#tw.minors

[iwaasfairy]

please don’t send me asks about anyone in high school in sexual situations (or younger istfg)

I’m not ever gonna write high schoolers or high school gojo or nothin. thank you

[ofallthingsnasty]

Scenario where Arlongs human pet falls pregnant 👉👈

oh, anon, you're so evil... i love it 😔💕

references this post

tw.minors dni, forced pregnancy, noncon, dehumanization, mutilation mention, read the tags and read them twice

It's simultaneously the best and worst thing that can happen to you in this situation.

The best because it provides you with a breather of sorts - and the worst because well, you're pregnant with that man's child. You might think he’d be angry with you - far from that, actually. The moment he catches on, he’ll be nothing but thoroughly pleased with himself. It means that he has fully tainted you, claimed every inch of your body. Of course you'd get knocked up, he'll say, how could your little human womb ever withstand his seed. And if he hasn’t called you his little cow before - he’s definitely going to, now. As utterly humiliating it is to have him smile down at you with nothing but smug malice, it also elevates your status significantly. Suddenly there is a place to sleep for you, even regular meals. No more crawling around on all fours to amuse him or the crew, no more heavy feet on your back when he decides he’d rather use you as a footstool, no more hands all over your body, pinching, groping, slapping you - and, most importantly, no more impromptu violence, at least to the extent you experienced beforehand. That little thing in you is far too valuable to torture its vessel over and risk losing it. (And he’ll tell you all about it - that he’s only being so nice to you because you’re carrying his child.) Does it mean that you’re suddenly living an almost normal life despite the circumstances? Absolutely not. You’ll still need to make yourself useful to him - you’re still their little maid-servant and work from dusk to dawn, still have to serve Arlong to your best abilities - but the abuse shifts from physical to verbal. It’s still hard, but with a full belly, a decent place to sleep and without the looming threat of getting drowned just for fun, harsh words are way, way easier to withstand than before. He is obsessed with your bump - he definitely makes you wear clothing that emphasizes it the moment you even start to remotely show. It’s the deepest form of branding to him and he develops a sick pleasure in showing you off to your old friends and family in the village that you used to call your home. He parades you around like he just bred his pedigree dog, talks on and on about how you’ve finally fully submitted and saw the light, saw what’s best for you, how you know your place - all to the mortification of the people you used to know. He’ll make a whole show of getting you examined by your old town doctor, makes sure you’re at every check-up, each time a little fuller than before, showing off your progress. (And god have mercy on them if they try to help you get rid of it because it’s an open secret that this pregnancy is entirely unwanted. He’ll slit them open top to bottom on the town square and threaten to cut your feet off - if you dare to kill his offspring he’ll simply fuck another one in you, he’ll say, expression beyond good and evil. You’ll lose a finger for the attempt; if you try again, it’ll be a limb.)

Not to mention that he’s ravenous. It’s like a switch has been flipped in his brain - where he has forced himself on you in the past to get his dick wet, to get some use out of you, he suddenly can’t keep his hands to himself because of some new-found attraction. And the more you’re showing, the worse it gets. He’ll fuck you until the day you’re due, no matter how much you complain or how straining it is for you. It’s something he retains until after you’ve given birth - from that moment on, you’ve gone from the human toy to his little breeding stock and he’ll make sure to put you to good use. You’ll never be empty again if he can help it - he’s found a new ‘feature’ of yours to exploit and he’s going to keep at it until you’re a shell of your former self, until you collapse.

And you better hope the baby takes more after him than you - he’s not going to be kind to a little half fish-man who looks more like a human than him. That poor baby has a beyond bleak future in front of them. (Don’t even think of trying to escape with your child - he’ll make you regret it every single day of your remaining life, that’s for sure.)

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

September Scribbles - Tuesday, September 14th

Genre: Angsty/Fighting

Featuring: Miya Atsumu (1.6k wc)

Prompt: “Great. Really great, this is just perfect.” (prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting)

WARNING: Minor injury (character cutting hand while trying to pick up broken glass,) blood (from small cut on hand NOT self-inflicted,) yelling, arguing, hurt

To say Miya Atsumu was in a bad mood would be a massive understatement.

Miya Atsumu is in a Terrible Mood. Bad enough to cast clouds over his head wherever he went. He thinks they formed sometime last night, during an argument with you about a reunion he wanted to go to in Hyogo.

“I don’t mind that you want to go,” you argued. “You just didn’t give me any warning and my parents are in town this weekend to come and see us.”

“I can see yer parents any time!” He snapped back. “How many times can I see everyone from school? Stupid Akagi didn’t say he was comin’ home!”

“Atsumu, you made a commitment to see my parents! And we can’t see them all the time, they live over two hours away.”

“Fine!” He shouted. “Have it yer way, as usual!”

He had stopped from the room, missing your shocked and wounded look. Atsumu had also elected to sleep on the couch that night, too mad to share the bed. It wasn’t the first time he’s done that but it had been awhile and he’d forgotten how uncomfortable the couch is. So the clouds hovered, remaining around Atsumu for the rest of his morning (which resulted in spilling coffee on his clean clothes and leaving without say goodbye to you,) for his entire practice (flubbing set after set and getting a lecture for it,) and for the walk home (where it rained buckets, soaking Atsumu.)

So as he came up to the apartment, Atsumu felt nothing but anger. And not even one where a joke from you or funny video of his dipshit of a brother tripping over his own feet (footage courtesy of Suna) could solve. Hell Atsumu figured if anyone even looked at him the wrong way he was going to fly off the handle.

A small part of his brain was telling him to get inside, take a long hot shower and try to calm down. Then he could see if he could try to make amends with you or decide that he needs to be alone and watch old volleyball tape for the night.

But when he walks into the apartment and sees you sweeping up glass from a fallen picture, his first thought isn’t wondering if you’re alright or not. It’s not even to tell you to be careful about walking around the glass.

It’s pure rage, because the feral monster that dwells within Atsumu sees that the picture frame that fell was an old photo from his high school volleyball days, capturing a chaotic group photo of Atsumu, Osamu, Suna and Kita.

“What the hell Y/N?”

He sees you jump, startled at the loud shout in the quiet apartment. “Atsumu, hey. Oh watch out, there’s -”

“Broken glass, yeah I can see that.” Atsumu dumps his volleyball bag by the door and stomps over, uncaring that his drenched shoes are leaving water marks across the floor. “What I was askin’ is what the hell are ya doin’ breakin’ my shit?”

He sees your eyes widen from where you’re crouching on the ground. You’re attempting to clear up the big shards of glass, and he spies a few pieces in your hand.

“What? What are you talking about?” You ask. “I was dusting and I accidentally knocked -”

“Great.” Atsumu snaps, cutting you off. “Really great, this is perfect.” Atsumu shakes his head, the anger fueling his actions. “We have one argument and you get all pissy and break my stuff.”

“Break your stuff?” You repeat incredulously. You stand up, still gently cradling the larger chunks of glass in your hand. “I didn’t mean to, I was just -”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure ya did!” The small voice in his head is screaming at him to abandon ship and calm the fuck down. But it’s way more satisfying for Atsumu to ignore it. Channeling his anger towards you is way more satisfying, and the most he thinks about it the easier he can justify his actions. “I can’t go to Hyogo, I can’t play volleyball the way I want, I can’t walk home without gettin’ soaked, and now I can’t even have photos of my friends up without ya throwin’ a fit!”

He watches as you take a step back, but it’s not clean as you stumble on your feet. As if in slow motion he watches you fumble to steady yourself, but the shards of glass fall from your hands. And on it’s descent one slips and cuts into your palm. You quickly jump back, as does Atsumu, avoiding the falling glass. Thankfully it doesn’t land on either of you, nor does it break on impact.

“Ouch!” You hiss, bringing your hand to your chest. But Atsumu can see the flash of red from the cut.

As if a bucket of water is dumped on Atsumu’s head, his anger evaporates, replaced with concern and echoing chants of fuck, fuck, fuck.

What has he done?

“Y/N,” he takes a step forward, careful not to step on the glass. “Are ya -”

As he moves forward to help you, you take a sudden step back, holding your arm close to your chest. The motion makes Atsumu halt, and as he takes in your face - shock and terrified - he feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter out quietly. “I’m going to take care of this.” You walk away, only pausing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Be careful of the glass.”

Atsumu watches you leave, feeling dread curl in his stomach. He looks around, taking in the broken glass and the one spot of blood on the floor.

I did this. He thinks, horrified at himself. He stands, rooted to the spot, feeling absolutely disgusted with himself. What is wrong with me?

The anger he felt before slowly creeps back in, not nearly as violent as it was and this time wholly directed on himself. You’re an absolute ass, Miya Atsumu.

He takes in the glass on the ground, and while he wants to rush to you and make sure you’re okay and grovel at your feet, he resolves on cleaning up the glass. He makes his way into the kitchen, grabbing the cleaning supplies and gloves from under the sink. It’s not until he turns and walks out does he see the take out bags on the counter. And not just any take out bags, but the ones from his favorite restaurant. The one that you’re not super jazzed about but they have the best fatty tuna for Atsumu.

It makes the guilt sitting in Atsumu’s stomach harden. Yes, it’s something as simple as ordering dinner from his favorite restaurant, but honestly Atsumu could see you handing him a tissue and it would mean the world to him. Every action you take and every decision you’ve made has always been keeping him and you in mind. You were the one to move so Atsumu could play volleyball. You uprooted your life, started a new job, left your family, to follow Atsumu and his dreams.

And what does Atsumu do? Whine and complain when he doesn’t get his way, which involves last minute plans that would uproot a weekend you had planned and had been looking forward to for weeks? And then he victimizes himself and yells at you for an accident, resulting in you hurting yourself?

I’m the worst, Atsumu thinks as he sweeps up the glass. When he gets to cleaning the single blood spot he nearly cries at how childish he is. When he safely deposits the glass in a box to be thrown out he laments at how unbelievably selfish he is. When he washes his hands and scans the area for any more glass, he wonders how someone as amazing as you chose to be with a monster like him.

He’s finished cleaning the living room, moving the photo to a shelf and completing one last scan, and you still haven’t emerged. Atsumu doesn’t wait and walks to the bathroom. He waits in the doorway, watching you clean up the wrappers and tissues you used.

You don’t look his way once, which Atsumu fully believes he deserves.

“‘M sorry.” He whispers. His voice sounds as broken as he feels. You still ignore him. “Y/N, baby I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” You ask without looking his way. You walk through the second door leading to the bedroom, and Atsumu follows obediently.

“‘M sorry for being a total jackass and accusin’ ya of ruinin’ my stuff, and ‘m sorry for projectin’ my anger onto ya, ‘m sorry for fightin’ with ya, ‘m sorry for bein’ a brat and tryin’ to change our plans, ‘m sorry -”

“Atsumu, Atsumu,” you move into his space, bringing your hands to his cheeks. You wipe away the tears that accumulated without his knowing. “It’s okay, and I’m okay. C’mere.”

You lead him down to the bed, bringing an arm around his shoulder. He sags into you, feeling more tears eek out of his eyes. “‘M sorry, Y/N. I’m really really sorry.”

You shush him, carding a hand through his hair. “It’s okay.” You pause. “Well, it’s not really okay. But thank you for apologizing.”

It’s quiet for a moment while you sit and hold Atsumu and he leans into you and praises whatever gods that are listening for your existence and your endless patience.

“We’ll talk about it more,” you say. “I’m still pretty upset, but I think I can get my parents to come next weekend. They can catch one of your games, and then you can go to Hyogo this weekend if you still want.”

Atsumu sits up, meeting your eyes. “No, they can come this weekend. And next weekend - they can come whenever they want and whenever ya want. It’s fine with me, whatever ya want Y/N, I’ll give it to ya.”

You give Atsumu a faint smile and shake your head. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Atsumu nods, and leans back into your embrace. It’s as warm as the sun, and Atsumu feels some of his clouds drift away.

END

September Scribbles Masterlist🧡

Taglist: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @ara-mitsue

[bokutoslittlebird]

The 13th Night

— featuring Kozume Kenma, Kuroo Tetsurō, Akaashi Keiji, and Bokuto Kōtarō

Summary: When a group of peers at school decide to go camping in the woods, you tag along. Things turn awry when your friend goes missing, then you end up finding you guys aren’t alone in the woods tonight.

Warnings: female genitalia, gender-neutral pronouns, murder, noncon, cannibalism [implied], weapons [knife, hatchet, axe], period sex, blood, necrophilia [implied], vomit [not sex related], stalking, blood as lube, f. oral receiving, Virgin!reader, ambiguous partner/rapist [it’s supposed to be Bokuto, but it could be Kuroo], threats of violence [death, rape, cannibalism]

Side characters introduced/mentioned: Sadako, Riku, Aiko, Brianna, Chris, Miku, Haruka

The clicking of pens echoed in the room as the fan blew on the professor's desk, the occasional scribble on papers as everyone worked on their tests. It was the final day before Spring Break, meaning your English professor would give you guys a test. This way, you wouldn't worry about one when you come back, but everyone's still anxious to get out of there, ready to start their 9 day vacation. You can't help but feel anxious for another reason.

Once you're done with the test, turning it in to the professor, you're allowed to leave. Walking through the halls, you look down at your phone to see a message from one of your peers. She's a nice girl, decent in class, but you've never really talked to her before, so it's nerve wracking working with her. The message is simple, a question about where to start working on the lab report. Sending a quick message back, you change course to go to her dorm room across the campus.

The class you were partnered up for is Anatomy, a class you're average in doing. You have to study, of course, but you're not getting straight A's like your friend. Speaking of your friend, you spot him walking from the science building towards the dormitories, so you call out to him.

"I didn't expect to see you!" Once you're caught up to him, you're both walking a leisurely pace towards the housing building. He just shrugs, but starts talking.

"My partner said that we could work on the report at her dorm, so I figured that was best. I didn't really want some strange girl in the boy's dormitory," Kenma's voice seems tired as he talks. "Sadako said her roommate also had to work on homework, so she wouldn't bother us,"

"Sadako? That name sounds familiar," you hum, putting your finger to your chin in thought. "Wait, I think that's my partner's roommate! Is her roommate's name Aiko by any chance?"

"I have no idea," he shrugs again, then looks at you. "Do you think I actually asked?" Shaking your head no, he smiles. "I thought you knew me better than that,"

"I thought you could be curious, sorry for asking a question," you giggle, opening the door as you've reached the building. Both dormitories are the same, except they have different rules. The girls' one has the rule that no boy can enter unless one of the residents have previously mentioned beforehand that they are expecting them. Thankfully, Kenma gets in without a problem.

"It's a shame they're so cautious," he mumbles, holding his arms close to his body. You pat his back a bit, but not too much.

"It's not really their fault. That poor girl ended up bringing in her boyfriend only to end up murdered overnight. If she had properly signed him in, we'd have caught him by now." You then roll your eyes, "stupid cheap cameras,"

"We don't even know if it was her boyfriend, either. Thanks to the cameras, of course," Kenma agreed with you. Almost two weeks ago began the onslaught of hyperactive suspicion and anxious students all across campus, a murder of a girl who supposedly invited her boyfriend in secretly after hours. Her roommates ended up finding her, face bashed in and her lower half missing. Such a gruesome imagery, only her roommates and some students know, since the forensics and anatomy classes turned it into a lesson. The cameras had blinked out, only showing a hooded figure entering the building following the girl, then the same shadowy, hooded figure leaving. Tall build, probably an athlete, but the texture on the footage is so grainy that that's all the information retrieved.

Once the elevator got to the right floor, you both exit it and walk down towards your respective rooms. "Which one are you going to? I got 315,"

"Huh, me too. I guess they are roommates," he pockets his phone after he checks the number, stopping in front of the door. Of course, his eyes briefly glance next to him, at the door beside you two. Looking towards it, a chill creeps up your spine as you read the number. 313, the room the girl was found in. Of course, it wasn't occupied anymore, but it also wasn't locked.

"Hey, hey! You're here!" a girl shouts, giggling as Kenma practically scrunches back. With long black hair framing her face, you can only assume it's Sadako. Behind her, a brunette is briefly seen but a tan hands waves at you over the head. "Guess you're both here on time,"

"Yeah, didn't know we'd end up meeting on the way here," Kenma mumbles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You do feel bad for him, forced to work with a stranger who is his opposite in every way.

"Welcome, welcome, make yourself comfortable. Want anything? Some juice, water, I got beer!" Sadako offers, looking at you. Shaking your head, you decline and move to sit on the loveseat. Kenma almost immediately sits next to you, close the wall. Aiko sits across from the two of you while Sadako makes herself a drink.

"I'm guessing you two are pretty close," Aiko mentions, hoping to break some ice. You smile and nod, leaning a bit into Kenma as you begin to talk.

"Yeah, we met each other in high school, so we're pretty close. We had another friend, but he ended up moving before graduation so we don't keep in touch with him,"

"Aw, that's a bit sad. But at least you two have each other!"

"Yeah, I don't know where he'd be if it wasn't for me," you giggle and raise your arm to protect a weak swat from Kenma. Not the most athletically inclined, so he's no threat.

"I'd make it through somehow," he mumbles, eyes flicking to Aiko before going back down to his lap. She just smiles, not bothered by his shyness. Before she can say anything else, though, a thump is heard from the hallway. Looking towards the door, you and Kenma stay put as Sadako opens it, checking outside.

"Hey, what are two doing?!" She shouts, then two people are dragged into the room. "You two need to be quiet!" She lowers her voice, shutting the door and locking it. Two boys stand in the room, uncovering their heads. One is another classmate of yours, sharing the same English class as you, while the other is unfamiliar. Sadako seems to know both of them though, turning to the rest of you. "This is Riku and Chris," she introduces them. Riku is the unfamiliar one, his bleached hair slicked back as he gives off a peace sign. Chris is a classmate of yours, who smiles and waves at you when he sees you, moving closer. Kenma seems to not know either one, hand sliding around your arm.

"Sadako, what is this? We have work to do, we don't need your boyfriend over here," Aiko says, bringing her into the kitchen. Riku takes her spot, sitting across from the two of you while Chris leans against the wall next to you.

As they whisper in the kitchen, he strikes up a conversation with you. "I didn't know you knew Sadako. You seem like someone who keeps to themselves,"

"Well, her roommate is my partner. So I don't know her, actually," you give off a shaky smile, finding his presence a bit overbearing.

"Oh, so you're not here for the rumors?" Before you can ask anything, Kenma slides his hand with yours, turning your attention to him as you miss a glare from Chris.

"I don't feel comfortable here. Can we leave?" he asks, making you immediately nod. Kenma's never been one for crowds, often feeling overwhelmed when there are too many unknown people in a small space. Aiko and Sadako are fine, but the addition of Riku and Chris are probably making him feel crowded.

"Alright, let's get some fast food on the way home," you smile at him, getting him to give a shaky smile. Getting up, you don't even get to say anything to Aiko or Sadako before they're talking first.

"Please don't leave, I didn't know they'd be over. We can go in my room and work," Aiko suggests. You shake your head, already deciding to leave.

"Wait, they're here for a reason!" Sadako holds up her hands, preventing you from leaving. Hand still clad in Kenma's, you stop and let her talk. "We were going to investigate the murders,"

"No, that's dangerous and stupid. It's curfew and people are asleep," you say, knowing it's well away from curfew, about an hour. You're not going to enter the murder scene next door and you're not going to go searching the grounds for other murder scenes.

"Murders? As in more than one?" Kenma asks, somewhat interested. Apparently, he wasn't aware of more than the one. Sadako smiles, nodding as she gets into the spiel.

"So, we know about Brianna's death, the girl next door? Well, apparently two other girls were found brutally murdered across campus. To not cause a panic, the school decided spring break is the week they're gonna conduct investigations, so we're gonna start before them. It seems that each girl died to a man, hooded and tall who seems like he came with a purpose. Shitty camera footage isn't great, but I heard that an outside camera caught what looked like a man with dark hair leaving, heading towards a red truck after Miku’s supposed time of death. Not only that, but he had a bag with him, like he had something,"

The long winded explanation ended with you and Kenma back on the loveseat, Sadako on the other loveseat beside Riku. Chris is still leaning on the wall near you, while Aiko is sitting on a stool where the bar is. Kenma sighs, finding himself listening to the story and the reasoning behind Sadako's adventure. Of course, it was just a recall of the recent murders across campus.

The police were more vigilant, constantly checking and searching for any possible suspects. Brianna was the first girl, while the second girl was named Miku, the third girl named Haruka. Each girl died with their face bashed in, their body from the stomach down missing, including their organs, with the forensic team finding no evidence of their murderer. Each girl died and nobody knew who did it, leaving each case open and the longer it stays open, the colder the case gets.

"That was.. a lot," you finally said, breaking the silence. Riku, Sadako and Chris seemed like the only ones interested in going, while Aiko hesitant, but somewhat willing. Kenma, on the other hand, was not even toying with the idea.

"This is stupid. If someone is hunting down these girls, what makes you think it's a good idea to go looking for them? You wanna end up like them?"

"Oh please, it'll be fine. Plus," Sadako pulls out her notebook, full of a calendar she made herself, with a red circle around three days, circling a fourth day in a sharpie she has clipped to the book. "These are the days the girls were killed. Now, the first day was a bit of a random one, but after that one, a murder happened four days after. That means-!" She points the sharpie to Kenma, who takes a moment to answer.

"A murder will happen to tomorrow? The first Saturday of spring break?" he asks, getting her to nod. She's excited, practically bouncing in her seat. "So your logic is we're safe if we leave now and search, getting back to safety before midnight,"

"Well, pretty much," Riku pipes up, leaning back on the cushions. "You don't have to come, but it'd be interesting if we do end up finding something,"

“Well, if Kenma isn’t going then neither am I. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable with everyone and without Kenma,” your words get Kenma smiling, leaning a bit into you. “I think we’re going to sit this one out,”

A scoff is heard beside you, one that has Kenma moving up to glare at Chris, who rolls his eyes. “Is there a problem with being cautious, uh, Crust, was it?”

“It’s Chris, actually. Didn’t know your brain was as small as your body,” at his words, even you got rigid and glared at him. “I just didn’t think you’d be such a pussy. It’s just a little outdoors adventure, can’t handle it?”

“Chris, shut up,” you seethed, but he had hit a nerve of Kenma’s. “Kenma, don’t let him—”

“No, I’ll go. I can handle myself,” he cuts you off, standing up to glare at Chris without an obstacle. “I’ll also make sure you keep your filthy hands off my friend,”

“Kenma,” you whisper, but it’s lost as Chris speaks up again.

"Nobody's gonna hurt her," Chris narrows his eyes. "You think we're bad people?"

“Well, if Kenma’s going then I will, too,” you finally say, standing up next to Kenma. Facing him and cutting off his line of sight from Chris, you put your hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye. “If you want to leave, just let me know. There’s no reason to force yourself just because Chris is an ass, okay?”

“I know, trust me,” he gives off a soft smile, getting you to smile right back. But such a sweet moment has to be shattered by the spectating party.

"Hey, no fighting! Let's all get ready to go if we're all gonna go looking for clues," Sadako claps her hands, getting everyone's attention. With a heavy sigh, you end up getting up to help them get ready. A bad feeling overcomes you, but seeing Kenma look down at his phone, smiling as a sign he’s feeling better, makes you feel better as well.

It’s only an hour before the entire group is moving out, sneaking their way towards the back exit. It doesn’t have an alarm anymore since it broke almost two months ago, but it does automatically lock once outside. To solve this, Sadako puts a thin wedge of wood between the door locks. This way, it’s hard enough to not activate the lock system and all you have to do to get in is pull the handle. Once secured, everyone’s off.

The destination is a small clearing in the woods, where the trees are a bit less dense and there’s already a pit where a campfire has burned. “Seems like a popular hangout spot,” Aiko mentions, kicking a burnt log. Despite the burnt area surrounded by large rocks, a decent clearing for tents and sleeping bags, and the leftover logs, it's completely clear. "Doesn't seem like anybody left behind trash or valuables,"

"Nobody would leave behind valuables," Kenma scoffs, pulling out his phone. "One bar, guess we won't be calling anyone if we're attacked,

"Oh shush, nobody's getting attacked," Sadako playfully slaps his arm, which has him rubbing it after, but she does take a scan around the area. "Odd there's no trash, though, since mostly teens would visit here. Guess they're cleaner than I thought,"

"Not all teenagers are sloppy adventurers," he mumbles, then rolls his eyes as Chris proceeds to drop an empty candy bar on the ground. "Unlike some in this group,"

"Hey, watch your mouth, little man," he sneers, narrowing his eyes. Deciding to ease the tension, you decide to get Sadako's attention.

"Should we get some firewood? For a fire?"

"Yeah, since we need to make a game plan before doing anything. A bit of a fire, some food, and then we'll head out," she agrees, then looks to Kenma and Chris. "How about you two do some bonding and go get the wood?"

"I'll go with Kenma, if you don't mind," you interject, wrapping your hand around Kenma's wrist. "Just to make sure he's okay,"

"Sure, I don't mind," she shrugs, turning back to the others. Chris scoffs once more, making you and Kenma both roll your eyes. Heading into the dense woods was scary, but you made sure to keep Kenma close by as you guys looked for firewood.

"You didn't have to come with me," he suddenly said, breaking the silence. "I can, believe it or not, take care of myself,"

"I know, but I don't want to be stuck with anyone from that group. Especially that Chris guy, jeez," you then notice a nearby pile of good firewood. "Oh, guess some other people pre-stack logs for easy camping. Wanna use them?"

"Go ahead and take them back. I'll try and get a few more," he waves you off, making you pout.

"But—"

"No buts. I don't want them thinking you're doing everything for me. Plus, I'll be fine getting two more logs." You don't want to admit it, but he's right. You don't need to protect Kenma from everything.

"Fine. But if you need me, scream," you joke, taking the logs and leaving. Kenma just watches you leave, then turns his flashlight to the pile of logs you found, but left behind.

At the campsite, you find yourself rolling your eyes as you see Sadako curled up in Riku's lap, his hand gripping her thigh tightly. Chris is also back, scrolling through his phone and showing pictures to Aiko, who looks bored. Bored enough to jump up in excitement when she sees you with more logs. "Yay, more logs! We were just thinking we'd head out to search for clues once you guys got back. Where's Kenma?"

"Oh, he wanted to get more firewood. He should be back any-" your sentence is cut short as a scream pierces the night. The logs and twigs immediately fall from your arms as you turn to go back into the woods, only stopped by Aiko. "That was Kenma!"

"He's probably fine, he just saw something creepy like a bug!" she manages to get herself in front of you as you try to weave around her. "Calm down! He'll probably come out of the woods in a minute,"

"What if he doesn't?" You ask, eyes wide. "This was a mistake, I'm getting Kenma and going home,"

"Hey, why don't I help? He probably just saw some bug like Aiko said," Chris offered. Not wanting to deal with anyone longer than you needed to, you nod. "It'll be fine, I promise,"

"Just- Let's just find him so I can get out of here," you say, stalking off towards the woods. Aiko and Chris look to each other, then follow behind. With the three of you in the woods, Riku and Sadako are left alone.

"Damn, they're that worried?" He asks, leaning his head on her chest, placing a kiss on her skin. Her shirt is practically off her body, already unbuttoned the top half that leaves her chest exposed. She giggles as he kisses her, tickling her skin with his bangs.

"Some people aren't high like you, handsome. Although, now that they're gone, we have the camp to ourselves," she leans into him, giving him a kiss as his hands move to finish taking off her shirt. Using it to protect her back, he lays her down on the ground and goes to discard her pants, kissing her all the while. Her jeans are easily slid off, along with her panties, dropped to the side while they continue with their moment of solitude.

Well, supposed solitude. In the woods, close by where the trio entered them, stands a tall man in a hoodie, blending into the shadows. The campfire is dim, only giving enough light to illuminate the immediate surroundings, so he's able to sneak up behind the lovers without the light touching him once. With a sharp and swift swing, he's lodged his axe in the guy's head and neck, blood pooling from the wound.

"Riku, you okay?" Sadako asks, watching her boyfriend's head go limp, as his eyes go dark. Thinking he's passed out, she shakes him and his head lolls over, showing the bloody wound that is currently dripping on her naked body. When she comprehends that it's blood, it's too late as she looks up to see a man standing over her with an axe.

When you hear screaming from the camp, you and Aiko look to each other and look to see Chris relatively close. "Did Sadako just scream?" he asks, a whisper. Immediately, everyone goes on edge. Kenma's scream is one thing, but Sadako's? Something is very wrong, now that Aiko and Chris are also on edge. Turning to go back to the camp, you and Aiko turn off the flashlights as Chris follows suit, moving to the edge of the woods to see a man at the camp. Aiko covers her mouth in horror when she sees him, but she's then using it to cover her own scream of terror when she watches a limp body be picked off the ground.

Her scream alerted the man, who promptly drops the body and looks in the direction of Aiko. "Run," you harshly whisper, turning and bolting. They don't need to be told twice, crunching leaves and twigs under their feet as they follow your lead.

A sigh, then the man pulls out his phone, dialing a number. In a second, someone picks up. "They're heading towards the house," is all he says, rummaging through a bag nearby.

"That's the plan, Akaashi. Get them here, easy picking. His plans never go wrong, you know," the man on the other side of the phone says. "Anything interesting?"

"Yep. We know who's not on the menu tonight," he responds, turning on a phone. "Kuroo, you might recognize them,"

"Oh?" Is the last thing he says before Akaashi hangs up, deciding to let him figure it out himself. Indeed, plans never go wrong in moments like these, Akaashi thinks, making sure everything is in the bag before picking it up and put in the truck. Doesn't want any blood on it, after all.

Unaware of what's waiting for you three, you continue to lead Chris and Aiko into the woods, flashlights briefly illuminating a path as you’re all running between trees and jumping over fallen trunks. “God, where are we going?” Chris asks, shining his flashlight all around. “Shouldn’t we try to call someone?”

“Do you have any bars?” Aiko asks, and only then do you realize your phone is back at the campsite. However, it seems like so is Chris’, when he runs his hands through his pockets and curses. “I only have one bar, I’ve had it all night,” she says, shaky hands fumbling with her phone as she attempts to make a call. With her screen lighting up her face, you can see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Look, maybe we should find a hot spot. Some place where you can get at least two bars, alright? Should be able to make a call to the campus or police, let them know where we went, where we are, and we’re being chased,” he points his flashlight in front of him. “For now, we should continue,”

“Chased? We’re not being chased,” you mention, getting both of them to look at you funny. “There’s.. nothing here.” At your words, they both go still as their eyes widen in realization. Not even an owl hoots to alert you of its presence, the woods being completely dead to anything, but most importantly, there’s no footsteps when you’re still. “What if he wanted us to run?” You feel your heart drop when you think about it. “What if I fell into his trap?”

“We had no other option,” Aiko gently says, moving closer to you. Despite her shakiness in her movement and voice, she still tries to comfort you. “It was run or fight, you made the right option. We couldn’t fight someone who killed two of our friends,”

“I don’t think someone with enough brawn to carry a dead body can think that smartly, either,” Chris adds on. “Unless he’s not working alone, but I think we can safely assume he isn’t. After all, nobody else was caught on camera,”

“It feels wrong,” you mutter, feeling your eyes burn as your vision briefly blurs. Wiping your eyes, you shake your head. “We need to keep moving, regardless. We can’t stay here like sitting ducks,”

“Good idea. Best I’ve heard all day,” Chris waves his flashlight around in a sarcastic way. Even in a situation like this, he pisses you off. Ignoring him, you move on, the three of you no longer running as you focus on anything that may seem odd or strange.

A few minutes of walking in silence brings you to a house in the middle of nowhere. With the greenery growing on the sides and the dirt coating the floorboards you can see, you think it’s abandoned. No lights, plus the front door’s window is broken, so you three only hesitate for a moment before getting closer to the house.

“Wait,” Aiko breaks the silence, small steps further away from the porch. “Why’s a house in the middle of nowhere?”

“Probably the murderer’s house. We should be able to find a phone,” Chris offhandedly mentions, as if it isn’t at all dangerous. “The guy has to lug two dead bodies here in a truck, but there’s no truck, is there?” He asks Aiko, who glares at him when he treats her like she’s stupid. “If he doesn’t have a phone, we go back to running through the woods in the dark,”

Chris goes into the house, completely unbothered by the unlocked door and the bell that alerts of his presence. You hold the door open and seat at the smell that emerges from the open door. Despite the rotting welcome, you turn and wave in Aiko, who hesitantly enters the place. “Don’t worry, I won’t his annoying personality get to you. If anything happens, I’ll try to protect you,” you give her a warm smile, but she just rolls her eyes and shrugs it off.

“Like you protected Kenma? We wouldn’t be in this mess if you were a decent friend,” she scoffs, speeding up her pace as you stop, standing in that position for a moment. Although you know she’s just lashing out due to fear, you can’t help but wonder if this is all your fault.

What breaks you out of your mindset has goosebumps running over your arms as your blood turns cold. Glancing towards the sound of a blade on a wall, your eyes meet golden ones, hidden in the dark and only briefly illuminated. The moving of the knife doesn’t stop, and for a moment you think it’s Kenma, your foot turning to move towards the noise and the eyes, but the trance ends when Aiko quickly grabs your wrist.

“What the hell are you doing? That creep is back!” She harshly whispers, pulling you further into the house. Taking a look back, the eyes and knife are gone, so you wonder if it was your imagination or reality. You do, however, catch a glimpse of a light through the open door.

“Look, this freezer is empty, hide in there,” Chris practically demands, then moves to hide in a nearby cabinet, barely wedging himself inside and shutting the door when heavy footsteps enter the house.

“Only two? I expected better of you, Akaashi,” a voice says, then a loud thump is heard. Aiko covers her mouth as her eyes close, shaking like a leaf. You’re no better, waiting for three bodies to thump on the table. Instead of hearing the third one added, you think that maybe Kenma is still safe.

“It was a bit messy, but Kenma’s plans never go wrong, do they?” Your stomach drops when you hear Kenma’s name roll off of ‘Akaashi’s’ tongue. You have to force yourself to not puke when your fears are confirmed, just not the one you expected.

“Of course not. I know what I’m doing. Also a pile of neatly stacked logs? Had [Y/N] not pointed them out, I would’ve missed the message completely,” Kenma scoffs. “Kuro?”

“What was I supposed to do? Bokuto’s idea was leave a weapon to find,” the first voice, ‘Kuro’, says.

“Hey, at least my idea would’ve been more noticeable!” A new voice, ‘Bokuto’, shoots back.

“And if someone else besides Kenma found them? Hmm?”

“Alright, can you two save the argument for later. Let’s get these two to the basement so we can chop them up,” Akaashi says, then a thump is heard, but not in the direction of the four men. Instead, Chris has bumped something, but it goes ignored as the footsteps recede, including Kenma’s.

You and Aiko don’t dare move, instead the lid of the freezer opens and you both see Chris, pale as he looks like he’s seen a ghost. “We need to go, now.” Not needing to be told twice, you and Aiko get out of the freezer as Chris quietly closes it. Then, he turns to you. “Did you know?”

“No, obviously not!” You harshly whisper. “I’ve been worried sick about Kenma since we separated, why would I be in on a plan to murder?”

“You did bring us here..” Aiko mentions, which has you looking at her in disgust. “I’m just saying,”

“Okay, look, regardless, let’s get out of here. We’ll tell the police all our information,” Chris says, being responsible for once. However, it’s the last moment in his life before he collapses on the ground before you. Moving back, you and Aiko notice a small hatchet lodged in the back of his head. Her scream is deafening when she realizes he’s dead, but the silent stare Kenma gives you is just as bad.

“I’ve been waiting for that all night,” is all he says, before the other three men come out of a nearby hallway, grinning as they look at the two of you. No words are needed as you both bolt, running towards the door. Although three of them give chase, they only walk into the hallway as you and Aiko realize they’ve jimmied the door shut. Forced to hide, you run up the stairs with her hot on your heels as you find the first room you see and she continues to another one.

You try to lock the door, but find that there is no locking mechanism on it. Rolling your eyes, because of course they wouldn’t have that, you see a nearby dresser and manage to slide it across the floor and right before the door. Forcing yourself to move faster, you manage to have it halfway in front of the door, at least where the opening is, so you stop pushing it and look around the room you chose, regretting it.

The room is generally clean for the most part, no dirty clothes or moldy food, but the elephant in the room is the decaying corpse on the bed. Finding a nearby trash can, you immediately hurl into it, only to find yourself hurling on the floor once you smell what’s in the trash can. Apparently, this is the room where the rotting smell was coming from.

Wiping the vomit from your mouth, you can only spit up the extra stomach acid as you look around the room for a way to escape. You hear heavy footsteps outside the door, but they continue on, getting you to sigh in relief. Covering your nose as you walk to the other side of the bed, you stop in your tracks as you see the multiple bear traps in front of the window.

Despite everything that’s happened, only now do you let the tears run freely down your cheeks. Nobody would be in this position if you hadn’t come at all, or left Kenma behind. Chris wouldn’t be dead if you hadn’t run, and Sadako would be alive if you didn’t go looking for Kenma. Wiping away the tears, you manage to stomach another wave of nausea as you find a picture with the four men on it, smiling brightly in front of the house. Ignoring the body, you sit on the bed and look a bit closer, finding they look so.. normal. Even Kenma, who you know almost everything about, has that look of disgust with crowding, with two of the guys smiling and hugging him. The fourth guy, Akaashi, is nearby, smiling gently, but not crowding Kenma.

Rubbing your thumb over the image, you’re so lost in your thoughts to notice the movement of the dresser and opening of the door. Even when the man clears his throat, you’re stuck in your own world. Only when you hear Aiko’s scream of terror do you look up, immediately dropping the picture and attempting to move back. That path is obstructed by a decaying body, but the man only bends down to pick up the picture. Then he looks at you, his eyes glinting the same way the pair did downstairs. “You must be Kenma’s friend?”

Oh great, you think, expecting some horrible death. “I— yes, that’s me,” your voice is slightly shaky, but surprisingly stable in the situation. “Are you going to kill me?”

He laughs at your question, standing back to his full height. As threatening as his presence is, the knife in his hand scares you more, dripping with fresh blood. “I can be persuaded, actually. I’m a reasonable man — give me a reason to let you live,” he grins, something dark and sinister. With wide eyes, you move your face away from his, but don’t answer him. “I can also be quite a monster when I’m left hanging. All my little prizes die before the main course,”

His words have a new fear inside of you, the dead body caked in blood that emphasizes his point. You’re a smart cookie, understanding what he means and what the consequences will be if you don’t comply. This is your fault in the first place, you should just accept what comes your way. You manage to give a small nod, turning away from him as to not see his reaction. However, when he pushes you down on the bed, you panic.

“I’m gonna regret killing you if you don’t stop squirming,” he sneers, pressing you down on the bed all the way. Sandwiched between his hard body and the dead body, you force back the urge to vomit again as you feel his hands dipping in the waistline of your pants.

“It’s just— it’s a dead body,” you squeak out, but he just laughs at your concerns. His laugh is cut off by noise of surprise when his hand dips between your legs, warm liquid coating them. Removing the pressure on you, he ends up ripping off the pants, feeling the area where your crotch is. You’re confused, then notice his hands are covered with fresh blood.

“Two treats in one,” he licks his lips, bringing his fingers to his mouth as he licks the red liquid off. Using his hands to spread your legs, moves his face right against your clothed pussy, running his tongue over the stained fabric of your panties.

You just cover your face with your arms, in disbelief you started your period without even noticing it. He doesn’t seem to mind, sucking on the panties before sliding them off and down your legs, letting them drop as he puts his lips against your folds. His grip on your thighs is strong, preventing you from closing them as he spreads your folds with his tongue, lapping at your pussy and the blood coating it. You’re ashamed to admit it, but your toes curl at the feeling of his tongue running over your sensitive clit, only to then suck on it. Only when your arms move off your face to grasp something does the pleasure high run dry, remembering the body underneath you.

He hums against your pussy, sending vibrations up your spine, rubbing his tongue against every inch of skin he can reach. Another harsh suck on your clit, then he’s diving his tongue inside your cunt to slurp up any of your arousal and blood. An arching of the back has your nails digging into the bedding below you, only to then move to his hair as he sucks on your clit again. Moving back down to your cunt, you’re granted a second of rest before your entire body tightens, a mewl ripped from our throat as he completely devours your pussy, taking you over the edge as blood and cum covers his face.

Removing himself from between your legs, he swipes away the blood from his face and licks off his hand. Then he pushes his fingers in your mouth, making you gag, forcing you to taste your blood and cum on his fingers. “You bite me, I bite you,” he warns, but it’s an empty threat. You don’t even think about biting on his fingers, knowing the position you’re in isn’t one to fight. “Blood is the best lube, you know?” He suddenly mentions. Your confusion is short when he pushes his cock inside of you, making your head get thrown back as his fingers leave your mouth. “Nice and slippery,”

“..hurts,” you mumble, a look of pain on your face as he forces himself all the way in. He doesn’t even give your virgin body time to adjust, simply keeping you pressed against the bed and the body as he keeps your legs spread with his hands. Pleas and begs of slowing down or waiting are met with sharp, harsh thrusts that have you seeing stars.

“Squeezing me so nicely. Such a good little fuck,” he grunts, then presses his lips to yours as your nails dig into his shoulders, cringing in disgust as you can still taste the blood on his tongue. You can feel another orgasm rising quickly, as well as finding yourself enjoying the feeling of his rubbing against your wet walls and the squelching sounds your pussy makes. The bloody mess is something you didn’t think you’d enjoy, but the pleasure is more than your hands or a silicone dildo could ever give you.

His brutal thrusts are practically bruising your hips, his grip tight as it digs in until it’s uncomfortable. The high you’re on is so far up the pain is easily replaced by pleasure, your eyes rolling as moans freely spill from your lips, only muffled by his own mouth against yours. Rubbing his tongue against yours and over your lips, he adds in extra spice as he rubs on your bottom lip, never biting down hard enough to be threatening. When the urge to tip over the edge overcomes you once more, all you can do is grip tight onto him as your whole body seizes up.

He’s right behind you, a few more thrusts until he’s pushing himself deep inside of you, meshing his lips to yours once more as he fills you up. The warm hot cum completely coats your insides, spurting out from where the two of you are connected. Pulling out, you manage to make out the pink ooze pouring onto the bed, sliding off and over the edge.

While you’re busy watching your first creampie spill from your abused pussy, the man rummages around his drawers, pulling open the bottom one and pulling out a box and a pair of pants. Your surprise has you completely frozen and stunned as he opens the box and pulls out some clean towels, sopping up the mix of cum and blood. Then he uses a few paper towels and toilet paper to pat you dry before taking out a tampon. “I can do it myself, thank you!”

Your shouting seems to startle him, making him give a small laugh, handing the tampon to you. Easily opening it, you’re hesitant to put it in as he is still kneeling in front of your genitals. Deciding to hell with privacy, you push it inside of you and then pull out the bloody plastic. Expecting him to lick it clean, like a lunatic, he instead discards it in the trash bin, adding the other dirty items. When he hands you the pants, you look at him in confusion. “Do you want some boxers? Underwear?”

“Is this clean? Why are you doing this?” You ask, like any sane person would. He laughs at you once more, making you even more confused. “Aren’t you going to kill me?”

“Kill you? Not any time soon, unless I want Kenma to kill me. Of course it’s clean, I always keep it in case some poor soul ends up living after I’m done with them. I don’t want you bleeding all over the house,” he then scratches his neck, the smile gone from his face as he looks to the side. “I think Akaashi would kill us both,”

“I— what?”

“Hurry up and get dressed. Here,” he opens the top drawer, taking out a pair of black boxers. “Put them on and let’s go downstairs.”

You are glad he stays, since your mobility is limited and he has to slide on the pants and boxers, being so gentle compared to his rough treatment. Although his mannerism is still a bit rough, slugging you over his shoulder, he does carry you out of the room and down the stairs, back into the kitchen, then into the dining room.

Where everyone else is.

You’re set down on the table, surprised when Kenma is immediately hugging you, tense dropping from his shoulders. “You’re okay. You’re still alive,” he whispers, hugging you even tighter. His grip is strong, making you wonder how you manage to completely ignore it.

“You thought I’d kill her? I know better than that,” the man who brought you down says. “I’m not a horrible person.. completely,”

“Can you blame Kenma? You can be a bit of a wild case,” Akaashi says, then turns to Kenma. “Want me to check them over?”

“I don’t— why are your pants different?”

You give a soft, awkward laugh. “Period problems. Too busy scared for my life, didn’t know I was bleeding,”

“Completely clean and taken care of, too,”

“I’ll deal with you later,” Kenma grumbles towards your would-be murderer. Kenma then turns back to you. “So, this meant to be an initiation, if I’m being honest. That’s Akaashi,” he points to the man beside him, who gives off a small smile. “Bokuto,” the man with spiky hair and a wide grin. “Kuroo, but I call him Kuro,” the spiky black haired man, who gives off a cat-like grin as he waves.

“Initiation?” You ask. Kenma nods.

“I wanted you to be a part of all my life, including the scary part. I also expected to take your virginity, but I see someone got impatient,” he glares at the assailant. “That’s okay. You can’t leave me, so I’ll have my chance sooner or later,” his words hold a dark tone, one that reminds you of your place. You’ve been hunted down all night and then raped by a stranger, who’s to say the other men in the room wouldn’t do the same?

Kenma’s a different person now, his eyes dark that has goosebumps popping up on your skin. The one who breaks the silence is Akaashi. “Sun’s coming up. We should take you two back,”

“Back?”

“We’re not keeping you,” Kuroo says, putting an arm around Kenma. “You live in the city, and so does Kenma. The only people living in the woods is us,” he then turns to Bokuto. “Courtesy of this freak show who’s got a bounty on his head,”

“Hey, that’s not what it is,” Bokuto points his finger at Kuroo, then pouts. “It’s a watchlist, not a bounty list. Plus, it’s not even around this area,”

“Either way, Bokuto, you’ll be staying here while we drop them off,” Akaashi points to the window, where light is peeking through. “It’s time to go,”

“Why me, though?”

“Lots of brawn, good for chopping through bone,” Kuroo laughs as Bokuto looks offended, but you can only cover your mouth as the implications hit you. The bodies that were found were supposed to be found. Everyone who died overnight will be listed as missing, but never to be found.

Getting in the truck, you’re handed your bag from the campsite and look at Kuroo in confusion. “Kenma told us to get it,” is al he says. Kenma hops in the back with you, while Kuroo rides passenger and Akaashi drives. The ride is mostly silent, until you break it by asking what happens next. “You live life like normal, obviously. You’re smart, you know everything tonight was orchestrated according to Kenma’s plan. He brings us victims, we dispose of them, and he has a story and an alibi set up. Both of you were working on projects after your partners ditched. Stick with Kenma, nothing goes wrong,”

“Unless you get cold feet. In that case,” Akaashi looks at you through the rear view mirror, a dead look that has your skin crawling. “You’ll also be disposed of appropriately. I have high hopes for you, as does everyone else, but I’m the most wary of your loyalty. Do not disappoint me,”

“Akaashi’s a nice guy, he’s just a bit into psychological torture,” Kuroo writes him off, but the fear has worked. Kenma tries to console you, but his touch no longer has the same effect as it did 5 hours ago.

The wedge is still in the back door, which helps the alibi, since the kids can sneak off easily. The path to get back to your house and the hiking path is the same way, so it’s also easy to just use that excuse, and your parents were gone for the night, starting their vacation on a cruise the previous morning. Once you’re dropped off, the two wave goodbye and drive off, leaving you and Kenma alone as you set down your bag and plug up your phone, pushing the battery back into place as well.

Kenma is busy doing the same when you ask him a question. “How do I deal with this?” He looks at you for a further explanation. “You.. kill people. You eat them. I— what therapy can help with this?” You want to continue, but the thought brings tears to your eyes. Your body was defiled on top of a dead body, for goodness sake, you want to scream. Kenma even mentioned he’d be willing to go just as far as his friend.

“If you have problems, you can come to me or Akaashi, but nobody else,” he warns, but his touch on your hand is gentle. “Don’t worry. It will take time and I’ll be there. We don’t need to trick any new victims anytime soon, so we’ll be fine. You’ll learn to accept and enjoy this lifestyle, just as I had,”

Instead of asking for an elaboration, you just nod. He presses a kiss to your cheek, gentle and loving, before getting off your bed and telling you he’ll make you some of your favorite food so you can shower. Feeling the caked vomit, blood, and tears on your body, you agree, feeling your body weak and exhausted from the night. You only hope you can sleep after everything.

Spoiler: you can’t.

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON POIZN’S MAIN DANCE CHOI  DAEHYUN...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 25 DEBUT AGE: 18 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: 99 SECONDARY SKILL: Modeling (cf)

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): 맥주프린스 (beer prince, as a result of his success and wide popularity in his beer cfs) 땡규 (ddaengkyu, a play on the first part of his name and konglish ‘thank you’) INSPIRATION: a huge POWer fan, he really liked some of the members’ sense of humor and casualness as well as charisma when they danced on music shows while he was growing up.  SPECIAL TALENTS:

undefeated arm wrestling champion among his friends

can chug any beverage the fastest

ambidextrous

NOTABLE FACTS:

attended international school in switzerland and korea

has been said as having a “natural talent” for holding his liquor well

fans have tried digging into his family life and have found very little information

notably always well dressed

is that member fans always ask for when another member is having a vlive solo stream

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

ideally, daehyun would like to see his model career really get going - he has established himself enough, he believes, in the entertainment industry enough that the transition between being his group’s dancer and pursuing his modeling ambitions wouldn’t be too abrasive. while he has become noted as a skilled dancer, daehyun doesn’t have the creativity to construct much choreography for his group and prefers to leave that to his company’s in house creators.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

daehyun lives a life of fleeting interests and caters his lifestyle to whatever is most convenient for him. following poizn’s first music show win and the group’s immense surge following love scenario, if all continues to go well, he doesn’t see a reason for ever leaving his group - it keeps him in the spotlight, gets him modeling gigs, and, of course, he loves the fame

IDOL IMAGE

off the bat, daehyun is visually marketable. he is charming, effortlessly so. his youthful and typical boy-next-door looks are everything that sells in the entertainment industry that makes him an absolute knockout when it comes to gaining fans or even being recognized by the general public who don’t necessarily follow his group. the company takes what daehyun already has from his life as a rich boy and perfects it to the very most that they can; they smooth out the blemishes of his dance skills that, compared to others would need further improvements - and paint over it with his face, his body, everything that a girl would want in her “ideal boyfriend”. daehyun is marketed as the boy at school who is just too popular that every girl feels she could never confess to. he’s too cool, too out of her league, but he’s just so dreamy that they can’t help falling all over him.

as a dancer, the company uses his charm and natural confidence to their advantage. he’s a cash cow, both himself and the company know, but it works.

daehyun doesn’t even need to try with his image: he’s born with it, literally; the wealth and beauty and everything that comes as an advantage in between. as he matures from the pristine prince-like member during poizn’s early days to the grown, young man who is inevitably nearing his military days, daehyun transforms into a more refined version of the typical rich boy become famous who is still somehow adored following his bouts of cockiness, heir of superiority inflated, tony stark-esque ego. but daehyun wakes up with the same face every day, same smile he gives to all those who don’t know him at his core, and every day, convinces another new face to fall for his charms just like he convinces them that everyone else already has, too.

IDOL HISTORY

tw: minor domestic violence

everything is thanks to a silver spoon. his father hopes he chokes on it.

they are never a concise or nuclear family. daehyun is brought up in a class of wealth, power and corruption that leaks into the cracks between the love his family members think they give; none of it is true. he never learns what humanity is because he’s never seen it with his own eyes. compassion could bite him in the ass and he’d still have the nerve to blame it on the world for letting it happen.

he doesn’t remember his father’s marriage with his birth mother, but one of his earliest memories is of the time his father threw a plate to the wall at dinner when he was just barely large enough to see over the dinner table. his first step mother, he knew, was equally as angry as his father, and that’s why they were made for each other. but she was also a cheater and a liar, just like his father as well, and their time together felt like only a blip in daehyun’s memory.

his third mother was a socialite, a drinker; in retrospect, she was the most like daehyun — brought up in a glistening box sweltered with misery on the inside. she thought daehyun was a bad child, rightfully so. she had a daughter the same age who never got along with the boy because he too - a glaring red flag so - copy of his father. they’re both eight when daehyun has his first fight with her and finds no mercy in hitting the back of the girl’s head with the television remote when he doesn’t get his way. she’s sent to the hospital thankfully with no major injuries, but daehyun stays at home when she does, clutching the remote possessively in two hands, watching the children’s show he wanted to.

because of him, another step mother is lost. he’s turning thirteen and because of the child daehyun’s father has let him become, she stops loving him, too.

a tragedy at its finest: he begins to resent his own son.

the two of them form a father-son relationship that redefines the dynamics of a normal, healthy relationship: his son is a borderline sociopath, plagued by years of paternal turmoil he’s been drowned in for years. daehyun gets everything that he wants because his father hates him and wants nothing to do with him. summer camps abroad in europe with other spoiled kids keep him away in the warmer months, international boarding schools in the winter to push him away even farther.

the time that daehyun is home, though, all he does is take, take, take.

“gonna start taking dance classes,” he announces to his father one evening at dinner when he’s fifteen and bored with the lack-lusterness of his dreaded, boring rich kid life. there’s no intonation to resemble a question, no way, shape or form of asking, hey dad, mind if i use your money to pursue a potentially stimulating hobby to keep me out of the house? of course not - because please isn’t in daehyun’s vocabulary.

people tell his father he’s a stupid man for letting his son walk all over him in the way that he does. he hates his son but gives him what he wants to see his face as little as possible. there’s a permanent smug on daehyun’s face that his father can’t recall never being there - or, that is, remember when he’d let his son cross the line (and there was no turning back now).

daehyun doesn’t follow pop music much, but his ego still eats up the shallow encouragement of his dance academy’s classmates to audition for an entertainment company that had been the word of mouth for a few weeks. truthfully, he’s nowhere as good a dancer as he pegs himself to be. there are far more people on audition day that show passion and dedication to the art whereas daehyun is only here because - well - he think he’s good enough to be. but sure enough, as it always works out, the rich always get the better end of the bargain.

he gets a call, and once again, daehyun gets what he wants.

his year of training is fast and unexpectedly difficult for a boy like himself: they don’t care what his background is, don’t care that he is practically swimming in his father’s pool of money - it’s all irrelevant. they keep daehyun around because he’s cute and know if they have him as a trainee, posed to debut, it’ll be his face that sells. so long as he keeps his mouth quiet, ego in check and behavior in order: but he can only give so much to a camera before he lets his true personality slip.

fans eat him up the moment poizn’s teaser pictures are released: he’s young and cute with a face that draws in lots of young, female fans that devote themselves entirely to him and his group. his fans are nothing short of catty and defensive, ready to snap the neck of any girl that thinks nothing of when they say he’s handsome. he is handsome, but he’stheirs. casual fans begin to find his personal fans to be too obsessive, too defensive for just one boy that they gradually begin to learn is just a rich boy that probably paid his way into the group (if only his father could’ve thought to try that, to get him far away from himself as possible).

song after song, the group gets bigger and bigger - daehyun feels unstoppable. his fans’ - their leeches - feed into it all, give his company money that they slowly find the rhythm to use and abuse. once love scenario unexpectedly skyrockets, the fireworks settle and daehyun is confident he’s almost the equivalent to the industry’s version of a real king. his ego has been so well fed, fattened up to such an extent that he can’t even see his feet when he walks anymore. he begins to openly go out with some friends, and sometimes, even his group mates drinking - nothing too wildly out of control - but the amount of alcohol and time spent drinking that he flaunts on social media begins to cross the line between what image daehyun wants to shape for himself (you just can’t take the spoiled rich kid out of him, as much as his company would like to try). his air of slightly cockiness, one seeded from his childhood and nurtured by his idol life, however, earns him that particular niche of fans who like to tell themselves it’s all just for the cameras.

everything feels so easy for them now. because of the image the boys have built for themselves within and outside of poizn, the facadé of pure, idolized-boys can finally be dropped. in truth, it makes for a hurricane of problems for the group’s pr management, and daehyun is nothing but the permanent, dull headache on their corner temple that just won’t ever go away.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Ah, but being a party girl... Getting to your late 20s/early 30s, feeling that shift within you; knowing that hey, this can't go on forever... Starting something light with Crocodile, maybe aiming for a little fun in the spring, just someone proper to take you out for dinners and to warm your bed - testing the waters, so to speak. You want to settle down soon, just not right now, just want to see how it is as an item. He's handsome, has a certain air to him and a lot of money to spend - so why not?

tw.minors dni, a little dark twist at the end bc it's crocodile 🤭

Of course, you butter him up. He's right at that age where his type of man gets a little wistful, would like to have a wife, a house, maybe a kid if it's in the cards, still? Twenty-some years of 50 hour weeks will do that to you, will show you that your body doesn't just bounce back like so when you step over a certain threshold. Well, he wants someone to put a ring on; you want some fun - so, selfish as you are, you play along. Humor him. Hang off his arm and entertain those silly thoughts of his - a vacation together, moving in with him after the summer's done (because well, why not smile and nod when you'll be long gone by then), pointedly ignoring the way he keeps burying you in expensive gifts. You should feel bad, the guilt should probably eat you alive, because as the weeks pass you can tell that he's really, really smitten with you while you're secretly texting some other guy your age when you return home from yet another chic Italian restaurant-

It's such a sad thing, really. He'll make some other woman stupid happy, especially if she's been yearning for a rich husband; he's the perfect example of the broody, grumbly type who mumbles on and on about her expensive taste but would rather die than NOT to buy her exactly what she wants. There is a certain appeal to him (or else you wouldn't have spent this much time with him) and he'll be just fine after licking wounds once you're gone, you're sure of it. It's definitely nice to have someone around who is serious about you - after years and years of boyfriends (emphasis on boy) who were only good for long nights of drinking and summer vacations, you feel spoiled and terribly grown to have a handsome man downright worship you, to plan a future with you after such little time. He's committed and doesn't play around. Yes, you think, you could get used to this, but you still need a few more years of being free before you'll let yourself be tied down - because as much as it is flattering, it can also be a little scary. The thought of you in a white gown and a matching ring on your finger in just a year is making you antsy; and with how fast he's moving he might just want to opt for a December wedding.

So you do what you do best: smile, kiss him goodbye after yet another lovely date and- ghost him. You avoid his neighborhood for a few weeks, go private on all your socials, block his number, duck away whenever you see that telltale black shock of hair that is dragging smoke behind it, act like he never existed. And it works, as it always does.

At least that's what you think. Because the one night you finally dare to venture out again ends abruptly and with you waking up in an unfamiliar room. You can barely lift your hand to rub your tired eyes because suddenly there is a weight on it and a familiar face is staring you down solemly from the bedside, that all too familiar smell of cigars all around you. Turns out, leaders of crime syndicates who operate behind the innocent fronts of bussinesmen don't like to be deceived and made a fool of, especially by naive little playgirls who think they're smarter than the rest of the world and when they weren't even able to glean that there was more to the person they chose to goad. And spoiled brats like you need to learn not to toy with other people's hearts and egos, both of which are dangerously fragile. You reeled him in with promises of marriage and love and that's exactly what you'll give him now, just without all the luxury that you could have had if you hadn't been dishonest from the start.

Time to grow up, princess.

[whoreshijima]

I’m actually going to quit I stg— stop following me if you’re a thinspo account, pro eating disorder, racist, underage, a minor

Read my fucking rules before following me

I hate this fuckinf hellsite