the room was feeling it too—backed into corners, hands over mouths, some men even obnoxiously chanting “fight, fight.” But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all.

“STOP! YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT!” you screamed desperately. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jax would do to the freckled girl who changed your life in mere hours. But you didn’t have to, because here they were, brawling it out for the whole school. Jax swung at Ellie’s head to which she ducked before jabbing him in the stomach, stealing whatever air was swimming in his lungs. He stumbled backwards 3 steps, coughing through the hit, but this just made him angrier.

He charged back at the flustered girl with more force and gained a grip on a wad of choppy auburn hair. With a forceful yank she came tumbling to the ground with him on top. Ellie wriggled, pushed, and kicked but the sheer weight of the furious man was enough to keep her pinned. Jax began punching left and right, capturing her face with each blow. Thick crimson decorated his knuckles and the entirety of the girl's face. You could barely make out her litter of freckles and the half-lidded slits of emerald green—it was blood, all blood.

But as Jax kept on going, and the room grew quieter, this fight turned into something much more serious. It was inching on life or death and you had to do something. You surveyed the room, eyes dancing from counter to counter until a large glass beer bottle nagged at the tips of your fingers. Grabbing it tightly in your fist, you did what you had to to end this. Glass and gasps scattered through the room. The sharp brown shards littered the floor and evoked a gushing red stream from the back of Jax’s head. He instantly rolled to the side leaving Ellie an opening to escape. You weren’t done yet though, he hadn’t gotten what he deserved yet. Falling to the floor right at his body, hot tears streamed down your face.

Through curses and screams you thrashed at the man's barely conscious frame, “FUCK YOU JAX! FUCK YOU!” This was for every time he made you feel stupid, for making you feel like the ugliest girl in the room, for all the times he kissed you while you just prayed for it to be over, for making your life a living hell. With each scratch, punch, and kick all the pent up anger and resentment drained from your soul. Ellie let you have at him for a bit but as the crowd started to thin she knew the cops would be here any second now.

“Come on! We gotta go hun!” she nagged. 

“NO I CAN’T! NOT YET” you yelled, collapsing down into tears. Ellie promptly scooped you up by your armpits and dragged you from Jax’s limp body.

“I know baby, you're angry, it’s hard. But the cops are coming and we need to leave now.” she said, picking you up completely and carrying you through the frame of the propped open front door. You nestled your head into her bloody top as your chest still rapidly rose up and down, choking on the last few streams of tears and snot. “I’m gonna get you home love, don’t you worry.”

January 1st, 12:15am:

Finally through the small window of Ellie’s red truck you spot your familiar 2 story home. She grips the steering wheel, whipping to the right into the empty driveway. Of course she helps you inside and up to your quaint little bedroom. It felt weird almost—so quiet and still after such a chaotic night—and void of any life but you and the freckled faced girl. It was a cold feeling knowing you’d be all alone in just a few minutes, and tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a feeling you wanted to know.

“Els?”

“Yeah?” she answered softly. 

“Can you stay?”

With a kiss to the head she agreed, “Of course I’ll stay.” The rest of the night was spent cuddled up under your warm comforter, and despite all the events from just hours before, you felt safe. And for once, in fucking years, you were content.

✄ - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

[phoebebuggers]

modern party high school/college headcanons that will maybe kind of end up in my text au if i ever go back to it

mike is a tote bag user and a letterboxd fanatic!! he listens to alternative rock especially weezer but he's not a music elitist he likes pop and stuff too. he still plays dnd and i feel like he probably reads like classic fantasy book bro books u know (brandon sanderson, GOT, LOTR, prolly also like steven king and stuff which the rest of the party also like.) cat person. he is such a film bro it's obnoxious and he has to shove his letterboxd account down your throat every 5 minutes after meeting you. says he's bitter and evil but would do anything for his friends (canon.) video essay watcher. dirty-ass pair of falling apart converse at the end of their life begging for mercy that he refuses to replace. ADHD diagnosis.

will loves thrifting and coffee shops and museums but not in a performative pinteresty way he just genuinely likes these things. had an art hoe aesthetic phase around 2020 and will never live it down. subverting all gay stereotypes by not knowing anything about gay/stan twitter and being happier for it. kind of a music elitist ('can i see your spotify wrapped??') but not as much as jonathan who he learned from. still loves the smiths, the cure, etc but i think he would also be into modern indie nowadays. i feel like he would have a huge chapsticks/lip balm collection bc his lips are chapped all the time and it's just like a running joke atp. major art kid draws all the time we been knew listens to podcasts while he does art. goes to therapy

lucas is still kind of a jock but i'm kinda anti jock lucas because he will never truly fit in with them he will always be a nerd first!!!! still plays basketball tho and runs cross country (all men who run cross country are a little bit unhinged and free.) wears a hairtie on his wrist in case max needs one. kind of matches will's evil music complex from the other side with objectively good music def likes tyler, brent, frank, SZA (max likes the same their music taste kind of bled into each others.) very good social media presence like color coded feed, highlights, pinterest worthy pics etc (digital camera user.) likes to cook. chronic notes app list user. wanted to be a youtuber as a kid. type of guy to say "um, guys, that was awkward!" etc etc and everyone clocks him for it

dustin is a reddit user but not in a weird incel way in a genuinely helpful and knowledgable way. he also wanted to be a youtuber because he fucking loved matpat as a kid. he also would love the green brothers. a sneakerhead. keeps his keys on a carabiner (max tells him he looks like a lesbian.) also very up to date on pop culture like max is, probably quotes that one baron trump suitcase video daily among other things. does a few very good very niche impressions. i feel like everyone in the party is a good student but dustin is definitely the best a genuis future engineer or smth. he's the friend who always has those party games but can't read a cards against humanity card without laughing (max has to read for him)

el knows it's trash but loves reality TV (real housewives) and also glee. probably volunteers a lot. she was probably like the most boy-crazy fictional man/celebrity obsessed tween but ended up being bisexual/questioning lesbian. chronic story liker and responder so everyone thinks she's in love with them but she's actually just really nice and maybe doesn't 100% understand the social cue. she was also in theater because i want her to be her own genre of nerd maybe not in big roles because i don't see her as someone who loves being the center of attention but in ensemble. type of person to make goals like "try a new type of apple every week for a year".

max is up to date on tiktok/internet memes and kind of speaks fluent reference. probably watches real housewives and dance moms with el (will will join in occasionally for glee.) she also thrifts a lot of her clothes and has very cool style in kind of an idgaf what anyone else thinks way. huge flannel collection. does stage crew. i know she skateboards in canon and she still would but i feel like she would also do roller-derby or like speed skating or something. similar music taste to lucas but also a swiftie from a young age. had a panic at the disco phase and did crazy 2020 eyeliner (it's not a phase, mom) and will never live it down. keeps a journal. goes to therapy

bonus:

mike and max never shut the fuck up during class and always have to whisper something objectively hilarious to each other/one of their friends while the teacher is talking

will el and max have a book club where at least someone lies about having read the book every month and they spend the whole meeting gossiping and eating snacks

will forced them all to get airbuds and airbuds reacts mike listening to mcr with mildly disappointed faces and cat emojis

mike and dustin had a phase where they were really into like conspiracy theories and UFOs and cryptids and stuff

lucas bought a stanley cup with no shame because 'it's so functional'

el is an ex-larry

[aulescev]

Prisoner König x Nurse Reader

Soooo, I made a fanfiction where Monster!König is a prisoner, while the reader is a nurse at a maximum security prison. I'm so excited to share it with everyone, but also kinda anxious because I never really had someone read my works, let alone post a fanfiction I made (っ ̩̆╭╮ ̩̆)っ Anyway, here it is! Hope my writing will find a place in your heart somehow!

The Confinement, To you, the nurse who loves overstepping her boundaries, be careful and take this warning seriously, or else, the monster that lives under a man’s skin might devour you whole.

Nurse Reader x Prisoner König, hate to love trope.

!! Warning, this story contains: Dub-con/Non-con, Gore descriptions, Death, Poisoning, Manipulation, Obsession, Suicide, Possessive and Controlling tendencies, and Immorality. Heavily NSFW, minors DO NOT interact. Do inform me if I missed any.

!! Proceed at your own discretion

Disclaimer: I only have basic knowledge about prison, and what prison nurses are assigned to do inside its secured walls. The same thing goes for prisoners. Consider this a fictional work based in an alternative universe, only with the same countries, and stuff but with monsters + altered laws and rights to fit the story. So take this as it is, or shoo away. You can give me a few tips so I can take note of them, but please, be kind (｡ •́‿•̀｡ ) This is my first fan fiction, and story so yeah, expect a lot of errors + English isn’t my native language + I don’t speak German and only used a translator for this, so sorry in advance for the migraines my writing could cause you.

Chapter 01: The monster that lives under a killer’s skin.

Word Count: 3.9k

∆. 12:04:55PM of November 24, m. hallway of the prison.

You're a nurse at a maximum-security prison. Providing care for both the staff and prisoners, a right everyone equally has so even if you don't like the idea of aiding murderers, and people of such backgrounds, due to some reason, this is the only job opportunity you can take as of the moment.

Today's actually your first day, so naturally, you're shown around the workplace you now have to get yourself accustomed to.

"Most importantly, don't trust anyone other than the staff. These men are filthy, better not get your hands dirty, know what I mean?" Sir Wagner stated, the disgust in his tone is evident and it's enough to let you know how much he despises the criminals behind the bars of his prison.

Even though you would like to agree with the statement of the prison's head, you can't find it in you to despise the people in the prison as much as he does. You're a little too soft sometimes, and also of contradicting nature that makes you automatically take the opposite side of any argument even when it gains you nothing.

Sensing you won't reply— honestly, he doesn't really care if you'll reply or what, since he just wants to get this over with— the warden decided to conclude that conversation there.

"Do you have any questions?" He asked, a plain tone now as he speak, putting his hands deep inside his pocket.

"None, thank you for showing me around."

You replied in an equally plain tone, also wanting to get over it already like he does. He didn't take it personally, his years as the warden made him professional and collected most of the times. Plus, he understood your unenthusiastic nature at your new job, no one after all would be that happy to work in a prison where they keep high profile criminals.

"Well, that's great then. I'll have Benedikt here assist you while you get accustomed with your new work. Ask him when you need help, and if you have any questions." With a brief glance over to the man on his right, sir Wagner introduced the other guy that unnoticeably joined your group of two along the way.

Benedikt nodded at you when you looked at him, he's got an awkward smile forced on his face as he stretch his arms towards you for a handshake.

"Benedikt MacTavish, nice to meet you," He introduced himself, his hand hanging in the air as he wait for you to reach it.

MacTavish? Doesn’t sound like a local name. You’re glad for that, at least you’re not the only foreigner on your new workplace.

"I'm—"

"Yeah, I remember. Your surname's familiar though, Price, yeah? Are you perhaps related to a military captain?" He casually cuts off your introduction, seemingly eager to know something like he can't hold the question another second longer.

A little taken aback with how he outright talked over you, you were silent for a minute to process that fact and also his question.

"Ah, yes, right," you replied when things finally start sinking in your brain, "Well, he's actually my uncle. How come you know of him?"

Honestly, he's not related to you by blood. He's just your adoptive father's cousin, which makes him your foster uncle if that word even exists. But he doesn't need to know that much about you, what would he even do with the information if you told him?

"Ah, well, my cousin's actually the man's friend. John MacTavish? Soap? Does that ring any bells?"

"Oh, Johnny, yeah, I know the man. What a small world we live in," you smiled after hearing a familiar name, finding the coincidence a bit funny.

Finally, you took Benedikt's hand to shake it, forgetting for a moment that it's still waiting for your hand.

"Nice to meet you, Soap's cousin."

"Nice to meet you, Price's niece," he returned the introduction in the same humor, a genuine smile now plastered over his lips.

"I'll leave you two to it." Sir Wagner interfered and just left you two without another word, which is honestly weird but expected of a man his type.

"Phew, glad I found something common with you, or else it'll be hard to find an ice breaker activity," Benedikt sighed in relief after sir Wagner's finally gone from the scene, "Have you already went to the dorms? Found your room, and all?"

With a shake of your head to answer his question, you wordlessly replied no and looked at him, seeing what he'll say or do.

"Ah, alright, I can show you where it is, then we can start our rounds after. Is that alright with you?"

"Sure, thanks," You answered, your tone is a bit lively now compared to with sir Wagner earlier, since you're like a chameleon who adapts to whichever environment it's in.

You're blue when they're blue, pink when they're pink, red when they're red, and so on and so forth. A firm believer of do unto others what they've done to you. Karma? You rarely put your faith in that, you mostly take things to your hands and be the human version of the word revenge. It's not really cool, in fact, you kind of live harder because of it, but no way your ego would let go of your way of living.

Benedikt started walking, looking at his back every now and then to check if you're still following him as he quietly traversed the halls that should eventually lead to the dorms.

In the middle of your journey, you passed the center of the prison that connects all wings of the building, which means, each transported prisoner would also pass the center before getting to their assigned cell.

The tension in the central building was thick, the air is almost suffocating that it made you freeze on your spot as you try to find the cause of such unnatural atmosphere.

When your eyes landed on the now closing heavy door of the building, your gaze immediately fell to the tallest man in the middle of armed men.

He instantly caught your attention with his tall height, sticking like a sore thumb from the whole crowd.

"Benedikt, you know anything about that man?" You asked in a low voice, curious to find out who he could be, not even tearing your eyes away from the behemoth of a man.

"Ah, shit, today's his transfer, I totally forgot…" He muttered under his breath with a curse, "König, an ex-military guy. Would you believe that today's only his 8th day in prison? Like all prison days combined. He won't behave in any cell he's put in, forcing him to be transferred on new places every other day with how many crimes he commit on each one."

"What??" You uttered in disbelief, taken by a total surprise with the information.

"Yeah, I'm being totally honest right now. It's not normal that a criminal would be transferred from a normal prison to the maximum security because of misbehaving, but guess what? He's committed murder after murder in each base. That's what made him worthy of maximum security prison."

You can just try to press your lips in a thin line, an attempt to hide your disgust. Murderer… The vilest things to exist in this world. How can he live knowing the fact that he's ended a person's life? Oh, how much you loathe them.

You kept a scornful gaze towards his way, throwing daggers as if your stare alone could kill the guy. And of course, it's impossible that he wouldn't feel it, eventually staring back at you.

König, as Benedikt referred him, looked back at you straight in the eyes. Even though there were no holes in the sack that's put on over his face right now, you're certain that he turned his head just to identify who could be burning a hole on his head right now.

You feel like throwing up. Just the thought of breathing the same air as that of a murderer was enough to make you feel nauseous.

"Benedikt, let's go. Bring me to the dorms already." You said, almost pleading as the desperation to get out of his presence faintly showed.

∆. 06:39:07PM of the same day, nurses' office.

"So how was your first round?" Benedikt asked, giving you the canned sparkling water he opened just now.

"Horrible," you replied, taking the canned drink from his hand and downing it quickly.

The drink slid down your throat just like any other liquid, but it's a little painful because of the fact that it's carbonated. You just downed your drink, the bubbles popping on your throat and making you feel like it's burning your insides for a second.

Benedikt gave you a concerned look, but quickly masked it with a soft laugh, "Well, I cannot blame you… Working with criminals isn't exactly the most honorable thing out there. Plus we're understaffed, which makes the workload for each of us actually horrible."

"Yeah, right, that too," you grimaced, feeling more exhausted than how you usually do back when you were just working at the hospital, "I'm sorry Benedikt, my condolences goes to you. You're the most packed nurse here."

He chuckled, "Well, if you're sorry, take some of my patients?" He joked, which earned a laugh out of you.

Before you could even reply, there's suddenly a loud bang in the room and it wasn't a gun, it was the room's door being haphazardly thrown open by a panicking nurse who's also out of breath.

Jane, one of the nurse you've met today.

"Someone! Help! Vanessa! She's– she's wounded! Her eyes! Oh my, heavens, her eyes! We have to sedate König, where's the syringe?!" She started rummaging the room for a syringe and a drug that's supposed to put a person to a deep sleep.

Alerted, Benedikt and you stood up and helped her search for something. When Benedikt got his hand on the drug, he approached Jane and held her shoulders, trying to calm her down.

"Jane, calm down, I got it, but first, I need you to take a deep breath. You can't work with panicked nerves." He tried calling in some sense to her, but she won't calm down.

She started screaming, and started getting hysterical.

Jane, and Vanessa, you're pretty sure they got a thing with each other, maybe this is why she's acting inconsolable?

"Give me the syringe and the drug, I'll respond instead," You presented, preferred to sedate a monster rather than calming a stranger down.

Benedikt's got a better knowledge than you do, it’s better you leave them be than be left to console her with words you probably wouldn't mean. At least that's what you thought.

Benedikt pondered for a moment whether you're fit or not to handle the situation, but in the end, he decided to trust you, giving you the things after all, and also telling the number cell of König.

Rushing to the scene, with an emergency kit you grabbed in the office, you wasted no time and ran as fast as you could.

1245. Cell 1245, prisoner 190228. Must hurry up to cell 1245 before it's too late.

Eventually, you reached your destination, and unfortunately for your guts, you were met with a gore scene. There's an emptied syringe poked into one of Vanessa's eyeballs, one of her hands wrapped around the object in fear as she trembles, and cries.

There's also a whole puddle of blood under her, a lot on her white uniform, and mouth. Now that you observe her, she's also shedding tears of blood, her lips tainted red as blood continues to flow out of it.

What the fuck. This scene is fucking horrendous. What happened?

The guards are gathered around König, watchful of his steps, expectant and quite tense as they wait for him to make a move— ready to stop him from causing even more havoc. While he's not moving, König is watching Vanessa bleed on the floor with cold eyes which is honestly more frightening than him causing a scene.

He's fortunately not punching one guard after the other, so you doubt there was a need for sedating him.

Surveying the situation, you decided to change your plans of prioritizing the sedation of König, to aiding Vanessa first.

Without an inch of hesitation, you knelt in front of Vanessa, some blood soaking the edge of your white skirt. You placed the emergency kit beside you, opening it with haste until everything in the kit is visible.

"It's no use!" Vanessa cried, "The poison has–" she then frantically screamed, fumbling a few of her words as she started gagging from her own blood.

Before you could even touch her, she dropped dead on the floor. A sight that will be the reason of your nightmares for days, or weeks.

You were shaken down your core, blood suddenly cold, and heart beating extremely fast out of shock. You feel your body freeze, hands that were supposed to hold her now are hanging mid-air.

"I just saved her years in prison for murder," You heard a man's voice from behind you speak in a thick, and unexpectedly boyish accent.

You can't stop your brows from furrowing, and eyes show contempt at the mere sound of his voice, let alone his words.

"You are disgusting, a vile creature, don't you dare open that filthy mouth of yours." Unable to restrain yourself, you spit each word with venom as you slowly turn around to look at him furiously, "You are the murderer here. Don't confuse it now."

He does not speak. His eyes only staring at you through those 2 small holes on his makeshift mask.

Holding his equally piercing gaze, you stood your ground, rationality has left your body. You're acting on impulse, on your emotions, something a professional shouldn't do in this type of situation but damn, your ego is just some other kind of level. It will definitely put you on your place someday, but you thought that you should just worry about it when that time comes.

"Pathetic human. Too dumb to even think." He finally broke the silence, irritation in his voice.

Before you could even reply, he had already turned his back on you, walking back to his cell on his on will. The guards locked him up quickly after checking on him one last time.

The maximum security prison is totally different from a normal one. It's worse. Because everyone is sworn to confidentiality, no word really gets out on what's happening behind its high walls.

Prisoners in this place are like expendable pawns. The government uses them however they wish, and unsurprisingly, companies too. They have illegal control over some of the prisoners, depending on how much they paid the government for it.

Someone wants König dead, and you're not even surprised that he was already tried to be disposed of first day in. It could be a private company he used to work for, or maybe enemy, it could also be done for personal reasons. Signing up for a job here means you should expect those types of things, that's why you made sure to be adequately prepared over events like this happening during your shift.

If he was a normal person, you would've felt bad for the prejudice you have over him, but he's a convicted murderer– a serial killer at this point, so you believe that he doesn't deserve the benefit of doubt.

"A killer won't get my sympathy. That will be the last thing I'll ever do in this earth," You've uttered, anger never leaving your eyes as you sat still in your place.

∆ . 11:59:31PM of that day, staff dormitory.

With a gasp, you wake up from a shallow sleep, catching your breath as you try to recover from the nightmare you just had.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed repeatedly, frustration and distraught are clearly heard in your voice.

Fortunately, you're the only one in your room, not a shared dorm or anything, or else your hypothetical roommate would've pegged you for a madman.

Why would it be about that now of all days? You said at the back of your mind, frustrated over the dream you just had.

Desperately, you tried to swallow that thought, along with the nightmare. Fortunately, before the memory gets too vivid, the alarm on your wristwatch goes off which pulled you out of the world you’re sucked in.

It's the alarm you set the first time you got it, 12:00AM. Midnight on the dot.

You sat down, trying to calm yourself.

Ah, right, your next shift is at 12:45AM which is just 45 minutes from now. With Vanessa gone, and Jane temporarily dismissed to rest, you had to take the extra shift and give up a few hours of your precious sleep.

That reminds you, have you checked up on König as you were supposed to? Even if you hate him, you still have to do your job.

Shit, now you got to fill his report before anyone even notice or ask for it.

Reluctantly, you got out of your bed and prepared to check in early for your shift, planning to stealthily take the prisoner's record to fill it up, hopefully while no one's around to harshly criticize your tardiness on your first day.

— &

You made it to 1245 cell without any road bumps, luckily. Now all that's left is actually checking up on König which you can just frown about. Before sticking the key in the hole, you took a deep breath and tried to at least look neutral—your working face.

Counting from 1 to 5 quietly at the back of your mind, you collected yourself at 3, steeled yourself at 4, and finally, pushed the iron door open at 5 without giving yourself enough time to hesitate and get cold feet.

This prison gives each prisoner a spacious place to live in almost comfort, with only one person per room. At least that's how they do it in this part of Austria. There are quite a lot of cells after all, so they're not shy on using all of them.

"I'm your nurse, I will be checking up on you so please, sit down." You said with a firm tone, putting the bag on the bedside table where all of the essentials for vital checking should be packed.

Each nurse on duty is required to use the same bag, for both safety, and precaution.

"Ärgerlich schädling," he muttered under his unusual breathy voice which set an alarm in you.

Now that you look at it, the back of his shirt is wet, and he's panting a little. Did you really mess up big time on your first day? Shit, now you have to fix this somehow.

"Prisoner 190228," you read the number assigned to him, printed on the sheet of paper you're holding one-handedly, "I said sit down. I can't check on you properly if you're positioned that way."

It was pathetic really. Your nerves are getting the best of you, and it's hinted on your voice.

“Will nicht,” he grumbled, unmoving and unbothered.

You never really stayed in Austria that long in the past. Only a year or two to finish the last 2 years of your nursing school but your university didn’t require you to speak German so you didn’t bother getting that deep into learning the language. You’re an entry-level speaker at best, but since it’s been years already, you’ve lost that ability and can only guess what he’s saying.

“You will, now hurry up and sit down so we can get this over with.”

“Ich sagte nein, verliere dich.”

“Yes, you will. And please, I would really appreciate it if you speak in English.”

You heard his tongue clicked at that, “Warum sollten sie überhaupt eine Ausländerin einstellen? Ich bin es verdammt leid, diese verdammte sprache zu sprechen!” He groaned, almost sounding like a teenager throwing a tantrum at his bed.

He sat down on his bed after that outburst, you don’t even need to peek under that mask of his to know he’s frowning in annoyance, his eyes alone says it all.

“Awfully late to check up on me now, yeah?” He asked, begrudgingly you think, but you decided not to give attention to it.

“Did the syringe grazed you? Was it injected on you? Or did it find other ways to get into your veins?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“It did not.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am fine, so get lost.” He snapped again, his voice starting to sound like his catching his breath again.

You thought he was grinding his teeth the whole conversation, and now it made sense. He’s holding something back, and it’s probably the pain from the poison, his tone only adds up as an evidence to that.

“You are not. You’re breathless, sweating, and,” your eyes looked all over him, trying to observe his posture, to find proofs to support your claim, “…You’re sweating buckets, and shaking.”

You bit your lips, an attempt to maintain your composure as you try to find a solution.

“I need to see your face, take that mask off,” without a warning, you reached for the edge of his mask— something that you later regretted doing so.

In an instant, he has put you under him, his gloved, big hand is wrapped around your neck while the other one is gripping your wrist that was once the closest to his mask earlier.

He’s fuming in anger, the heat coming off him is immense as if he’s a steam machine. Bodies wouldn’t act normally like this against poison, not this much heat while keeping a great vigor. His body feels so different… something you’ve never seen before.

“Touch my mask once more,” He seethed through gritted teeth, anger evident in his unblinking eyes, “Then I will have to devour you.” He threatened, his hot breath and heavy body touching your skin, “Stubborn maus. Get your ass out of here before it’s too late. I won’t take responsibility for your insanity.”

This marks the end of this chapter.

[A/N: Thank you for reading this far! I'm open to gentle criticisms because my heart can't handle harsh words hsdahfw. I'll try my best to take them positively though! Notice that there are timestamps (like ∆ . and — & with the former being a longer time skip, and the latter a matter of a few minutes difference from the latest indicated time), and locations during an event. I placed them there so there would be less confusion regarding the timeline and when a particular event happened:) I added translations in the last part to keep it realistic too. Like, you're meant to not understand him much whenever he speaks German so yeah. Still, if you're curious what they translate to, the translations will be just down this note. That's all, thank you again! (´｡ • ᵕ •｡ `) ♡]

CHAPTER 01 TRANSLATIONS:

[1]: Ärgerlich schädling, Annoying pest

[2]: Will nicht, [I] don’t want

[3]: Ich sagte nein, verliere dich, I said no, get lost

[4]: Warum sollten sie überhaupt eine Ausländerin einstellen? Ich bin es verdammt leid, diese verdammte sprache zu sprechen, Why should they hire a fucking foreigner at all? I’m fucking tired of speaking that damn language

[5]: Maus, Mouse

[draculasfavoritewife]

One Taste

Summary: You've always known there was more to your pale elf companion than meets the eye -- what kind of pact is sealed in the dead of night?

Pairing: Astarion Ancunín x fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood drinking, flippant talk of death, reader is an insomniac (definitely not a recurring theme in my writing, what a strange coincidence!) Astarion's particular brand of flirtation (idk what to tell you babes, I like condescension) and unnecessarily sexual themes in vampiric feeding (What? It's hot af, so sue me).

It was only a matter of time before I hopped on the Astarion bandwagon when my former roommate started playing bg3. I wrote the first draft of this about a year ago, Christmas 2023, because I had taken a deep dive and became much more than a little obsessed with that first feeding moment. Also for a solid six months -- I kid you not -- the only thing I listened to in order to fall asleep was the 8-hour compilation of all his lines from the game lol (look it up, it's a beautiful thing) so now this man's voice is in my head at all times. It's a glorious curse to be afflicted with. Also reader is a bard because I'm a musician :)

It’s so dark here, even with the halo of the fire smoldering low in the circle of woodland where your companions are camping for the night. Every time the group of you finds a new place to stay for a few days, it’s the same old argument all over again — just how big and bright of a blaze is too much to keep a low profile, but how much light is still needed to keep the more unfriendly denizens of the night away. 

You’re a fairly patient person, had to be to survive on the streets when you were abandoned as a child, but by all the gods, sometimes waiting for the perfect opportunity to charm persuadable passers-by into tossing you a coin for your songs was easier than waiting for these companions to settle a matter with any weight to it.

So call it petty, but if occasionally you were found tuning up your mandolin by the fireside in the middle of the night and the lighter sleepers woke up cursing your name and the name of your Bardic College, you weren’t sure “sorry" was exactly the emotion you felt. 

Perhaps it was something to do with that side of you that had inexplicably connected you to the party’s temperamental rogue. You hadn’t expected at all to be the one that he turned out to be oddly fond of, but sometimes life was stranger than fiction, after all. And even if your strange…friendship of sorts had begun with one of his blades at your throat and a snarl on his lips, what indeed was a little attempted murder between friends, in his own words. 

Friends. 

The word still feels foreign to you; it’s been a long time since you had anyone you would use it for. But as long as his violent tendencies worked in your favor and not against you, he was certainly a valuable ally to have, at the very least. 

And you can’t deny that he intrigues you. 

“Darling! I thought you’d be fast asleep by now. What in the sweet hells are you still doing up at this hour?’ 

Speak of the devil. 

You turn from your seat by the ring of embers to gaze up at him, standing inquisitively over you, and can’t entirely deny the confounding way your heart always skips a beat in your chest when you see him. There’s probably a measure of residual fear there, a nice little self-preserving reminder that he could very well kill you if you don’t keep your guard up, but it’s not entirely that, either. 

No, Astarion Ancunín is a beauty among men — tall enough, though not so tall as to be intimidating, lithe and light-footed as a cat, yet broad of shoulder and chest so you suspect power matches grace. The moon is out tonight, not hiding behind its gloomy clouds for once, and the way the light plays over his alabaster skin and finely shaped features reminds you once again that he must be a high elf, though he has made no mention of ancestry or background to you so far, aside from vague references to a former “employer” that may or may not even be fully true. 

His tongue is far too silver for you to completely believe everything that leaves his mouth. 

“Insomnia,” you offer with a smile, sliding your dagger back into its sheath now that you’ve finished cleaning and sharpening it after the day’s wear. “Ironically the only nighttime lover that’s stuck around me this long, I'm afraid.” 

He clicks his tongue in theatrical pity, lowering himself to the ground beside you; you note with interest, not for the first time, that most beings in such close proximity would radiate body heat to some degree, but as with the other few times he’s been this close, it’s as if no one is beside you at all to break up the steadily chilling atmosphere.

Like his body is as cold as his cutting tone when he’s angry. 

“Well, their loss, I’m sure, Pet. You seem far too intriguing a creature to let go so thoughtlessly.” 

It almost awes you, the sheer ease with which such phrases spill from his lips, that he never seems to run out of lovely words to flatter and fluster those around him. Of course, as such a long-lived being, you imagine he’s had decades if not longer to practice his art and perfect it.

You can only imagine how many before you have fallen under the spell of his hypnotic way with language. 

But you’ve dealt in poetry quite awhile yourself, and you know better than most that the prettiest words are not always without an ulterior motive.

So you play along with his game, whatever it may be. He’s admitted he’s not the most exacting of strategists, so you feel fairly certain he’ll tip his hand sooner rather than later. 

“You flatter me, Astarion.” 

“Of course I do, Love. I aim to please.” 

He’s tossed phrases like that at you before, and as with the other times, you catch the briefest sneer flash across his face before it instantly returns to its usual smooth expression of self-satisfaction. 

“What’s your excuse?” you prod lightly, disguising your real interest as small talk as you place a few more twigs in the fire. You both watch the brief, tiny flares of new flame as they rise and fall before he answers. 

His laugh is too free, just the smallest hint too bright. “I’m an elf, Darling. A few hours of trance and I’ll be fit to outlast any of these fools in a fight. Sleep is a luxury if I so desire, but not a necessity, as I’m sure you recall.” 

You try to send him an annoyed look at his superior tone, but it’s nearly impossible to stay that way when met with his dancing crimson eyes and that damn pretty grin that sweeps his perfect lips into such tantalizing curves. 

“Saucy bastard.” 

“Thank you, I try.” 

The two of you sit there in silence for a little while, and as the stars change position above you, you start to pick up that perhaps there really is more to Astarion’s immediate reasons for being here than he told you. There’s a tightly wound tension lurking underneath the surface of his body, betrayed by minuscule restless movements and shifts. You hear it when he opens his mouth once or twice as if to speak, but he gives you nothing more than a noncommittal hum each time.

Yet his gaze has been searing into you with increasing intensity whenever yours is fixed forward on the fire, and finally you realize it may be up to you to prompt this interaction he so obviously wants, or you may be stuck here in this limbo indefinitely. 

“Do you want something, Astarion?” 

His breath hisses in surprise; as quickly as the lapse in his façade happens it fades, smoothing over itself so when your attention reaches him he’s all unruffled charm again.

“Perceptive little thing, aren’t we.” 

“I aim to please,” you respond, mimicking his delivery of earlier.

Something in the air between you is taut and brittle, and you have the sense that how the next few minutes go is entirely dependent on how you react to him.

As far as you can tell, it’s been your ability to give back as good as you get in terms of wit that has kept you in his good graces so far. 

“This would have been so much simpler if you weren’t plagued with sleeplessness,” he laments. “But no matter. I suppose the worst you can do is refuse me, after all.” 

He leans in close, and now it’s your turn to lose your breath, faced as you are with those suddenly burning eyes, so intense that you find your own gaze flickering instead between the immaculate silver-white curl falling over his forehead and the way his tongue slides contemplatively across his teeth. 

“This may be a…strange request, for lack of a better word,” he admits, pinning you in place with that furnace-like focus. “But I’m utterly ravenous tonight, and I need something you could provide me with quite easily. If you’re feeling at all generous and not inclined to ‘stabbing-and-running’, that is.” 

In the muted glow from the embers’ light, you see at last what you’ve suspected in the back of your mind was there all along, barely hidden in the shadows of his mouth. 

His canine teeth are long, elegantly curving to razor points that glint sharply as his upper lip pulls ever so slightly back. 

Vampire. 

“You need a drink, don’t you?” you whisper, strangely more wondering than frightened. “You’re a vampire.” 

The dangerous red eyes narrow with genuine interest. “And yet your heart isn’t trying to dig its way out of your chest at the very idea. Does it not terrify you, to be faced with such an unholy creature — all alone — in the middle of the night, my Dear?” 

It’s a precarious game now; though you doubt Astarion would outright pounce and drain you dry, you do know better than to think he’ll do what you expect him to, and any wrong move could be one you would sorely regret. You can clearly see the desperate hunger now, clawing behind his carefully set expression — the twitch of an ear, a sweep of his tongue, his chest heaving briefly beneath the filmy white shirt that drapes his figure so finely before it stills again. 

“Believe it or not, you’re not the first vampire I’ve encountered,” you tell him softly. “And you at least had the decency to ask. I’m inclined to not be too difficult, if you swear not to kill me.” 

Astarion moves closer again, causing you to move slightly back.

And you notice that, despite his predatory body language, there’s also a bone-deep weariness in those captivating eyes, that the lovely angles of his face are drawn and even paler than normal. 

“I…won’t kill you.”

The words land somewhere between a purr and a growl, and draw a shiver up your spine like the surprise of cold rain. “I feed almost exclusively from wild animals, you know. But the hunting has been scarce as of late, and much as it pains me to admit it, I’m not in top form at the moment.” He looks away for a moment, something like disgust wrinkling his nose and curling his lip.

“I only require enough to replenish my strength for the hunt.” 

You turn this proposal over in your head, weighing the potential dangers against the advantages.

If he, in fact, doesn’t kill you either during or directly after he feeds, having Astarion in your debt could actually greatly improve your chances of survival on this journey.

It feels worth the risk. 

“Okay.” You nod, consciously slowing your breath to keep from appearing panicked about your choice. “You can take enough to refresh yourself. Don’t push it.” 

The disarming ripple of shock passes across his features, and for just a split second, his eyes look wide and almost soft before he’s fully back in control again, a wicked smirk taking the place of any potential vulnerability that could have been glimpsed there.

“I will be absolutely angelic for you, my Love. You’ll barely feel a thing. May I?” 

He reaches for you, and after a breath of hesitation, you nod your consent. 

The way he lowers your body all the way to the ground is impossibly tender, the complete opposite of the only other time the two of you have been in this position, when he was threatening to kill you. Although his hold is firm, warning you not to try anything rash, his one hand cushions the back of your head as you allow yourself to be guided downwards, and the way that hand caresses its way down your back to settle the rest of your body in turn is a touch of heaven, relaxing your muscles against your better judgment. His other hand cradles your neck, long, cool fingers stroking the sensitive skin between your ear and shoulder until the delicious sensation causes you to open the area up to him with a slight sigh.

Astarion bends over you, and there’s a possessiveness to his posture, a falcon mantling its prey. 

“You look so lovely from this angle,” he chuckles, and the unexpected compliment is enough to drop your guard for an instant, so he lunges forward, teeth bared. 

You gasp at the frozen stab of his fangs embedding themselves deep in your flesh, but before you can make another sound, the pain subsides as quickly as it began. Instead, all you become aware of is the hungry push-pull sensation of his mouth flush against your skin, and the almost erotic sounds of enjoyment that roll from somewhere deep in his chest as your hot blood bathes his tongue and runs down his throat.

And there’s a dangerous sort of pleasure that rises in answer in your own treasonous chest, at the knowledge that he’s taking his very sustenance from your body like this. 

If he doesn’t forget himself and drain you completely dry, maybe you would even offer this again when he’s starving the next time. 

Your vision suddenly blurs as your head spins, and shaken back into the present moment, you dig your nails sharply into Astarion’s bicep, hoping he’ll get the message and stop. 

The eyes that swing to refocus on yours are nearly mad with ecstasy, and as his brow furrows and his jaws tighten around the side of your throat, you start to genuinely fear that maybe he’s too far gone, and this was your final mistake. 

But after a moment that feels like it stretches on for centuries, he reluctantly unlocks his teeth from the depths of you, and with a gentleness that makes your already pounding heart flutter more, he closes up the wounds with a couple smooth laps of his tongue. 

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he singsongs as he rocks back on his heels to stare down at you. He could almost pass for someone pleasantly tipsy on wine, half-lidded eyes and probably the warmest grin you’ve yet to see crossing his face.

Only the thick scarlet rivulets lazily running from the corners of his smug mouth tell the truth. 

You’re still breathing hard, though you blink up at him as calmly as possible. “You'd better tell me I taste good, for the headache I’m probably going to have tomorrow.” 

“Oh, Love, you sell yourself short,” he remarks airily. “You taste much better than simply good. In fact, you’re rather divine, and I hope you realize that’s an immense compliment coming from me.”

Almost absentmindedly, he swipes the back of a hand across his lower lip, slowly licks the excess blood from his hand with a languid tongue, still maintaining eye contact with you as he does so. 

“Mm. Good. Otherwise I might not let you do this again.”

Your eyes feel so heavy now; much as you were planning on staying awake longer, you’re not sure you’ll be able to anymore.

You let your eyelids start to flutter shut. 

“Again — ? Well well, you are a wonder, aren’t you.” Astarion’s voice lowers to a silky whisper as he hesitates a moment, then lightly lifts your head to rest it more comfortably upon a folded blanket he moves beneath you for a pillow.

“And look at it this way, Pet — now I’ve gone and solved your insomnia problem for you! You can thank me in the morning, don’t worry, I’ll wait.” 

Your breathing has begun to slow and deepen, but even as your sight and hearing spiral away, you feel it with stunning clarity as his fingertips drift down your cheek, and his lips, still warm from the temporary life your blood has granted him, brush over the place where he bit you with all the shy adoration and reverence of a lover. 

You wonder if anything in that gesture is at all genuine. 

And that thought makes you wonder why the idea of it all being just an act is a cold one. 

He straightens up; you sense rather than hear him move away from you, a new prowling intensity to his stride as he no doubt heads back into the darkness to hunt.

His retreating words float back to you on the night breeze, and the promise of his future favor releases the last string tethering you to the world of the waking. 

“I promise I’ll not take this for granted, my Love.” 

[heartspin2023]

Le sigh. I feel I must write this ff living in my head despite being taxed for writing time. I reason I have 2 original stories upcoming that are science fiction. Writing this space fam will be my practice. ;p

‘Pics:

Din seeing Luke with his shit eating trouble maker grin, with his son mirroring it perfectly. He had seen Luke and his sister do similar in the past, he had once been warned by Han but it had made no difference it disarmed him just the same.

I am obsessed with the idea that Luke is obsessed with Dins helmet head. And Din may intentionally not fix it after being out of his suit, just to see Lukes amusement.

Din walked quietly to the dining room, it is another early morning for the young Jedi and none of the others are awake. He spies once again no plate for a meal, just a forgotten cup sitting cold next to Lukes elbow. He had told himself today he would push, today he would ask what the matter was. He had told himself it was for the better for all.

What he hadn't expected was his son, awake early himself, reaching up to Luke, eyes large and sorrowful at a trouble that he must be informed to, due to that force link that Luke always speaks of.

He watches closely, as Luke casts those sleep deprived eyes to Grogu, the line between his brow disappearing as he rests his cheek in his hand, a soft smile lightening his gaze.

Din wasn't certain what was troubling the young man, but he knew that he was going to be okay.

AAAND LAST

this one is pretty story specific haha.

Long had it been that the lost twin to the throne, the Prince Skywalker, had been lost to the kingdom. Upon his reuniting with not only his twin sister, but his position in the court of Alderaan, Queen Breha insists there must be celebrations had- once the news is made public.

And the news reached far across the galaxy. To one particular mandalore, who recalled a sharp witted pilot years before. Jarred by seeing his image on the screen inviting him to the celebrations for PRINCE SKYWALKERS introductory ball, something he never thought he would attend.

And, apparent the prince is with the same mindset, abandoning the crowds and eager guests, the gluttonous and wanting politicians, and the news reporters all swarming for some part of him.

Din and Grogu approach him outside the castle garden walls where they had spied his departure.

Okay now Heartspin needs to go work on original projects before writing this. haha

[lassieposting]

Fucking. Obsessed. With this.

Because like. I know a lot of people love the whole "Astarion has babies with their Tav and is a wonderful daddy" headcanon, and that's fair - y'all do you. But personally? I can't see it. That man would be an appalling father, imo. Astarion doesn't like kids. And that's okay! (Unlike kicking them for shits and giggles which, while often tempting and undeniably hilarious, is. Really mean.) Anyway. My point: not everyone, in fiction or real life, needs to like or have kids.

But what I fucking love about this interaction is that like. He cares. He very clearly cares, and he sucks ass at trying to hide it. He's concerned for her safety. And, since this is a man who very deliberately tries not to care about anything other than his own survival, lest it be used against him, that implies a pretty impressive level of effort on Yenna's part. He would indulge Tav's worry either way, but I don't think he'd be too bothered himself unless she'd gone out of her way to befriend him. And honestly, that makes sense - she's a sweet, gregarious kid who isn't put off by being snarked at. Kids in general tend to love people with big personalities, which Astarion does. Kids tend to attach themselves to people who'd really rather they kept their distance, which Astarion does. And kids tend to admire and look up to people who seem impossibly classy and clever and worldly-wise, which Astarion would at her age.

This kid, behind the scenes, has been spending time with Astarion. Being nice to him. Maybe asking him questions or trying to talk to him about stuff. She's spent enough time with him that he's started to care.

And y'all know what dynamic I love? Deeply reluctant big brother Astarion.

From what we see of the seven vampire spawns and how they interact, we know the following:

Astarion is one of, if not the, oldest. He says he was one of Cazador's first spawn, but all the ones we see defer to him, so it's possible he's the oldest surviving spawn - I wouldn't put it past Cazador to permakill one that was no longer of use to him. That means he would've found himself in the unenviable position of having to help newly-turned siblings adjust to a traumatic and deeply abusive lifestyle. Considering he was in the same boat, he probably wasn't all that nice about it. But they would likely have relied on him to teach them survival tactics anyway - how to keep Cazador happy, how to say and do the right things to not rock the boat.

The spawns do have some degree of familial attachment to one another. It's a highkey toxic, trauma-based attachment, but it is there. Astarion tells Tav, "At least you've met my family now," and snaps at one of Cazador's servants, "I won't be ordered about in my own home." He calls Dalyria by a nickname, and she expresses concern that he came back when, "You got out, you were free." She clearly believes that he cares for her enough to stop hurting Petras when she begs him ("Brother, please!").

Astarion wants to protect. We see this most with Tav, but there are a couple of lines that suggest that he - like so many older siblings in abusive family situations - knows that his presence, his role as the primary target of Cazador's possessive, violent obsession, has shielded his siblings to some (paltry, piss-poor) extent over the years. Cazador likes to break his toys, and as long as there is still some fight in Astarion, he'll remain the warped and twisted "favourite" - the one Cazador likes to torture and torment the most. He knows that with him gone, they will become the new targets of their master's rages ("Now that I'm gone, well...I pity the other six.")

Anyway. What I'm getting at is that while I can't see Astarion ever serving any kind of fatherly role for Yenna - or for anyone, really - I feel like he'd step fairly easily into the reluctant older brother role with which he is so familiar. That's what he knows.

Like, he will absolutely be snarky and snide with her, because that's who he is. He's spent most of his life in an environment where the only people he got to spend time with, aside from his targets, were his siblings, and they served as rivals and threats more than friends and loved ones. Anyone Astarion isn't actively seducing tends to get his bitchy side. But at the same time, gods help anyone else who picks on her. Only he gets to do that.

He will whine and complain if he's asked to keep an eye on her. But he will do it, begrudgingly, and if she catches him in a particularly good mood he might even come up with a vaguely age-appropriate activity to keep her entertained ("I don't suppose anyone ever bothered to teach you to play whist.")

[juliet-without-romeo-stuff]

These are just my personal thoughts and imaginations on my fav fictional character.

After 10 years from the day they found eachother that is from being an little secret to lovers to husbands to parents,a unexpected incident happened in nikobran life that is BRANDON KING GOT KIDNAPPED thats when bran first met alex--Alexander a 4 year old boy who had an abusive parents and terrible life.. got kidnapped by the same person who kidnapped bran.

After a lot of fights and damages,Nikolai and landon found bran and found the kidnappers who are serpants,(Simon one of Niko's ex boytoy),and NOAH (new character who is Landon bestfriend from young age and had a obsession on bran since young age )

Niko and lan also found alex and take both of them to hospital but alex never spoke one word to them and brandon was in ICU WARD after a while they found alex parents who done many things that never a parent will ever do to thier child they are just worst than psychos.

Landon felt something in his heart that is like his twin brother wants to say something but he can't like he can feel something is off about alex parents and brandon told him before getting unconscious to take care of alex that's when he even cared to know the name of the little boy.

In the hospital hallway where all peoples are waiting for the doctors to tell them that bran is awake they already told them that bran is out of danger and they treated his injuries .Landon king is not okay they already told alex parents to take alex with them but he is feeling so nervous and anxious and an unknown feeling of doing something wrong which his brother will never forgive them for.He felt his breaths are constricted and had an panic attack for the first time in his entire life .

There is also one thing which is unaware to others are landon king and Nikolai sokolav became a friend's like they both understood thier first priority is Brandon king and over the years bran and lan became very close since Bran's insecurities and every traumas are healed which made him separate from his other half and Landon really like really felt thankful to niko for giving him his little bro back And landon forgived MAYA SOKOLAV which niko felt thankful to lan.so there are certain things happened which made landon realised that niko is an scary sunshine and can be around with.BUT their this little understanding and friendship is hidden from all except bran.They don't want others to know this.

(Yeah there will be an solid explanation on Maya sokolav story since i felt rina ruined their bond and just gave an one sided explanation so i thought about her pov too.but but but Ilya levitsky is NOT THE BOYFRIEND. Yes Its is true they both dated but breakup after Mia-Maya things and The one who will be maya's boyfr--husband is VAUGHAN MOROZOV really in my ideas he will be an gentle man like truely gentle man to maya and treat her very gently since MAYA is his childhood love and will be his forever love........)

So back to landon's panic attack, Everyone around him don't even know what is going on when niko came forward towards him and helped lan to calm down leaving others in pure shock.

After That lan stopped alex parents from taking alex back and waited until bran wakeup .

The fist thing after bran woke up he asked is alex ......first time in their life bran asked lan and niko to kill someone that too alex parents .first time they saw alex speaking to bran and that's when bran told alex ,AS I PROMISED YOU ,I WILL HELP YOU I WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU FOR THE REST THE OF LIFE AS MY SON ALEX!!I WILL GIVE YOU LOVE AND SHOW YOU WHAT IS TRUE FAMILY IS...❤️❤️

Flashback Alex:Bran...once we are free from this peoples you will be back to your family and give me back to my parents?? I am afraid bran ...please don't give me back..they will beat me and punish me by leaving burns on my skin if i speak anything ...That’s why i stopped speaking and they thought that i lost my voice .. your are the only man i spoke after so long bran..

Bran: i promise you I WILL HELP YOU I WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU FOR THE REST OF LIFE AS MY SON ALEX!!I WILL GIVE YOU LOVE AND SHOW YOU WHAT IS TRUE FAMILY IS...❤️❤️ flashback end.

After bran told those words to lan and niko they don't need an explanation because if bran says he needs someone killed then they must really deserve that.

After that Brandon king and Nikolai sokolav adopted Alex a.k.a ALEXANDER Brandon sokolav king as thier second babyboy .Alex may not speak with anyone in their family now other than Bran but time heals everything right..oneday alex will understand them and trust them to speak with them ...

After 1 year they welcomed their third kid STELLA HUNTER SOKOLAV KING, princess of the family, a babygirl through surrogacy.Niko was so adament on having a girl kid in thier family and it was also a wish of bran .