#so whatever happens I'm fed

[brsb4hls]

So I've been following the 'devil's minion in show' speculations since the start and here's my take on it.

At first I was pissed the show seemed to have cut it and I stand by that.

The show did cut it.

They changed the dynamic by aging Daniel up and building the show on a 'recent' interview, putting the one chronologically closer to book canon in the past as a failed attempt.

And I still think nothing 'romantic' or whatever you want to call it in regards to the Daniel/Armand dynamic was intended.

They did the bottle episode with a different take on it and that was it.

The flashbacks were revealed to not have the context people expected, so I'm convinced the show did not plan for or hint at DM having happened in the past.

And Armand's 'fond' looks might as well be amused-condescending.

This also ties in with Eric referring to Armand as Daniel's 'nemesis'.

It started off with that cat and mouse play between them, which also makes for a great dynamic btw.

And Daniel being revealed to have been turned at the end is a classic horror story move and a nice extra. Especially when season 2 could have been the last.

So there's that.

Now we have a third season and an, albeit smallish, pretty dedicated fanbase.

DM content is all over social media and Rolin and the cast get asked frequently about it.

We also know Assad would be very open to that storyline, he read the books and dives deep into every aspect of Armand's personality.

Eric seems to also get on board, judging from recent interviews.

So I do think Rolin did not expect the fans to be that dedicated to an arguably pretty small part of a big book series and just planned on the bottle ep and Daniel's turning (which is left ambiguous enough for anything), but he might now actually reconsider.

So I do think there could be a switch in Daniel's and Armand's dynamic in the future.

Nobody probs expected people to thirst over 71 Eric Bogosian tbh and so they most likely thought an aged up Daniel would be 'safe' from shipping, well surprise, he's still hot and people have taste.

Just to be clear, I a) do not really believe in creatives changing their stories due to fan response and b) I do not support actors getting pestered about certain dynamics.

But in this special case DM already is part of book canon, so nothing that would have to be changed or added and it wouldn't take away from the next big plotline.

It can be squeezed in as a treat without affecting anything major.

And the fan support I've seen was mostly positive and respecting boundaries (nobody has yet told Assad to his face to 'fuck that old man already', and please let's keep it this way).

So it's mostly just enthusiastic DM shippers promoting the show in their own way.

Plus the actors have built great chemistry and are quite ship positive.

To conclude: I do have high hopes for DM to be part of a background story in season 3 and I would also be fine with a reversed chase/cat and mouse/resentment and fascination dynamic.

But I still don't think it was planned beforehand.

[hydralune]

I was cheering over being free from Destiny's Call but am I really free if I still check it every day...

Anyway, I enjoy the flavour text for the classes. Clarence's socks are based on an actual pair of saba-patterned socks I own. 🐟

[galadriel-blue]

VENTING

Rant under the cut (people telling me to change things about my blog [like the way I tag things???] and just general Rings of Power hate towards me

Hey just so you know, it's not my job to cater my personal blog (that I made for fun) to your personal preferences. This is a Rings of Power & LOTR blog. I am going to post about both because it's my blog. If you only follow me for my Rings of Power stuff, great! If you only follow me for my LOTR stuff? Also great! follow me for both? Awesome! Spectacular even! but like, If you don't like one of the fandoms I post about, then block the tags or just ignore it instead of going onto MULTIPLE OF MY POSTS and messaging me, telling me what to change about MY BLOG.

This is all because I tagged something Rings of Power related with a LOTR tag and a few people got mad at me (comments and messages) saying that "The Rings of Power isn't LOTR??? Can you not tag it like that I don't want to see Rings of Power stuff. I follow for LOTR" like what???

They exist in the same universe whether you like it or not?? And lots of people tag TROP stuff with LOTR tags too. Plus, sometimes I am talking about both in the same post (like comparing and contrasting things that are the same or different from the show and movies) so I am going to use both tags for that. Besides, why are you telling a complete stranger who posts her stuff for fun to make her blog okay for YOU? I make my blog and posts for me so... Maybe just block me and move on if you don't like how I post things, or tag things.

Also, it's not my problem if you don't like Rings of Power?? Don't interact with it then?? Like, you can control that? My blog is pretty clearly a Rings of Power blog. I literally have Morfydd Clark's Galadriel as my pfp lol

If you don't like it don't interact with it. I could care less if somebody hates the show I genuinely enjoy because it doesn't affect my enjoyment if someone dislikes it. Just don't be a bully and don't tell me how to run my blog because it's upsetting when the only comments I get are "I don't like this show can you stop posting about it," and "Don't use those tags pls I don't like seeing Rings of Power on my feed."

Cater your experience to you and I'll cater my experience to me. If you are going to be entitled and tell me how to run my blog, I am just going to block you <3

If you read this to the end, you deserve a The Rings of Power Galadriel for your troubles.

[dragontamer05]

No lie I can't recall the last time I did like just one long continuous thread.

Like sure still doing small side stuff, asks ect but just idk but also letting muses grow and develop through one long continuous - and not always having to say resort to completely dropping if whatever currently is going on has run its course and instead just time skip with it but let it keep going.

And I say this as some one who is also 100% happy to time skip and jump around.

And hey you want to go back in time and explore a scenario that could have happened earlier in their relationship / knowing each other

or jump forward to something way later or even just explore a what if scenario that doesn't have to happen but could depending how things go/ how we feel about it ect

Hell yah love it all - trying to have some time line consistency is good obviously and as long as we can agree on even a loose idea of How they got to Y or where X fits and what not then sure.

Am fine with even the longest of threads eventually getting a wrap up if things simply happen to feel right in the moment and is what gets decided, doesn't have to be an infinite thread - certainly not about to force one to go on if its reached a point it kinda feels dead but idk call me easily attached but there's sometimes where I can still find / feels like their might be still potential to be found in a thread and all it needs is a bit of tweaking.

The chapter came to an end but the book isn't over kinda thing. Maybe all it needs is a small time skip / scene change but there's still things to be explored within said plot/scenario / whatever is going on with the characters - that would still also work/fit within said thread instead of separating.

Similarly but kind of reverse is I am equally as happy generally to return to threads that were long previously dropped/abandoned. Whether cause someone wasn't feeling it any more or simply we ran into a writing wall and at the time were lost on how to continue it so was better not to force it. But if something new comes along be it from plotting / just newer interactions or simply with having time away from it whatever the reason if a spark suddenly arises and hey suddenly what if we connected - old thread to new idea - or any other reason to want to answer/continue go for it.

idk mostly I this is was just a really long rambly way of saying how I miss long threads. Short quick snippets are fun and fine but 9/10 I promise i am very much interested and fine with carrying a thread for as long and far as it'll go.

[gxtzeizm]

.

[gabbingwaves]

Just finished Act IV. Had thought.

One of my favorite things about Scar is how sometimes he'll look at the MC and his whole face will just soften, mostly and primarily because the only thing this achieves is making him 1000% creepier.

[draconicace]

just had to do an interview with prerecorded questions and i don't think i've ever done a worse job in my life

[devotion-disorder]

be careful what you wish for...the village Killian's from is having a bit of a population crisis right now, and having a nice little human come by could be just what they need...

Oh noooo....I'm just a naive human lost in this big forest with no one waiting for me...would be a shame if some beautiful elves whisked me away and brainwashed me into thinking I'm their pet/breeding machine and only need their "love and devotion". That would be terrible /silly

- 🩵

wdym the beautiful elf men do not, in fact, have my best interests in mind and were planning something nefarious from the start </3 I was just gonna write down some quick thoughts but it kinda got out of hand LOL

Content warning for: implied drugging (hypnotics, aphrodisiacs), dubcon/ noncon touching (nothing explicit though), manipulation, slight obsessive/ yandere themes, general elven condescension?

Imagine that you’ve accidentally wandered too deep into the forest and lost your way, your shoes hardly holding up in the rough terrain, and the last remaining rays of the setting sun are snuffed out by the overgrown foliage…

To make things worse, you walk right into some sort of trap - a stumbling step is all it takes to activate the runic trip switch, and a suffocating cloud of purple gas is the last thing you remember before things fade to dark…

How clumsy of you! Good thing Priest Killian happened to be on his evening walks when he spotted your pitiful form twitching and writhing in the hunting trap he’d set up; carefully he scooped you up and went his way back to the village. Only the most observant would be able to discern that the Priests’ unmoving smile seemed a bit wider than usual.

It was a trap the elves set up for hunting animals, he’d explained. The poison was almost enough to be fatal, had he not been there in time to save you. It’ll also take a bit for all the toxins to be out of your system. No worries though, because Killian offers to take care of you in his quarters until you’re up on your feet again. 

You don’t even remember if you’d managed to give a response, what with lead-heavy limbs and relentless migraine pulsing in your head. Luckily, Killian treated you with utmost care. 3 meals a day (along with the antidote treatment) brought to your bed (well, his bed), and spoon-fed to you because you were too weak to even sit up. He massaged your stiff muscles and brushed your hair. He ran warm baths and washed you – and even then he never opened his eyes – so at least there was some comfort in that.

Under Killian’s care you gradually regain your strength, save for the occasional dizzy spell and fatigue. But he saved your life after all! Feeling indebted to him, you offer to stay longer in the village to help around. While Killian’s expression is ever-unreadable, you can’t help but sense a bit of…amusement from him upon your suggestion. Regardless, he agrees – so long as you agree not to wander too far outside the village, because it’s very dangerous out there, he said.

And of course, he maintained a watchful eye over you, shadowing your tottering form as you went around introducing yourself to the other villagers. How cute.

You worked whatever odd jobs the elves had for you. which isn’t much at all. Mostly just menial tasks, or perhaps relaying messages. Things that they could’ve easily done themselves with their magic, but it’s fun watching an over-enthusiastic little human do it instead, so eager to please. You would say they are…endeared, perhaps. Or maybe they’re just looking out for you, what with your unfinished recovery. Anyhow, the elves are charmed by the newfound presence in the village.

Killian gifts you a new set of clothes, made by the local tailor (you don’t remember visiting a tailor for measurements at any point though, strange). To help you feel more at home, he said. It's pretty, a delicate garment that flutters cool against your skin in the warm summer heat, with an unmistakably elven style of elegance. It is a little short but, well, elves are known for being tall so maybe they're not used to human proportions? The white silk is a bit sheer in places, and you tried to ignore how it clung to the contours of your body when you sweat…

You hadn’t expected elves to be so openly affectionate. Being a long-living race known for their high culture and intelligence, it made for the perception that they were maybe a bit prudish, engrossed in their endless pursuit of finer things to care about lowly desires. But you suppose the elves are as curious of you as you are of them. You got to know some of them quite well, and soon it was routine for them to envelop you in their embrace. They pet your hair and nuzzle into your neck (Killian said something about how common skinship is in elven culture), at times slipping their digits beneath your clothes…sometimes you don't really remember, because the medicine still made you a bit sluggish. But it's ok! Their affectionate nature is a surprise but one you welcome. You think. 

During all of which, your treatment continued. Just a little longer, Killian promised. The side-effects seem to show no sign of waning, if not worsening at times. Sometimes you struggle to recall what has happened and what has not. The elves didn’t seem to mind, gladly cradling your tired body when you are overcome with sudden bounds of weakness. You poor little thing, they cooed, one hand combing through your hair to distract you from their other that wandered along your body.

Some days the medicine leaves you feeling more flushed than usual, and a strange feeling you can’t quite place invades your senses; a deep, frustrating kind of yearning that throbbed in your core. You assume it's the side-effects of advanced elf sorcery/ enchantment in your antidote treatment. It’s a tad embarrassing, but you can’t really do anything about it when the elves (if not the Priest himself) check in on you so frequently. 

Your only reprieve comes when Killian slots himself snug against your smaller form at bedtime. Were you always this close? You’re not sure if you recall, trying desperately to suppress the suggestive thoughts flooding your brain. His cool hands trail over your body, and it feels way too good against your overheating skin, so good that you can’t even think about resisting as his lips come crashing on top of yours, when he slips his arm underneath your waist to push you closer, closer against him.

Stumbling out of Killian’s quarters in the dead of night, confused, and your vision blurred by hot tears, all you can think about is getting away from him, from this godforsaken place. The other elves stepped out of their houses from the commotion. It was as if something in the air shifted. Their friendly, curious pretenses have dropped completely, leaving a ravenous hunger and unyielding need in their place. The way they leer at your body, the disheveled elven outfit failing to provide much cover, makes your hair stand on their ends. The elves close in on you, their concerned voices laced with something unmistakably sinister. You’re trapped.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your stupor.

“Now, now, I’m sure we’re all very excited about our little one here, but everyone will have their turn sooner or later.” Killian explains. He leans close to your ear, whispering in a volume only audible to you. “Look at you getting everyone so riled up already. Aren’t you such a needy little pet?” You’re paralyzed in fear, but his husky voice in your ears is still setting your nerves alight. 

“I’ll give you two choices. Either you let me 'take care of you' back at home,” his arms snaked around your body again, lithe fingers fanning across your thighs. “Or we’ll give everyone a show, and maybe let them get...a preemptive taste, as well. What’ll it be?”

[clovermoters]

Slim Pickin’s

☕️ ln4 x bestfriend!reader

☕️ where your childhood wish becomes a reality

☕️ warnings - none !! just some fluff and kisses

☕️ word count 1.5k

☕️ a/n : so i heard sabrina carpenters song that’s gonna be on short n’ sweet and then this was born two days later !! enjoy <33

“Maybe I'm gay.”

your best friend, lando, looks at you, confused. “what?” he asks through a chuckle.

you were fed up. The number of douchebag men that you have in your phone and not one of them has ever made it to a second date. That fact makes you want to rip your eyeballs out.

“maybe god just forgot my gay awakening and that’s why i can’t find a boyfriend! maybe i just don’t like men.” you throw your head back on the couch in lando’s living room in monaco.

“i doubt that he just forgot,” lando giggles

you knew this wasn't true. you knew you liked men and only men. because you definitely liked the man sitting at your feet, and you have since you were both 15. you’ve just never ever told him.

And you planned to keep it that way.

you groaned. “No, Lando, you don’t get it! it’s slim pickings around here. half the men in my phone don’t even know the difference between there, their and they’re!” quiet giggles from the man sitting across the couch from you filled the room.

Lando knew you were only joking, yet he can’t help but feel bad at your lack of dating life when he has models flocking toward him at all hours of the day. granted, the girl he wants isn’t even a model. In fact, she’s sitting right in front of him, sprawled out on his couch, complaining about boys. but she didn’t know that.

And he planned on keeping it that way.

—

Throughout your week-long stay in Monaco, you decided to set yourself on a mission to meet a guy and go on a date. On the fourth day, you were successful!

During a coffee run while lando streamed, you met a guy who asked you out to dinner the following night. You were so excited since given your history, the chance of a guy asking you out was close to zero. When he asked you even scanned your surroundings to make sure he was talking to you specifically.

you were getting ready in the guest room of lando’s apartment, since you were staying there during your visit.

while applying your lip liner and gloss, you heard a knock on the door. “Hey, what are you thinking we do for din- woah.”

the curly haired brunette stared at you in awe. you were always beautiful in his eyes, yet right now he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world. it then clicks in lando’s head that you’re not dressed for him. “Why are you all dressed up?!” he teases, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“oh i have a date!” you hum with a smile.

he looks at you confused, like he doesn’t believe you fully. leaning against the doorway “what happened to slim pickings?” he pokes, crossing his arms atop his chest.

“can’t a girl meet a guy and go on a date? gosh.” you scoff, slightly annoyed that he’s teasing you over this. you’d hoped he would be happy you’re crawling your way out of this slump of being single. it was one of the things you loved about him — how he always treated you with nothing but kindness and support.

“Fine, fine, whatever. have fun, i guess” he turns around and ducks into his office, closing the door harsher than you expected. Just as you make a mental reminder to have a talk with him about it, your phone chimes — your date is waiting in the lobby.

lando watches you from the cracked doorway of his office, as you do a final check of your makeup in the mirror of the mud room. he thought you looked beautiful and was silently raging at the fact he isn’t the man you’ve dressed up for tonight. he’s liked you since you both were young kids running through the suburban bristol streets while your parents sat on the patio of his childhood home socializing over cocktails.

You were always there to support him through his racing career and you were the first person he called after McLaren chose to extend his contract. While he doubted himself and everyone told him to leave, you told him to follow his heart and do what felt right to him. Now, he’s a race winner with the team he calls home. To him, it’s always been you. You have always been the girl he pictured his life with.

But his gut always told him you’d never return these feelings back to him.

—

your date went horrible. All the guy did was talk about himself. and once he found out you were friends with some celebrities, the date had ended there for you. although you got some free drinks and a meal out of it. it only made you fall further into this loneliness.

the elevator dings, signaling you’ve arrived at the floor of lando’s apartment. you stumble to lando’s door. the alcohol takes effect and makes you trip into the door, startling Lando who’s standing just on the other side, waiting for you. He throws the door open, finding you standing there with slightly messed up hair and a frown on your face.

“c’mere,” he says quietly, taking you to the couch. sat on the coffee table in front of you, he gently took your foot into his lap. you feel his soft touch as he gently removes your heels from your feet. sending shivers down your spine.

“It was horrible. all he did was talk about himself,” you say frustrated. “I also accidentally let it slip that I knew you, oh, and don’t even get me started on his horrible taste in just about everything.”

He helps you up, taking you to the bathroom and sitting you down on the counter. He rummages through your toiletries bag, before taking out your makeup remover. As he starts removing your makeup, you study every inch of his face, counting every freckle and watching the way his jaw muscles clench as he focuses.

god he was beautiful.

you feel a lump in your throat as tears begin to fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Lando asks, halting his movements.

“it’s just- i'm pretty sure every good man in this world is either taken or dead and its not fair.” you say letting a stray tear fall. in your head you knew you were being dramatic, but the three glasses of wine you had to get through that date have taken full control of your emotions.

Lando chuckles lightly, folding with the used makeup wipe in his hands, he looks to you “well, i’m neither of those things.” he says softly, almost as if he’s upset.

fuck. shit.

“no, no, wait, lando- i didn’t mean it like that, you're a great guy. an amazing guy actually.” you say quickly. he smiles at you as you continue to ramble “i mean, shit, i’d date you in a heartbeat-“

“what?”

you slap your hand over your mouth. holy fuck, did you really just say that? and Lando not saying anything just solidifies that he doesn’t return your feelings. Lando is staring at you like you’ve got three heads coming out of both of your ears.

you start to panic “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that, forget i said any-“ you’re cut off with the feeling of lando’s lips crashing into yours. his hands gently cup your face as he kisses you. you instantly return the kiss. The world slowly falls away leaving just the two of you. your hands moving to find home in his curl, slightly pulling on them. Lando releases a quiet groan. His hands work their way down your body to rest on your hips, gently pulling you closer to him.

Lando pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “I have literally loved you since we were 16.”

you smile at him, “i love you, too.”

The two of you find yourself in Lando's bed watching your favorite movie, wrapped up in eachother. Lando turns his head to look down at you resting on his chest. Admiring your sleepy state as you attempt to stay focused on the movie he gave up on watching. How can he focus on anything else when you were sitting next to him?

the girl he's wanted since the two of you sat on his porch on a late summer night, eating the ice cream his mother tried to hide. giggles filling the air while you pointed out constellations to lando, chatting about where you wanted to be in 5 years.

“Well I hope to be in formula 1” Lando admitted. “You'll be there, I'm sure of it.” you added giving lando a smile he swore was brighter than the stars sat above.

He gasps slightly “don't move”

you freeze as he reaches a hand to your cheek, softly swiping a fallen eyelash holding it in front you.

“Make a wish” he breathed.

You shut your eyes tight, emphasizing the wish you were making before taking a big breath and sending the eyelash into the air. Followed by the sound of giggles coming from the brunette, he asks what you wished for. “If i tell you it won't come true!” you gasp faking offense.

who knew that after 8 years, your wish would finally came true.

🤍☕️.

AYAYAYAYAY ALL DONE !!

big thank u too my lovely friend who edited this and helped me <33

[luvyeni]

THEY PUNISH YOU 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !

genre yandere 𖹭 warning — parings enhypen x fem reader | back to library .

request. hear me out.. enhypen!yandere punishments could you make them lowkey crazy.

「 authors note 𖹭 」 this is probably the darkest thing i've written , if this isn't something that makes you uncomfortable please don't read.

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

heeseung will punish you by fucking with you mentally , you try to leave? go ahead, he'll let you leave , but not without consequences. see on the outside to everyone else heeseung is very influential , he gets around, and I mean to everyone , your friends , family hell even your teachers or employers , he completely isolates you from everyone , so with no friends, family or work , no where to go— you come back to him basically on your knees begging for him to take you back , which he does with a smirk on his face.

"everyone hates you now , so you come back to me, that's okay baby I'm all you have , remember that next time you leave."

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

jay doesn't have time for your bullshit; he'll tie you up and leave you in your room and go about his day , you're there to make him look perfect and if you aren't perfect, then he really doesn't have any use for you. he won't be bothered with you at all , he'd make sure the maid fed you and gave you water , but that's it , he wanted nothing to do with you until he felt like it was necessary , when he needed you to look perfect. he'd come back with a pretty dress in his arms , throwing it on the bed , telling you to get dressed.

"you're to clean up this act for tonight , if you don't embarrass me then I'll consider letting you out of your room."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake would never hit you; no he would never hurt you , he'd hurt himself and force you to listen because he knew that would mess you up more than anything he could ever do to you. "jake open the door!" you slammed on the bathroom door , you tried to leave and jake caught you , grabbing a knife from the kitchen , running into the bathroom before you could even do anything. "get away , this is your fault." he screamed back. "you have to learn once you go i go , you hate me anyway just leave let me do it." you begged the boy to get out. "please come out , please." you tugged at your head. "please im sorry i won't leave." as soon as he heard that he opened the door , blood dripping down his arms. "jake." you held his arms in tears. "you won't leave right?"

"if you leave i'll do it again and it will all be your fault."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon scares you, so normally all he has to do is give you a look and you're apologizing to him , begging him to forgive you. but let's say it's in the early stages , before he broke you in , you try and leave and the look on his face send shivers down your spine , before you could apologize , his hand was already going across your face , dragging you by your hair to your room , your screaming doesn't phase him as he tosses you around on the bed locking you up.

"you'll fucking learn , unless you want to end up like this again."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

sunoo isn't another one who wouldn't hit you . the thing about sunoo is he is able to easily manipulate you, your brain is already screwed up into thinking what he's doing to you is okay , like you're his girlfriend and he loves you— so that's what he uses as punishment , he gets you by withholding it from you; his love. he ignores you, pretends like you're not even there , it hurts him but it drives you mad , until you're sobbing for him. "pl-please sunoo." you sobbed as he walked past him , completely ignoring you. "whatever i did i'm sorry please forgive me." he smiles , leaning down to where you were on your knees. "does that hurt baby?" he asked.

"good now you know how it feels when you hurt me."

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

whatever you did; he'll let it go, he'd pretend like it never happened, until he doesn't. the thing about jungwon is he loves psychological torture much like heeseung, so he'll continue on like normal , like hasn't already planned for this , boarding up the windows , soundproofing the walls so no noise came in and no noise came out , and when he feels like the time is right , he'll snatch you from whatever you're doing and throw you into the dark soundless room with nothing but padding for a bed. you'll beg and plead with him to explain what did — but he just doesn't , he'll leave you like that until he sees fit. the only time you see him or the light is when he slides food through the little door he made, and when you beg him he just laughs and mutters one thing before shutting it.

"you don't remember baby , that's too bad I was gonna let you out had you acknowledged what you did."

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

ni-ki is all of them combined; but unlike sunghoon or jay , ni-ki enjoys inflicting pain on you; twisting your arm , making you scream in pain , that makes him smile a bit , so he's looking for anything you do that he hates so that he can punish you. you talk back? that's a tug on your hair. you don't reciprocate his love? that's a twist of your wrist. god forbid you try to leave , the last time that happened you were left with a broken arm and a smiling ni-ki every time you whimpered in pain , he'd just laugh at you telling you to do something else , maybe lift something, he'll know you'll drop it , it gives him another reason to hit you.

"you just don't listen do you? come here."

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: Onyankopon x black reader

warnings: Jean slander, smut 18+

Need you

“And then the bitch scoffed and rolled her eyes like I didn't just apologize. I need to find a new place asap cause I swear next time she try me Imma fuck her up- “

“What I tell you bout cussing?” Ony’s deep voice filled the room, dark eyes piercing into yours as a warning.

“Anywaysss” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the side eye he was giving. “You’ve been awfully quiet since I came over. What’s going on?” You put your freshly manicured feet in his face.

“Nothing you’ve just been yapping the whole time.” He smirked.

“Rude” You gasped, nudging him with your toes.

“Nah I'm just chillin’. You know I like listening to you talk.” He shrugged, placing your legs into his lap. Lighting the blunt he just rolled, a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he took a hit.

“Whatever” You smiled as he passed it to you.

You and Ony often had moments like these, a smoke sesh usually spent with you talking about your week as he massaged your feet. Your relationship with Ony was…complicated. Ever since Sasha introduced you two, y'all were inseparable, constantly getting mistaken for a couple, and who could blame them?

Most thought this because Ony always had to be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder, or a tight grip on your waist. However, for some, it was how you two would always disappear during the function. Claiming you were only talking, but the slight sheen on Ony’s lips and your slightly ruffled clothing told otherwise.

You weren’t quite friends with benefits. At least that's what you told yourselves. The whole ordeal just kinda happened. You were stressed over your midterms and Ony of course offered to help you study. Though after hours of reading flashcards and practice tests, you were still stressed and on the verge of tears when Ony offered another way to help you. That night you ended up with your legs in the air as Ony sucked the soul out of your pussy. Ever since then any inconvenience one had, the other would do their best to help relieve the stress. Your roommate upset you? Ony fed you long deep strokes, pampering you with soft kisses while he whispered in your ear. Ony was pissed that his supplier flaked on him? Ony would have the tightest grip on your hips as he drilled into you from behind, claiming the waves of your ass hypnotized him into forgetting what he was upset about. Some days neither of you needed an excuse. Some days you just craved each other.

Despite your unique relationship, you remained friends allowing the other to do what they pleased, though neither you nor Ony slept with or saw other people. Your dynamic was good and worked for both of you. That was until you started seeing Jean.

“You n that nigga Jean still fuckin around?” He broke the silence, waiting for your answer as your eyes met his.

“Ony” You groaned, the tight grip he had on your ankles preventing you from moving.

“What? I can’t ask you questions now?” He kissed his teeth, putting out the blunt.

“No, because any time you ask about Jean we end up getting into an argument and I’m really enjoying my time with you right now. So no, you cannot ask.”

“Whatever. I’m just tryna figure out when you gon stop playing in my face nd be with me instead of his bitchass.”

“Onyankopon '' You shrieked. You never understood why Ony hated Jean till a few weeks ago when Ony drunkenly confessed his feelings. At first, you thought he was joking but the look on his face told you otherwise. For a minute, you were happy. Ony was everything you had wanted in a boyfriend and you two had practically been in a relationship just without the labels. It wasn't till Jean texted you that you got upset. Why confess his feelings when you're finally in a relationship? Deciding it'd be best to forget about it, you put Ony to bed, hoping he'd also forget about his confession. Clearly, you were wrong.

“What? I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying as fuck, and I'm pretty sure he has 4 brain cells. Maximum.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Jean. “Why won't you give me a chance when I'm the one for you?”

“We've talked about this Ony.” You sighed. Conversations like these were becoming frequent and they were so tiring.

“No mama you've talked nd I've listened.” You thought about it, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Silently praying this wouldn't end up in an argument you gave him a chance.

“Okay. I'm listening.” You whispered.

“C’mere,” He released your ankles.

“Ony I’m not gonna-”

“[☆]” The dominance in his tone had you clenching around nothing.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. The moment you sat on his lap you just knew how it was going to end.

“Why you with him instead of me? And don't feed me no bullshit” His large hands were rubbing up and down your thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy that desperately ached for him.

You tried and you tried but there wasn't any good reason as to why you were Jean. Sure he was cute but he had no idea how to make you feel special and overall just couldn't please you. In multiple ways. The main reason though was that he wasn’t Ony. He just asked first.

“I don't know, Ony” You finally sighed, looking everywhere but him.

Any discipline you had when it came to Ony vanished when his hand wrapped around your throat, the slight pressure on your carotid causing your brain to go fuzzy and your panties to get damp “Look at me”

“Be real. Please” Ony released his hold on your neck to grip your thighs.

“You had the longest opportunity to ask me to be with you but you never took the chance, yet when I'm finally in a relationship you suddenly wanna give up everything and take a chance to be with me and I feel like that’s not fair to me Ony.”

He rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. “You're right.”

"I did have that opportunity and always hesitated. I always assumed it would be just you and me, that you wouldn't pursue other relationships because of our bond. Since the day we met, I've wanted you. I know this is unfair and I'm so sorry princess, but I can't ignore my feelings any longer. Jean can't possibly be the man you want, the man you deserve. But I can. I promise to take the chance if you just give me another opportunity, and I'll do everything in my power to make you proud. You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the whole universe and I'm determined to be the person you need. I love you [☆].”

“Ony” you huffed, feeling as if all air was being vacuumed out of your lungs at his confession.

“Please. Lemme show you how much I love you.” He whispered, closing the distance that separated you. “Please” He captured your lips, his usual sweet taste with a hint of spiciness from the weed clouding your thoughts. Oh, how you missed this. Missed him. The kiss was intimate and familiar, the passion growing with each second. Ony’s hands roamed your body, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs before traveling to your ass, taking pleasure in the soft moan you let out, and using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. On instinct, your hips rocked down onto him.

“Fuck, baby. I missed you” He groaned, flipping you onto your back.

“Ony we can’t” You huffed, despite the wetness growing in between your thighs. God he looked so good. His muscles bulged as he took his shirt off, your eyes trailed down his torso, mouth watering at the prominent v-line peeking from his low sitting sweats.

“Do you want this? Yes, or no?” His tongue traced lazy patterns on your skin as he littered your neck with kisses.

“Ony I-”

“Yes or no [☆]?” He nipped on your earlobe, hand dipping below the waistband of your leggings.

“Fuck, Ony” his hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your thong, fingers slipping through your folds. Gathering your arousal before circling your clit in tight circles. “Yes, please”

“Then shut up and lemme show you how much I love you” He murmured as he undressed you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he lapped at your folds like a starved man, his tongue repeatedly flicking your clit. “Missed you so fucking much. Don't ever give my pussy away again. You hear me?” He muttered, sliding two digits past your entrance. The action was easy with how wet you were.

“Ony” Your thighs threatened to close around his head.

“Answer me or I'm stopping” He slowed his movements, leaving you needy.

“It's yours. I'm yours pa, I promise” Your legs shook as he continued to give you slow strokes, the addition of another finger having you seeing stars. “O-Ony wait” You panted, attempting to push his head away but he refused to let up on your pussy, never wanting to stop till he and his couch were soaked in your essence as he lapped at your clit.

“Ony I’m so-fuck I'm so close” Your words encouraged him to speed up as he repeatedly hit the spongy spot of your walls. “Ony” Your walls clenched around his fingers, leaving little room for his fingers to continue as you reached your peak.

Despite your thighs tightening around his head he continued his assault on your pussy. It wasn't until he was finally satisfied with slurping up your arousal, that he pulled away pressing gentle kisses on your throbbing clit as he pulled his soaked fingers out of your walls.

“Missed you so much” He mumbled, giving you the nastiest kiss ever, your arousal all over his lower face.

“I missed you too”

“Yeah?” He grabbed your hips, positioning you on all fours.

“Ony” You whined, pout forming on your lips as you looked back. His dick standing tall now that it was no longer confined. God, please let me have feeling in my legs tomorrow.

“I know you ain't think I was done. You played in my face and let another nigga hit and think I'm not finna put you back in your place? Nah, both you and this pussy need a reminder of who you belong to” He slid his dick through your folds, your cream acting as lube.

“Matter a fact” He lined up at your entrance just as your phone started ringing ‘Jean baby’ flashing on the bright screen.

“Lemme show this nigga too.”

first time ever writing smut nd even though it was short it took me foreverrr but i think it turned out okay. also so sorry for all my Jean girlies out there lol. anyways i hope you enjoyed nd any feedback is greatly appreciated. mwah

[tokiiwonz]

best friend anton thoughts

tw: jealous anton, car sex, unprotected sex (don't), exhibitionism, allusions to manipulation, infidelity xD, eunseok was punched (i'm so sorry)

thinking about best friend!anton walking in on you touching yourself while moaning his name ♡ like damn, you just can't help yourself; you grew up together, laughed with each other, even cried with each other—you're not going to just let any other person have their way with your man, not by any chance and fortunately for you, anton thinks the same

best friend!anton who knows you have feelings for him and decided to get a girlfriend for himself just to mess with your head. he swears it's nothing romantic, and that he just wants to see you get jealous over someone else.

best friend!anton who gets mad jealous after finding out that you're in a relationship with someone in his friend group. he's known for being usually a chill laid-back type of guy but the moment the news broke out, he didn't hesitate to punch eunseok for taking what's supposed to be his.

best friend!anton who recklessly drags you to his car before roughly kissing you in the backseat. he never thought that his silly little plan would backfire at him, and to him, it's all your fault. you need to be put to your place for getting back at him.

he never hid his liking for your strawberry-flavored chapstick. one could argue that he has used more of your chapstick than you did, and he never imagined how good it would taste when he's tasting it on your lips.

best friend!anton who is a shameless manwhore. given everything that had happened, he takes his phone out before recording you both making out in his car. a documentation, at least according to him. he shows off how he makes your pretty lips bleed with the way he bites it; all swollen and needy for whatever he's about to give you, taking lots of pictures and clips of all the hickeys and bite marks he left before sending it to their group chat.

best friend!anton who has you bouncing on his lap, tearing up as you struggle to take his fat cock. god, he loves the way you cry for some dick. no ones supposed to make you cry like this but him, and as he was thinking that, he couldn't help himself but to clench his jaw and drag his cock deeper into your warmth.

you felt so full, on a high if you will, having his cock bulging your stomach with every thrust. it doesn't help you much that you could feel him drag every inch of his cock deeper and deeper. neither did having you wrapped so tightly around him helped anton—he feels so lightheaded with how tight and small you feel against him—he’s got you all stuffed up, soaked and quivering, riding him as he hits the softest spot inside you.

anton has always taken pride in his work, and your vulnerability under his control right now has only fed his already-big ego.

he's shameless on where he puts his kiss marks on; on your cheeks, neck, shoulders, anywhere he finds enticing, really. “i didn't say stop, did i? i said don't you fucking dare stop riding this fat cock. you're going to show & tell eunseok who fucks you this good.”

and before you could even give a proper response, a whimper escaped your lips as you felt anton’s harsh thrusts up into you repeatedly. he hit your prostate in many ways he could—your toes curled up as anton let everyone hear your moans.

“thaaat’s it, doll,” he groaned as he throws his head back in pleasure. “riding so good for me. go make a show, show how my pretty boy rides tonnie's cock.”

best friend!anton who likes to humiliate and make you feel small ♡. rumors has it that it's hard to deal with a mad anton due to how annoying he could be, but you think otherwise. you're very much willing to do everything to get his hands all over your body, even if it means to anger this mad man (which pretty much explains how poor eunseok was dragged into this mess)

"who told you to act like some kind of street whore, hm? i'm giving you just enough attention, aren't i? am i not enough for you to get a boyfriend? fuckass slut.”

best friend!anton who's temperamental. one moment he's splitting your hole open, the next he's making you his pillow prince (it counts, even if you're at the back of his car). he's just so obsessed with messing with your head even when he's fucking you—he wants you to be dependent on him, because you're his and his only ♡ kiss your forehead while his hands were wrapped around your neck? you got it. making you cry with his thick cock while cuddling you? you got it.

anton may seem like some kind of playboy, even a fuckboy, to other people, but he has never slept with anyone but you. his cum stained fleshlights and self clips were his testaments. he just loves you so much, ok? ♡

"got what you needed, doll face? a good dick down from me? yeah, that's it... anyway, wanna come over later?” he pecked your lips as he cummed inside you and smiled. “keep my cum inside you, alright? i’ll eat you out later when we get home.” you giggled as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before preparing to drive.

[deepdarkdelights]

Predator (Jungkook x Reader) Part II - Prey

Pairing: Vampire Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Series: Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Vampire Jungkook, Obsession, Manipulation, Forced Relationships, Blood (So much of it), Fear (Copious amounts), Panic/Anxiety Attacks, Mind Games, Tormenting the MCs, Discussions about dead bodies, Jungkook and his unblinking stare, Self Injury (Non Mental Health Related), Forced Feeding, Isolation

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

A/N: I am alive! This was entirely inspired by an ask that was sent to me so the entire reason this exists is because of the wonderful anons who have asked be about what has happened since the end of Predator and who have asked to see what a more lucid Jungkook would look like. I haven't had this much fun writing in such a long time. I'm sorry it's so short, I hope you can forgive me 💜

READ PART I - PREDATOR

_______

It was dark and quiet, the only sound being the steady, slow, drip of water hitting the dusty floorboards and the harsh chatter of your teeth as they clashed together. 

You were freezing, your body trembling despite your best attempts to collect yourself. It was no use, no matter what you did you were never able to warm up anymore. You knew it wasn’t all that cold outside, but that didn’t really matter. Despite the chills that wracked your body there was a fine sheen of sweat that coated your skin.

You were unsure as to how much time had really passed since you had found yourself here. All of the days had begun to blend together like some horrible fever dream you simply couldn’t wake up from. The only constant in your life has become him. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to kill you. 

What was truly likely, was that this was a side effect of his treatment of you. It was very likely that he just didn’t know how to take care of a human. And despite your incessant pleading, he had told you that he would not kill you. So really, it was his own ineptitude that had you knocking on death’s door.

Your skin felt grimey, not entirely from lack of hygiene, but from the film of blood that coated your skin. It was all over you but it mostly dominated your cheeks, lips, throat, chest, and fingers. He was not violent when he claimed his feeds, but he was not necessarily gentle either. You hadn’t looked in a mirror for quite some time, but you were certain no amount of vampire blood would be able to seal your wounds with how often they were readily reopened.

This wasn’t a life, it was a slow and painful trek to the afterlife.

Your trembling increased as the front porch creaked, he was already back. Your head lolled backwards and hit the wall behind you in defeat. You couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t give him another part of yourself - this time you were certain that it would kill you. 

Every time he fed from you, there was a horrible, delightful, exhilarating rush that followed. Whatever it was that he was doing to you, it was forcing you to enjoy the very thing that was killing you. It was perverse. It was disgusting. It was addicting.

It was hard to hate him in the throes of ecstasy, there was this horrible thrill that came the second before his fangs pierced his limb of choice as you knew you would be rewarded with bliss in the moments that followed. It was easier to hate him when he wasn’t there, his lack of presence giving your mind the briefest of reprieves to remind yourself of the horrible situation you were truly in. 

The distance, however, didn’t seem to allow him the same clarity. If anything, it made him grow more needy, more irritated, and more clingy.

The door creaked open, and your time to yourself disappeared. Your body shook tenfold as his presence filled the room. He still looked the same as he did the first time you had come face to face with him. His clothes were worse for wear, even more blood stained and shredded than they had been before. There was a permanent coppery scent that surrounded him, the dried blood being the prime suspect. 

You were certain that you didn’t smell that much better. Although, to a vampire, you probably would smell all that more enticing.

His gaze was immediately drawn to you, your eyes locking with one another, bridging the fifteen foot gap between you. His eyes often fluctuated in vibrancy depending on how hungry he was. The days where they were near black were the most difficult for you, but today they were a bright crimson red. He had fed on someone, someone who luckily wasn’t you.

“Hello little mouse,” He greeted, his voice low and surprisingly soft, devoid of the almost manic tone you had been familiar with for the longest time. 

He began to close the distance between the two of you, his gait smooth as he approached you. The way he moved was unnaturally perfect, the silent power of a predator imbued in every muscle of his body.

He wordlessly dropped a bag in your lap as he sank down to the ground beside you, his wide, red, unblinking eyes staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. No matter how much time you have spent with him, his stare was still unnerving.

It took you longer than it should have to open it, your fingers trembling beyond your control. But Jungkook was patient, he has all of the time in the world to wait.

The scent of food hit your nose, your mouth watering and your stomach growling eagerly in response. From the color of his eyes and what he had brought you, you assumed he had decided to have his fill of a hiker instead of you. 

Jungkook didn’t know how to take care of a human, that much was obvious. He had, however, been keenly aware of how much blood he was draining from your body on a daily basis. You had become so weak, anything but sitting felt like a herculean task nowadays. And the lack of consistent meals was weighing heavy on your body.

You didn’t care that he was watching you eat, your mannerisms ravenous and most likely off putting. But you no longer complained when he took his fill of you, and for some reason he remained silent and returned that courtesy. 

You had noticed a shift in his behavior when that other vampire had found the two of you not that long ago. He knew Jungkook, from the way they spoke it appeared he knew him very well. This other vampire, despite how he appeared more human than Jungkook, frightened you just as much. You could tell from the curl of his smile to his confident gait that he was just as bad, if not worse, as Jungkook.

You had nearly fainted on the spot when he suggested the two of them share you, you were already tapped out as it was, Jungkook had fed on you that morning. The two of them, together, would kill you for sure.

To your surprise, Jungkook had not responded enthusiastically. He responded like an animal defending its territory - baring his fangs and growling in just barely contained rage. And that reaction had set off the other vampire and before you knew it they were a blur of limbs.

They moved so fast your human eyes could barely keep up with them. You were only able to focus when one of them threw the other giving you just enough time to watch them separate before they came back together again. The sound their bodies made when they clashed together was like thunder from what you could only assume was the pure force and strength they possessed. And, much like animals, they ripped and tore into one another with their teeth and nails.

By the time the two of them had finally separated for good, it was because of how much they had injured one another. The both of them were covered in wounds oozing black blood, some of which was their own, and some belonging to the other.

The other vampire, whom you had briefly heard Jungkook address as Hoseok, was tired but still enraged.

“Are you fucking serious? All of this for what, a pathetic little human?!” He yelled, his nostrils flaring in anger. “It’s food, Jungkook! I’m your brother!”

Your body flinched out of habit at the snarl that left Jungkook.

“With the rate that you’re going you’ll kill her anyways! Why does it even matter?!”

“She’s my human,” Jungkook replied, his voice low with warning.

“This isn’t even supposed to be about her! She’s nothing! Namjoon sent me to come and find you but you know what, I think I’ll let you deal with the consequences of your actions. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for you and when that happens, you're on your own!”

He disappeared quickly after that, it was like he was there one moment and then vanished the next. Once he was gone, Jungkook’s once sturdy stance softened, his shoulders bending forward from the strain of his own weight. He was hurt, badly.

He slowly turned to look at you, the red of his eyes and his dark mop of hair just visible over the curve of his shoulder. You knew that look, it usually didn’t end well for you. 

“No, no, no, Jungkook, please!” You whimpered, scrambling backwards.

But it was no use, he never listened to you anyways. He always took what he wanted, even when you had nothing left to give. 

He stumbled when he moved but he quickly regained his footing, his black blood stained hands grabbing you by the shins and pulling your retreating form towards him. You fought as hard as you could but you were already weak to begin with.

“Stop it, please!” You begged, but he didn’t listen. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip too tight and utterly uncomfortable. 

“Jungkook-”

“Shut up,” He grunted before yanking your head roughly to the side and sinking his teeth back into the scarred skin of your neck. The shriek that left you was borderline inhuman, the building scar tissue made the intrusion all the more painful and Jungkook was not gentle.

And he had already taken so much blood the day before. It wasn’t long before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you went limp in his iron hold.

That was the first time that Jungkook had given you vampire blood. You had almost died that day, you had gotten so close to finally being free of him and still he wouldn’t let you go. Even death wasn’t a great enough adversary for him. 

When you had woken up after that attack, shocked that you managed to survive, you were met with those big, red, frightening eyes. The look on his face was the most serious you had ever seen it before, an odd clarity in his eyes that you were seeing for the first time.

He had been dreadfully quiet since then, speaking even less and shorter sentences than he normally did. You wouldn’t say he felt bad for what he did, but he had become increasingly aware of the inherent fragility that came with being human. He never apologized, but he had fed from you a lot less after that.

You froze mid bite as you felt his icy fingers graze your flesh, the coolness biting your skin and seeping into your veins. His touch was feather light, just barely there, but you went still beneath it anyways. You were incredibly aware of the strength that was concealed in that touch. He appeared unbothered by your response, his thumb smoothing over the curve of your jaw as he leaned in unbearably close.

You flinched at the feeling of cold metal being draped around your throat, his fingers clasping the material at the nape of your neck. It was a necklace. Your chest felt tighter, the food in your stomach quickly souring. 

He was doing it again. 

You were well aware of Jungkook’s strange and disturbing habit of taking mementos from his victims. His ears, wrists, neck, and practically every inch of his body were adorned with items he had stolen. You noticed he had an affinity for jewelry, but his jacket and boots had been taken from someone’s corpse as well. And, recently, he started bringing them back for you as well. 

Your bloody fingers were littered with several rings, a bracelet on your right wrist, and your ears decorated in earrings - some of which he had pierced himself. And now, the necklace.

It left your stomach in knots when he did this, you couldn’t help but think about the bodies abandoned in the woods that he had slaughtered every time the metal glinted back at you. Each piece felt like another shackle keeping you at his side. 

The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

And so, you had become his plaything. His dinner and now his doll, a weak body that he could play with and decorate to his greatest desires whether that be with a corpse's jewelry, or a litany of scars.

“Pretty,” He said, his voice deceptively soft as he grazed the skin of your neck, his fingers moving from the clasp of the necklace to trace over the scarred imprints of his fangs and teeth.

You were thankful that he wasn’t hungry.

The odd, calm atmosphere between the two of you was quickly dissipating. Jungkook shifted away, agitation clear on his face as an annoyed growl parted his lips. You flinched back against the wall, scooting away to stay out of his path. 

This wasn’t unusual - he had been having rapid mood swings lately.

The few moments of peace the two of you would share were often interrupted by the sudden pained twist of his features - his eyebrows drawing together and his nose scrunching in a snarl. It almost looked like he was in physical pain despite there being no signs of any injury.

And then, the pacing would start. It was like watching a caged lion sweep the perimeter of their enclosure. Back and forth, slow and menacing steps. It was like he was looking for something, or trying to guard the two of you from someone else. You hadn’t dared to ask what he was doing, to be entirely honest you tried your best to avoid initiating any interaction or conversation with him at all. The few times you did speak to him, it was usually to beg for him to leave you alone, pleas that often fell on deaf ears. 

You didn’t know what to do with this. When you first “met” him, he had been sadistic, like a zealous child with more power than they knew what to do with. He had wanted to play his sick and twisted games with you and the plan had always been to gorge himself on your blood and leave your mangled corpse deep in the forest to wither and return to the earth. That was what was familiar to you, that was what you were expecting. 

You were never supposed to live, that had been an unfortunate circumstance, a split decision he made to prolong your torture and pain. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this suddenly quiet, confused, and barely human creature in front of you. One that would rip open your flesh to feed just as soon as he would leave bruising kisses on your lips and throat, painting the flesh a rich red that was left to rust.

You were waiting for him to snap, waiting for it to all finally be over. But that would be luck, luck that you didn’t have. He had promised you, so long ago, that you would never be alone again, that he would keep you. And you have suffered the consequences ever since.

When he said your name you felt your blood freeze over. He had never said your name before, you didn’t even know that he knew it. He had always called you that horrific pet name, his little mouse.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling them into your chest in an attempt to feel some sense of security as he continued to speak. 

“We’re leaving soon.” He said, the words simple but the expression on his face ever so complex. Reluctance, frustration, pain, anxiety.  

You swallowed, but did not move. The silence was deafening. But, by the look on his face, you knew that he was waiting for your response. You would have to break the stalemate. 

“Are you…taking me home?” You dared to ask, your heart thundering in your chest as that predatory gleam returned to those red eyes. 

“No,” He growled, his jaw clenched as his fangs ground against his lower set of teeth, “You’re not going back there, ever.”

Your heart shattered. 

“I’m being called back to my home.”

His home? This was the first that you were hearing of it, you never stopped to ask yourself if he had a home. You couldn’t picture it even if you tried, it was a puzzle piece that simply didn’t fit. You had always assumed he was simply a nomadic creature that moved as he hunted. And, due to his supernatural nature, it seemed that he never needed the typical human necessities and comforts such as four walls and a roof. 

You knew he had some sort of family at the very least. You had, after all, had the displeasure of meeting Hoseok who had referred to himself as his brother. And he had mentioned the name Namjoon, the phrasing suggesting a hierarchical structure. But even the notion that he had a family felt just as mismatched. And how ironic it was that he was returning home to a family he didn’t even want, and he wouldn’t let you go home to the family that you missed so much. 

“And that’s bad?” You hesitantly asked, flinching as he growled in frustration. 

“It’s worse than bad!” He yelled, his hands sliding through his hair in stress, “It was difficult enough fending Hoseok off, but all six of them? You’re as good as dead.”

Hope.

“Then…don’t go?” You said, although it sounded more like a question. By the way he was acting, it was like returning was not a choice. 

“If only it were that easy,” He laughed, the sound bordering on being unhinged. “I can’t ignore it, if I’m called I have to answer. If I don’t it becomes more and more persistent. It feels like a cord that grows tighter and tighter until it pulls and my body moves on its own and takes me back.”

That explained the pacing, the restlessness his body had been experiencing. He had been trying to redirect it by walking the perimeter of the decrepit cottage but it had been a temporary fix to the problem. You could only assume that he was getting to the point now where his body was ready to return against his will. 

How horrible it was, to be someone’s unwilling puppet. You knew that feeling all too well. 

You didn’t know what you were supposed to tell him. There were no choices to be made by the two of you. He would have to return, and he wouldn’t leave you here on your own as he knew you would be given the greatest opportunity you have ever had to leave him. So, he would have to take you with him right into the lion’s den where you would undoubtedly be consumed.

He was mumbling to himself now, his pacing becoming more frantic and much faster, your human eyes struggling to keep track of him. You were sure that he was moving so fast he would wear down the old floorboards beneath him and the soles of his beat up boots.

You could only assume that meant the call was becoming even stronger. Before - it was asking, now it was commanding.

You had never seen him so frantic before, those wide blood red eyes unblinking and shifting back and forth faster and faster as his thoughts raced. It was borderline demonic, like something you would see during a paranormal movie or an exorcism. It was terrifying. 

You began to scoot back as far away as you could until your spine was flush with the wall behind you. You felt better with some part of you concealed from the open, but that did little to calm your racing heart and the creature that raged in front of you.

What was he so afraid of, so panicked by? You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him, not with how terrifying he was on his own. What could be so bad, so scary, that it frightened a monster? You weren't sure you wanted to find out, even if it meant you could finally feel the sweet embrace of death and escape him once and for all. 

Jungkook finally came to a stop, his body still but his eyes continued to move erratically. And then they too settled, and a look of deadly calm settled over them. He had decided something, and you were certain that whatever his decision was it wouldn’t be good for you. 

“They wouldn’t,” You heard him mutter to himself, “Not if I put a fail safe if place.”

A fail safe?

Before you could even blink he had moved across the room, faster than your eyes could track. Your body had been ripped away from the wall and set in between his legs, your spine pressed against his chest, the both of you seated on the ground.

An uncontrollable wail shook your body, the sound emanating a feeling of pure hopelessness. You had been surprised it came out of you, but you knew why. You were terrified he was going to feed from you again. 

His one arm was wrapped around your ribs, his legs tensed and forcing your own to squeeze together. He had immobilized you, there was nowhere else you could go and no way to escape him. 

Your entire body shook and heaved with hysterical breaths as you writhed in his grip. “Please, please don’t do it again I can’t take anymore of this!”

He hushed you, his free hand brushing over your hair in a surprisingly gentle manner. It was more like someone who was trying to calm a startled stray animal than anything else. His touch moved to your chin, lightly taking hold of the point where your neck and jaw bone met.

He didn’t say anything, instead he forced you to look at him, turning your face so that he could look directly into your eyes. And then, to your shock and horror, he plunged his fangs into his own wrist and ripped the flesh wide open. A torrent of thick, viscous, black blood rolled down the pale flesh of his forearm. And before you could do or say anything he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head back before pressing his open wound to your mouth. 

You gagged at the smell and taste, tears blurring your vision as you tried to move your head away but he did not budge. His arm around your ribs finally moved but only to help him pry your jaw open and force the blood flow down your throat. He continued to hush you as he forced you to drink, gently rocking your body in stark contrast to the harsh and violent hold he had you in. 

“Just relax,” He whispered against the shell of your ear, “The more you struggle, the longer I’ll keep you here. We need to get as much of my blood as possible into your system.”

You were crying even harder now, the salt of your tears slipping between his wrist and your lips and mingling with his blood in your mouth. What had you ever done to deserve this? What horrible thing had you done in some past life to deserve this kind of punishment?

You just wanted to go home. You wanted your mom and dad, your grandparents, and the gentle comfort of your bed in your childhood room. You wanted that life back, and you were never going to have it again. 

His harsh grip on your jaw loosened as you went limp in his arms, resigning yourself to your inescapable fate. His hand returned to those soothing strokes against your hair, a low hum in his chest vibrating against your back as he watched you feed from him with a curious gaze. You were such a weak little thing, you needed him more than you would ever understand. 

You hiccupped pathetically when he finally removed his wrist from your mouth after what felt like hours. Your lips and chin were stained black from the blood he spilled when you had struggled. He stared at you again, curiosity evident in his gaze, as he leaned forward and licked the flesh of your lips, tasting his own blood.

You shivered as he made a soft hum, cocking his head to the side before doing it once more, stroking over the bitten and chapped skin with his tongue as he transitioned into kissing your battered lips in a grotesque act of intimacy. He laughed against your mouth as you weakly pushed against his chest, he was amused by your pathetic attempts to push him away. It only encouraged him to kiss you harder and deeper, sampling the taste of his own blood straight from your mouth. 

Once he was satisfied he finally allowed you to breathe, a devious gleam in his eyes that you had not seen in a long time. 

“They won’t be able to kill you for a while now, not unless they want another vampire to worry about.” He said. He was gloating, reveling in the win his family had no idea he had already achieved.

Your blood ran cold, your body freezing at his revelation. The very thing you craved, your own death and by association freedom from him, would be the very thing that would trap you with him for the rest of eternity. If you were killed with his blood in your system, you would become one of them. He truly had taken everything from you, even the dignity of your own death. Your life was his and his alone.

He really was a monster.

His features suddenly twisted in pain, his head jerking to the side as he released a low and threatening growl. The call was becoming even stronger, the most intense it had ever been. There was no more delaying it. They had to go, and they had to right now. 

He quickly lifted you into his arms as his body began to move on its own, forcing him to begin to move in the direction of his home. There was nothing more that you could do, all you could do was remain limp in his arms. It was over, there was point in fighting anymore.

He had finally broken you. 

When he stepped outside you were shocked by the fresh air and the cold weather. Then again, you always feel cold now. The clouds were thick today, the sun hidden behind their cover. It had been so long since you were outside, and even longer since you had been in the sun - that wouldn’t change in the near future. But what truly shocked you, was that the world went on without you. The seasons continued to change, the flora continued to flourish and then decay. The cycles continued while you were stored away. How cruel the world was to keep going on as you withered away. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, shielding your face from the harsh wind as he began to move faster, running at his impossibly fast pace that no human could ever wish to match. How had so much changed? When did you go from human being to a play thing for a monster like him. You had a life, but now it had become inconsequential, toyed with and thrown away like it never even mattered.

What were you supposed to do now? At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter. He had won, he had played his sadistic stupid games with you, and he had won. He had broken you. You tucked your chin into your chest and like the pathetic creature that you were you whimpered.

You cared about what was going to happen next. If Jungkook had been wrong, then the two of you walking into the proverbial lion's den would end with you turning into one of them, a fate worse than any other that you could imagine. To be tied to him for all of eternity would be your personal hell on earth. 

What would they do to you when you got there? Would your death before your next life be slow and torturous, or quick and merciful? Would it be planned and intentional, or accidental? 

Jungkook began to slow, his fast pace relaxing into a natural walk. The tension that previously rested in his body had begun to dissipate. You could only speculate this was the relief of obeying the command to return home. His control over his own body was slowly but surely coming back to him the closer the two of you came to his home.

He stopped for a moment, placing you down on your own two feet before he took hold of your wrist and forced you to follow after him. Your knees wobbled beneath your weight, unaccustomed to you standing after being curled up in a ball in that abandoned shack for the longest time. You looked more like a baby fawn learning to walk than you did that meek little mouse Jungkook always thought you were. He, however, paid little attention to you at that moment. He was tense, his body in a state of alert as subtly surveyed the area as you continued on. 

He could sense something that your dull human senses weren’t entirely picking up on. However, the hair on the back of your neck prickled and your gut twisted as you felt phantom eyes digging into your body. 

Someone, somewhere, was watching you. 

A building began to break through the cluster of trees. A modern, contemporary house in the middle of the forest was coming into view. This was the last place you thought of when Jungkook had mentioned his home. In all honesty, you would have been less surprised by a crypt and a row of coffins.

In front of the house, stood a man. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his eyes that familiar shade of deep burgundy, the same shade the monster’s eyes were when he was hungry. This sent chills throughout your body, your entire being sensing the danger in the vampire that stood across from you. 

Those burgundy eyes swept towards you, a look of shock and confusion discoloring their once calm gaze that you speculated was rarely rattled. His features twisted as he took in the state of you, the dried human and vampire blood that coated your body in thick layers, the dirt that was caked into your clothing, your hair that needed to be washed, and the smattering of scars that decorated your body and glistened in the cloudy daylight. 

You were barely human anymore, you were a walking corpse.

“You called me home, Namjoon.” Jungkook simply said, his body moving to shield you from the other vampire's gaze.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon said, utter disbelief tinging his words, “What are you doing to her?” 

In every possible scenario you had conjured in your mind, this had not been one of them.

Sympathy.

_______

[acey-wacey]

True Love's Kiss

Feat. Idia, Azul, Vil

Synopsis: You've fallen under a mysterious sleeping spell. Who can wake you up but your true love?

...

🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮

"ME?!"

Idia's shriek resounded through the infirmary before he was hushed by one of the nurses. He shrunk back in his embarrassment and turned back to the cheeky cat that was standing on the infirmary bed next to your sleeping form.

"Yes, you, shut-in. What have you got brimstone on your ears?" Grim scowled at the blue-haired boy who's hair was becoming quite pink with embarrassment. "Who else would kiss my henchman awake?"

"Literally anyone else, maybe?" Idia argued, hiding his face behind the collar of his jacket. "It's always Prince Charming in the stories. I'm about the farthest thing you could find."

"I think you're plenty charming, Idia!" Ortho chimed in with what would have been a smile if he didn't have his mask on. "Who's to say you won't break the spell?"

"I say," Idia groaned, his voice muffled by his jacket. "Aren't there any other cures? I thought Professor Crewel was working on an antidote."

Before Grim could open his mouth, Ortho interrupted.

"Nope! No other cure!" Ortho beamed with glee uncharacteristic for delivering grave news. "I already scanned and if my databases say there's no other cure than there's no other cure and you have to kiss them!"

Idia whined in mortification and buried himself further in his jacket, now almost entirely engulfed by the fabric, except for the tufts of flaming hair sticking out the top.

Grim tapped his paw impatiently, quite fed up with Idia's reservations. Every second you were asleep was a second that your poor, poor kitty boss went without tuna (he couldn't reach the cabinet where you put the cans).

"I could always go get Leona. He's a prince, so it's close enough, yeah?"

"No!" Idia shot up, his hair flared up in red, startling Grim so bad, Ortho had to catch him before he fell off the bed. Idia took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair until it returned to its regular electric blue.

"Don't even joke about that," Idia muttered through gritted teeth. "Makes my skin crawl to think of that grubby jock getting his slimy lips anywhere near Y/N."

"Fine, if you don't want anyone else to do it, then what's the issue?" Grim put his paws on his hips and shot Idia an impatient look. "You like them, they like you, they probably want to kiss you anyway so just hop to it! I'm starving over here!"

Idia snapped up in shock at Grim's words.

"Y/N... likes me?"

Grim scoffed in ridicule and rolled his eyes.

"Duh! What, have you been living under a rock? Oh, wait, you have, haven't you?"

Ortho immediately began protesting Grim's insult. Idia himself might've been offended if he wasn't preoccupied with his overheating brain.

Why in Wonderland would you like him? I mean that was just a ridiculous claim even though both Grim and Ortho seemed to believe it. Not many people even liked being around him much... but then again, you weren't other people.

You were the one who messaged him to go to sleep at midnight after gaming for too long. You brought him snacks and sat in comfortable silence in his dorm while he played video games. You never expected more from him and without realizing it, he has gotten used to having you next to him. It even happened sometimes that he would turn to say something to you while he was gaming, only to find you weren't there. It baffled him how you made your way into his daily routine almost without notice.

"Do they really?" Idia asked softly, catching the attention of both Grim and Ortho who had been exchanging some heated words of childlike manner. "Like me, I mean."

Ortho giggled at his brother's bashfulness.

"Of course they do! They never shut up about you!" Grim huffed, recalling the countless times he'd heard you practically gushing about the vitamin D deficient geek. "No clue why though. Guess Y/N likes 'em pale and sickly."

"I'm not- whatever," Idia didn't really have the fight in him to argue with Grim's impression of him. He took a deep breath and looked at Ortho. "Do you really think it would work?"

"Only one way to find out!" the little robot responded cheerily.

"What if..." Idia gulped. "What if it doesn't work and I just kiss them for nothing? What if..."

"Shut up and pucker up, dracula! I'm wasting away without my henchman!"

That earned Grim a pair of yellow-eyed glares.

Idia collected himself with a deep breath and leaned towards you.

"Nope, nope, nope, this is a bad idea, I can't do this," he panicked, standing up and waving his hands around in anxiety. Grim rolled his eyes and jumped onto Idia's shoulders, pushing him onto you with all the momentum the little creature could muster.

It was effective. Idia toppled forward onto the infirmary bed, catching himself just in time to not crush you, but not before his lips brushed yours.

Idia jumped back, crashing to the floor quite devoid of grace. He, Ortho, and Grim all held their breath, waiting for something to happen.

"Aw, man, our first kiss, and I wasn't even awake for it!"

Idia brightened at the sound of your voice. He jumped back to his feet to see your drowsy eyes locked on him.

"Hi, Charming," you lazily smiled at the blue-haired boy. "Thanks for rescuing me."

Idia's face went slack with shock and his face turned so red you were afraid he might explode.

"Perfect! Now that you're awake, get me tuna, human!"

...

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

"This is such a bad idea."

Deuce echoed for the nth time since Ace had come up with his little scheme.

"I know but just think," Ace smirked at your sleeping body, which the two were carrying through the Octavinelle dorm, Ace supporting your arms, Deuce carrying your legs, like they were carrying a dead body. "Imagine the look on the prefect's face when they wake up and see Azul They'll probably think they're dreaming."

"Yeah, I think they've had that dream before," Grim scowled from where he rode atop your belly. "Wouldn't be surprised with how down-bad they are for that slimy little junior mafia boss."

"It'll be fine, I'm sure," Ace dismissed, ignoring Deuce's concerned look. "And if anything bad happens, it'll probably be the prefect ending up with a contract, not us."

"That's kind of a terrible thing to say about a cursed person," Deuce pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Pssh, where'd your moral compass come from, huh?"

"From my mom," Deuce spat defensively. Ace was about to respond when they were both startled by a looming figure standing menacingly behind Deuce.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Both first years gulped in fear at the sound of the eel's unison voices.

"Is our poor prefect injured?" Jade frowned though his eyes held a devious sparkle.

"Sort of..." Grim started but jumped back when Floyd grinned at him menacingly.

"We can't have Shrimpy being hurt, now can we?" he flashed his sharp teeth at the sleeping prefect. "We'll take 'em off your hands, fix 'em up real nice."

"Will we get them back?" Ace asked, fearing the answer. Jade responded with a squinty smile.

"That remains to be seen."

"Hey, wait a minute-!" Deuce tried to protest but was cut off when Floyd lifted your limp body with two hands and flung you over his shoulder.

"Careful, Floyd," Jade warned. "We can't have damaged goods."

The unfortunate trio was left to watch as you were hefted into the Mostro Lounge, wondering if they would ever see you again.

Meanwhile, in the Mostro Lounge, Azul was peacefully tallying profits in his office when his door was kicked down.

"What the-" he shrieked. Azul stared in horror as Floyd barged into the room with a body flung over his shoulder. "Did you... Did you actually kill someone this time?"

"Not this time," Floyd responded cheerfully. Azul managed to stand up from his chair right before Jade swept everything off of the polished mahogany desk in front of him.

"What are you doing?!" Azul yelled but was quickly silenced when Floyd set your limp body down on the now-empty desk. "Is that Y/N?"

"Yup!" Floyd said, popping the "p" with a sly smile.

"Are they...?" Azul asked hesitantly.

"Just sleeping, fortunately," Jade responded with a similar grin. "But I'm afraid it's the work of magic. They won't wake until..."

At this point Azul was very concerned. His crush was unconscious on his desk and his business associates were far too smug to have good intentions.

"Until what? Seven's sake, just tell me why you brought them here!"

"Very well," Jade bowed his head in respect that felt more mocking than anything. "The prefect will remain asleep until they are woken up by true love's kiss. It is the belief of myself as well as Y/N own friends that you may be able to fulfill this requirement."

It must have been at least a full minute before Azul spoke again.

Jade waited patiently with a smile as Azul stared in shock and confusion, the gears behind his eyes obviously turning at superhuman speeds.

Azul finally snapped back into his regular businessman persona.

"Well, of course, I am obviously the most qualified candidate to undertake his task," Azul said nonchalantly, though both eels could easily tell it was a front.

"We'll leave you two alone then!" Floyd winked suggestively at Azul, the octopus' calm facade cracking ever so slightly.

Jade and Floyd shut the door to Azul's office and he could hear their laughter through the wood.

Azul took a deep breath and looked at your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, your forehead free from worried wrinkles and lips devoid of any kind of scowl. Azul was used to being on the receiving end of some of these scowls/ incredulous looks. He couldn't deny he might have deserved some of the scrutiny you gave him, given that he did attempt to trick your friends into contracts so you would have to come visit him to save them. Perhaps if you wanted him to stop, you should stop wearing that adorable pout when you confront him!

You took a breath and Azul stood up so fast it scared him.

"Sevens," Azul muttered, running a hand through his hair. "When did I get this jumpy?"

He looked at you once more, taking in every still detail about you.

"Might as well stare, since you'll never be this calm around me again," he whispered as if he was afraid you would hear him through your enchantment. He sighed contentedly as he stared at your sleeping face.

After only a few seconds, he snapped himself back out of it.

"Stop it, Azul, that's creepy," he scolded himself, taking to pacing around his room. "Though to be fair, kissing someone who is under an enchanted sleep is far more creepy than just looking at them."

He peered at you again. Though it was easy to admire your serene expression, it was uncanny to see your face motionless, without a laugh or groan or yell behind it. Azul took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.

"Even if they hate me forever, it's worth a shot," he quietly hyped himself up. "But isn't it just true love's kiss? There's no way I'm their true love, that would be impossible. They dislike me far too much. But I would never forgive myself if I could have saved them..."

Azul grappled with his inner thoughts for who knows how long, before landing on the conclusion that he should just go for it and kiss you.

"If they do wake up, I'll apologize profusely until they forgive me for kissing them and then possibly draft a marriage contract...?" Azul hit himself in the head to snap himself out of it. "Stop it. Now's not the time to be thinking about that."

Azul took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.

"Oh, screw it!"

He exclaimed and rushed back to his desk, pressing his lips to yours before he could rethink it. It was the slightest kiss, barely even a kiss. Azul wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he had truly taken advantage of you.

He turned away faster than even the brief kiss. He held his breath, trying to notice tiny details about his walls to distract himself from the tension.

"What is... Where am I?"

Azul spun around, eyes wide with genuine shock. Upon seeing you groggily looking around, he straightened and cleared his throat.

When you turned toward the noise, you saw Azul, the absolute picture of perfection he always was. You would never have known he was feeling anything akin to anxiety if it weren't for the nervous tapping of his custom-tailored leather shoes.

"Azul?" You narrowed your eyes, taking in your environment. You were laying on a table, alone in a small room with Azul. "What is this? Don't tell me you finally got the tweels to drug me."

Azul opened his mouth to protest, a bit concerned that you were so used to stuff like that that you just sounded tired instead of worried, but he remembered his gentlemanly guise and rethought his next words.

"Honestly, Y/N, do you really think me so cruel?" Azul smirked, praying to the Seven for an excuse you would buy so he wouldn't have to explain the real situation. "I was not the one who brought you here. You were merely... dumped on my doorstep, shall we say."

"I just remember Ace and Grim screwing around in alchemy and they dropped some dumb potion..." You put together vague pieces of your memory before it clicked. "Ooooh, sleeping potion. I was knocked out, wasn't I? Bit stupid of those idiots to bring me here, but isn't that how they always are."

You jumped off the table as if you hadn't just been passed out. Azul was honestly surprised by your chipperness. You sighed and turned to him.

"So what did you do? What do I owe you?" You looked at Azul expectantly. He blinked a couple times before he felt embarrassing heat rise on his neck.

"I didn't- well I- that is to say-" Azul stared, scrambling for words. Nobody but you could make him this inarticulate. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "You don't owe me. If anything, I should be paying you for recompense."

You furrowed your eyebrows, very skeptical of any supposed kindness coming from NRC's resident schemer.

"What do you mean recompense? What happened?"

"I may have-" Azul coughed, trying to brush off what was so clearly bothering him. "This particular enchantment required-" Another cough. "I believe the particular wording was a true love's kiss. I provided a kiss of such manner. Because of the impropriety of this particular cure, I feel a certain responsibility to compensate you for such lack of consent."

You stared for a long time. Azul imagined that must have been what he looked like when Jade first told him about your condition.

"True love's kiss..." You trailed off, subconsciously bringing your fingers to your lips.

"Yes and I will be happy to provide compensation for emotional or physical damages or- or other."

You looked at Azul incredulously.

"You just told me you're my true love and you think I want money?!"

Azul was quite confused now.

"Do you not want money?"

"Well, I could always use it but at the particular moment, what I really want is for this dumb octopus to come and give me a real kiss."

...

🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞

It had been a few hours since you had been unceremoniously dumped on Pomefiore's doorstep. Apparently, some alchemical accident had happened, leaving you magically asleep with no known cure. Crowley had dropped your limp body at Pomefiore and offered extra credit to anyone who could fix you. It only made sense. After all, the Fairest Queen was quite proficient at potions, and so Vil prided himself on the same.

No one else had dared touch you once he spotted your body and glared at them. He had Rook carry you to the makeshift potions lab next to Vil's room. Rook, ever the drama queen, took every step to ensure your comfort while in your enchanted sleep. He set you up on a table with plush pillows and a lacy blanket. Vil thought the flowers Rook had arranged in your hands were a bit excessive but he was more preoccupied with finding a cure.

Vil told himself he was doing it for the extra credit, but really, anyone who knew him knew he didn't need it. Some part of him didn't like seeing you cursed.

For the past two hours, Vil had been rifling through every potion book he had, trying multiple recipes and feeling a little more disheartened every time it didn't work. One of the elixirs he whipped up burned right through his potted fern. He elected not to test that one on you.

Eventually, Vil came upon a book about curse-breaking.

"Can't believe I didn't see this before," he muttered to himself, flipping open the table of contents.

There was only one page on sleep spells. Vil ran his finger over the passage as he read it.

"The only way a sleep spells can be reversed is thought true love's..." Vil interrupted himself with a scoff. "That's ridiculous, that can't be the only way."

He looked over at your sleeping form, clutching your bouquet of flowers. The color was drained from your face and even the shade of your clothes looked grayer. Vil felt a pang of emotion, like a hand squeezing his heart at the sight of you so lifeless.

You were usually so full of life, bringing joy to those close to you. You stayed just out of the limelight, content to support your friends in their shenanigans but having your own fun outside of the public eye. Oftentimes, you took Vil along with you, giving him a taste of what it's like to be treated like a normal person.

It disturbed him so see you devoid of a smile or eye-roll or any sort of emotion that you wore on your sleeve.

No matter what it took, he would find a cure.

"You've already found a cure," Vil imagined you saying to him. "You're just too scared to use it."

"What do you know?" Vil grumbled quietly. Had he really fallen so far he was talking to himself? He wished you were really talking to him, really showing signs of life, even if it was to scold him. "There must be another cure somewhere. I don't care how long it takes me to find it."

"You know true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world," Vil's imaginary you said. "There isn't another way. And besides, would you rather me be awake now instead of in the 6 months it takes you to find something else?"

Vil huffed, more annoyed by the fact that he really didn't want to wait than what you were saying.

"Then why don't you tell me how to find your true love, hm? That'll take me longer than 6 months."

His imaginary you just stared at him, blinking pointedly. He stared back, trying to decipher what his psyche was trying to tell him.

"You don't think..." His face fell when he realized what that look meant. "It's not me, believe me."

"Well, some part of you obviously thinks it could be, because I think it could be you and I'm just in your head," you shrugged.

"I refuse," he immediately declared, turning away from where your real self laid. "If you were real, you would not agree. And by the way, who am I to kiss you while you're asleep?"

Vil looked over at your peaceful face and he swore he could see incredulity in your motionless expression.

"Stop looking at me like that, potato. I refuse to kiss you without proper consent."

Imaginary you stared at Vil again, unsettling him more.

"Come now, I don't need this from both of you," he picked up a potion book, pretending to read it.

"You could save me," imaginary you offered, your voice solemn in a way he couldn't imagine perfectly. He'd never heard you that serious. Guilt suddenly hit him in the chest, drawing his attention back to you.

Vil stared at you longingly for much longer than he would have allowed himself if you were conscious. He groaned and walked towards you.

"I want to save you, Y/N," Vil declared wistfully as he stood over you. "I do know if I can be your true love, but Seven, I'm out of ideas."

Vil leaned closer to you and brushed a hair out of your face.

"Maybe I'll be able to do this right one day."

Vil brought his lips to yours gently, barely touching them before he pulled away. He watched your face for any signs of movement. When you stayed stationary, he turned away, trying to shut out his disappointment.

"Honestly, when did I get so delusional?" Vil scoffed, desperately trying to push down his feelings. "In what sort of foolish fantasy do I count as Y/N's true love?"

"Mine, probably."

Vil whirled around, his usual grace abandoned in his shock at hearing your voice in his ears in lieu of his head.

You groaned as you sat up, a bit confused as you examined the flowers you were holding.

"Sorry, that was probably a dumb thing to say," you laughed, shocking Vil with how easily you adjusted to your surroundings. "Though I guess you really are my true love. You can't try to deny it, I've got the receipts."

Vil's lip quirked up at your instant snap back to teasing.

"My word against yours, potato."

...

Buy me a Kofi! ☕

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

God ever since reading A Gilded Cage I cant get the thought out of my head of a part 2 where Reader doesn't see Jason for a few days after the revelation. Like maybe he thinks he's being kind and giving us some time to process, maybe he's on his angst again, or maybe some outside factor has taken his attention so the only time he's able to visit is while we're asleep.

And the whole night of the reveal feels like a fever dream when we wake up but there's a blanket draped over us and a fuzzy little kitten purring up a storm on our chest (in my heart his name is Bean (short for Toebean)), so we're at least kind of sure it happened. But as the time passes with no sign of Jason our certainty begins to wane and until we finally get fed up and write on the notepad the first thing we've asked for since that night: "You."

Or something like that idek okay I've been over here clawing at my walls frothing at the mouth I never really even liked ak!Jason before reading your stuff and now I'm feral for him and its all your fault and I'm not even mad about it

A Glimmering Collar

AKA Part Two of this series. Ahh, nonnie, you literally cooked with this. I love when my fics inspire people enough to keep thinking on them! Seriously, ty for dropping these ideas in my inbox cause I had nothing going on in my brain for a part two initially. Hope you enjoy!

~2.6k words

You wake up to something tickling your nose. Your body feels heavy, your mind even more so. Nothing in you is ready to open your eyes, to face the fact that last night could all have been a dream. That he isn't– that was just a dream.

Something soft flicks your nose again, and you force your eyes open. You blink hard once. Then twice. It's a kitten. It's tiny, and it's sitting by your face. Every few seconds, its tail sways and brushes your nose.

Oh. You sit up slowly, trying not to frighten the small thing. It looks at you contently over its shoulder and meows. The kitten stretches as you stare at it, then plops itself directly on the blanket resting over your lap.

Huh. There's a blanket you definitely don't remember grabbing sprawled over your legs. You carefully reach down to pet the kitten's head. Your heart melts a little when it nuzzles your fingers and purrs.

You look around the room slowly. Nothing else looks different. The notepad is still in place, but the kitten and blanket all point to one thing. Last night was real. Jason is alive. Jason is the Arkham Knight.

You're trying to wrap your brain around that when the door flies open, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

"Good morning!!" A flurry of voice call from the doorway. Your eyes widen as three brightly dressed people strut their way into your apartment, "Are you ready for your shopping trip, hun?"

"My– excuse me?" You stumble out, tucking the kitten to your chest as you stand.

They giggle, and one of them steps forward, "Your shopping trip, sweetie! And spa day, of course. Oh, ha, we haven't even been introduced, have we? I'm Krystal with a K, she's Destini with an i and he's Robbi also with an i."

Robbi huffs and walks up to you to pet your kitten, "Why can't you ever introduce Destini second? She can be Destini also with an i, ya know."

The other girl walks up to you as well and picks affectionately at your clothes, "Because it's alphabetical that way, Robbi. Now you better go get dressed, we have brunch reservations and mimosa plans!"

"I– sorry? What?" You ask, eyes darting between the three of them. Whatever this is, you can't keep up. You've barely processed Jason kidnapped you, and now you're supposed to go get a massage and drinks?

"The boss wants you to go out," a flat voice cuts in. You're the only one that stiffens at the sight of two large men stepping through the door.

Krystal speaks up, "We're here to make sure you have a good time! And Mack and John are here to keep us safe!"

"Mack and John," You echo weakly.

"Your body guards, silly," Destini chirps, ushering you to your room. She plucks the kitten from your hands, "Now get dressed! Wear something nice!"

You stare at the door as she shuts it. What just happened? You hear them chattering happily in the kitchen, idly talking about pregaming your shopping trip.

Your whole mind is a mess, and you sluggishly get ready, thoughts whirling. You've barely talked to soul since you were kidnapped, and now you have five new names to remember, a kitten, and a day out.

You're not exactly sure if you should be unsettled or grateful at how quickly Jason worked to get you what you asked for. By the time you've opened your bedroom door, Krystal, Destini and Robbi are passing around a flask, and playfully trying to get your 'bodyguards' to drink it.

You wonder what they must think of all this. Who they think you are. You're struck with the realization that Jason must be paying them to entertain you today.

You don't get to linger on the thought before Robbi hooked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the door, "Let's gooo, the brunch place we're going to does the best pineapple mimosas. Or cherry, if that's your thing."

"Wait," Mack– or John, you're not exactly sure which one is which– stops you, "Boss wants you to wear this."

The girls and Robbi coo in awe when Mack opens a box, revealing a glittery, jaw-dropping choker. You waver at the sight of it. It's not that it doesn't match what you're wearing. You'd dressed up like Destini suggested, but it feels like some kind of trap.

You reluctantly pick up the necklace, eyeing how it catches the light, "Is it– are sure it's safe to wear this out?" Safety isn't really what you're concerned about at the moment.

You're more worried about the crushing weight that this means more than you understand.

John nods once, "There won't be any problems."

Krystal happily plucks the necklace from your fingers, and before you have time to argue, she drapes the necklace around your throat. "It's beautiful, hun. Just like you. Let's go get you something to eat," her voice is soft, measured, and full of so much understanding it makes you want to cry.

You don't know much they know, but when she hooks her arm with yours to guide you out the door, you have a feeling there's more awareness than their bubbly attitudes let on.

The day ends up being wonderful. Being around people, out under the sun (the sun Gotham does get), was rejuvenating. You had fun, joked, smiled, and for a day, it was almost like you didn't have a prison cell to go back to.

The food was delicious, the spa relaxing, and you didn't have to carry back a single bag. Krystal had flashed a black card at every payment, every place ever could want to shop at, reassuring you it's all been taken care of.

But the time you've collapsed on the couch, exhausted but content, the uneasy feelings from this morning are gone.

You settle on the cushions to wait for Jason. To thank him for listening or to yell at him for still keeping you here, you're not exactly sure yet.

But he doesn't come, you fall asleep in your expensive necklace and pretty clothes with one hand petting your kitten. He doesn't come the next day either, at least not while you're awake, but Krystal, Destini, and Robbi do.

Your friends, the people being paid to entertain you are nice, perfect even. They're exactly what you would have asked for.

Your kitten is perfect too, it cuddles with you at night and nuzzles under your chin after you're left alone, when the unease finds its way back to you.

It's been days since you've seen him. It's starting to feel like a lifetime. You know he comes back after you fall asleep, he moves things. You think it's his way of showing that he listened, that he came back because you asked.

The notepad, the one you haven't written on since that night, shifts closer to you on the glass table if you sleep on the couch.

The glimmering choker gets pulled out of the drawer every time you try to put it away. Your kitten has a growing collection of toys and things to climb on.

It's obvious he's visiting, so why won't he let you see him? Day five of dancing around each other breaks you. You want to see him, want to talk to him, and understand. You want Jason.

Your hand shakes a little, when you go to write on the notepad, and when you wake up the next morning, the paper is blank again.

You wait. You wait some more. All day you wait for him. No one else comes. It's strangely quiet, with just you and your kitten. You've just about given up, collapsed in your bed, when the glowing whites of his helmet catch your attention.

You sit up quickly and throw your legs off the bed as you stare into the doorway, "You came."

"Did you mean it," he asks, any emotion he's feeling hidden by the aggravating modulator.

"Mean what," You question, standing off the bed to walk closer to him, "Will you take the mask off?"

He doesn't move for a moment, just takes in the sight of you. The silence that drags almost makes you regret the question, but he carefully pulls off his helmet, "What you wrote. That you wanted me."

"I– yeah, Jason. I haven't– it's been days since I saw you," You only notice mid sentence that his hand is reaching for your face, it makes your voice waver. "You never answered any of my questions," You finish weakly.

His hand stills and he drops it, "Questions. That's what you wanted?"

You nod a little, searching his face for any hint of what he's feeling, but he gives nothing away.

He sighs softly, and looks away, adjusting his helmet under his arm. You think he might look disappointed, "I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

"Why not," You question softly, worried to push him away.

Jason turns his focus back to you, "I just need you to stay here. Please," he sighs out your name, and his hand twitches as if to touch you, "Don't fight me on this."

"That's not fair," You mumble, "Why am I here, Jason? You know I would have listened if you came to talk to me instead of– this."

Silence falls again, and he steps past you into your room. He sets his helmet on your dresser and picks up the choker resting on the wooden surface, "I wish you would wear this. I picked it out for you."

"Jason," You start, tracking his movements.

"I know," he cuts you off, "but I told you, you don't need to understand anything." You stiffen when he steps back towards you and guides you to turn around.

The air leaves your lungs as his gloves brush over your skin. He sets the necklace around your throat, and even after it rests heavy against your skin, his touch lingers.

"You just need to stay here. It's safe. I've given you everything you've asked for, and everything you haven't," Jason says softly, stepping out from behind you. His gaze lingers on your neck for a moment, and the stifling, unexplainable feeling sets back into your gut.

Your words stick in your throat. There's a sense of danger, one that doesn't make sense. Jason wouldn't hurt you. Not the Jason you know. But is this the Jason you know? The thought makes you want to tear the choker from your skin and throw it at him.

"It feels like a collar," You say quietly, and your breath hitches when his gaze snaps go yours, "I mean, it's pretty. Really. But, it feels– like it's more," You stumble out.

He nods slowly, and he doesn't stop himself from touching you this time. His fingers trace the choker, linger over your collarbones, brush along your pulse, "Maybe it is."

You blink at him, every thought flying from your brain, "What?"

He hums softly, hooking a finger under the shiny jewels to draw you closer, "Does that scare you? Knowing that you can't leave? Knowing that no matter how pretty these are, it's just another way to keep you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," you say instead, it sounds like you believe it, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

"I don't want to," He admits, fingers leaving your throat to trail up your jaw, "but I probably could."

"I don't believe that. I remember–" He tuts, tapping your cheek. Your heart drops when you realize he's mirroring where his own brand is.

"I'm not what you remember," he says firmly, before whispering your name, "I'm not that Jason. Not really."

"Then who are you," You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer. You want to pretend he's still something you know.

His eyes dart over your face, then back down to the necklace, "I'm still Jason. But I'm also the Arkham Knight."

"What does that mean," You push, reach up to grab his wrist, demanding his attention, demanding real answers.

"It means that you stay. It means that I give you what you want. Everything and anything except leaving," he says, voice lowering to something kinder, gentler, "it'll make sense eventually. You'll be happy here. Safe."

"Will that make you happy?" You ask, fingers tightening on his wrist. Half of you wants to pull him away, stop him from tracing patterns over your cheek, but the other part of you wants to press his hand closer.

Something flicks in his eyes at your words, "Yes."

"Will it keep you safe?" You murmur, eyes locked on his.

He doesn't answer, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment, "Safety is an option I don't have."

"It could be, if you wanted it," You say, dropping his wrist. It must be true. Even with all the secrets he's keeping, his evasive disappearing act, he could take off the armor. Leave behind the new symbol engraved over his chest.

He laughs a little and swipes his thumb under your eye, "I'm glad that you don't understand. It's good, that they didn't twist you into something unrecognizable."

"Understand?" You prompt, unsettled by his laughter.

"That they need to pay. All of them do," he smiles a little, it's a mockery of the one you remember. Jason traces the choker one last time before stepping back.

"You're leaving," You say, not a question, a statement of fact. He's leaving, without explaining anything again.

"I am," he affirms, moving to grab his helmet.

"I want you to stay," You breathe out and he freezes in place.

He exhales softly and faces you again, "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do. I want you to stay," You repeat, reaching out to push his helmet back towards the dresser.

"And then what?" He asks lowly, a warning, "What do you expect to happen?"

It makes you waver, "I– I don't know. But it's what I want."

It's another long moment of nothing before he answers, gesturing towards the bed, "Go to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

He nods at your question, unceremoniously dragging the chair from your desk to your bedside.

"Is that going to be comfortable–" You begin, settling yourself in the bed.

"You're overthinking it," he mumbles, waving at you to lay down. You do, watching as your kitten jumps into his lap, curling up like this is something that happens all the time. (You have the feeling it is) "Have you named him," he asks quietly.

"The kitten? Mm, no. Wanted you to," You say softly, carefully not to unsettle either of them.

"I wouldn't be good at it," Jason protests, eyes flicking between you and the kitten.

"I don't mind," You murmur, "anything's better than 'kitten'."

He pauses, so quiet and still you think he won't answer, "Bean," he mumbles, reluctant as the newly appointed Bean cuddles into his armor.

You smile, "Bean's a good name."

He doesn't answer, seemingly engrossed with watching the kitten.

You take him in for another moment, memorizing his face before closing your eyes. It's not an accident that you leave your palm open and face up by the side of the bed.

There's no more pleasantries exchanged, no sweet goodnights or the gentle touches against your face you've grown used to. But just as you finally start to drift off, as darkness finally draws you to rest, a warm, rough hand weaves itself into yours and squeezes.

Part Three

[kbspangler]

This is the public statement from @alepresser and myself which went up at Webtoons tonight.

Now for some ranting. Just from me, not from Ale—she's innocent of the art crimes I've committed in the past, and boy howdy have I committed art crimes.

This is the first page of my first webcomic, A Girl and Her Fed. I started this thing back in 2006. (I don't actually need a head count of those reading this who weren't yet born in 2006. I'm sure you're delightful and I wish you well in college.)

And this is the last page I drew in early 2020 before I turned art duties over to Dr. Beer. It's better, right?

Well, these days, A Girl and Her Fed has pages like this:

I drew this comic for fourteen fucking years because it's a story I wanted to tell, and I thought webcomics were the perfect format for it. I didn't know how to draw. I got better through sheer obstinate perseverance and sticking to deadlines as best I could for, again, fourteen fucking years. I sought out a replacement artist when I ran into time constraints and couldn't do art plus writing anymore; I'm a much better writer than an artist, so I had no problems whatsoever kicking art to the curb.

The first time Ale sent me art that would go up on the website—art I hadn't needed to draw myself—I literally cried in relief because I had been grinding myself down for, yet again, fourteen fucking years.

So when I read comments from people who say they want to make a webcomic but can't draw themselves and therefore need to resort to AI, that little line between my eyes gets dangerously deep.

This isn't like I'm some old dude who's bitching over student loans getting cancelled after making regular payments. This is me, someone who threw raw art onto the internet like a monkey hurling fresh poo, because I wanted to make a webcomic and the art is part of the process of storytelling via webcomics! I could've (arguably should've) hired an artist right out of the gate, and that would've been part of the process of making comics, too: a partnership between an artist and a writer is also something which grows and develops over time.

For example, after Dr. Beer and I spent two years working on AGAHF, we decided we enjoyed our partnership so much that we set out to make another webcomic! It's great! It's got wonderful art and consistent storytelling! You should read it!

But turning art duties over to unaltered images generated by AI because you want to make a webcomic but "just can't draw" is, frankly, a bullshit excuse. I'm not talking about persons who are physically unable to draw due to disability—I'm talking about people who say they want to make webcomics but simply don't wanna do the art part.

Friends, if you don't want to show your entire ass in front of God and country, you don't actually want to make a webcomic.

Do the thing yourself.

If you're scared, don't be. Take the plunge. Set a goal of twenty strips and do the thing yourself. If you can already draw but can't write? Great! Write twenty strips, write forty panels, etc. You might surprise yourself. If you can write but can't draw? Great! Draw twenty panels and see what happens.

Whatever comes out of it, it's a thing you've done yourself. It's something new you've given to the world, no matter how big or small. Be proud of that. And if you need to partner with someone else to make your comic dreams work? You can do that, too! It's still a thing you've done yourself, and many projects are stronger when done together.

...but maaaaaaaaaybe hire that partner before you've busted your own ass for fourteen fucking years. That one's on me.