#yeah. I’m aware. it’s not something I can super control.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

*rattling the bars of my cage and screaming*

I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF MY HEALTH I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO ASK FOR HELP IN A WAY THAT WILL LET ME BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY

[parkitrighthere]

The Black Orchid Project

Pairing: billionaire CEO!Jeon Jungkook x Secretory!Reader Genre: Dark Romance, Mystery, Thriller Word Count: 19k Trigger warning: This chapter contains morally grey characters, toxic characters, dark romance, trauma, violence, mentions of murder, death, and conspiracy. Reader discretion is advised. Summary: Jungkook is the enigmatic CEO of a major conglomerate with a haunting secret—he can hear everyone’s thoughts. But when Y/N becomes his new personal secretary, she’s the only person whose thoughts remain silent to him. Intrigued and unsettled, Jungkook is drawn to the mystery she presents, not realizing that their connection will unravel secrets neither of them are prepared to face. a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @parkitrighthere. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support. a/n: So, I finally posted. Yeah, I know, shock of the century, right? You were probably out here cursing my name like, 'Where the heck have you been?' Well, I guess I just decided not to post this time. Don’t ask me why, I don’t even know. But hey, I’m sorry for that. I know, I say sorry a lot, it’s like my default setting at this point. But I swear, I’m really going to try and post more. I promise. Maybe. Also, a super huge shoutout and a massive thank you to my absolute favorite person @closer-to-jungkook. She beta-read this mess for me, and gave me so many amazing insights, but guess what? I didn’t do a single thing with them because, you know, I’m a failure like that. So, yeah, basically I let her down as my beta reader. Sorry, girl. But next time, I swear, I’ll actually listen and make you proud... unless I forget, again, in which case... whoops. Anyway, love you guys, and I’ll try not to disappear again... maybe.

PROLOGUE MASTERLIST 02

CHAPTER TITLE: Work, Words, and Wrecks

You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, your hands gripping the edges of the table, knuckles white as you tried to appear composed. But your patience was wearing thin. He was overreacting, making a mountain out of nothing. Sure, you’d made a mistake—who hadn’t?—but this? This was ridiculous. What was his deal with the room’s capacity? Why on earth was he so bothered about having more than four people in a room? Seriously, what kind of control freak rule was that? You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Was he scared of crowds or something? Honestly, with his attitude, he should be. If he kept ticking people off like this, one day, someone might snap—and if there were enough people, they’d form a mob. The thought almost made you snort, but you swallowed it down, biting your cheek. It was a silly theory, but it was better than trying to untangle the nonsense of his rules.

The meeting dragged on. Time seemed to crawl as if the clock itself was protesting against the sheer monotony of the discussion. It hadn’t been long since it started, but to you, it already felt like you’d been trapped in this room for days. You lost count of the times his gaze—no, his glare—scorched into you. Each glance filled with condescension that felt like a slap across the face.

He glared at you again. His soft, doe-like eyes narrowed, dark and piercing, with a keenness that made you shrink back slightly. His jaw tightened, the muscle jumping under his skin as he ground his teeth. You flinched instinctively, your body betraying you with a subtle jerk, as if bracing for impact, suddenly aware of how small you felt under his scrutiny. Your hands clenched in your lap, fingers feeling like they might snap, as you tried to focus anywhere else.

You quickly averted your gaze, your eyes darting around the room, desperate for an escape.  Your eyes landed on Taehyung. He leaned back casually in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, his long fingers drumming against the table in a slow, lazy rhythm. As soon as he felt your gaze, his lips curled into a subtle smirk. He raised his brows and blinked at you—once, deliberately.

You felt your face heat, and not from embarrassment, but frustration. God, all these men are insane. You clenched your fists tighter, nails digging into your palms to calm yourself.  You swore they all had some kind of mental dysfunction. Jungkook with his silent rage, Taehyung with his infuriating charm—maybe Jimin was the only sane one in this room besides you.

You sighed, shifting in your seat again, your foot tapping nervously against the floor. Mental health courses exist for a reason, you thought bitterly, your gaze flickering between Jungkook’s scowl and Taehyung’s irritating grin. Maybe they should sign up for all of them.

 As your thoughts spiralled, you dared a glance at him… again. Only to catch the faintest twitch of his brow—precise, calculated. It wasn’t just anger in his expression; it was something darker, something… personal? And it scared you, even if you’d never admit it.

The moment you had been dreading finally came. The meeting was over.

Chairs screeched against the floor as everyone pushed back from the table. The sound grated on your nerves, but you rose from your seat anyway, hands trembling, legs wobbling as though they might give out beneath you.

 Your breath hitched, shallow and fast, a knot tightening in the pit of your stomach. Your heart pounded against your ribs, a viscous thud that made your chest ache.  Was this fear? Anxiety? You couldn’t tell anymore, but it clawed at you, gnawing at your insides like a predator circling its prey. You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to calm yourself, but the uneasy tremor in your chest refused to fade.

You risked another glance at him, keeping your gaze low, peeking through your lashes, a fleeting, nervous look that you immediately regretted.  His gaze locked onto you, soft yet paradoxically so sharp and firm, as if he could see right through you. The weight of his stare felt like a physical force pressing against your temple. You quickly looked away but it was too late.

 Your throat tightening as your heart slammed against your ribs. But it didn’t matter—his eyes stayed on you, burning holes into the side of your head like he could feel every breath you took.

There was something in the way he looked at you—a mix of curiosity and disdain that made your skin crawl, like you were an unsolved puzzle he hated having to deal with. It was as though he were studying you, dissecting you piece by piece. He looked at you like he couldn’t stand the thought of breathing the same air as you, as if being in the same room as you was a personal insult he couldn’t forgive. The corner of his mouth twitched, but not in kindness. A cold, predatory smirk curled his lips, one that made your blood run cold.

His soft brown boba eyes never left you.

And then he smiled. Cold, shrill, and entirely without warmth. A smile that dripped with obnoxiousness and delight, as though he was basking in your unease, feeding off it like it gave him some twisted satisfaction.

 You weren’t sure what scared you more—the venom in his gaze or the fact that you couldn’t look away, no matter how much you wanted to.

"Jungkook," Seokjin’s voice cut through the fragile silence like a gentle breeze, calm and soothing.

Jungkook’s head snapped toward Seokjin, and in an instant, everything about him changed.

 His shoulders, tense and rigid moments ago, relaxed, and his piercing glare melted away, replaced by something soft—gentle, even. His lips curved into a smile, one so sweet and genuine it left you completely dumfounded. You blinked, your mouth falling open in shock.

What the hell?

Your eyes widened,  as you stared at him, disbelief etched across your face.  How... how is this possible? This was the same man who had spent the entire meeting glaring daggers at you, exuding nothing but cold enmity. How could someone so rude, heartless, and obnoxiously infuriating smile like that? It didn’t make sense. It felt like a trick, some cruel joke the universe was playing on you. But there it was—his smile, warm and dazzling, as if he hadn’t spent the past hour glaring at you like you were dirt beneath his shoe.  And now? Now he looked like a painting come to life—a vision of warmth and beauty that shouldn’t belong to someone so cruel.

Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed the faint crinkle at the corners of his eyes, the way his smile softened his entire face. For a brief, fleeting moment, you found yourself mesmerized. A small, traitorous voice whispered in the back of your mind, He’s stunning. Beautiful. Perfect. And he was. That smile made him look like something out of a dream, his dark orbs soft and almost shy under the fluorescent light. He was cute too, you realized, in that infuriating way that made you want to scream. And hot? God, no one could dare bring up the concept of hotness without mentioning him.

How can someone so horrible look this… beautiful? The whisper in the back of your mind grew louder. This man is the definition of beauty.

Your cheeks flushed at the thought, and you shook your head quickly, breaking free from whatever spell he’d cast. No. Absolutely not. Don’t go there. You shook your head slightly, muttering a quiet mantra in your head. No, no, no. He’s an idiot. A rude, wicked bastard. Stop it. This is the same guy who’s made your day a living hell. Remember that. But it was hard to ignore the way your heart raced, or the strange flutter in your chest.

Jungkook didn’t respond to Jin right away. Instead, he moved. His long strides carried him around the table, each step smooth and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. He stopped beside Jin, his posture instantly relaxed as Seokjin patted his shoulder in a way that felt natural, familiar.

Jin began to speak again, his lips parting as if to offer some kind of reassurance, but Jungkook cut him off before he could finish.

“Hyung! Let’s go to my office,” Jungkook said, his voice low and soft, almost tender. “We’ll talk there?” His voice was softer than you’d heard it, polite and calm. It was so different from the cold, harsh tone he had threw your way.

You blinked, staring at the two of them as your jaw threatened to hit the floor again. This can’t be real. Him? Soft? It was like watching a lion purr—a sight so contradictory it didn’t feel real. His tone was polite, his demeanour respectful—words you would never have associated with the man five minutes ago

Your eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, struggling to make sense of what you were seeing. Jungkook, the same man who had made your day a living hell, now stood before Seokjin like an obedient younger brother. It was unsettling, to say the least.

He wasn’t just polite—he was soft. Gentle, even.

You couldn’t stop staring. The way he tilted his head slightly when he spoke to Jin, the way his hands relaxed at his sides, no longer tense or clenched. It was so different from the version of him you knew, it almost felt like you were looking at a completely different person.

Your fingers twitched at your side, itching to pinch yourself. Maybe you were dreaming. Or hallucinating. Because the Jungkook you knew? He didn’t do soft. And yet, here he was, proving you wrong with every breath. The man who had made it his mission to make you feel two inches tall was suddenly soft and sweet with Seokjin? It didn’t make sense.

But the warmth in his expression lingered, and for reasons you couldn’t explain, it made your chest tighten. He was more than what you’d seen so far… wasn’t he?

Jin’s face lit up with a bright smile as he nodded at Jungkook. Turning away, he gave Namjoon and Taehyung a light nudge to follow him.

Namjoon responded with a quick nod, a broad grin spreading across his face as he moved to join them.

Taehyung, however, didn’t move. Instead, he slumped further into his chair, crossing his arms loosely and leaning back with a loud, exaggerated sigh. His lips pressed into a pout as he stared at the ceiling like the very idea of moving was a personal offense. It was no secret that Jeon Enterprises and Kim Enterprises were very close; both companies worked hand in hand. Even Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung went to the same school and college together. Their entire childhood and teenage years were spent together, and they were still together. All three of them were always in the news, and always together too. Jungkook knew Taehyung like the back of his hand along with his antics.

Namjoon glanced over, eyebrows furrowing in that “here we go again” way of his as he caught sight of Taehyung’s antics. “Seriously?” he asked, his tone half amused, half exasperated. His hands found their way to his hips, as he watched Taehyung flap his arms against the chair’s armrests.

Taehyung raised his hand in the air, palm out, as if announcing something grand. “No!”  he exclaimed, dragging the word out as he slowly pushed himself up from his seat, slowly, deliberately, making it as dramatic as possible before turning to Seokjin. “I won’t, hyung. I refuse.”

Seokjin didn’t react right away. He merely tilted his head, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, making it clear he wasn’t impressed. His lips pressed into a thin line as he let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes. His gaze shifted to Namjoon, wordlessly asking, Is this brat for real?

Namjoon only shrugged, an almost conspiratorial grin spreading across his face, as if he found the whole thing more entertaining than annoying. . They both turned their attention back to Taehyung, who didn’t care—if anything, their reactions only fueled his theatrics.  "NO," Taehyung declared, his voice firm, though his lips twitched with the hint of a smile.

“What now?” Seokjin asked finally, his voice calm, dangerously calm, but the words that tumbled out were tight. It wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be—it was the kind of calm that warned you not to push your luck. His piercing eyes bored into Taehyung, sharp and calculating, a reminder that behind the soft features was a mind you didn’t want to cross.  The sharp edge to it made you flinch, even though the question wasn’t directed at you.

The tension in the room shifted as even Taehyung hesitated for a second, his hand dropping to his side as he shifted under Jin’s obdurate stare. But within minutes he was back to his usual self.

You stood in the corner, half-forgotten, watching the scene unfold as if you were invisible. For a moment, it felt like you were intruding on a private family argument. They were so lost in their little world that none of them seemed to notice you lingering.  The ridiculousness of the scene was almost enough to make you forget the tension lingering in the air. Almost.

Seokjin’s calm demeanour held stable as he waited for Taehyung’s next move, the silence stretching just long enough to make even you hold your breath.

But Taehyung, being Taehyung, jabbed his finger in Jungkook's direction without even sparing him a glance. “He didn’t invite me! Just you, hyung. Just you,” he said, voice laced with mock hurt. Namjoon sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he shook his head, but a soft smile tugged at his lips. How could he stay mad? Taehyung was his little brother, and no matter how ridiculous the stunt, even when they bordered on absurd, he couldn’t help but find it endearing.

Taehyung’s arms crossed over his chest, his pout deepening as he stuck his bottom lip out, eyes narrowing as he watched Seokjin expectantly.

“An invitation? Really? You want an invitation?” Seokjin asked, his voice flat and deadpan, like he couldn’t believe he was even entertaining this ridiculous request. “What is this, a wedding? You want calligraphy and wax seals?”

Taehyung’s pout deepened, his gaze shifting dramatically to the side as he huffed. "Please would do," His voice a mix of childish demand and mock offense, his eyes flicking to Seokjin for any sign of approval.

 “A proper invite,” he huffed. “With manners. A simple please.”

Jimin couldn’t hold back his laugh, it came out bright and loud, like he’d just heard the funniest joke. "What?!" he snorted, stepping forward with an amused glint in his eyes.

 His laughter only grew as he straightened, wiping a fake tear from his eye before stepping toward Taehyung. “From Jungkook? Oh, Tae, you’re delusional.” he said, his voice a mockingly sweet coo.

Taehyung’s brow twitched, and he shoved Jimin away, glaring at him. “Don’t call me delusional,” he snapped. “And stop laughing. It’s not that funny.”

Jimin, still laughing, straightened up and threw an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders. “Oh, but it is, Tae-Tae,” he teased, dragging out the nickname with enough sugar to cause cavities.

Taehyung immediately shoved him off. “Don’t call me that!” he barked, though his glare wavered when Jimin stumbled backward, his laughter echoing in the room.

“Let’s be real,” Jimin said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “Jungkook saying please? You’ve got better odds of him baking us cupcakes with love letters on top.”

Seokjin watched the entire scene unfold with a quiet sigh, his arms falling to his sides as he shook his head. “Bloody idiots,” he muttered under his breath, though his eyes betrayed the fondness he felt for them all.

Jungkook, who had been leaning against the wall with the air of someone far too cool to care, quirked an eyebrow. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. The faint smirk on his lips said it all: “Not happening.”

“See?” Jimin said, gesturing toward Jungkook with a wide grin, as if the smirk was proof enough of what he’d been saying.

Taehyung huffed, rolling his eyes as he glared at Jungkook. "He’s insufferable." he muttered, his voice flat but dripping with monotony. He threw the words out with the kind of disinterest that only Taehyung could manage, as though even arguing was beneath him.

“Always has been,” Jimin agreed cheerfully, giving Taehyung a playful pat on the shoulder.

“You want an invite?” Seokjin deadpanned, cutting through the noise like a knife. “Fine. Jungkook, invite him.”

Jungkook didn’t even look up. “No.”

The room fell silent for a beat before Jimin broke into another fit of laughter. “I told you!” he howled, practically doubling over again. “That guy would rather eat his shoe than say the p-word.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Taehyung muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

Jimin grinned, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “What’s the matter, Tae? Expecting something special from him? Maybe a song, a serenade, flowers—”

“Shut up,” Taehyung snapped, his face turning red as he swatted at Jimin His glare faltering just enough to reveal a flicker of amusement behind his annoyed facade.

Namjoon, trying to keep it together, clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking slightly with suppressed laughter. Seokjin did the same, clearing his throat to hide the grin threatening to break free. You couldn’t hold back either, a soft laugh slipping from your lips. The sound of it made everyone snap their heads in your direction, and you immediately went still.

“Oh, for the love of—” Taehyung groaned, standing up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly as he shoved it back. “This is ridiculous. Forget it. I’m not playing this game.”

“You’re still mad, aren’t you?” Jimin pressed, a laugh already escaping as he took a step back, clearly enjoying pushing Taehyung’s buttons.

“Like I care!” Taehyung shot back, his hands gesturing wildly before he turned on his heel. He glared at Jungkook one last time. “Who’d want to spend time with a jerk like him anyway?”

You couldn’t help but agree, nodding your head. It was truly, genuinely, sincerely, honestly the most truthful statement you'd heard all day. Even Jungkook chuckled at Taehyung's behaviour, and your gaze snapped back to Jungkook. You stared at him in disbelief; you never thought you'd see this man smiling. Yet here he was, standing in all his glory, proving you wrong.  Jungkook? Laughing? Relaxed? It was like spotting a unicorn in the wild. For the first time, he didn’t look like the insufferable boss you were growing to despise. He looked...earth-shatteringly handsome. You cursed under your breath, clenching your fists to keep from staring too long.

It made you feel like your brain was short-circuiting. Here was this asshole of a man, acting like he was above it all, and yet… he was smiling. It made him look almost… normal.

Why was he so ridiculously handsome? He was a jerk, a complete ass, yet... there was something about him. He was perfect boyfriend material, especially with those tattoos. You'd seen them in magazines, but you wouldn't mind seeing them in real life.

He was a jerk, but otherwise, he was perfect boyfriend material, especially with those tattoos. You'd seen them in magazines, but you wouldn't mind seeing them in real life.

You shook your head abruptly, as if physically trying to dislodge the thought. Nope. Absolutely not. Stop it.

Why were you thinking all this nonsense?

Because no matter how annoyingly perfect he looked in that moment—relaxed, smirking, and effortlessly magnetic—you knew better. He wasn’t your type. Not even close. You were way too smart to fall for someone as much of a piece of shit as he was.

As soon as your eyes met Jungkook’s, your heart dropped into your stomach.  Your legs wobbled, the ground beneath you suddenly felt unstable. You felt like the world had stopped.  The only thing keeping you upright was the edge of the table you leaned against, gripping it so tightly your knuckles turned white. It was like he had forgotten you were even there, but now that he remembered... you were in trouble.

Your thoughts were a mess, a rush of panic flooding your veins. Please, don't fire me. Please don't fire me, you repeated over and over in your mind. His stare made you feel like a sheep waiting to be devoured by a wolf—helpless and small.

Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Jimin’s voice cut through, loud but tensed. "Why are you still standing here?" he asked, his eyes darting nervously between you and Jungkook. "I'm sure you have work to do."

You nodded quickly, too quickly, your head bobbing furiously in agreement.

“What work, Jimin?” Jungkook snapped, his voice low and brimming with frustration. “She’s fired,” he declared, sending a shiver down your spine. His words felt like a physical blow, the weight of them crushing your chest. You could barely hear the rest of his sentence as panic drowned out everything else—I've had enough of her…

What to do now?

Cry, a voice whispered in the back of your head.

Jimin, however, wasn’t having any of it. “Enough, Jungkook!” he shot back, his voice hard and commanding. The sharpness in Jimin’s words was like a shield between you and Jungkook’s anger. You could see the way Jungkook’s expression shifted—he was still seething, but Jimin left no room for argument.

“She isn’t fired, and it’s final,” Jimin said. You could see the muscles in his jaw twitching as he tried to control his temper.

Jungkook opened his mouth to retort, but Jimin cut him off with a simple wave of his hand, motioning for you to leave. You didn’t need to be told twice. You bolted from the conference room, not even daring to look back. You weren’t sure whether to be more terrified of Jungkook or grateful to Jimin. You knew you’d messed up—it was your fault—but Jimin had chosen to take your side, and you couldn’t understand why.

You sprinted down the hall toward the elevator. Your hands trembled as you jabbed—no, banged—the elevator button for the 26th floor. The wait felt agonizingly long.

When the elevator finally dinged open, you stumbled out, half-running to your desk. Collapsing into your chair, you let out a shaky breath and buried your face in your arms on the desk. Your head fell onto your desk with a loud thud.

What had just happened?

God, your first day almost became your last.

You took a deep, steadying breath and pushed yourself upright, gripping the edge of your desk to ground yourself. This isn’t the time to wallow, you thought, brushing your hair back from your face with trembling fingers. You couldn’t afford to crumble now.

You can’t mess up again, you reminded yourself, wiping a hand over your face. Jimin might’ve saved you today, but luck won’t always be there neither… he. Luck was fleeting. It wasn’t something you trusted. Not with your history. You let out a dry laugh under your breath—luck and you were like oil and water. You were the ultimate symbol of bad luck, and that delightfully beautiful director of Jeon Enterprises had simply taken pity on you. Yes, it wasn’t luck. It was Jimin’s mercy, and you couldn’t count on it happening twice. Especially not when your boss—the arrogant bastard himself—was likely already sharpening his knives for round two.

The thought of Jungkook—his dark, piercing gaze—still lingered in your mind, but you forced yourself to focus. He was a devil, no doubt, and you... you were just the unlucky fool who happened to cross his path.

You couldn't afford to mess up again. Play it safe, you told yourself. Do your job right and keep your head down. You couldn’t give him another reason to unleash his wrath.

Your eyes fell to the stack of files in front of you, and a sinking feeling hit you hard in the stomach. The pile seemed to grow taller with each breath you took. The next meeting was only thirty minutes away

You glanced at the files scattered across your desk. Focus, you reminded yourself, slapping your cheeks lightly to snap out of it. The next meeting was in thirty minutes, and you didn’t have the luxury of time to curse your misfortune or that insufferable man.

Your eyes darted over the papers, frustration bubbling up as you began sifting through them. The previous secretary—whoever they were—had left behind a tangled mess. A spectacularly awful mess.

 How was this even possible?

You could almost feel your blood pressure rise as you examined the glaring errors.  The deadlines were completely out of sync with the client’s expectations, the budget allocations were so far off it was laughable, and one section even referenced an entirely different project altogether. If this wasn’t fixed in time for the meeting, it would be a complete disaster, and you were the one who’d have to face the consequences.

“This is a joke,” you muttered. You grabbed a pen, tapping it furiously against the table as your brain raced to come up with a plan.

Half an hour. That’s all you had to fix this disaster before you had to present it to a room full of people, including him.

"Fuck you! Whoever you are." you muttered under your breath, pushing your sleeves up, ignoring the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. Get it together, you scolded yourself. “This isn’t rocket science.” Your voice cracked slightly as you muttered the words aloud, as if hearing them would calm the storm raging inside you.

You grabbed the laptop, pulling up emails and client notes to cross-check the project details. The keyboard clacked furiously under your hands. Your brows furrowed in concentration, your lips pressed into a tight line. You clicked open the soft copy of the file, eyes scanning the screen quickly.

You stole a glance at the clock, and your heart nearly stopped. Twenty minutes left. Fuck.

The dull throb behind your temples was growing each passing minute, but you didn’t have the luxury to slow down. Tears? Not an option. You didn’t have time for that. Not when your whole career was teetering on the edge of disaster.

Get through the day without Jungkook turning you into his next verbal target.

 The mistakes were too obvious to miss, too dangerous to ignore. If the client saw these errors, it wasn’t just your job on the line—it was Jeon Enterprises' reputation. And that would mean your boss, Jungkook, would tear you apart, slowly and painfully.

 what have you done to deserve this.

Your fingers slammed against the keyboard as you raced through the sections. The section referencing the wrong project? Gone, replaced with the right one. The mismatched deadlines? Adjusted. The budget allocations that didn’t even make sense? Rewritten, recalculated, and double-checked.

You needed to print the corrected version. Your hands trembled as you stared at the screen, unsure of where to even begin this process. This wasn’t just a small mistake anymore—it felt like the whole day was falling apart in real time. You stared at the screen with mounting dread. Print. Where?

You slapped the print button, watching as the computer confirmed that it was printing, but your brain was far from settled. Printer? Where’s the damn printer? Your heart pounded as you stood, snatching up your blazer and dashing out of your office.

The hallway felt endless as you looked down the corridor. You felt a wave of frustration, the kind you’d never experienced before. You could have screamed, a sound that would shake the walls, but you couldn’t. Instead, you forced a deep breath through your nose and tried to calm yourself.

Finally, you spotted the printer at the end of the hall—right by the breakroom, its small glowing light blinking. It should have been a simple solution, but when you saw the machine, all you felt was pure, hot rage. Why is it always this difficult?

Why did it feel like everything was against you today?

Because of course, it jammed halfway through. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as you leaned down, yanking at the paper slot with all your might. The printer groaned, then jammed, and you let out an angry sound that came out as a strangled groan.

“Come on, you stupid thing—work!” you hissed, muttering curses that seemed to make you feel worse. Stupid thing!

You slammed the print button again, your fingers stabbing at the machine. Finally, the printer whirred, clicked, and then began its slow, steady rhythm. You let out a shaky breath, pressing your hand against your forehead to steady the dizziness threatening the edges of your focus.

Finally, the documents started coming out. You grabbed them. You ran your hands over the pages, smoothing them down compulsively as though that would make them more trustworthy. You clutched it like it was your lifeline. Not perfect, but it'll have to do. Once back in your cabin, you shoved the papers into a folder, your chest still tight.

The clock on the wall caught your attention.

Ten minutes left.

 You could barely breathe as you walked out of your office, your feet moving almost on autopilot. In no time, you found yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s office.

You knocked. Once. Twice. And then… you waited.

 You closed your eyes briefly, took a steadying breath. You bit your lip, and raised your hand to knock thrice.

"Come in!" Jungkook’s voice rang out, gruff and loud, cutting through the air. You hesitated for a second before pushing the door open, and every head in the room snapped toward you. You stepped inside, your heart racing as you greeted them with a polite but fake smile, trying your best to keep it together. Only Jimin smiled back. The others... they just stared, like you were some strange creature. Jin and Namjoon looked shocked—why? What was going on? And then there was Taehyung, his eyes wide with what could only be described as disbelief.

Jimin spoke first, his voice light and effortless, and you couldn't help but thank your lucky stars—or maybe it was just Jimin being Jimin. “You need something?”

You gave a short nod and turned to face Jungkook. His eyes narrowed, his arms crossing over his chest, his whole posture screaming annoyance.  His jaw was clenched so tight it seemed like he might snap any second. You swallowed hard, trying not to show how much his stare rattled you.

"Yeah. I was merely here to remind Mr. Jeon that the meeting starts in… like ten—no, seven minutes now," you managed to say, your voice wavering just a little as you spoke. Your hands were clenched at your sides, and you forced yourself not to fidget.

You stole a quick glance around the room. Jin and Namjoon had gone back to their own conversations, but Taehyung was still staring at you, mouth slightly open like he couldn't believe you were standing there. Jungkook still hadn’t said anything, his eyes still boring into you.

"Thank you," Jimin said, his smile soft and genuine. "He’ll be there."

You nodded once, trying not to let your relief show too much. You gave a quick, polite bow of your head, then turned, making your way to the door, your steps hurried but controlled. As you left the room, you couldn’t help but think—Jimin was an angel, working for a devil. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done without him today.

As you walked out of his cabin, you caught the faintest sound of Taehyung’s voice drifting behind you.

“Damn, dude! She’s something. She must be… to get you this worked up. Wow! I loved it.”

You didn’t linger to hear the rest, though. It was like your feet were moving faster than your brain, the urgency propelling you back to your cabin. You sprinted to your desk, your hands shaking as you skimmed through the pages one final time. You stapled them together. You had to present this with confidence, one mistake and Jungkook would tear you apart.

Five minutes left.

“You’ve got this. Just fake it. Fake it all the way.”

Your heels clicked sharply against the marble floors as you made your way to the conference room. Your grip on the file tightened, your knuckles white. When you reached the door. With a firm push, you stepped inside.

Walking to the table, you laid down the stack of updated project files, replacing the older copies. Once every seat had the corrected file, you finally slid into your chair. The leather seat creaked softly as you sank into it, and you folded your hands tightly in your lap to steady them. You darted a glance at the door, waiting for everyone's but specially Jungkook’s inevitable arrival. You flipped through the files for what felt like the hundredth time. The numbers blurred slightly before your eyes, but you forced yourself to focus.

The sharp sound of the door opening made your head snap up. Jungkook walked in with the same air of authority that always seemed to announce his presence before he even spoke. His eyes locked onto you, narrowing instantly, and his jaw clenched so tight you swore you heard his teeth grind.

You stifled a sigh, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your face neutral. What now? You wondered bitterly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. Jungkook didn’t just dislike you—he hated you—like, deep, unrelenting hatred. For what reason? Who knew. And frankly, you didn’t care.  If you could, you would’ve told him to take his reasons, his anger, and his goddamn temper tantrums and shove them up his perfectly tailored ass, but you knew that wouldn’t help you keep your job.

He moved around the room with precision, as he made his way to his seat. His attention was fixed on you, like you were some annoying fly he wanted to swat. You straightened in your chair. He dropped into his chair with an air of casual authority and grace of someone far too confident for their own good.

For a moment, your traitorous thoughts drifted. He was handsome—annoyingly so. Sharp jawline, paradoxically piercing boba eyes, and a frame that looked like it was carved by a sculptor. But his attitude? That was enough to ruin the whole package. If only his personality matched his looks. If only he wasn’t such a pompous, insufferable jerk. Instead of charm, he had an ego the size of the goddamn building. If he had even an ounce of kindness or respect to him, he would’ve been perfect. But no, instead he walked with the kind of arrogance that could suffocate a room, his back rigid and his posture as stiff as the stick lodged firmly up his ass.

You shook the thought from your head. He wasn’t worth your time.

The door opened again, and this time it was the clients. Jungkook stood, but just barely.

He simply stood halfway and gave a curt nod that was so half-hearted you wondered if it hurt his pride to be polite. God forbid Mr. Perfect lower himself to basic manners. His expression didn’t change—stoic and unbothered—while yours shifted into a polite mask. Maybe you were expecting too much. Maybe you were the problem. You slid your chair closer to the table and sat down next to him. You offered the clients a small smile, hoping to compensate for Jungkook’s complete lack of warmth.

But his eyes. God, his eyes. They didn’t stray far from you.

You placed the documents in front of him. You kept your gaze fixed on the table, careful not to meet his boba eyes. “Here! Mr. Jeon,” you whispered, your voice as even and professional as you could manage. The last thing you wanted was to give him even an inch to criticize you.

Before you could pull your hand back, his fingers closed around the file. His hand was warm—too warm—and for just a moment, your cold, dainty fingers brushed against his. The warmth of his hand lingered on yours, and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Your body felt paralyzed, shocked, maybe even mesmerized by the sensation.  You couldn’t pull away—not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t.

Jungkook’s hand retreated first, leaving your fingers tingling. You leaned back in your chair, clearing your throat as heat crept up your neck. You turned your attention to the clients, offering a polite smile. They exchanged a few glances, their expressions unreadable.

Why are they looking at me like that?

Before you could figure it out, Jungkook’s voice cut through the silence, quiet and low. "Why are you making that face?"

You turned toward him, startled. “Huh?”

He didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him as he leaned back in his seat. His voice was soft, like a whisper, but it hit you like a punch to the gut.

“You look like you’re constipating,” he said, his tone casual, smooth, utterly calm—and utterly cruel and casual, as though commenting on the weather.

Your face fell. What did he just say? Your mouth fell open slightly in horror, heat rushing to your face. He did not just say that. You glared at the side of his face, imagining all the ways you could strangle him with the tie he wore so smugly. Murder was illegal, but maybe, just maybe, you could make an exception.

 Ignore him. He’s not worth it or… should you just strangle him? Oh, you wanted to strangle him. No, you needed to strangle him. Who even says that? You huffed, straightening in your seat and glaring at the file in front of you.

Jungkook flipped open the folder, his sharp eyes scanning the documents.

And then it happened—a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, so subtle you almost missed it. “Let’s begin,” he said smoothly, finally turning his attention to the clients. But just before he did, his gaze flicked to you, brief but searing.

The meeting began.

The meeting dragged on. Your hand ached from jotting down notes, your fingers stiff as they moved across the page. All you could think about was how Jungkook managed to handle these clients—their demands were endless, their standards sky-high. Jungkook, somehow, handled their lofty standards with an ease that almost infuriated you. How could someone so insufferable be so damn good at this? You, however, were drained. Mentally, physically, emotionally. All you wanted was to go home, curl up, and forget this entire ordeal. But the clients showed no signs of slowing, so neither could you. You scribbled furiously, keeping up with the endless stream of requests and comments, your hand cramping around the pen. Every now and then, you stole glances at the clock, silently begging for it all to end.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the meeting came to an end.

 The clients rose, shaking Jungkook’s hand with smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Jeon,” one of them said, their tone oozing professionalism. Then their gaze flicked to you, offering a curt nod—no words, no acknowledgment of your work. You swallowed the frustration bubbling up in your chest and nodded back, forcing a tight-lipped smile. Typical. You bit the inside of your cheek, swallowing the bitter taste of resentment as they exited the room. Well, women in corporate field.

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with Jungkook. Your mind was hyper-aware of his presence.

He was leaning back, the picture of ease, his chair swinging slightly from left to right. His left leg rested over his right, one arm draped casually across the armrest. He didn’t speak, didn’t make a sound, but the intensity of his stare was enough. You didn’t dare look up. Not after what had happened earlier. Not after what he said earlier.

You stole a glance, his tie had loosened slightly, the top button of his shirt undone. When he did that? He looked like he owned the entire world, and the infuriating thing was—he probably did.

You remembered what you thought while applying for this job: How hard could it be to work for him?

You’d found out the hard way, within mere hours.

Jeon Jungkook wasn’t just hard to work for—he was impossible. A devil in designer suits. A man who had no mercy and no patience, especially not for someone like you. Your first day had made that abundantly clear in the worst way possible.

Jeon Jungkook wasn’t someone to take lightly. He was a storm you hadn’t prepared for, and it was already threatening to swallow you whole.

You pushed the glass door open, ready to step out, but then you heard it—his voice, loud and clear.

"Pebble!"

You froze. Slowly, you turned around, almost colliding with the door in the process. His eyes locked onto yours, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t the friendly kind—it was something else. Something that made you feel both irritated and, disturbingly, giddy.

"What?" you muttered, your voice low and unsure. You weren't able to understand why you gripped it ever so tightly.

He stood from his chair, rising with an ease that felt effortless, his hands casually buried in his pockets. His movements were smooth, deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to examine you. He was far too good-looking for your sanity, far too composed, far too everything.

 Fuck him, and fuck your good sense.

What was this? Why were you feeling so fragile in front of him? You didn’t have time to figure it out because, in three long strides, he was standing in front of you, so close that the scent of his cologne wrapped around you.  His eyes were still on you, as if he were studying you—no, devouring you with just a glance. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And that, right there, made you even more furious.

Is this guy stupid? you wondered. What was the point of staring like that? It felt intrusive, unnerving, yet somehow, you couldn’t tear your own gaze away.

 Staring, in your book, was the hallmark of cheap behaviour, reserved for people with no manners or boundaries. But he somehow pulled it off, with that smirk and those features and that way he seemed to have everything in the world under control. As if his ridiculous good looks gave him a free pass.

"Coffee. In my office."

"Huh?" was all you could manage, your voice barely above a whisper, still unsure of what was happening.

He tsked, shaking his head like you were hopeless. “You heard me. Black. No sugar. Ms…” he trailed off, his brow furrowing slightly.

Your eyes widened in realization. He didn’t know your name. Or worse—he hadn’t even tried to know it until now. Your throat tightened, and you opened your mouth, about to respond, but before a single word could leave your lips, he finished with,

"Pebble."

Your mouth hung open, as you watched him leave.

Pebble.

He had just called you Pebble.

You stood there, staring, stunned, unable to believe what just happened.

He was the most disrespectful, irritating, unbearable person you had ever met.

The anger built up in you until you couldn’t stand still anymore. You stomped your foot hard against the ground.

You would make him regret this.

Oh, you absolutely would.

With a resigned sigh, you turned toward the elevator, dragging your feet. At least you now knew where the coffee machine was—down at the far end of the floor. Great. More walking. You hadn’t even done this much cardio in the past year, let alone in a single day. No wonder all the women here looked so fit—they practically lived on their feet.

When you reached the elevator, you noticed him—Jungkook—already stepping into it. Your pace slowed instinctively. No way were you getting in that elevator with him, even for a single second. He wouldn’t stop the elevator for you anyway—he was too much of a jerk to care.

But when had life ever gone according to your plans?

Before you could change direction, you heard the sound of the doors closing and sliding back open.

Oh, hell no. Your body tensed. You didn't want to step in there with him, but you didn’t have a choice. You dragged your feet reluctantly. The annoyance in his eyes deepened, and a muscle in his jaw twitched, like he was already regretting his decision to wait for you.

Finally, you reached the door.

“Get fucking in, woman.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You stepped inside, muttering curses in your head, and the doors slid shut with a soft ding.

 You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare look at him, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you, like he was trying to figure you out or, worse, punish you for existing.

Maybe he was pissed.

And you? You couldn’t decide if you hated him more in this moment or if you just wanted to get out of this damn elevator as quickly as possible.

“I thought you had work here,” he said, his tone casual.

“Huh?” you managed, surprised.

He shook his head, as if you were already the most frustrating thing he’d encountered that day.

“Do you know anything else besides ‘huh?’”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t wait. “I said, I thought you had work here.”

“What work?” you snapped. His eyes flared. But the bastard smirked, like he’d been expecting this reaction.

“What meeting do we have next, Pebble?” His voice was smooth, almost playful.

Your stomach dropped. Pebble. He had just said it again. But. You froze. His words lingered in your mind like a bad omen, but all that filled your head was white noise. The name of the company… where was it? Shit.

He chuckled, the sound low and smooth, just to make sure you knew how badly you’d messed up. “You need to collect some files from marketing and sales team. You forgot.”

The damn files. I forgot? You swallowed hard, glancing around the elevator as if the walls could give you an answer.

“What are you trying to do—break the glass and jump into the sales and marketing floor?” he said, his tone as bored as his expression. His words felt cruel, but you knew there was a bite of truth to them.

You shook your head, cheeks heating as you mentally berated yourself. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, embarrassed and annoyed. More walking. That’s all you could think about now.

The elevator doors opened, and Jungkook stepped out first. He glanced up at you, raising an eyebrow, and for a split second, you thought—just maybe—he might say something remotely decent. But no, that was far too much to hope for. His lips curled into that damn smirk as he turned away and said, “Coffee. On my desk. In five minutes.”

Before you could even respond, he turned around and walked away.

You stepped out of the elevator, its door closing behind you. You let out a frustrated exhale. God, I hate him. You made your way to the coffee machine. You prepared the coffee just like he’d ordered, and even the smell made your stomach churn. The bitterness of it matched the bitterness radiating from him.  No wonder he was always so damn miserable. A person who drank this much bitter coffee could only have a bitter heart.

You walked down the hall to his office. The door was slightly ajar, and you knocked softly, holding the cup in your hands.

“Come in,” he barked again from inside.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside, placing the coffee on his desk. He was sitting at his desk, back straight, his sharp features focused on his laptop. The desk was neat, pristine, every paper and pen in its place, a stark contrast to the chaos on your desk.

“Here, Mr. Jeon,” you said, your voice tight with forced politeness.

He didn’t even look at you. Instead, he grabbed the cup, bringing it to his lips like it was the most important thing in the world. His eyes fluttered closed as he took the first sip, and you watched in disbelief as he sighed deeply, as though he’d just tasted heaven.

“Good,” he muttered, but it wasn’t directed at you—it was all about the coffee. Your stomach turned at the absurdity of it. He didn’t even acknowledge the fact that you’d stood there, prepared it, and handed it to him.

“Send Jimin in my office. Now, leave,” he demanded, his voice flat, as if he were speaking to a wall, not a person.

 Every inch of you wanted to pull his hair out, to throw something across his perfectly organized desk. Instead, you nodded stiffly.

“Sure, Mr. Jeon,” you said, forcing the words past your clenched teeth before turning on your heel and leaving.

Once outside, the first thing you did was head straight for Jimin, who was at his desk, buried in papers. His workspace was cluttered with post-its, notes, and scribbles. His eyes lifted when you approached, and though his face showed signs of being busy, his greeting was polite as ever.

“What brings you here, Ms. …,” he began, with a soft smile.

“Mr. Jeon wants you in his office,” you replied, keeping it brief. You didn't have the energy to engage in any more small talk.

"Why?" Jimin asked, as he stood up, closing the file in his hands and sliding his blazer on with a sharp tug. You just shrugged. Jimin gave a small nod.

“Alright,” he said, adjusting his blazer. His tone indicated he didn’t mind being interrupted. “I’ll head in there.” You watched as he walked toward the hallway.

You followed your own path toward the marketing department first. You handed over the files, your hands sore from too much writing, before heading toward the sales department. The constant movement was starting to wear you down, but you couldn’t let it show. You did the same at the sales department, before finally making your way back to your office, your feet aching more than ever. This is going to be a long day, you thought, pressing a hand to your lower back as you settled into your chair.

Before you could catch a break, the clock ticked, signaling that it was time for the next meeting. You picked yourself up again, shoulders sore and heavy, and made your way back toward Jungkook’s office.

You knocked on the door before stepping in, your hand pressing into the wood with slightly trembling fingers. This time Jimin was in there with him, seated on the couch. He looked agitated—hands running through his hair as he exchanged words with Jungkook.

You hesitated at the threshold. You didn’t want to intrude on their conversation. You quickly turned on your heel, shaking your head as you backed out. These guys were insane.

You closed the door behind you with a gentle push and let out a shaky exhale. Your hands gripped your notebook tightly as you walked back toward the hallway.

The next meetings were a blur. For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you found yourself relieved when Jungkook skipped every other meeting for the day. He didn't show up, and Jimin took over. The clients didn’t seem to mind the change, and in fact, it made things easier. Jimin’s presence was soothing.  His voice was soft, his smile was kind. He spoke in careful sentences, his calm composure like a reassuring presence. Working with him was smoother, quieter—lovelier, even. He made the chaos of the day seem more manageable, and you found yourself wishing you found yourself wishing you could work for Jimin, just him.

But you quickly shut that thought down. That wasn’t possible, not when you were stuck in this job, tied to Jungkook. No matter how much you hated it, you had to stick around. It was unviable to leave, even though every part of you screamed for the chance to escape. You have to stick around him.

As the last meeting came to an end, you gathered the files and followed Jimin out of the conference room. He took the files from your hands. You were thankful for his help, but the lingering feeling of being under the spotlight didn’t fade. You hated the attention, and of course, everyone would stare. Having the director of the company himself helping you with your work was far too big of a deal. The eyes of all the female employees had burned into you as you walked out. You couldn’t shake the sense of discomfort, and it only worsened as you stepped into the elevator with Jimin.

"Mr. Park, you really don’t have to do this," you said, offering a shy smile as the elevator doors slid shut behind you.

Jimin, however, seemed unfazed. He gave a lazy smile, his voice light as he answered. "Oh, I’m not doing it for you." Jimin leaned casually against the wall, eyes scanning the floor numbers as they lit up.

You blinked, confused, your brows knitting together. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He turned his head, flashing you a mischievous grin. "It’s more for me, really."

Your frown deepened. "For you?" You couldn’t hide your confusion, but Jimin just chuckled, clearly entertained by your reaction.

"You see," he began, shifting slightly to face you fully. His eyes sparkled with a playful yet sincere gleam. "I come from old money. I just can't stand the idea of a woman doing something like that when I’m around. Makes me feel like I’m failing somewhere. I’ve got this fragile ego, you know?" His voice was light, teasing, but his smile softened as he continued. "It just feels better to help out. Plus, it’s... good manners."

"Yeah?" You asked, tilting your head slightly, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to make sense of his words. The slight smirk tugging at his lips told you he knew you were lost but didn’t care enough to explain. Instead, he only shrugged nonchalantly, his expression  so casual it almost felt dismissive.

Before you could respond further, the elevator dinged softly, and the doors slid open. Jimin stepped out first. You followed behind as you adjusted your grip on the files. He led the way to your cabin, his presence drawing a few curious glances from colleagues. You felt those stares prickling at your back again, but Jimin seemed entirely unbothered. He walked you to your cabin, while you struggled to keep up with his pace. When he finally reached your desk, he placed the stack of five thick files down with practiced ease, brushing invisible dust off his hands like it was no big deal.

"All set. Anything else you need before I head out?" he asked, his voice light as he straightened his blazer.

Thanks again, Mr. Park," you said, shaking your head.

Jimin gave a small nod in return, stepping back. Just as he turned to leave, he glanced over his shoulder. "Take care, pretty," he said, his tone casual, yet the words felt deliberate.

Your hands froze mid-motion as your head snapped up, eyes widening in surprise. Heat rushed to your face, and you felt the unmistakable blush spreading across your cheeks like wildfire. You stared at the empty doorway where Jimin had disappeared, his words echoing in your mind.

"What the hell," you muttered under your breath. Forcing yourself to focus, you picked up the files, flipping through the pages with renewed determination. It was time to finish up for the day, but not before ensuring everything was in order for tomorrow. Your fingers worked quickly, your eyes scanning schedules and notes, the lingering warmth on your cheeks refusing to fade completely.

When you finally finished your work, you grabbed the file Jungkook had instructed you to complete and headed to his office. As you approached, you noticed the door slightly ajar. Through the small gap, you could see Jimin sitting in one of the chairs in front of Jungkook’s desk. Jungkook, on the other hand, sat with his brows furrowed in a way that seemed permanently etched into his face. It was a wonder Jimin didn’t crack under the weight of his perpetual grimace. If he wasn’t so ridiculously good-looking, you were certain his demeanour would’ve been a massive letdown.

"Are you even human?" Jimin's voice rose, his tone laced with disbelief as he leaned forward, his palms slapping against the desk with a dull thud. His lips pressed tightly together. His words seemed to hit like a quiet plea, but Jungkook didn’t seem to care. His eyes stayed glued to his file as he flipped the pages.

"I am dying over here. I am that tired and you are one of the reasons behind it. Don’t you dare ignore me, Jeon Jungkook!" Jimin continued, his voice a mixture of disbelief and frustration. His words grew louder as he leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in the air, as if trying to physically puncture Jungkook’s indifference.

"Huh?" Jungkook’s voice was flat, almost absent, as he gave Jimin just a single glance, his eyes flickering for a mere millisecond before he turned back to the file in his hands. He gave a distracted nod, not sparing Jimin much more attention.

Jimin’s jaw dropped slightly, his annoyance reaching a boiling point. "Seriously!" he exclaimed. His fingers curled into loose fists as he leaned back, pacing a step before planting his hands on his hips. "You made me handle all your meetings and deal with my own workload. I’ve been running around like a headless chicken while you sit here, all cozy with your stupid papers! Do you not have any regard—"

"You're right," Jungkook said, his voice steady and matter-of-fact, cutting off Jimin’s rambling mid-sentence. He slowly closed the file in front of him and placed it neatly to the side. This time, he leaned back in his chair, his posture loosening slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. His dark, boba eyes locked on Jimin’s. "I am sorry, hyung. You're always picking up the slack for me. I don't say it enough, but… I’m really grateful. I couldn’t do this without you."

Jimin froze for a moment, his brow furrowing as he eyed Jungkook suspiciously. His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head, studying Jungkook as if he had just grown a second head. "Oh? What’s wrong with you?" he asked, dragging the words out slowly. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows digging into the edge of Jungkook's desk. "Show me your head. You punk, I’m sure you hit it somewhere."

Jimin shot up from his seat and lunged across the desk with inflated urgency, his hand reaching for Jungkook's head like a concerned but overly dramatic mother.

"Jimin-shi!" Jungkook exclaimed, his voice rising in protest as he swatted at Jimin’s hands. He grabbed Jimin’s wrists, prying them away from his head. His brows knitted together as he leaned back further in his chair, out of reach, glaring at Jimin. "I swear, I’ll kill you."

"There you are," Jimin said, a grin spreading across his face as he let out a sigh. He flopped back into his chair, dramatically wiping his brow as if the ordeal had been exhausting. "I was worried for nothing. Glad to see the real  grumpy, homicidal self's still here."

Before they could exchange any more words, you finally stepped forward, your knuckles rapping lightly on the doorframe.

Knock, knock.

The sound broke through, causing both their heads to snap in your direction.

For a moment, you felt rooted to the spot, like a deer caught in headlights. You tightened your grip on the file in your hands, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you felt. Clearing your throat, you finally stepped inside. "Sorry to interrupt," you said.

Jimin’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he tilted his head, gesturing toward the file. "It’s fine. Come in. Looks like someone’s got work to do, unlike us," he teased, his tone light.

You tried your best to force a smile onto your face—a polite, controlled, and friendly expression—but as your eyes met his. Your throat felt like it had closed up, your voice thin and wobbly. Why did he make you so nervous? Yes, he was intimidating. Yes, you’d dealt with difficult bosses before. But there was something about him—something that felt wrong, a shrill, intense warning in the back of your mind, like a distant alarm telling you danger was near.

Your heels clicked softly against the floor as you passed Jimin’s chair. He was sitting casually, his hands clasped behind his head, completely at ease as he looked over at you. You stopped beside Jungkook's desk, just behind where Jimin was sitting. "Mr. Jeon, I just finished the tasks you assigned." Your voice was soft but steady as you extended the file toward him. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, though it felt like staring into the eye of the devil. "Here’s the file. I’m leaving now, so I was wondering if there’s anything else you need before I go?"

Jungkook didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, slowly and precisely. His sharp gaze scanned your face, lingering on your forced smile before sliding down to the file you’d placed on his desk. A smirk curled at the corners of his lips, and his eyes—soft and doe-like at first glance—betrayed a sharp, predatory glint. "Actually," he drawled, his voice carried an edge that made your pulse quicken. He gestured lazily toward the towering stack of files on the far corner of his desk. "I do need something."

Your eyes widened as they darted to the stack, a silent gasp catching in your throat. The files seemed endless. You swallowed hard, glancing back at him, but his expression was unreadable. You couldn’t decide if you were more nervous or outright afraid of what was coming next. "See those files?" he continued, tilting his head slightly, his tone casual as if he were commenting on the weather. "I need them reviewed and sorted by tomorrow."

And you just stood there for a moment, trying to figure out whether you had a choice, or if you were already drowning. Tomorrow? That was impossible. You turned back to Jungkook, hoping to find some hint that he was joking, but his expression was calm and unyielding, like carved stone.

"I…" you began, but your voice faltered.

"Something wrong?" Jungkook asked, tilting his head slightly as if daring you to argue.

It was your first day, and you couldn’t understand what went wrong. You’d always thought Jungkook was handsome, admired him from the glossy pages of magazines and the distant buzz of news. You'd been excited, so excited to work for the most wanted bachelor in the continent. But now? Now, it wasn’t going as planned.

Too much work. Too much. How could anyone be expected to handle this much work? You thought you could handle challenges, but this? This felt impossible. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. You’d probably have to sell your soul to some demon and even then, it still wouldn’t feel enough. You couldn’t do this. You shouldn’t have to do this. But the thought of giving up? That wasn’t even an option. You wanted to scream. No. You didn't want to scream you wanted to kick him where the sun doesn't shine.

"To-tomorrow," you stammered, barely able to believe the words coming out of your mouth. You were close to snapping, but something in his gaze made you hesitate.

"Impossible?" Jungkook interrupted, his voice a low, smooth. His eyes locked on yours, the warmth in them replaced with ice. "I’m not interested in hearing any excuses. You need to understand where and for who you’re working. Workload is a usual thing here. You either do it or resign. It’s up to you. Nobody’s begging you to stay."

The words were harsh. There was no softness to them, no room for debate, no compromise. He wanted you to know that you had no power here. His small, smug smile confirmed it—a clear taunt, a game to him, and you could feel it deep in your bones. He wasn’t just being cold. No, he enjoyed this. He was tormenting you, and you knew it. He was such a sadistic being.

"Understood," you said, the words coming out of your mouth with a firmness that surprised even you.

You turned your back to him and grabbed the stack of files from where they were carelessly left. The moment you lifted them, you knew this was going to be hell. It was heavy—too heavy—far heavier than you’d expected. Your arms shook as you struggled to balance them. You almost stumbled under the sheer force of it, but you steadied yourself.

You bit your lip, fighting back the urge to ask Jimin for help. You glanced toward him, only to find that he and Jungkook were locked in a silent staring match, their gazes locked like two wolves sizing each other up.  Jimin looked like he was about to explode. You couldn’t drag him into this. He already looked like he was walking a thin line, and you didn’t want to add to the fire. Besides, Jimin looked angry enough already.

So, you started walking.

You struggled your way out of his office. Your legs wobbled under the weight, and you nearly stumbled into the doorframe as you tried to maintain your balance. You wanted to scream. You hated him. You hated everything about this. Him. His handsome face. His smug smile. His icy tone. His ridiculous expectations. In truth, you’d never felt this much resentment toward anyone. Not even your previous bosses had managed to push you this far. But Jungkook? He was something else entirely. A walking nightmare wrapped in a handsome package, and you were stuck in it.

The moment you stepped into your office, you slammed the door behind you. You were done. You were going home. You couldn’t wait to get out of here. You grabbed your bag and purse. You cursed under your breath, knowing you couldn’t leave without grabbing those files too. There was no way you were going to spend another minute in that sterile, over-designed office. You adjusted the files again, and with a final shake of your head, you stepped out of your office. Your feet moved on autopilot as you walked toward the elevators. You didn’t look back. There wasn’t any point.

You knew you’d have to come back.

You knew you’d have to face him again.

But for now, you needed to get out.

The first day had been hell, all thanks to your devilish boss.

Jungkook and Jimin stepped out of Jungkook’s office. Jimin shot a sharp glare at Jungkook, his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. Jungkook, on the other hand, wore a smug, teasing smile that danced at the corners of his mouth. He could feel Jimin’s annoyance and found it far too satisfying to ignore.

"Jiminshi," Jungkook said casually, but Jimin didn’t even give him a second glance, his jaw clenched as he exhaled sharply.

“Shut up,” Jimin snapped back without hesitation, the heat in his voice enough to make Jungkook pause for a second. It almost made him laugh, but he quickly held it back, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Come on, Jimin. We’re already late. And Jin hyung will be mad if we get even more late," Jungkook added, his tone light but carrying an edge of urgency. His smile was easy and easygoing, the kind that always got under Jimin’s skin, and this time, it did the trick. Jimin let out a slow, exasperated breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as he let his irritation simmer down. He nodded once, fingers gripping his phone a little too tightly. His hand flexed as he tucked it back into his pocket, his gaze fixed forward as they walked towards the elevator side by side.

Jungkook pushed the button to call the elevator, and Jimin stood next to him, arms crossed, still giving off that frustrated vibe. But Jungkook could see the edges of his irritation slowly dulling. Even if Jimin was pissed, he wouldn’t stay mad for long. Jimin was always the wise one, and he knew that getting upset over Jungkook's antics wouldn’t help anything. Jin had invited them for dinner tonight, and they both knew this wasn’t just another casual evening. Jimin had told Jin about you—how Jungkook couldn’t hear your thoughts, which still felt weird and foreign to him. It was strange, unsettling in a way, and Jin had wanted to discuss it. He’d called them both over, saying he needed to talk. Jungkook was curious about what Jin had in mind. It wasn’t every day that Jin invited them over, especially not without a reason.

The elevator doors opened, and Jungkook gestured for Jimin to enter first. Jimin grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. Jungkook stepped in behind him, and the two of them stood in silence. He was looking forward to the evening, not only to talk things out but also to meet Jin's wife. She was a kind and sweet woman. If it wasn't for Taehyung, they would have never met her. Jin had been married for years, but he rarely invited anyone over, keeping his personal life guarded. Jungkook and Jimin always looked forward to her company. Jin, on the other hand, was borderline obsessed with her. It was impossible not to notice the way he adored her. They all had to be on their best behavior when she was around, though—Jin’s protective streak was well known.

The elevator doors closed with a quiet swoosh. They descended in silence, the air feeling heavier as their thoughts swirled. Both knew this night would give them more answers, but they weren’t sure what kind of questions would arise afterward.

Jungkook and Jimin soon stepped into the reception area. The receptionist was seated at her desk, typing quickly, and her head lifted the moment she saw them. She offered a polite smile as they approached.

"Good evening, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park," she greeted warmly. Jungkook didn’t even spare her a glance. His eyes stayed ahead as he strode past her. He could hear her thoughts—granted, not every single word, but enough. Disgusting. Intrusive. He had no shame in admitting it. He didn’t feel the need to entertain it, so he ignored her completely.

Jimin, however, was different. His easy smile came naturally as he gave her a small, polite nod. His body language was relaxed, his movements smooth as he walked beside Jungkook toward the parking lot. His gaze was neutral, a simple act of kindness that contrasted sharply with Jungkook's indifference.

They reached the parking lot, and Jimin climbed into his car, his fingers gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. He had originally planned on making Jungkook drive, but the irritation bubbling in him from earlier—the way Jungkook had acted with you—made him rethink. He was annoyed, not just because of what happened, but because Jungkook’s behavior had crossed a line. It wasn’t professionalism; it was just unnecessary rudeness. Pure and simple. Jimin had half a mind to lecture him, but instead, he started the engine, the sound of it roaring to life filling the air.

But Jungkook didn’t get in his own car. His eyes weren’t on Jimin, nor were they on the road. They were locked on something—or rather, someone.

You.

You were standing by your car, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your head bowed slightly. Your shoulders looked tense, rigid, the way they always did when you were tired. You were clearly trying to calm yourself, but your lips were moving. You were speaking to yourself, or maybe the wind, but Jungkook could see it—your face contorted into something that looked like frustration, like rage.

He observed you. His body was suddenly heavy, his thoughts distracted. You looked like you wanted to set the entire parking lot on fire. From the way your hands tightened into fists by your sides, Jungkook could tell you were seething, clearly ready to explode. He couldn’t hear your thoughts, couldn’t read your mind like he could with everyone else, but it didn’t matter. Your expression was enough. You were cursing him out, he was sure of it.

It felt wrong to stare, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was like an itch buried beneath his skin. His entire body ached to know what you were saying, but you were like a closed book—impossible to read. It irritated him. That feeling of helplessness, the itch he couldn’t scratch. He hated not knowing exactly what you were thinking, hated that he couldn’t tap into the storm swirling behind those eyes. You looked like you wanted to strangle him, and the idea actually made him chuckle darkly to himself.

As much as he hated to admit it, there was something oddly magnetic about you. You looked so exhausted, so ready to shatter, your emotions playing across your face like an open book he couldn’t read. And that drove him insane. He wanted to know all of you. Every thought. Every word. Every secret. But he couldn’t. And it pissed him off.

His chest tightened as he studied you, his mind working in circles. Even though you looked like you were about to explode with frustration, there was a strange sense of calm that settled over him. Paradoxically, your anger—your confusion—was like a balm to his restless thoughts. His hands twitched at his sides.

And you, completely unaware of his gaze, kept muttering, your words too quiet for him to catch. The cold wind swayed your hair, and Jungkook wondered if you had any idea what you were doing to him. He hated that he cared. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to know.

He shifted his weight, a part of him wanting to walk away, but another part of him... couldn’t. He hated how curious he was about you. You were a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and that was something Jungkook couldn’t stand.

You suddenly turned your head, catching Jungkook’s eyes locked on you. Jungkook’s breath hitched. The shock of being caught sent a wave of heat through his chest. His eyes widened in alarm. Shit.

He knew. He knew you caught him. His face twisted into a mix of panic and frustration, and before he could overthink it, he whipped his head around, his heart pounding. He didn’t wait. He didn’t hesitate. He bolted into his car, yanked the door open, and slammed it shut behind him. Without looking back, the engine roared to life as he slammed his foot on the accelerator, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. He sped out of the parking lot, his focus darting between the road and his rearview mirror, where you were barely visible in the distance.

But before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, the heavens opened up. Rain poured down in sheets, soaking everything in an instant.

And then—he cursed.

He hated the rain. It always made him feel fragile, exposed, as though the world was pressing in on him in a way he couldn’t control. The sound of it pounding on the roof, the windshield, and the pavement—it was overwhelming, and it irritated him that he couldn’t understand why. It was stupid.

He glanced at the road, but Jimin’s car was nowhere to be seen. Of course, Jimin was probably already halfway there, and here he was, alone and soaked in this awful weather. His head was a mess, and his frustration felt tenfold. Great. He groaned, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. Perfect. The rain made it harder to see, the windshield wipers swishing furiously, but still, everything was blurry. Most people would’ve slowed down, maybe even pulled over. But Jungkook wasn’t like most people. So, he didn’t. His foot pressed harder against the gas, not caring about the storm that made the road slippery and hard to see.

Then, Jungkook’s eyes caught sight of Jimin’s car parked outside a convenience store, headlights flickering through the rain. He let out a soft, amused chuckle, shaking his head.

Typical Jimin.

Jimin was probably picking up some random snacks or an odd gift for Jin and his wife. The thought made him grin—what could you possibly find at a convenience store that would be good enough for dinner with Jin and his wife? Not much, he figured. But Jimin would always find a way to make things interesting. There was no way Jimin would have time to get something nice, and even if he did, Jin wouldn’t care. Namjoon wouldn’t even be there; he was off with his girlfriend. It was the kind of casual thing Jimin would do, and Jungkook was sure Taehyung along with Eunji (Namjoon's girlfriend's daughter) would tease him mercilessly about whatever he picked up. He could already imagine the scene: Jimin sulking, pretending to be annoyed, but secretly enjoying the attention. He spotted Jimin emerging from the door, an awkward bag in his hands, and he wondered what he had found.

But it wasn’t enough to make him stop. He didn’t want to be stuck in the rain any longer, so he pressed on, the road slick with water. The roads were empty. His headlights swept through the downpour, and the sound of his engine roared louder, mixing with the patter of the rain. The world felt gray and cold, and for a moment, he wondered if anyone else was even out here. His eyes darted, blinked twice, then three times in quick succession. A sharp flash of light broke through the downpour—streetlights, or headlights—too fast, too sudden. He squinted, trying to make sense of it, but his vision was useless against the storm.

Something’s coming.

Before he could react, he felt it. A sharp, sudden jolt as his car lost control. His hand gripped the wheel harder, his muscles tensed. He tried desperately to turn the steering wheel, left, right—anything to steady the car—but it felt as though the wheels had no grip at all. His breathing came out in short, sharp bursts.

And then it hit.

The sound was deafening—metal groaning, glass shattering. Jungkook’s body was thrown against the seat as the car twirled. He barely registered the impact before the airbag exploded in his face with a loud whoosh, his head slamming into it with force. His vision blurred, and the pain came, biting and sudden. His chest felt tight, his breaths shallow. The car spun—once, twice, thrice. His hands trembled against the steering wheel, and his head throbbed painfully. His heart felt as though it would pound out of his chest.

For a moment, everything went silent. He could feel his body shaking. His head swam, dizziness clouding his vision. His pulse raced as the rush of adrenaline hit, but then, fear—a feeling he rarely ever felt—took over. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. Not after Mr. Park took him in. Not after Jimin became his family. He wasn’t supposed to feel this vulnerable. But now, the sensation was loud and personal, crawling up to his heart, through his arms, and into his bones.

Jungkook's world spun around him, the blur of the rain and the crash fading into nothingness. Suddenly, time seemed to stop. The sound of the storm, the screeching tires, everything disappeared. He wasn’t in his car anymore. He wasn’t even on the road. No, he was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere warm.

He was seven again.

The leather seats were soft, comforting, and the scent of his mother’s perfume lingered in the air. The only sound was the soft hum of the engine, a calm contrast to the chaos he had just left behind. He glanced around. His father was driving, hands steady on the wheel, wearing his familiar cheeky smile. His mother sat beside him, head against the window, her gaze distant but peaceful. Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in the back seat, squeezed between the seatbelt and the door. His arms were crossed tightly, shoulders hunched in frustration, as he kept his head down to avoid their attention.

“Hun, how long until we get there?” his mother’s voice broke the calm, soft and uncertain, reaching his father’s ears. She turned her head toward him with a small smile, her face lit faintly by the dashboard glow.

Mr. Jeon turned toward her, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. He shot her a cheery look, his eyes soft with affection as he answered. “Quite,” was all he said, but there was a warmth in his voice that made her smile.

But then Mr. Jeon's eyes found him.

Jungkook was sitting in the backseat, his little arms crossed tightly over his chest, his puffy cheeks flushed red. His head was turned toward the window, a frown tugging at his lips.

"What happened, Jung?" His father asked gently, voice full of care.

Jungkook’s gaze flickered up to meet his father's eyes, but he didn’t speak. Jungkook just huffed, his lip curling slightly, trying to hold back more tears. His arms tightened around himself, his small body so tense it seemed like he was trying to disappear into the seat. His eyes welled up again, and he sniffled, looking away.

“He don’t want to go.” Mrs. Jeon whispered softly, her voice light but firm, as though she’d been trying to ease the situation for some time. She shifted in her seat, her hands lightly brushing her white Chanel dress.

"I know that," Mr. Jeon said with a soft chuckle, his eyes flicking back to Jungkook. "But why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Mrs. Jeon shrugged her shoulders, turning toward her husband with a helpless smile, her eyes glinting faintly with understanding. “You know how shy he is,” she whispered to him, just loud enough for him to hear but not Jungkook. Her voice was soft and wrapped in familiarity, like a gentle assurance.

Mr. Jeon chuckled softly, nodding in understanding. He then turned his attention back to Jungkook, his smile wide and encouraging. “But Taehyung will be there, too. Don’t you want to play with your hyung?” he teased, wiggling his brows playfully as he spoke.

Jungkook’s expression twisted with irritation. He pouted even more, his arms folding tighter across his chest. “No,” he snapped, his voice a little louder than before. “No, Taehyungie.” He refused to even look at his father, turning his head toward the window. His little hands balled into fists at his sides as he sat there.

Mr. Jeon froze for a moment at Jungkook’s sudden outburst. His eyes widened briefly as he glanced back at his son in the rearview mirror, but he let it go. He wasn’t angry—he never was with his son—but the outburst was unexpected. Jungkook wasn’t one to open up easily, and Mr. Jeon understood that. It wasn’t that Jungkook disliked Taehyung; he just couldn’t handle him. Taehyung was too much—too loud, too dramatic, too confident for Jungkook’s liking. His endless antics and unshakable charm always rubbed Jungkook the wrong way. It was easier for Jungkook to retreat into his shell than to deal with someone like Taehyung. Jungkook preferred the quiet, the safety of his own thoughts, while Taehyung was none of those things.

“Park uncle and his son are coming too. You wanted to meet Park uncle’s son?” Mr. Jeon tried again, his voice light and filled with gentle encouragement. He glanced back briefly, his brow furrowed slightly. He wanted Jungkook to at least be excited.

They were heading toward the Kim mansion for a grand party. A formal event with a lot of people, glittering dresses, and chatter. The kind of place where smiles felt like currency and charm was the language. It was important because their families shared good relationships with the Kim's. It was a social obligation.

But Jungkook didn’t bite. His gaze fixed on the rain streaking down the window. He pressed his cheek harder against the cold glass, the coolness against his skin doing little to ease the rising frustration in his chest. He wasn’t interested. His father’s words barely registered in his mind. The whole idea of going to a big event, the crowded space, the noise—it all just felt overwhelming.

“No,” Jungkook muttered, his voice tight, almost as if he were trying to seal off any further conversation. He could feel his father’s eyes on him, but he didn’t care. He didn't want to go. Not to meet Park Uncle’s son. Not to that party. Not anywhere. He wanted to stay home. He hated people. All of them. Parties. Crowds. They made his skin crawl. Even though Park uncle was always kind and brought him chocolate, even though he was gentle and easy to talk to, it didn’t matter. Meeting his son was a thought that felt like a chore.

Mr. Jeon’s face softened with a small, exasperated sigh. He turned his head, catching his wife’s eye for a brief moment. Mrs. Jeon gently tapped his arm, urging him to stop pushing Jungkook. But Mr. Jeon didn’t listen. He could see his son’s discomfort and it worried him. He wasn’t going to let it slide this time.

“Son, listen,” he began, trying again with more patience, his voice firm but not unkind. “You should—”

But his words were cut short by the sudden screech of tires and a blinding flash of headlights, too bright, too fast. Then—boom. Something slammed into their car, a deafening crash that shook everything around him. The impact tore through them, sending the car off the road. The world spun wildly, glass shattered, metal twisted, and screams filled the air. His head smacked against the seatbelt, his shoulders pulled hard by the force as the car twisted and turned like a broken toy. His arms flailed, his hands gripping at anything they could find, but there was nothing.

Finally, the car came to a violent stop and everything felt eerily quiet. The sound of the engine sputtering, the hiss of rain, and the faint, dull ringing in his ears filled his senses. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, but his head spun. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. His chest was tight, his breath shallow. Through his blurred vision, he saw it—them. Blood streaked his vision, dark and warm as it trickled into his eyes from a gash on his forehead. His breath came in short, broken pants. He couldn’t see clearly—everything felt distorted, red, and wrong.  His mother was there. Her body was twisted, crumpled, unnatural, and there was so much blood. Everywhere but specially beneath her.

“Mom…” he whispered, his voice broken, a thin, desperate sound. His lips trembled, his head shaking as though he could will it away, but the horror wouldn’t leave. His small hands gripped at his seatbelt again, his fingers sticky, his face soaked with rain and fear. All he knew was that his mother was hurt, she was bleeding and wasn't moving.  No, no, no… His chest ached, a desperate pain that he couldn’t understand.

His eyes shifted to his father, still breathing, but barely. His father’s chest rose weakly, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead, and Jungkook’s heart twisted in his chest. “Dada…” His voice cracked, the sound barely more than a whimper as he reached out for his father, his small hands pressing against the seat. The fear was suffocating, but the pain of seeing his father so helpless, so close to slipping away, was worse. His body shook uncontrollably, his tiny frame trying to fight the overwhelming terror that threatened to swallow him whole.

The silence felt unbearable. Everything around him felt like a blur, yet every detail was all real and painstrikingly cruel. His hands trembled, his body shaking, his chest aching as he waited—desperately—for some kind of answer. But before his father could respond, figures emerged from the darkness dressed in black uniforms that glistened faintly under the rain. Their presence felt wrong, but the night itself was nothing if wasn't sinful. Jungkook’s head spun, his ears ringing painfully. The sound was distorted, every word like a distant, broken whisper. But the fragments came through, jagged and broken.

“And, it’s done... Wasn't much. Let him suffer.”

Jungkook visibly flinched at their words, his heart hammering against his ribcage. His ears rang painfully, making it hard to hear, but the fragments reached him like poison.

“He denied boss, after all.”

"Hmm, all he needed was that file. Black orchid project's file."

 "Yeah, stupid motherfucker." They turned to leave, but then one of them paused, looking back at Mr. Jeon’s bloody form, a sinister smile creeping across his face. “You know, since you’re dying anyways, let me tell you something… we found her. We got the first kid from the Black Orchid project. And with her, we’ll get them all. And with you dead, who will stop us.”

Their laughter was cruel and hollow, echoing in the stillness like nails scraping across the floor. Jungkook’s chest tightened, and his stomach churned, bile rising in his throat as they disappeared into the rain. The words haunted him, swirling in his mind, but before he could process them, another sound broke through—the sound of his father’s breath.

Mr. Jeon’s body shifted, his chest rising and falling in labored, shallow breaths. His tear-streaked face twisted with pain as his eyes met Jungkook’s, the weight of everything crashing down in those last, fleeting moments. “Jungkook…” His voice was raw, barely a whisper, but it carried so much guilt that it felt like it could suffocate him. “I’m so sorry, my boy… this… this is all because of me.”

“Dada…” His voice was cracked, shaky, the fear rising in his chest like a storm. His hand reached out instinctively, trembling, but it fell short, his small fingers grazing the air instead of his father’s skin.

Just as Jungkook’s vision began to blur, another sound broke through the haze—the screech of tires and the distant sound of shoes splashing through the rain. Relief flickered faintly in his chest. Someone was coming. But his blurry gaze couldn’t make out who it was.

A pair of feet appeared before him, followed by the frantic sound of someone running, slipping in the rain as they skidded to a halt next to the wreckage.

 It was Mr. Park, panting, his face pale with shock as he took in the horror before him.

Mr. Park dropped to his knees beside the wreckage, his hands trembling as they hovered over the twisted metal, unable to focus on anything but the devastation before him. His breath hitched in his chest as his gaze fell on Mrs. Jeon’s crumpled, lifeless form, and the tears welled up instantly, blurring his vision. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. All he could manage was a broken, “Oh, my... How… what?” His gaze settled on Jungkook’s mother, crumpled and lifeless in the front seat, and his breath hitched. His hands gripped the cold, wet metal of the car, his entire body shaking as he fought the overwhelming wave of fear and sorrow threatening to drown him.

“Hang on! I’ll get you both out, I promise!” His voice cracked as he spoke, his hands fumbling against the seatbelt, desperate to pull them free.

But Mr. Jeon, with great effort, shook his head. His face was pale, slick with sweat, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but the words cut through the chaos. “No... no... listen to me.” He coughed, his body convulsing from the effort, and blood spattered onto his chest. “I... I won’t be able to make it out of here. Take Jungkook... get him out... and raise him. There’s no one else I trust more than you, Park. You’re like a brother to me. Please... take care of him... like he’s your own.”

Mr. Park’s eyes filled with tears, and he squeezed them shut for a moment, trying to push back the wave of grief threatening to drown him. His chest tightened, and his voice cracked as he fought to keep it steady. “I will. I promise. But don’t say that, we can still—”

“No…” Mr. Jeon’s voice was barely a whisper now, weak and distant, almost drowned out by the rain. The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips, but it quickly disappeared as he coughed, blood staining his mouth. “It’s too late for me… just save him. Please.”

Mr. Park’s hand trembled as it hovered over Mr. Jeon’s, and he nodded, his lips trembling. He wasn’t ready to accept this, but he knew there was no choice. “I’ll take him,” he whispered. “I’ll take him, I promise.”

With trembling hands, Mr. Park unbuckled Jungkook, his heart breaking at the sight of the boy’s tear-streaked face, pale and bloodied. The tiny body was limp in his arms, and he fought to hold back his own tears, knowing it wouldn’t help. Jungkook’s head lolled against his shoulder, eyes barely open, blinking with confusion and fear, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

“I’ve got you,” Mr. Park whispered, his voice rough with emotion, his arms tightening around Jungkook as he lifted him from the wreckage. Jungkook’s head rested against his chest, the faintest stir of breath against his skin. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, though he knew nothing about this could ever be okay. If anything, he himself didn't trust his words. They felt hollow.

“I’ll be back to get you. And I’ll get you out too, just hang there,” he said, his voice final, desperate, and certain. His hands trembled as he cradled Jungkook against his chest, his gaze flickering back toward Mr. Jeon, whose eyes were barely open. Mr. Park wasn't sure if he was even capable enough to fulfil that promise, but at that moment, it was all he could offer; it was all he had left.

Mr. Jeon’s eyes fluttered, a faint nod the only response he could manage. His body had grown so still, but the tear streaked face, the way his lips trembled, said everything. He knew it was a promise that wouldn’t be kept—but he nodded anyway, and the last bit of hope faded in the silence of the wreckage. With one final glance, Mr. Park turned, his arms cradling Jungkook against him, as he ran toward safety, the boy’s limp body a stark contrast to the life and pain surrounding them. The rain continued to pour, and with each step, it felt like the world was slipping further away.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered weakly as he was carried to Mr. Park’s car. His small body felt light and cold against the older man’s chest. Inside the vehicle, Jimin sat in the backseat, his wide eyes staring at the scene before him. His small hands gripped the edge of his seat tightly, his knuckles pale in the dim glow of the headlights. When Mr. Park placed Jungkook beside him, Jimin’s shock melted into a visible concern. His little face was a mix of worry and gentleness as he shifted closer, his small body trembling slightly. Without hesitation, he wrapped his tiny arms around Jungkook, pulling him into a hug. The warmth of Jimin’s embrace was so soft, so comforting, but it felt like it wasn’t enough.

“Don’t cry… it’s okay, don’t cry,” Jimin whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he pulled Jungkook closer. Jungkook’s eyes burned, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. His throat was tight, his chest hollow with loss. The last thing he felt before the world around him went black was Jimin’s arms, holding him tight, and the warmth that felt fragile, like a thread ready to snap.

Meanwhile, Mr. Park’s hands were shaking, his desperation choking his every movement as he turned back to the wreck. His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted toward the flames, but he didn’t make it. Before he could even reach the wreckage, the explosion erupted in a violent wave, the flames licking at the sky as they consumed the car. The explosion rocked the ground beneath him, the heat so intense it scorched his skin, and the rain didn’t do a thing to stop the inferno. The sound of the blast echoed in his chest, and for a moment, Mr. Park stood frozen, his body trembling from the shock, the image of his closest friend burning into his mind.  His breath caught in his throat, his heart twisted painfully, but he couldn’t move. He watched as the fire consumed everything—everything he had hoped to save. The rain poured harder, but it was useless against the inferno.

And just like that, Jungkook lost everything in one brutal, cruel instant. His mind hung on that moment, the crackling fire and the unyielding rain swallowing it all. The sound of the explosion still rang in his ears as he was pulled from the memory. Another sharp, blinding flash of light cut through his closed eyelids, yanking him out of his haze. His head throbbed painfully, the beat of his pulse a steady rhythm that seemed to match the aching in his skull.

A car screeched to a halt in front of him, the sound cutting through the fog in his mind like a blade. For a moment, he thought it was Jimin. But that couldn’t be right—Jimin was way behind him, far away from this mess, in a safe place. How could he have gotten ahead so fast? Jungkook’s thoughts came fast and fragmented. His breaths came quicker, his hands trembling harder as his body tensed with uncertainty.

What was happening? Was it Jimin? Was it someone else? His mind felt fractured, his body unable to respond. His body felt paralysed, useless.

The driver stepped out into the downpour, his black uniform drenched in seconds, but he moved forward with an unsettling calm. The sight of the uniform—it was like a switch had been flipped inside Jungkook. But his thoughts were too scattered, too foggy, to make sense of it. The closer the man got, the louder the buzz in Jungkook’s head grew, like lightening sissling through his skull. It was unbearable. His hands flew to his temples, fingers digging in desperately, but the pain only intensified. A low, broken groan escaped his throat.

Without warning, a loud, brutal crash shattered the silence. The man had smashed the car window. The sound tore through his body like a physical blow, breaking his fragile focus. His eyes flew open just as he felt the sting of broken glass. The shards flying like tiny stars of pain that bit into his skin. Before Jungkook could even flinch, a rough hand wrapped around his collar and yanked him from the seat. He was dragged out into the downpour, the cold, icy rain slamming into his face, washing away the blood. The cold slapped against his skin like a thousand tiny knives, but he was too weak to react. His limbs were heavy, his body numb, as if it wasn’t even his own. He couldn’t fight back. The man dragged him across the slick road like he weighed nothing, and with a brutal toss, he was slammed onto the wet pavement. His body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and the cold, muddy water instantly soaked through his clothes, seeping into his bones.

He forced himself to push up or at least he tired. His hands trembled, weak and brittle, but he couldn’t hold himself. His body gave out, and he collapsed back into the mud with a helpless, wet sound. His face turned upward, the rain blurring his vision, every droplet a sharp needle that dug into his skin. His chest heaved, his breaths coming in shallow bursts, but the pain in his skull, his limbs, and his chest refused to go away. Jungkook tried again, his body shaking harder this time. His head swayed from side to side as he struggled, but the rain felt endless, each droplet pounding into him, each one deeper, colder, meaner. His heartbeat was an erratic drumbeat in his chest, thudding against his ribs like it might give out at any moment. His vision remained a hazy blur—everything was grey, wet, and cold, and the pounding in his skull grew stronger with every heartbeat.

Jungkook’s eyes fought to stay open, his vision blurring more with each passing second, but the shape of the man in front of him became clearer. The man in the black uniform loomed over him, a dark, shifting figure that blurred in the rain. His face was a shadow, but the smirk on his lips was cruel and clear.

The man’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched Jungkook struggle beneath him, barely able to lift himself up on one elbow. His hand gripped the gun with a steady, deadly calm, and as he crouched down, water splashed from his chin, droplets falling onto Jungkook’s face. “Look at you,” he sneered, voice dripping with mockery, “pathetic. No high and mighty prince now, huh? Where’s your guard dog to save you?”

Jungkook’s chest heaved in ragged breaths, his heart hammering in his ribcage. He could feel the weight of his body dragging him further into the puddle, the cold seeping into his bones, but his muscles were too weak to fight back. His hand twitched, desperately trying to reach for something—anything—to push himself up, but it shook violently, unable to get any purchase. He gritted his teeth, eyes clouded with pain and dizziness, unable to respond, unable to do anything but lie there and take it.

“today was my lucky day, I guess,”  he laughed.

“You’ve been a thorn in our side for too long,” the man continued, his voice dropping lower as he straightened, standing taller. His form was solid and imposing, his boots kicking mud as he took a step back. The gun rose, glinting under the pale light of the streetlamps. The barrel was cold, steady, and pointed directly at Jungkook’s chest.

“Time to put you out of your misery, kid. Join mommy and daddy. I wager... You’ve been dying to.” A cold sweat broke out across Jungkook’s skin even in shrill rain, and for a brief moment, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, flicking between the gun and the man’s mocking face, terror clawing at him from the inside. His chest tightened, his body frozen as the world spun around him, and he tried once more to move, to escape, but his legs were useless, as if the earth beneath him was swallowing him whole. All that remained was the sharp, unrelenting noise of the rain and the sickening sound of the man’s finger inching toward the trigger.

Jungkook’s body went rigid as the man’s words echoed in his mind. His heart thundered in his chest as the memories of his parents flooded him—their lifeless eyes, the blood staining the night, the terror that gripped him then and now. His hands, slick with cold rain, shook uncontrollably as he stared at the barrel of the gun. His throat constricted, but no words came out—only a choked sob that was lost in the downpour.

The man’s grin widened, cruel and savage, as he inched his finger toward the trigger. Jungkook could see the gleam in his eyes, the satisfaction of finally having the power to take everything from him. The laughter in his voice was sharp, like glass scraping against his skin, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he squeezed the trigger.

"Goodbye, Jeon Jungkook."

The gunshot shattered the night—louder than the storm, louder than the pounding in Jungkook's ears. For a brief, agonizing moment, the world seemed to stop. The rain paused in midair, hanging like frozen tears, the wind silenced as if holding its breath. Jungkook felt the world tilt beneath him, and his body instinctively braced for the impact that was supposed to come.

a/n: So, how’d you guys like it? Hate it? Loved it? I need the feedback, break me, but like... gently, okay? I’m fragile and I’ll cry, like, on the spot. But honestly, there might be some grammatical disasters in there. Why? Because I got sick and just didn’t have the energy to do much editing work on it. So yeah, don’t judge me too hard, I’m basically a walking disaster right now. Also, I really hope you still love Jungkook after reading this. Please don’t hate him. Show him some love. And, like, show me some too, because my ego is starving. Tell me how amazing it was (or, like, pretend it was) and boost my fragile little ego, okay? I need it. Love ya, guys!

[solxamber]

Helloo, I absolutely love you writing! Your understanding of the twst characters’ personalities is phenomenal 😭❤️

May I request both Ace and Malleus crushing on reader simultaneously, and both are aware that the other likes reader (reader is oblivious hehe). Ace gets super insecure since he isn’t powerful nor of royal status and believes there’s no way he can compete against him, meanwhile Malleus gets super jealous since Ace has been friends with reader ever since and is the most close with him.

Ace x Reader x Malleus (Love Triangle)

a/n: the giggle i let out when i saw this!! such a fun concept and thank you so much 🫶🫶

It started with a normal day: you laughing at one of Ace's jokes, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind you. The storm in question was Ace and Malleus glaring daggers at each other over your oblivious head.

Ace was slouched in his chair, shooting side-eyes at the imposing figure standing too close to your desk. Why does he have to hover like that? he thought bitterly. Malleus, for his part, was casting pointed glances at Ace’s casual posture, as if silently saying, Is this the best you can do?

Neither could deny the truth. They were both hopelessly, tragically in love with you. And they both knew it.

Ace prided himself on being the guy you could count on for a laugh. But today, he was on a mission: show you how amazing he was.

“So, anyway,” he said loudly during your study session in the library, “I totally aced—get it?—my magic exam. Got full marks.” He leaned back smugly, hoping you’d be impressed.

Malleus, who had been quietly sitting nearby (because of course he was), looked up. “Impressive, Ace Trappola. But I suppose it pales in comparison to wielding centuries-old magic and commanding legions of loyal subjects.”

Ace choked on his own smugness. “Yeah, well, I bet you don’t even know how to mix a potion without turning it into swamp goo, huh?”

“Actually, I mastered potion-making at a young age. I created an elixir capable of reviving withered flora.”

“Cool, cool. Can you tell me how any of that helps the prefect with our history homework?” Ace shot back, leaning closer to you.

Malleus frowned. “History is one of my strongest subjects.”

“Oh my Seven—” Ace groaned and threw his hands up. “We get it. You’re ancient!”

You looked between them, confused. “Are you two okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Malleus said smoothly.

“Great! I was just explaining history to Deuce,” Ace lied shamelessly.

Lunch was another battlefield. Ace had secured a seat next to you and was recounting a funny story involving Grim, a mop, and a very angry caterpillar monster.

“…and then Grim screamed so loud, I think half the campus heard him! Right, Prefect?” Ace said, nudging you.

Before you could respond, the shadow of a tall figure fell over the table.

“Malleus,” Ace said with a forced grin. “Didn’t see you there. Like, at all.”

“I thought I would join you,” Malleus said, sitting directly across from you, his gaze unwavering. “Do you require assistance with your meal? Perhaps I could conjure something more fitting for your taste.”

“Okay, that’s just cheating,” Ace muttered under his breath.

“Conjuring food is a skill that requires great control,” Malleus said casually. “It’s a shame some rely solely on mediocre cafeteria fare.”

“Oh, so now the chicken nuggets aren’t good enough for you?” Ace snapped.

“They lack refinement,” Malleus said.

“Yeah? Well, you lack… I dunno, vibes!” Ace countered.

You blinked. “Ace, are you okay? You’re yelling about chicken nuggets.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” Ace mumbled, shoving a nugget in his mouth to shut himself up.

The tension boiled over during a school festival. There was a dance competition, and both Ace and Malleus signed up for one reason: to win your attention.

Ace went first, pulling off a routine filled with flashy moves that he definitely stole from a popular video. The crowd cheered, and you clapped the loudest.

“Not bad, right?” Ace said, slightly out of breath but grinning. “Bet I’m the first guy you’ve seen dance like that.”

Before you could respond, Malleus stepped onto the stage.

“I shall now perform a traditional dance of my homeland,” he announced.

It was graceful, mesmerizing, and undeniably magical—literally. The lights dimmed, and green flames swirled around him as he moved with perfect precision. The crowd was silent, utterly captivated.

Ace stood next to you, slack-jawed. “I… I can’t compete with that.”

You turned to him with a smile. “I thought your dance was amazing too.”

Ace lit up like a firework. “Y-Yeah? You mean that?”

Malleus, mid-spin, glanced at you both. His expression darkened.

Eventually, the competition escalated to new heights of absurdity. Ace baked you cookies, only to find out Malleus had hand-carved you a jewelry box. Malleus enchanted roses to bloom eternally, and Ace countered by organizing a surprise karaoke night with all your favorite songs.

But when you tripped and both of them scrambled to catch you, the ridiculousness reached its peak.

“You caught their hand,” Malleus said, an edge to his voice.

“And you caught their other hand!” Ace snapped.

You, still mid-air, sighed. “Can someone just catch me completely next time?”

Despite their antics, one thing was clear: they both adored you. And while their rivalry was exasperating, it was also… kind of sweet.

Well, for you, anyway. For them? Not so much.

Masterlist

[princessbrunette]

i feel like jj would be the type to talk biiig in front of his friends. like he’d be like “yeah, i wear the pants man, nobody can boss me around.” or “i make my own rules, live my own life. ain’t no girl gonna change that.” or just makes comments about how big and bad he is, only for reader to show up and make it known that it’s the complete opposite. like maybe they’re at a party or something, and he’s talking to john b and pope. and reader shows up and is like “jayj, let’s go, i’m tired.” and he’s like “okay, baby. bye guys.” without hesitation, quick to follow her out 😭

⋆ ˚🍥 ⁀➴

he’d finally become self aware of this one day, and he’d kind of freak out — in every other aspect of his life, he has to have some kind of control. control makes him feel safe, but with you — he’ll do anything you ask him and he knows that. to him, he wonders if that makes him weak, more susceptible to being hurt.

he’s scared, so now he’s pacing the chateau, john b watching him with a concerned yet amused expression and folded arms, watching his best friend pace as he leans against the table.

“and — and i dunno man! i haven’t been in this situation before like, i don’t know what this feeling is. she says jump, i say how high? she says swim i say how far? she says stop i say hammertime, dude this is bad!” he rips his hat off, running a hand through his messy blonde tresses as john b chuckles, pushing himself off the table he leant against to take the blonde by the shoulders.

“dude, you’re in love. it’s okay, it’s — it’s a great thing!”

“i know it’s a great thing, genius— i’m just scared, because — i mean i’m happy, for once like super happy like disgustingly happy, and now she has the power to just… rip that away from me.” he settles, wringing his hat in his hands as he drops down onto the armchair, heaving out a sigh.

“jj, look at me.” john b commands, and the blonde reluctantly flickers his eyes towards him. “thats the point. the risk is… everything. just… let it happen brother.” he presses his lips together in a smug smile, seeing his best friend fall to the loverboy antics that john b himself usually falls victim to. jj nods, shoving the hat back on his head.

“pro’lly right. dude you should have warned me about this shit! m’going in blind here!”

“oh yeah, okay. so it’s my fault you’re pussywhipped. got it.”

⋆ ˚🍥 ⁀➴

[ronearoundblindly]

I have an idea for “how would…” !

It comes from a prank I’m seeing on tiktok lately of couples staying in a hotel room with 2 beds.

How would the guys react to reader saying they can sleep in separate beds tonight? 😆

Inspo: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP81dBS8k/

That's freaking hilarious, the link, but we've got lots of babes to cover! (Also...guess who realized Jake was missing from the banner? 😳👈 This doof.)

Warnings for, well, discussing couples and bed/bedtime activities but it's not real bad. MINORS DNI to be safe!

James Mace

You know what's tiny? A space bunk. He will starfish like a mothaf**ker on that queen size, and you gotta just give him that from time to time. If the stay in the hotel is just one night (and there's been no other time away from you recently), absolutely he will stretch out, pillows everywhere, each limb under a separate layer,--seriously though why are there nine layers of blankets and sheets? that's nuts--and no alarm if at all possible. However, if the stay is longer or the hotel is for a specific couple's vacation thing, then no, he would never spend a whole night outside of your bed. Maybe a nap after too much sun, or likely some space if he (or you) is feeling ill, but otherwise, Mace is very good at sharing resources with people he likes.

Curtis Everett

Oof. I really had to think about this guy. Some of Mace applies here, too, but Curtis likes the idea of having extra room far more than he likes using the room. I think he would try to fall asleep in the other bed for whatever reason, and then inevitably just crawl back in with you. He has never made it a whole night away, even if he falls asleep on the couch at home. He always has to be within arm's reach by the time you wake up.

Jimmy Dobyne

No. Nope. Not in the slightest.

He doesn't particularly like waste, so he might call down to see if there is a room with just one bed available, in case some other guests could use the two. Jimmy also hates the fuss of cleaning. He's acutely aware of how much effort would go into remaking the second bed (washing, etc) and won't even put things on top of the unused bed for the whole stay. Not your bag. Not your butt. Not a towel. Nada.

Johnny Storm

Few quick questions: this hotel is fireproof, right? The bedding, okay, but what about the carpet? The curtains? Are the headboards made of wood? Is the varnish flammable? You don't know? Shit, well, he needs to know.

I feel like Johnny has to have like a special tarp thing to lay over normal bed linens, but honestly, I can't really see how he's ever safe to sleep outside of his own customized bedroom. People do not have complete control while they are unconscious. That's super dangerous for folks like Johnny. Reed's fine because what's the worst that could happen, his foot actually hangs off the edge of the mattress? If we were talking about Ben, the weight-capacity would be a concern, too, so even if you are fine to sleep in the same bed as Johnny and sometimes get burned a bit...I...I'm just not convinced a hotel would want extraneous furniture in there.

That's not a sexy answer, but it's the one you're getting.

Jake Jensen

Dude can fall asleep any. where. any. time. However, if he is lucid enough to pick where he'll fall asleep, it will always be with you...

...after hysterically jumping around like a kid on the extra bed.

I'll just, yeah, leave you with that image. Have fun. Stay weird, Jake.

Lloyd Hansen

If you two are actively doing something--yes, of course, I mean sex or sexual acts or whatever nasty word Lloyd wants to call it--then you are in the same...general area. That's not limited to a bed.

For sleeping, real sleeping, separate beds are 99% of the time a must. There is one exception to this: if Lloyd has been worn out or injured badly on a job--which is so rare--and if it's not quite bad enough to be in a hospital hooked to machines to keep him alive, then he becomes a sort of energy leech and keeps you very close all the time. This is Lloyd's vampire phase. As you can probably deduce, it is not about you, but he will take whatever he can from you.

Ari Levinson

50/50. Ari is moody. He changes with the wind (not in a bad way but for all the small, subtle stuff), and he sometimes just fancies a bit of something different. Take that as you will--and by that I mean run with it because I am totally talking about all sorts of different things to do in bed. He's the type of man who does better with a bit of alone time, too. Never means any offense by it. Just has spells of needing socializing and needing quiet.

Ransom Drysdale

Literally, I feel like I always have the same answer for Ran: it depends on when this is in your relationship and what the hotel stay is for.

Early on in dating, he aires on the side of caution and goes by his mood and yours. If there's been frustration in the day--due to his family or work or anything--then maybe you need some space. When Ransom is in a relationship, for real, he's actually very attuned to the tone of sex--which, of course, will happen no matter the mood of the day--so a lot of connection and intimacy will tell him it's good to stay close while a simpler, transactional need to get off tells him the other bed might be best.

Ran, however, would not get--or enjoy--the 'prank' of this challenge, and stop goddamn filming him for tiktok!

Steve Rogers

Pardon my language, but are you fucking kidding? The look on Steve's face if you so much as hinted... His head would immediately be spinning with 'what did I do wrong?' and 'what romantic gesture can I make right here right now to fix it?'

He's a simple man, and that is a simple no.

Bucky Barnes

Trickier. Much trickier.

Hmm. How to explain...

This feels like a whole season of 'What If...?' but I'll try to simplify.

Are you an Avenger or agent? Are you two on a mission together? I think Bucky is hardcore about keeping sharp and professional during those times. Sleep shifts. Minimal touching. The whole nine yards because safety is paramount. Is there some reason there could be surveillance of you two and you're supposed to be a couple? Bucky can put on one hell of a show like that. Just saying. I doubt, however, that he would mix business and pleasure unless absolutely necessary.

Are you a civilian? Is he a civilian now? Then no, he's in that one bed holding you until the second (maybe third) snooze cycle rings on his alarm. He's notorious for giving himself cushions of time, so it's never him needing to rush out on the average day. It took a while to adjust, but Buck can now also vacation with the best of them. Takes advantage of all the bells and whistles: minibar, room service, and the 'do not disturb' sign. Champion vacationer, he is, of this I have no doubt.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Mace is a sleeper fave of mine, and I would do anything for that man, I swear... Also, would someone like to tell me why Bucky gets soooo 🥵 in all of these. My god, what am I feeding that boi?

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Asks; Ko-Fi]

[tazzertopia]

phantom troupe negative traits/habits hcs

*i’m aware that being thieves and murderers are already pretty negative traits but this is more related to their personality 😊😊😊

-

chrollo

-unintentionally can sound super sarcastic and condescending

-like if he’s explaining something the cadence of his voice might sound like he’s mocking you, when in reality he just sounds like that

-if you’re in a pissy mood and he’ll ask what’s wrong it kinda sounds sarcastic ?????

-he’ll see you crying and be like:

“are you okay? what’s up?”

and you’ll kinda just be like 🤨🤨🤨 i’m literally crying ???????? what do you MEAN “what’s up?”

-he’ll apologise for sounding sarcastic but he was genuinely asking

-the troupe knows that’s just how he sounds but anyone who doesn’t know him that well just thinks he’s being a prick

shalnark

-literally has zero social awareness

-considering he sees other people as toys, he doesn’t give a single fuck about randos in public

-he’s the type to have a loud conversation on speakerphone on a busy, crowded train filled to the brim with tired people who just got off their 9-5 and want to go home 💔

“hello? yeah, of course i can talk! so today i was-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP”

“…..anyways so-“

-is always confused as to why people are glaring at him but like i said, he really couldn’t give one

-he also probably sees someone who’s about to doze off or looks visibly irritated and will make it his mission to piss them off as much as possible and strike up a conversation with them

phinks

-extremely sore loser

-if you’re playing a game with him (like mario kart) and he’s about to lose, he will walk away right then and there and quit

-will claim the game is rigged and that’s why he was about to lose (if he wins, he will rub it in and tell you to just improve at the game)

-the troupe audibly groans whenever he asks to join in when they play video games

-one time he unplugged the tv when he lost a game against feitan and shalnark (if he doesn’t win, NOBODY gets to win)

-will claim the other person cheated if he loses

“COME ON!! SHALNARK PROBABLY HACKED THE GAME OR SOMETHING, MAKING ME LOSE!”

“…have you ever considered that maybe you just suck at the game?”

*throws remote at tv*

-just let him win if you want to have a easy breezy life

uvogin

-absolutely zero volume control

-he’s loud in public, but he’s completely unaware how loud he’s being

-this also makes him the worst person to tell secrets to

*pspspspswhisperwhisperwhisper*

“YOU THINK HIS HAIRLINE LOOKS LIKE THE MCDONALDS SYMBOL?”

everyone is staring. the man with the weird hairline you tried to whisper to uvo about is staring. you are extremely embarrassed. you want the ground to swallow you whole.

-to add insult to injury, he also points.

-because of this, it’s super easy to tell when he’s talking about you because he will yell AND point

-he doesn’t gaf who hears

shizuku

-the most brutally honest person you’ll ever meet

-doesn’t sugarcoat anything

-it’s not like she wants to hurt your feelings, but she just doesn’t see the point in beating around the bush or lying

-if she thinks you look fat in something, she’ll tell you. if she thinks you don’t suit a certain colour, she’ll tell you. if she thinks your cooking tastes like actual dookie left out to cook in the desert sun, she will not hesitate to tell you.

-she also will not apologise if she hurts your feelings

-“why do i need to apologise for being honest?”

-she is winning the idgaf war 100%

-will probably forget what she said as well, which makes it worse

feitan

-rather than ask to borrow something of yours like a normal person, he will steal it and then proceed to gaslight you when you confront him about it

-makes sense for him due to his ‘thieves take what they want’ mentality

-will have you convinced that your memory is patchy

“feitan where the fuck are are my scissors?”

“beats me.”

“i know you took them.”

“did not.”

“they were on the counter like five minutes ago and you’re the only one in here”

“no they weren’t.”

-this will carry on until you admit you were wrong for accusing him, or you just drop it

-occasionally he will start drama with the other troupe members by stealing their shit (usually phinks) and making it seem like someone else did it

nobunaga

-quite possibly the most indecisive man you’ll ever meet

-you’d much rather prefer to get sentenced to eternal torture at guantanamo bay than have to ask nobunaga what restaurant he wants to go to later tonight

-“my mind will be made up by tonight, i swear!”

-it wasn’t.

-he’s one of those annoying indecisive people who will insist that you choose, but will get mad if you don’t choose the option he secretly sorta preferred

“i can’t decide between place a or b, you choose!”

“place b”

“really? place a looks much more classy”

“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU PICK PLACE A?!”

-you’re convinced he’s only acting like this to piss you off, but he’s just like that

-in the end, you have to force him to flip a coin or else he wouldn’t get anywhere decision-wise

pakunoda

-she often gets lost in thought and zones out, which results in her unintentionally staring at people for a little too long

-because of her stern resting face (or rbf), it usually comes across as her glaring at you, which feels a lil uneasy, especially if you’re not close with her

-she will apologise profusely when she comes to, but before she does she will just be looking at you like

👁️_👁️

-as well as this, she will sometimes try and touch you to purposefully see your memories if she’s a bit suspicious of you for whatever reason

-if she thinks you’re lying about something for example, she will intrude your thoughts

-she’s not a particularly touchy-feely person so it’s quite amusing to see her try and touch you for seemingly no reason out of the blue

-a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do 🤷‍♀️

machi

-despite being one of the more upfront and mature members of the troupe, she’s also the worst one for holding grudges

-like she will hold a grudge for literal ages

-there are many she’s had for so long that she can’t even remember why she was mad in the first place

-at this point it’s more about keeping a streak than actually being mad

-best case scenario is that she forgets about it altogether or else best believe she will NOT be forgiving you. ever.

-she’s still pissed at the old guy who stepped on her toes by accident two years ago. and the waiter who tripped and dropped the tray on her eight months ago. or the questionable comment hisoka made last week.

-talks about getting vengeance on those she holds grudges against but can’t even remember who they are or what they did

“i swear i will find them, wherever they are, so they will get what’s coming to them.”

“that’s nice and all, but WHO are they and what did they do?”

“….. it’ll come to me soon hold on..”

-feels incomplete without holding a grudge against someone

franklin

-his big ass does NOT look where he’s walking and will bump into anything and anyone

-don’t expect him to apologise tho

-“apologise? maybe you should watch where you’re going.”

-don’t even try to fight him on this

-doesn’t see it as his duty to move out the way, but the duty of those around him

-the absolute NERVE

-the only reason why no one confronts him about it is because he’s tall and big as hell

-don’t die for getting bumped into

bonolenov

-one thing about him is that when he’s mad, he’ll give people the SILENT treatment

-heavy on silent

-could go for centuries if he wanted to

-and trust he’s a pro at keeping it up

-he doesn’t gaf if you’re in danger, he’ll keep on giving you the cold shoulder

-he won’t stop because he feels bad, but because he just can’t be bothered to keep ignoring you

-he will randomly just start talking to you again one day and will act confused if you question why he’s taking to you again after so long

-he won’t apologise for it tho 💯

kortopi

-his minuscule ass is always stepping on everyone’s trotters

-honestly sometimes he does it out of spite and will give look at you like 👁️ if you confront him

-there’s not much to say about him except he will sometimes accidentally sometimes not step on your feet

i fear i’m missing more members but irdgaf rn so enjoy !!!!! also these are fun to write to pls pls pls give me suggestions xoxoxo

[localemofreak]

I’m sorry (not really) but this needs to be said in the MCR fandom- I love every single member, no matter where you come from, but seriously I think this needs to be told.

‼️WARNING: SMALL RANT ABOUT MCR AND THE LONG LIVE THE BLACK PARADE TOUR‼️

I’m sorry but like, I have seen SO MANY people complain and be so ungrateful about this new MCR tour, and it’s genuinely driving me nuts.

(Btw this is copied and pasted from a little rant I made on discord)

Tbh I have seen A LOT of people complaining about the pricing of the tour tickets, and I understand that they were definitely super expensive but like, idk if people realize that literally MCR does not control the prices of tickets, at all- literally the venues do, so they have zero say in the prices- and none of the money goes to them anyway, it goes to the greedy ass venues, and the only money they get is from merch, it’s literally the same with every band- small or big, they get NO money from the tickets, only merch- that’s why bands are always like “please buy merch” bc that’s where they get their money from.. also MCR isn’t a small band anymore like they were back in the day- tickets are obviously gonna be pricey, that’s sadly how the world and economy works.

And I’m aware most of the rage was from the fact of bots buying and reselling tickets for thousands of bucks- is there things they could have done to prevent lots of bots from buying tickets? Most likely, but still- no matter what, it was going to sell out asap, and tickets were gonna be expensive no matter what- MCR cannot control that, it is not their fault. They are a big band, with millions of fans worldwide- they are going to take the easier route obviously with selling tickets, but I’m not denying that you can’t be upset- you have every right to be, but bots buying tickets is NOT the bands fault, so don’t blame them for something they literally can’t control.

And people saying they keep “teasing mcr5 but don’t give any mcr5 shit”, I’m sorry- but they have literally NEVER teased mcr5.. we just have fun as fans and suspect something new and out of the usual MCR related automatically equals MCR5.. but literally the band has never even mentioned, spoke, hinted, teased- ANYTHING about a new album..

And I’m sorry but I dislike these people who are like “if they aren’t gonna do a full tour for ALL fans, they might as well not do a tour at all-“ IM SORRY BUT I WANT TO SEE THEM.. I’m sorry for the fans overseas, but literally- there is people in North America that want to see them, so just because YOU can’t see them.. doesn’t mean the American and Canadian fans shouldn’t get the opportunities to see them. This will be my first ever MCR show I have ever seen and I’ve been a fan for YEARS- and i am so grateful and lucky to be able to see them, but just because they chose to do one section of planet earth (and they will definitely tour more after this, come on- just look at Gerard at WWWY.. is that really the face of a man who never wants to tour again??- MCR is going to do more tours.) doesn’t mean that those people shouldn’t get the opportunity to see them, y’all will still get your clips, y’all will get your photos- even if it was only a European tour, I wouldn’t be complaining about not being able to go, them touring only a small part of one continent in my opinion is better than no tour at all.

All I can really say is, let’s just let it cook- obviously they have things in store for us all, let’s keep the complaining down yk?- because I’m just happy that they are touring once again, no matter where the tour is. I’m just happy we get to see them again.

“They should have given people more time to prepare to buy tickets” Yeah 100% I agree, they should have definitely gave us a warning to save money up, but the people complaining about the tour in its entirety.. like, maybe they want to stay in North America to be close to family??- maybe they have other projects??.. and also maybe it is probably something to bring up the American people after everything went to fucking shit obviously with the election- I think people just need to be glad they are actually doing something instead of complaining and saying they shouldn’t tour at all, because no matter where they tour- fans are not gonna be able to see them, and some fans are, that’s how the world works- and complaining isn’t going to fix anything, in fact- it could cause MCR to either pause or stop the tour altogether in fear of being cancelled or controversy, literally they do not control the prices of tickets or what people do with the tickets- including bots, so don’t go blaming them for something they literally CANT CONTROL.

And honestly, I’m sorry but people shouldn’t be complaining about it being a basically only United States tour- like with everything going on in this country, it was the perfect time- because literally I think a lot of people needed a distraction from all the fucked up shit that’s happening over here.. and MCR is an American band with American members, so it’s obviously effecting them as well- so I really think this is a perfect and good thing for American MCR fans rn.

ALSO people saying “they don’t care” um.. they literally have enough money to retire and live the rest of their lives without doing shit if they wanted too.. they are literally taking time out of THEIR LIVES instead to go tour around and preform for fans, when they could literally just stay at home and raise their kids. THEY DONT HAVE TO DO THIS, this is literally a blessing that they are still touring, because they literally don’t have too, but they CHOOSE TO PERFORM- because they care about the fans, new and old. They want people to be able to experience seeing them live, because they are aware of the impact they make on people’s lives- and tbh, I think they are still VERY humble people compared to their level of fame- they still take pics with fans when asked, sign autographs, all that shit when literally they don’t have too- they still stay down to earth and give fans stuff when they literally don’t have too. So just because they aren’t going to your country, or you can’t get tickets- doesn’t mean nobody else is allowed to have fun and see them. And it’s obvious, they literally have more in store for us all- so people shouldn’t rush to conclusions and be like “oh but they are leaving out the rest of the fans!” No they aren’t.. trust me- they aren’t, they remember you guys, but right now they are doing this- and that’s completely fine, because it’s THEIR BAND, THEIR SONGS, AND THEIR TIME.

So right now, all I can say is- let’s just please stop complaining, because it won’t fix anything.. let’s just be happy that we are actually getting something from them. Please. You are allowed to be upset, but half of the things people are upset about- are completely out of the band’s control.. so don’t go blaming them- when genuinely, don’t they have to do jackshit.

And you guys are 100% allowed to be upset, sad, frustrated, angry- FEEL WHATEVER U WANT TO FEEL.. but literally my chemical romance owes nobody ANYTHING.. they are choosing to do this tour for the fans, when literally they don’t have too. So let’s just be grateful for what we are getting.

(Btw I am not saying that people are ‘too broke’ or hating, or anything like that- I’m just saying, instead of complaining because it literally won’t do anything- I’m just being honest here, we should be happy that MCR is at least still around touring, giving updates, things like that etc- when they literally don’t have too.)

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! I was rereading some of your follower event things and thought one of Wrecker ones (I Can Fix That) was super cute! At least the vibes of it with it being mostly really sweet and caring.

I was hoping you could write something with vibes kind of like that one. Not exactly like the Wrecker one obviously because what I'm asking for is different.

Anyways, I am requesting the gem emerald with Gregor during sunset/dusk please! Preferably with Gender Neutral reader where the reader and Gregor are going on their first date. Both of them are nervous, but are really sweet with each other. Maybe it's the first date either of them have had in a long time or something, so they both agree to take it slow.

Great work with your writing! Can't wait to read/see this when it gets written!

First Time In Forever

Summary: You’ve not been on a date in ages, so you’re hopeful that this date with Gregor goes well.

Pairing: Captain Gregor x GN!Reader

Word Count: 627

Prompt: Emerald - Patient Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Hi there! Thank you for your request! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I didn't actually write the date, because that would have definitely put me over my self imposed word limit, but I hope you like it anyway.

You haven’t been on a date in what feels like ages.

It’s not your fault, not really. You’ve been so busy, what with the war and everything, that it kind of fell to the wayside, but things are different now.

The war is over.

And you’re able to get back to your normal life.

Of course, normal is subjective, and people just haven’t been interested in dating you.

You were starting to worry that you were never going to make a connection with anyone…and that’s when you met Gregor. Kind Gregor. Handsome Gregor.

Gregor who smiles at you like you’re a little confusing but keeps coming around anyway.

Gregor, who asked you to get ice cream with him today. Who sheepishly, and bashfully, admitted that it was a date but he was a little nervous using that word since you don’t date.

You weren’t sure how to tell him that you didn’t date because people weren’t interested in you, so you didn’t. You just accepted his offer. You like him, after all. He’s wonderful.

But now that today is here, you’re kind of…panicking.

You’ve been dumped by every person you’ve ever been on a date with. Clearly this is a ‘you’ problem since you're the only common denominator, and the idea of Gregor breaking up with you because of some personal failing that you aren’t aware of is…terrifying.

But, at the same time, you can’t not go. Because that might upset Gregor and you can’t do that.

So, after fretting over your appearance for a few more minutes, because it’s something you can control, you finally leave your apartment to head to the meeting point you and Gregor agreed on.

The both of you arrive at the same time, and the moment you see Gregor all of the nerves fly away, as though they were never there to begin with. How could you be nervous with him grinning at you like that? Like an excited schoolboy.

“You’re here!” He even sounds excited, and your heart does a little flip, though not from nerves this time.

“So are you.” You tease with a small grin.

“Well, yeah…” He pushes his hand through his hair, “I…ah, was kind of worried that you weren’t going to come.” Gregor admits, “My brothers had to reassure me that you would.”

“Well, honestly, I was a bit worried that you would change your mind when you saw me.” You admit as you lean closer to him, “I haven’t exactly had good luck with dating in the past.”

Gregor stares at you, “Never. I would never. You’re amazing. I’m a lucky man that you agreed to come on a date with me.” His smile is slightly lopsided, “But, uh…it’s been a bit since the last time I dated-”

“Oh, same. I haven’t been on a date since…Force…before the war started.”

Gregor releases a giggle, before he shakes his head, “Well, since it’s been a while, for us both, do you mind if we…go a bit slow?”

A smile blooms across your face, and you reach out to take his hands in yours. “I like you, Gregor. I think you’re funny and smart and kind and good…and I’d like to see where this goes. We can go as slow, or as fast, as you’d like.”

He squeezes your hands, “Well, I’m hoping for a possible forever with you, so there’s no need to rush, right?”

You beam at him, “Well, as it happens, I’m a very patient person.” You squeeze his hands back, “Because your hope sounds perfect to me.”

Gregor flashes a small, shy smile and then threads his fingers with yours, “Well then, shall we get this date started?”

“I can’t wait,” You reply with a small grin as you squeeze his hand.

[vacantgodling]

💋 100 Question Sex and Kink OC Ask Game ❤️‍🔥

by the lovely @ink-flavored

i’m gonna do this entire questionnaire for my silly guy KING RICAUD OF CONCORDIA, who—to explain very simply—is a fantasy 15th-century/king arthur inspired ruler who is just, and good, and sticks his dick in literally fucking everything. NOW WITH DOODLE!!

answers below the cut 💛💛 (i will skip ones that don’t apply to him or that i don’t have much of an answer for that’s worth talking about)

✅Biggest turn ons? Something they'll always be into?

fellatio/cunnilingus, giving and receiving. it’s always a good time to him, having his mouth occupied or someone else’s (OR BOTH!!! AT THE SAME TIME!!!!!) and losing himself in the bliss of that wet hot feeling or the taste of the other person. it’s no secret that he has an oral fixation and likes shit in his mouth.

he’s also super into cum-play, coming inside or on someone or getting cummed on is >>>>>> to him; he likes the physical evidence of his own or his partner’s satisfaction.

🛑Biggest turn offs? What are their hard-nos?

humiliation and especially degradation aren’t really his thing. he respects people who are into it but honestly he’s too nice of a guy and he takes it personally and can’t really get into the “role” of the person doling out that kind of talk. sex to him is about joy and pleasure and intimacy; so he just can’t really jive mentally with fucking someone and telling them they suck (derogatory). he can kinda get on if he’s the one receiving humiliation a bit (the whole “you just can’t control yourself can you so naughty” vibe) but that’s only really from specific people and situations where he’d be into it. but giving is very hm no.

🚗High or low sex drive?

HIGH!!!!! to the point where the whole kingdom is kinda familiar to some capacity his sexcapades. no one even bats an eye.

💋Do they like kissing? Anywhere in particular?

GOD YEAH…. he loves kissing so much. everywhere is preferred but he really enjoys neck kisses (giving and receiving), thigh kisses (giving), and cheek kisses (receiving—though which cheeks i’m referring to is up to you LMAO)

💊Are they vigilant about birth control and safe sex, or more flippant?

flippant. firstly, this is my fantasy world and if i say idc about worrying about safe sex and stds then if be like that. 🤷🏽‍♂️ but also, ricaud has a magic vasectomy because of a magic sword he pulled that helped him become king (tl;dr, he king arthur’d got the sword in the stone but the sword came with a few magic rules and stipulations; one of them is that so long as you wield the sword you will never be able to conceive heirs to your bloodline and that’s so totally fine by him he was practically yanking that thing out on that ALONE. so he magically has perma-birth control unless he decides to re-seal his magic sword and he’s not doing that anytime soon if not ever. he, his mage hyhfrit, and his knight gleriath are also the only people who know about this clause of the sword lol.)

↕️Do they prefer to bottom (be penetrated) or top (do the penetrating)? Both? Neither?

pretty much 90% a top; he does enjoy getting his ass played with mind you but he loooooves making other people feel good so if it’s penetration related he’s doing the penetrating lol. the only time he’s really been bottom as far as i’m currently aware is (1) when he “slayed” two dragons (he got dp’d by two literal dragons to convince them to not burn down the kingdom tm) (2) gleriath, his right hand knight and best friend has topped him before. but despite what most people assume about him, gleriath very much enjoys servicing his lord in all manners of the word. cough.

🧘Favorite position?

he has a favorite position for each of his lovers so i’ll quickly list ‘em:

gleriath (his knight, best friend, bodyguard, always by his side at all times) -> missionary. gleriath gets really embarrassed about his expressions and being seen but ricaud is in love with him and wants to see every expression he makes

calohan (his favorite royal advisor who is NOT trying to coerce him into getting married) -> sitting on his lap either facing him or away from him. he actually finds the sitting up-reverse cowgirl enjoyable because that usually means calohan is in the middle of doing something important and he likes to see how long it takes for calohan to get distracted lmao

teise (his court jester) -> reverse cowgirl leaning up against his chest; especially on his throne and especially with his fingers in his mouth and his hand on his clit {teise is transmasc}. though to be fair he has a LOT of favorite positions with teise he just kinda tosses him around like a ragdoll

prince lisanet (the brother of the princess his royal court is trying to get him to marry. every time he visits their kingdom SOMEHOW he ends up in the prince’s chambers) -> face down ass up. the prince finds it humiliating in a turn-on kind of way (it’s the juxtaposition of being in a position of power and the expectation to be chaste but fucking like a dog. tm) and ricaud finds him cute and breedable like that SO

nareth (an eleven royal that ricaud chances upon and has a 6 month sex vacation with that almost led to him being declared a missing person lol—) -> spooning. nareth is very touch starved when they and ricaud meet so they want as much skin to skin contact as possible with him. ricaud is EXTREMELY happy to oblige

morsa (a milk maiden who ricaud uh. milks. cough) -> bent over and braced against something; usually leaning over her back to reach her cock. sooo much cumplay with these two actually.

rivant (an assassin of an organization that wants to depose ricaud. even though he’s the one who got the closest to the king, he uh. is also not immune to the king’s charms. and dick) -> dp’d between him and gleriath. getting the sarcastic assassin strung out and boneless is Quite Enjoyable for him.

queddred & quadorrat (the dragons hired by an evil sorceress to try and kill ricaud. they found a different agreement though) -> one in his ass, one in his mouth = bliss. he didn’t know he was a size queen until he was presented with magic dragon cock LMAO

astonna (said evil sorceress who ricaud ends up lowkey domesticating after her plans keep failing bc everyone is addicted to his dick. apparently she is no better) -> lays back and lets her ride OR amazon position. she likes to be in control and take what she wants to feel like she’s in charge and not like everyone else who got wooed by his stupid pretty eyes, charming demeanor, and amazing bedside manner. she is lying to herself, of course, but ricaud only wants to indulge her 💛

👄Oral sex? Giving or receiving?

Yes.

📺Do they enjoy porn and/or erotica?

unsurprisingly yes! he loves orgies and likes watching others get off or get fucked in front of him. despite being “annoyed” (only in jest) that his personal mage, hyhfrit keeps refusing his advances, watching hyhfrit and gleriath fuck was a Transformative experience for him lol.

♟️Favorite sex toy(s)?

yknow he doesn’t really have any. the way i’m keeping this “true to times” is that there’s not much by way of the types of sex toys we have now (though certain things like restraints and blindfolds exist)—though if he lived in our time/world he would have an entire sex room with toys galore i won’t even hold you. of the things available to him, blindfolds are actually something he quite likes especially on himself; the sensory depravation is enjoyable ;3

🎶Do they have a sex playlist?

the sound of his lovers’s moans 💛

👯Threesome? Foursome? Orgy?

YES. PLEASE. i still gotta get more details down of this “fertility festival” that he spearheads the creation of but best believe he’s got multiple people in his bed at once that night

🫂Was it hard to come to terms with their sexuality, or did they embrace sex from the beginning?

ricaud actually has quite a lot of Trauma and fully throwing himself into all aspects of Love and Sex was actually his response to it. his father was a tyrant and dictator (literally) and ricaud ended up having to kill him when he was just 17, to tl;dr it but when he and his sister grew up their home was devoid of love, care, safety, and compassion; so he craves it. it’s much healthier now than it was when he was younger bc now he’s more healed from them, but he always pretty much knew that he wanted desperately to be loved and to be shown a tangible form of love so physical contact and eventually sex became really important to him to feel cared for.

🏳️‍🌈How does their sexual orientation impact their relationship to sex and kink?

so, if i had to label him with modern terminology, i’d say that he’s a polyamorous pansexual non-monogamist at the broadest sense of the term. i kinda specify both polyamorous (loving multiple people at once) and non-monogamist (not interested and generally incapable of having a one person relationship) just because of the whole “the council wants him to settle down and have a wife even if he has lovers on the side” but ricaud is more like “if i can’t marry multiple wives/husbands and have them all be the same level of political and societal importance then i’m not getting married at all” bc his circumstances are kinda Like That. because of his whole non-monogamy thing, it actually sometimes prevents him from pursuing certain people in a sexual sense. to put it in perspective with an example ig, he actually wouldn’t have a problem sleeping with the princess of hellefrie that his council wants him to marry, princess lyneviana, BUT he is aware that she would want to be More Important than his other partners and he simply isn’t willing to do that. basically, there is no relationship hierarchy to him. if you decide to be his lover than you have the same level of importance to him as someone who he’s arguably been with for longer, like gleriath. if morsa is having a terrible day and needs his affection and love then he’s going to drop everything for her, no different than if calohan is stressed and needs a listening ear. and if multiple people need him at once, HE’LL MAKE IT WORK DAMMIT. he can’t bring himself to be with someone who doesn’t get that even if he would Really REALLY like to fuck them. so like even though that’s not a “traditional” sexuality label it affects how he goes about sex and whatnot for him.

the pansexual mostly affects how he’s uhhhhh very open to nonhuman lovers p much. if it’s sentient and down to fuck he’ll fuck. DHDHDH

🤝Would they consider a "friends with benefits" situation? With who?

pretty much most of his relationships now started as fwb and transitioned into a more steady partnership of some kind on each lover’s kinda individual terms (the exception kinda being queddred & quadorrat bc that was more of a one time thing but if it weren’t for the laws of this land— sorta similar thing with nareth; elves can’t really leave the enchanted forest nor can Most magical beings sans like wizards and sorceresses and those who they make paths for and the like and time passes differently there so when ricaud went ‘missing’ in the enchanted wood he thought it was only a few days but it was actually 6 months whoops—he does still keep in contact with nareth and wants to go back to see them but being a king and not having a Sure Way to tell time in the forest has kinda prevented it. it’s something hyhfrit has been working on among other projects for him. RAMBLING ASIDE THO) basically ricaud is open to fwb with anyone lol. if it becomes more then it becomes more 👀

🥸How do they feel about hook-ups and casual sex? Would they ever seek out sex from a stranger? How would they react if propositioned?

he loves hook ups and casual sex, he loves being intimate with people in general regardless of how well he knows them. he’s sought it from strangers and he’ll do it again, and he’ll strip faster if he’s propositioned by someone LOL

✨Would they ever go to a sex club? Alone? With a partner(s)?

to a brothel you mean? yes & yes.

but in a more modern sense he would also go to a sex club; he’d be a regular member at several

💗How often do they masturbate, if at all?

actually he doesn’t that often—if he’s horny he goes and finds someone to have sex with. it’s not because he has an issue with masturbating it’s just hard for him to finish if he’s alone. he NEEDS another presence there and to interact with to get off lol

🤪How crazy is their O-face (the expression they make during orgasm)?

honestly not suuuuper crazy but with the dragons it was VERY wild (there was a lot going on ok)

🔥What's the state of their sex life? Are they happy with it?

very active and VERY fulfilling. it’s honestly his dream to have it as active as it is now and he’s honestly looking to keep expanding it (meaning i gotta think of more characters LMAO)

🎤Are they good at communicating their needs?

pretty good yeah! he’s generally a good communicator and he has very little shame whatsoever so if he wants something he’s definitely gonna ask

💌What do they seek out in terms of sexual compatibility?

i think probably (1) willingness to bottom—like i said he’s usually a top except on rare occasions so masc or femme, if you’re willing to buss it open then yall are good to go (2) open to affection during the act. there are some people who are strictly business about it like in the hole, cum, out, and he’s just not into that. he wants to laugh and talk and kiss and cuddle while fucking, the whole nine. (3) generally attractive to him—but he finds most people attractive tbh so that’s not hard lol (4) good personality. does he like talking to you? yes? let’s FUCK!!!

🩷Do they prefer soft sex, or rough sex?

of the two, soft. he’s down for rough sex but he likes sensuality a lot so softer sex is always a huge turn on for him

💯When a partner says "do anything you want to me," what do they do first?

kissing down their neck, leaving hickeys, and grinding against them until they’re wet and begging him to quit teasing <3 then he’s getting his mouth on some sort of genitalia

🌌What's their "best night ever"? Have they had one yet?

he has a few for differing reasons:

first time he and gleriath fucked -> it was his first time in general, they were young and confused and scared but very much adoring of each other and so that night while a lot of fumbles happened is still really special to him

dragon sex -> i mean yeah there’s nothing else to explain fr it’s the most exotic and wild sexcapade hes ever had and it feels Extremely unreal that he got to experience that at all

being magically restrained and made (consensually) to watch gleriath and hyhfrit get it on -> he’s never not been allowed to touch or participate but it opened his mind to how actually fucking hot it is to see other people having sex too and it helped solidify that he just loves love and he just loves sex in his brain so hooray for self discovery!!

astonna and he’s first time -> astonna has been a one-sided antagonist to him for many years, and finally getting to the point where they were able to sit down and talk about her grievances but then also he could show her that he wasn’t a bad guy in a variety of ways… he really felt like That Moment encapsulated his personal belief that love and conversation will pave all paths to good fortune <3

👎What was their worst night ever?

he had a fwb (stranger) ask him to degrade them during sex and it was his first time experiencing it and he’s down to try most things once. so he said yes but when it got to the point of saying “mean” shit while they were fucking he couldn’t do it and kept pausing the scene to make sure they were okay;;;; it’s how he learned the kink wasn’t for him and the person took it well (he also still got them to cum tho so it’s fineeeee) sooooo yeah. worst night in comparison to other times he’s had

👂Are they into dirty talk?

HELL YEAH. very much more the giving side—he loves to tell people what he wants and how good they look and exactly how he’s gonna give it to them until they’re squirming and begging and then he makes good on those promises

🛏️Do they like pillow talk?

yeah 🥺🥺🥺🥺 its a must for him frfr

🏃Are they confident about pursuing sex?

extremely. it’s bc his dick is magic. (jkjk—unless—)

🔢How many sexual partners have they had? How many do they have now?

overall? god that’s too many to count. of his MAIN partners currently tho, he has 6 (7 if i include nareth; not including the dragons bc that was a one time thing p much)

💖Favorite erogenous zone on themself? On others?

on himself it would be his wrists and the back of his neck (and his back in general). on others its p much whatever makes them scream the loudest, but he does think nipples and thighs are >>>>>

😍Do they see themself as sexually desirable?

very much so. he is very much Not Lacking in confidence LMAO.

🦵Favorite non-sexual body part on themself? On others?

on himself, perhaps his hands (though whether or not that's sexual is subjective). he more enjoys the stories behind their scars and callouses and he appreciates how much he's been able to do with just his own hands. on others, it's hair (definitely subjective because hair definitely CAN be sexual to him but he does enjoy it generally without sex attached). he thinks how a person styles their hair really says a lot about them and their personality so he enjoys it for that reason.

❤️‍🔥Do they know their sexuality intimately or are they repressing some (or all) of their desires?

he knows his sexuality very intimately. but to be fair he's had years of time to discover himself, what he likes and what he doesn't.

⛓️How important is kink in their sex life?

kink isn't terribly... important? he's fine with very vanilla sex in terms of doing the actual act bc like i said before for him it's more about the intimacy of being close to someone. the more wild and outlandish things are definitely fun, but if he can just enjoy his partner's body and presence that is more than enough for him.

though you Could make an argument that everything he does is 'kinky' to some extent bc of his whole, non-monogamy thing.

❤️How did they discover their favorite kink(s)? && 🧭How adventurous are they in the bedroom? Would they try something they'd never done at the drop of a hat? Would they automatically refuse? [cuz these basically lean into each other]

in general he is a very much "try everything once to see if you enjoy it" type of person; the only things he really turns down are things relating to violence and things he already kind of knows he won't enjoy based on other kink experiences.

🤔Is there a kink or other sexual experience they've never been able to try, but want to?

he is curious to what it would feel like to have alternate genetalia; a pussy instead of a cock and soft round breasts instead of the hard planes of his chest. he's very secure in his gender and masculinity so this isn't like a "he's secretly trans" type of thing but he can't help but want to know what its like. for instance, would he enjoy bottoming more if he had those parts? (not that he dislikes bottoming or anything, but would the experience be heightened in some way, or dulled?) he's just generally curious about it. he COULD PERHAPS try and convince hyhfrit to mess around with his anatomy if he really wanted to give it a go but he isn't sure he's willing to commit to whatever side effects of that there would be lmao.

‼️What's the kink most people would be surprised they have?

i think people are usually a bit surprised when they discover he has a praise kink (receiving). to you and i that might seem pretty obvious, but to others he constructs his entire persona around being the ultimate lover and carer, a playboy but softer if you will? so to know that he can be just as affected by words of affirmation and praise and devotion in a more "good boy" way and less of a "yes daddy" way (for lack of distinction lmao) can surprise some people. but many of his lovers are more than happy to oblige <3

⁉️What kink did they surprise themself with?

again. the dragon thing. he just was not expecting that to turn him on so much. he thinks about it uhhhh way more than he'd probably like to admit and if he didn't have reason (gleriath), practicality (calohan), and sanity (hyhfrit) on his shoulders telling him NO he'd probably be wandering the magic woods looking for willing monster fuck buddies as we speak EDFBCK. i think he deserves many a good romp with some monsters frfr free my mans.

🙊Are they embarrassed about any of their kinks?

the dragon thing, a bit just because it is so foreign to him but with experience he'd definitely get over it. but in the most part no, he's pretty shameless generally speaking.

💞Dom, sub, switch? Do they like to play with power dynamics?

veeeeerrrrrryyyy soft dom. kinda goes back to the degrading thing that he's not really into, and the desire for like love and passion and all that, so he doesn't mind taking charge but he's not necessarily the "dom" that we would think of; unless you're thinking of a soft dom then yeah he's that. he's somewhat of a switch, but not often enough to claim that title.

🫴What do they need from their Dom/sub?

from his subs he only wants 2 things: their love (in whatever form that may take) and their pleasure. whatever that looks like. he is in the business of love making and he wants to pleasure them until they can barely stand it. he'd make a GREAT incubus tbh.

🗨️Favorite titles (Master/Mistress, pet, toy, etc.) for themself? Their partner(s)?

'my lord' is an easy favorite, especially when said with affection. 'your highness' is mostly amusing to him from prince lisanet and teise so he enjoys it from those two specifically. 'love' from morsa; she just has him wrapped around her finger fr. 'my king' will produce a especially violent but loving burst of affection from him if gleriath says it (he's been calling him that since they were young and its the most ardent form of i love you that his knight has to say and how is he NOT supposed to jump him when he says that???). calohan also calls him 'my headache' affectionately especially when ricaud does something that he knows he's going to have to clean up later LMAO. prince lisanet also has a habit of calling or referring to ricaud as 'stag' because the two go on Many hunting trips together *wink wink*

for his partners (you KNOW its list time again!!):

gleriath -> my knight, my sword, or my keeper are all ones he tends to default to; though there is a certain indulgence he gets out of saying his name outright ie; sir gleriath.

calohan -> i haven't come up with his formal title bc obvs as a royal advisor, calohan is nobility of some kind; but duke of (insert place here) is how he usually refers to him especially around others; its like a little inside joke between them even though it "shouldn't" be because that's how he refers to all advisors. its all about the tone of voice and the meaningful look when he says it.

teise -> 'little tease' obviously, because teise is pronounced 'tease' (lmao that's literally why i picked the name PFF). 'doll' or 'marionette' or 'nettie' or 'maria' are all common as well

prince lisanet -> 'princeling', 'your highness' (especially when the prince is in the face down ass up position because the Juxtaposition Okay), 'doe' to go along with the prince calling him stag.

nareth -> he actually doesn't have that many for nareth, because the wonder of saying their name is kinda >>>>

morsa -> often calls her 'my lady' or 'lady of my heart' especially when buried to the hilt! :D

rivant -> 'little thief' is common (though rivant always protest that he's not stealing anything, to which gleriath will reply you can steal lives, where ricaud is more of the 'you stole my heart!' variety lmao. the duality of man)

astonna -> he doesn't quite have one set title for her, though he does come up with increasingly grandiose things to call her such as 'my divinity' or 'my heavens and earth'. its very cheesy but she enjoys it and she hates that she loves it EIDFKBCN

🍵What do they do for aftercare?

cuddles, affirmations, getting food/drink, making sure they're bundled up and any marks or soreness is addressed. he's very attentive overall :)

👔Do they dress up for sex (lingerie, collar, maid dress, suit and tie, etc.)? What's their favorite outfit?

he can! if his partner has a specific outfit that they want him to wear or a specific fantasy they want him to fulfill he's veeeeery indulgent. prince lisanet tends to be the one doing the most dressing up because he has uhhh wildly specific fantasies that ricaud finds both endearing and amusing. he himself doesn't really have a favorite fit bc he really prefers to be naked at all times. if it weren't for the council's continuous disapproval of him trying to make laws of this land, he would make it so clothes were optional in public spaces PFFF

🙌Do they prefer praise or degradation? A mix of both?

PRAISE. degredation isn't on the scale at all.

😖Are they a huge tease, or the one being teased?

prefers to do the teasing, but is never against when he is teased <3

❤️‍🩹Sadism or masochism? Both? Neither?

this one kiiiiinda falls in his he's not really into violence or negative heighteners of feelings during sex, however he can be a bit sadistic in terms of stamina, if that makes sense? prolonged orgasms and overstimulation are definitely things that he enjoys and that can be its own kind of sadism in a way though he does try to be mindful of his partner's limits and when its ow it feels good to OW stop right now!!! yknow lol.

🧛Are they into biting others? Being bitten?

yes and yes <3

👀Exhibitionism or voyeurism?

YES.

🙈Do they have any particularly taboo kinks? Age-play, fauxcest, race-play, etc.?

he's a bit into somnophilia or the whole sleep sex thing. its with specific partner's tho for both giving and receiving cuz obvs it requires a lot of Trust tm.

🏙️How far would they go in public?

all the way lmao which is why the fertility festival exists PFFFF

🏰Sex drawer in their dresser, or kink-dedicated sex dungeon?

his room in the palace is technically a kind of dedicated sex dungeon soooooo 👀

🆓Free use? For themself or their partner(s)?

YES for both

🚦Do they have a go-to safe word? Do they use other kinds of signals?

for him it's 'poppies' for whoa slow down we might be reaching some not great territory for me. and then 'lily of the valley' for stop and regroup. he's never had a sexual experience go so south that he lily of the valley'd and then completely removed himself from the situation but he has used it more when he's feeling like. trauma feelings coming up (with the ptsd and all) and he needs a second to Get a Grip.

🎀Bondage? Ropes, leather cuffs, nylon, or something else? Are they the rigger or the rope bunny?

bondage >>>>> super into it. at some point he'll really get into some sort of shibari equivalent because tying people up is one thing, but when the ropes are pretty... that's another story. bc of the setting rope for tactile bondage & magic for non-tactile bondage scenarios (these happening only from that one time hyhfrit fucked gleriath in front of him, and some of the times that he and astonna play since they're the two magic users he's boned for now LMAO). he is both a rigger & rope bunny.

🤕What kind of pain are they into, if any?

only into like. dull and unintetional pain that comes from being a bit rough. like soreness after a lotta fucking or some spanks, hickey bruises or restraint marks, and scratches down the back are kinda his limit.

🔪Are they into weapon-play? Knives, guns, etc.?

extremely no lmao.

⚠️Are they into consensual non-consent (CNC)? Which role do they prefer? Any particular scenarios?

not really? he'll kind of dabble with it in a very very lose roleplay way (ie: with astonna he's had a 'oh your evil plans have won and you captured me' roleplay on a few occassions, and with lisanet, he's had a 'i'm the big bad king who captured you now' tm) but like nothing actually HARD cnc. he doesn't have much of a preference, this is one of those things where he can get into it bc his partner is into it but he doesn't seek it out bc its a kink he specifically has.

🫁Do they like breath play or choking?

nah that triggers ptsd for him baybee.

🩸Bodily fluids? Blood, spit, cum, piss, scat?

cum >>> spit >>>> piss (he's gotta be in a specific mood) > blood (only on accident like if it happens it happens but he's not fond of it) =/= scat is not for him lol

🙄Brat or brat-tamer?

tamer. he loves his brats <3 (rivant, teise, and prince lisanet lmaoo)

🔐Are they into orgasm control/denial? As the giver or receiver?

MY LONGEST YEAH BOI EVER TO BOTH.

🍫Would they bring food into the bedroom?

god yeah, he loves the decadence and indulgence of it.

🫄Are they into breeding or pregnancy?

breeding kink is SO STRONG with this one which is also why cum is a big kink of his. morsa is his biggest breeding fantasy indulgence with all the milking/cow/lactating imagery tm.

pregnancy in itself doesn't do anything for him tho. he's never wanted to be a father tho lol.

🦄Do they have any pure fantasy kinks, things that aren't possible in real life (or the world your story takes place in)?

technically anything he may dream of is possible he would just have to find someone willing to do it with him. a lot of the more outlandish kinks he has reason, sanity, and practicality (gleriath, hyhfrit, and calohan) holding him back tho lmao.

🩺Are they into medical play? As the doctor or patient?

he's not into it in the sense that he wouldn't seek it out, but he has had sex due to or after injuries sooooo if that counts?

🧊Temperature play? Hot or cold?

hot. he loves wax play and hot oil

🕯️Wax play? Scented candles or plain?

both! he's pretty spontaneous and grabs whatever is available at the time. if he's in his room at the palace he has Many scented candles for the occasion but on the go, he'll make do.

🌿Are they into intoxication or forced intox? Which substances?

this kind of falls into the realm of using magic in sex and he hasn't dabbled with it as much as he'd like but in the times he has he's enjoyed the aphrodisiacs he's consumed or had fed to him. astonna tends to be the main one he's tried this out with bc its the compromise of doing it in a relatively safe environment.

🖊️Body writing? What would they write on their partner(s)? What would they want written on them?

he's not super into it but he does find it interesting; he's seen it a bit when he's gone to brothels and he's like "huh. neat" about it lol. no positive or negative feelings.

🙇Are they into body worship? For themself or others? Do they like to worship a specific body part?

his entire partner's body is a temple and he is but a pious, grovelling sinner begging for a Crumb. i need to make him a religious monk or nun to get it on with it is a necessity cough. anyway, its mostly for others. he's a very giving lover and there's really no specifics, he wants to worship everything.

🪮Do they like hair pulling, or pulling a partner's hair?

partner's hair >>>>>>>

🙏Are they into begging, or making someone else beg?

he loves when his partner begs but he also loves "dominant begging" -- idk how to explain it but basically when like the dom is all like "please baby i need you so bad" type of energy

🔮Are there any unique or fantastical aspects of sexuality in the world of your WIP that they engage in? Non-human characteristics, magic?

magic and magical creatures to a certain extent are the main things that exist in this world. its again kinda king arthurian + magic + ren's usual nonsense adjacent. mostly the main fantastical elements that ricaud (or anyone) interacts with is the wizards/mages/sorcerers whatever tf im calling them that are able to exist between the enchanted woods and the human lands tm. i don't really know the specifics of this dynamic yet, but magical potions and aphrodisiacs are probably the most common thing that people interact with, as well as occasional magic users who can use spells during sex.

🗺️Does their culture have a strong impact on their sexuality? Which parts?

in some ways the backdrop is still like a 15th century arthurian vibe of court (and i KNOW kind arthur is more 12th century but like as usual i am pulling from multiple vibes bc this is a fantasy world anyway i do what i want) so especially with the nobility and elders, there is more pressure to be traditional, despite the things that are very much outside of that realm. however, bc i am who i am, i have people of all flavors and variety of colors and queerness. so like for some people, it does like take a toll on them to like live the right way, but in ricaud's case bc he's king he and bc he's so jaded that it circled back around into optimism and a love of life, he just kinda doesn't care about society's expectations.

👪Did their family or how they were raised impact their sexuality? How?

sort of--ricaud's father like i think i mentioned at some point in this giant mass of text, was a tyrant, dictator and abuser to his family and all other manner of shitty things. because of this, ricaud grew up craving love and affection and found that love and compassion were the strongest drivers of how he wanted to live his life; as he never wanted to return to the cold and unloving (at the bare minimum) way things were under his father. so it kind of contributes to his pansexual, love seeking tendencies even if he's always kind of been Like That anyway. its a combo of nature and nurture.

💏How do their past relationships impact their sexuality?

⛪Does their faith impact their sexuality? In what ways?

📕If there was a book about their sexuality, what would it be called?

'if you can't beat 'em, fuck 'em (literally): a guide to overcoming your adversaries with the power of your magnum cock" by king ricaud of concordia.

📢How private are they about their sex life and sexual preferences?

literally not private at all the entire kingdom knows what's going on with him lmao.

🪨Do they identify with stone sexuality? Have they in the past? ("Stone" refers to not wanting to receive any sexual touch and/or only desiring sexual touch in specific ways with specific partners. Popularized by Leslie Feinberg in Stone Butch Blues.)

nope

😤Do they seek out sex when angry or frustrated? Would they offer sex to a frustrated partner?

he's more likely to offer sex to an angry or frustrated partner. it's not that it's "hard" to get him angry; its just that if he gets that pissed off, he starts reminding himself of his father which is Trauma and that's always a boner killer.

🍷What never fails to get them "in the mood"?

smile at him and bat your eyelashes and look like you wanna get fucked he'll stroll over to you in a heartbeat.

🕳️Would they ever use a glory hole? Have they used one before?

yes, and yes :)

😭Have they ever cried during sex? What happened?

he's only ever cried once during the dragon incident (over stimulation) but only really in front of gleriath, but it didn't have much to do with sex and more to do with having flashbacks in the midst of it and gleriath is one of the people he feels comfortable breaking down like that around. he does eventually get to that point with his other partners but even in general he doesn't like people seeing him like that :((

💵What are their feelings on sex work? Have they ever done sex work, or paid a sex worker for services?

he has spent much of his reign fighting for the rights of sex workers ngl; he feels like for all the practical reasons sex workers obviously benefit the economy and outlawing them just means people will practice it in dangerous ways and that's money that could go to the kingdom soooo you see how the math isn't mathing?? but on a personal level, he thinks that you shouldn't be degraded for something as trivial as your occupation.

he is a frequent brothel goer (especially in his younger years when he had less partners and less responsibilities) and brothels LOOOOVE when the king is in town <3

👃Are there any scents that arouse them? Do they wear a scent to arouse their partner(s)?

nothing specific when it comes to what he wears though musk and sweat is something that he is shamelessly horny about; astonna does tend to wear scent based aphrodisiacs when she wants to be more coy about wanting ricaud's advances, but she's not subtle because neither is he LMAO

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader Series

Shape Shifted

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Ice Pick | Abomination | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Raving | Party Guessed | Fury

Prompt: Lydia has been found but just when things were starting to look up, of course, new information appears to suggest other wise.

a/n: Hey guys! This is the next chapter and i think i found a name for this series, let me know what you think! Also how do you guys feel about this new chapter set up? If you guys like it, I’ll probably go back to the other two chapters and change it to this as well!

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

“So wait, what happened?” Scott was trying to explain to you what exactly happened after he ran off to find Lydia the night before. “I’ve already explained to you twice now,” Scott sighed packing his bag for school. You were leaning against his bedroom door, “Yes, I know, I know. I’m just- I’m just trying to process this whole thing.” You two made your way through the hallway, you weren’t concerned about Melissa hearing you two since she was already on her shift for the day.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” You began, “Allison’s grandfather, took a sword and sliced through a lone wolf, an omega, then proceeded to make some speech about killing all werewolves even though they’re supposed to go by a code?”

“Yes.”

“AND THEN to top everything off, Derek was with you?”

Scott sighed once more, “Yeah.” Opening the front door, you stopped on the porch, “What was Derek doing there?” His eyebrows scrunched together and he raised his hands, “How am I supposed to know?”

You rocked your head to the side, “Okay, okay, fair enough. I’m done, I promise I won’t bring it up anymore.” Just as the topic was dropped, Stiles pulled in front of the house. ‘What a weekend we had,’ you thought getting into the back seat. The whole ride consisted of Scott trying to convince Stiles that he would be okay during the full moon. You zoned out for most of the argument, up until you three made it to the boy’s locker room and it was still the current topic.

“Okay, we get it, you think you’ll be able to make it through the full moon. Can we please just drop it?” You grumbled since the whole debate was taking place with you in the middle, literally. “I’m serious,” Scott began which earned a huff from you and shake of Stiles’ head, “It’s not like the last full moon. I don’t feel the same.”

“Oh, does that include the urge to maim and kill people like us,” rebutted Stiles.

“I swear I don’t have the urge to maim and kill you.”

You scoffed, “Oh yeah, that’s super reassuring, thanks buddy.” Stiles pointed to you in agreement, “You know, you say that now but then the full moon goes up and the claws and fangs come out and there’s a lot of howling and screaming and running everywhere, okay?” The anxious boy didn’t even give himself time to take a full breath before his ramble continued, “And it’s very stressful on us and so yes, we’re still locking you up.”

Scott looked at you for support but only got a shrug from you, “Don’t look at me, I’m with him.”

“Okay, fine. But I do think I’m in more control now.” Scott conceited, “Especially since things are good with Allison.”

You and Stiles shared an unimpressed look, “Okay, we’re aware of how good things are with Allison.”

“They’re really good.”

“I- thank you, I know,” Stiles commented

“I mean, like, really good.”

“Alright I get it!” Stiles cut him off, “Please shut the hell up before I have the urge to maim and kill myself.”

“Why did my two best friends have to be boys,” you whined in complaint as Stiles wrapped his arm around you with a small laugh. Scott nudged your side before asking, “All right, did you get something better than handcuffs this time?”

“Yeah, much better,” Stiles took his arm off your shoulder to set his bag down and opened his locker but nothing could have prepared you for what came crashing out. Chains. Chains immediately came slithering out, getting the attention of not only the rest of the team but Coach as well.

“Kinky,” you muttered before Coach reached you. Both boys lightly smacked your shoulder as they stood silently and awkwardly, staring at the chains in panic while getting a judgmental look from Coach. “Part of me wants to ask, the other part says knowing will be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine, so I’m gonna walk away. Y/N meet me on the field in a few minutes.” You chuckled, “yes sir, I’ll be right there.”

“That’s good. That’s a wise choice, Coach,” called Stiles.

Both boys lent down to start collecting the chains, Stiles pulling you down as well. Not a moment later, Scott’s head raised and his eyes glowed catching your attention. “What- what is it,” you placed your hand on his shoulder, your concern catching the sarcastic boy’s attention as well. Scott didn’t answer you right away, instead his head moved in every direction looking at everyone in the locker room.

“You okay?” questioned Stiles, “Scott.”

His focus was finally broken, “There’s another. In here, right now.” Your eyebrows furrowed, “Another what,” Stiles and you asked. “Another werewolf.” That sure perked your attention, your eyes quickly scanned the room with no success of finding what you were looking for. You reached for your bag and stood up, “We’ll worry about that when we’re on the field, I’ll meet you guys out there.” Both of them nodded and continued to pick up the chains as you made your way outside.

You were discussing line up for the next game with Coach when the team, including Scott and Stiles, came jogging out. “So what if we set Jackson up here for the first half so-.”

“Hey Coach! Scott wants to be in goal today!” Stiles jogged up next to you, you looked at the boy in confusion. Scott hated playing goal, since when would he ever volunteer to be in goal? Coach said nothing but waved it off and nodded his head as he took your clipboard and walked off to review your placement suggestions. You turned to Stiles when you knew Coach was out of hearing range, “What are you two up to?”

“Scott needs to be close to someone to catch their scent, so if he switches with Danny-.”

“It’ll allow him to be one on one.” You nodded and Stiles gave you that goofy proud smile he has. You reached over the bleachers and gave him the goalie gear, “I’ll let Danny know.” Stiles gave you a thumbs up, “Great, awesome, you’re the best,” he gave you a surprise kiss on the cheek before dashing off with the gear. You laughed in disbelief before turning to find Danny in the crowd, instead you ended up making eye contact with the tall boy that never failed to make you smile. Raising your hand up, you gave him a wave and he returned the favor with what looked to be a nervous grin. Before you could question it to yourself, the whistle blew signaling practice was starting.

“Let’s go! Line it up! Faster!”

Everyone took their positions and Coach blew the whistle one more time, throwing the ball in the air. What occurred next, physically hurt you to have to see. Scott sprinted past defense and slammed the runner down. You felt your whole body wince as you watch him visibly sniff the kid before pulling him up. Unsurprisingly, Coach said something about the situation. Of course it did nothing to stop the supernatural boy, he slammed the next kid down, and the next. Each time Coach commented on it, but it never stopped Scott.

Coach grabbed Stiles’ helmet and gestured for you to come over, “Stilinski, Y/N, what the hell is wrong with your friend?”

“He’s failing two classes,” you started.

“He’s a little socially awkward,” Stiles listed, “and if you look close enough-.”

“His jaw line is kind of uneven,” you both finished. Coach glanced at you before pushing the boy away and turning back to the field, “That’s interesting,” he mumbled, walking away. Danny was the next one on the chopping block and you turned your head away because this time around it was just a little too rough for you to bare. Stiles placed his hand on your back to give you some slight comfort, “That’s gonna hurt in the morning.” You nodded in agreement.

“McCall! You come out of that goal one more time and you’ll be doing suicide runs till you die! It’ll be the first ever suicide run that actually ends in a suicide. Got it?”

“Yes, Coach.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “This is so embarrassing.” Stiles hummed in agreement.

“Uh, Coach, my shoulders hurting. I’m gonna- I’m gonna sit this one out,” Jackson said making his way to the bench. When he walked away you had finally realized who was in front of you and Stiles. Isaac. He was breathing really hard but not out of exhaustion, it almost sounded animalistic. Stiles tried to see in front of him before looking at you in concern. The whistle blew once more and Isaac began running.

“I don’t like the look of this,” you whispered to Stiles.

“Me neither.”

You couldn’t believe it, Scott dashed once more and when the two collided they both went so far in the air before both landed on their hands and knees. When they landed you felt like something in you was different, you realized your were correct when Stiles broke you out of your trance. “Hey, look down hurry,” he pushed your head down before you could even respond.

“What the hell, Stiles!”

“Y/N, stop. Your eyes.”

“My eyes? What about my eyes?”

“Y/N. Your eyes are glowing purple.”

~

“His father’s dead.”

The three of you stood watching Stiles’ dad, two other policemen, Coach and Isaac talk as Scott listened in, “They think he was murdered.” You had barely come to terms that Isaac was a werewolf and now you have to process the fact that his dad was murdered? You guys can seriously never catch a break.

Stiles leaned in closer to you two, “Are they saying he’s a suspect?”

“I’m not sure, why?”

“Because they can lock him in a holding cell for 24 hours,” you answered.

“Like, over night?” Stiles nodded, “During the full moon.” Scott looked at you two, “How good are these holding cells at holding people?” You sighed and closed your eyes, you couldn’t bare the stress anymore.

“People, good. Werewolves, probably not that good.” Stiles concluded while looking at you, his hand was back to its position on your back but this time it was to get your attention. You glanced up to meet his eyes and you saw exactly what he was thinking, what he was asking. ‘Are you gonna tell Scott about what happened?’ You shook your head lightly and gripped his arm, slightly squeezing so he would understand to let it go. He sighed before looking back at Scott.

“Guys, remember when I said I don’t have the urge to maim and kill?”

“Yeah,” you both replied.

“He does.”

The group of policemen, Sheriff and Isaac began to walk away, but not without Isaac turning his head back to look at you three. While you know he was just looking at you guys in general, you couldn’t help but feel like his gaze was for you. Rubbing your hand down your face, you gave Isaac one last look before grabbing Scott and Stiles’ hands, “Come on, we better go if we want to make it to Harris' in time. You guys can’t afford to be late, he hates your guts.” They both nodded before letting you lead them back towards to school. For the first time since maybe you three were born, you guys walked together to class silent. There’s was not a sound created between you three until you made it to chemistry, the only class where you sat in front of them rather than between them or next to at least one of them.

“Why would Derek choose Isaac?” You heard Scott ask.

“Peter told me that if the bite doesn’t turn you it could kill you.” You were grateful that your desk partner was Isaac right now, because if it wasn’t, you were positive who ever would’ve been placed next to you would hear everything, instead the seat is currently empty. “And maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving.”

“Does being a teenager mean your dad can’t hold him?”

“Well, not unless they have solid evidence or a witness. Wait.” You could hear Stiles turn in his chair, “Danny, where’s Jackson?”

“Principal’s office, talking to your dad.”

“What? Why?”

“Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac.” You felt yourself freeze. God damn it. Jackson is the last person you would want to be talking to Sheriff right now. You quickly put your pencil down and raised your hand, “Um, Mr. Harris, do you mind if I run to my locker quickly? I forgot my notes in there after practice.”

“Hurry.”

You heard the chairs of your best friends squeak as they turned towards you quickly, “Y/N what are you doing?” Scott whisper yelled but you ignored them, you had to get to the office, you couldn’t let that weasel make it seem like Isaac could have done this, especially when there’s the issue of the full moon tonight as well.

“Thank you, sir, sorry about that,” you said rushing out the door quickly and making your way to the office as fast as possible. Just before you made it too far you heard Mr. Harris, “Who in the hell did that?” You laughed and shook your head, you could always count on those bone heads to never let you do anything alone. You made it to the office and could see Jackson already talking to Stiles’ dad, you huffed and sat down in the chair outside, your leg bouncing as soon as you hit the cushion of the chair. Not even a minute later, the boys joined you, sitting on either side of you like usual.

“You guys are such dumbasses, you know that? I could’ve handled this.”

“Absolutely not,” they synced.

You kept quiet deciding it was better to just listen to the conversation going on inside the room rather than argue. “Wait, so are you telling me that you knew Isaac’s father was hitting him?”

“Hitting him? He was kicking the crap out of him.”

“Did you ever say anything to anyone? A teacher, parents, anyone?”

“Nope, it’s not my problem.”

You felt every ounce of rage boil up inside you. Jackson knew? Jackson fucking knew everything and never told ANYONE. You closed your eyes and clenched your fists so hard you swear you could draw blood at any moment.

“Y/N? Hey Y/N, calm down. Scott.” You felt what you assumed to be Stiles’ hands then felt another pair, which had to be Scott’s on your shoulders.

“Hey, I know you’re angry but you have to find a way to calm down, you’re making the papers on the board almost fly off,” Scott tried to rationalize. You tried to take deep breaths but nothing was working, you finally felt your hands being grabbed and intertwined with theirs. You took a moment to focus on them and it started to work, squeezing their hands you dropped your head, a few silent tears escaping your closed eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Scott reassured.

The office door opened, and you three parted, you took the opportunity to wipe your tears away as fast as you could. Scott looked in another direction and Stiles grabbed a magazine to try (and unsuccessfully) hide from his dad. When you were sure that all moisture was wiped away you met Sheriff’s eyes.

“Hi, Scott, Y/N.” You both waved before he cocked an eyebrow at his son and started to walk away. You touched both of their shoulders, “I’ll meet you guys later.”

They both looked at you, “What are you gonna do?”

“What I probably should’ve done a while ago,” you sighed earning you confused nods before you walked away.

“Sheriff.”

He turned around surprised to see you walking towards him, he waved to his deputy to let him know to keep walking before he gave you his full attention. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry kiddo but it might have to wait.”

“It’s about Isaac.” That got his attention, he kept your gaze for a moment before directing you to the side, “Okay what’s going on?” You opened your mouth to say something but no sound came out, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You took a deep breath before speaking once more.

“I knew.”

He didn’t say anything, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Well, to be more accurate, I was pretty sure. Pretty sure that Isaac’s dad was hurting him.”

“Well, that’s a lot to process. Did you ever say something, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t, Isaac wouldn’t let me. He kept denying it, saying ‘it was an accident’ or ‘I fell off my bike’ stuff like that. And I never had any solid proof so I didn’t say anything because if I couldn’t prove anything I would be saying, I didn’t want to chance Isaac getting seriously injured.”

You finally let yourself meet his eyes when you finished talking, he took a breath before nodded and placing a hand on your upper arm, “I understand but why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I may not know him like I do Scott and Stiles but I know he wouldn’t do something like this. I know you have to follow the path you're given but you have to look at other options, please, Sheriff. He would never do this.”

Sheriff gave you a slight smile, “Okay kiddo, I believe you, I still have to do my job but just know I believe you.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “Thank you, I’ve gotta get back to class.”

“Okay I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

You parted ways, making your way back to the office, to see the boys come out. Scott grabbed your arm and began rushing you towards the doors, “Come on.” You try to look back at Stiles to question what was going on but Scott had pulled you down the stairs and around the corner before you even had the chance.

“What the hell is going on?”

“I’ll tell you later but for right now just forget about it and come on!”

You matched his pace as best as you could, reaching the heavy blue doors and when you pushed them open you saw a cop car. Inside was Isaac, you guys must have caught his attention because he turned back when you had slammed the doors open. Scott went forward more while you just stood and looked at Isaac, you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t help him from here anyways since the car had already taken off and left the parking lot. You grunted out of frustration, “Great, what are we gonna do now?”

Scott never gave you an answer because Derek pulled up to the curb, “Get in.”

You scoffed, “Are you serious?”

“You did that, that’s your fault,” Scott finished for you.

“I know that. Now get in the car and help me.”

“Why should we,” you challenged, “You know, I’m starting to get real sick and tired of your demanding ass tone.”

Scott put his arm in front of you, stopping your advancing figure before you could make it to the car. “I’ve got a better idea. I’m gonna call a lawyer because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon goes up.”

“Not when they do a real search of the house.”

“What do you mean?” Scott had now made it to the window of the car. “Whatever Jackson said to the cops, what’s in the house is worse. A lot worse,” Derek popped his passenger door open, Scott looked at you and you huffed gesturing towards the door, you got in.

~

“If Isaac didn’t kill his father, then who did?”

“I don’t know yet,” Derek replied.

“Then how do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“Because I trust my senses. And it’s a combination of them, not just your sense of smell.” You smiled ever so slightly at the sentence.

“You saw the lacrosse thing today,” Scott stated embarrassed.

“Yeah.”

“Did it look that bad?”

“Yeah,” you spoke up, catching their attention.

You continued your way through the house, until Derek had directed you two to the basement, “You wanna learn,” he pointed down the stairs, “then start now.”

Scott made his way down the stairs and you just stared, you were scared if you were being honest. Scared to find something that would tell you that Isaac really did kill his father. Because if that was true, there wasn’t anyway you could help him even with the pleading you had done to Sheriff. Derek gave you a pointed look, “You need to come down here as well,” you raised your eyebrows, “Why?” you questioned him.

“He wouldn’t want you to see what’s down here but I think it’s important that you do.”

You nodded slightly at his statement, if Derek thought that then it had to be a big deal, the only person he really trusted was Scott and now probably Isaac. It only took you a moment to decide as you started your way down the stairs as well with even more caution than Scott had possessed. “What am I looking for?” Scott had interrupted your train of thought, “Follow your senses,” answered Derek. You guys made it down the stairs, you looked around until you came face to face with a mirror propped up on the ground. You couldn’t stop staring at your eyes, you knew you needed to tell Scott as soon as possible but it had to wait. Until Isaac was safe, until you could provide some answers to keep Scott from worrying about you. Derek had just finished talking to Scott, when he had stayed behind and just in front of you.

“Derek.”

He turned, giving you the go ahead to talk. You made sure that Scott was occupied with looking around before going on, “I know trust between us is below zero but can I ask you something?” The dark haired man hesitated before nodding slightly, “On the field today, when Scott was, well you know...my eyes.. Stiles said they glowed purple.” The man gave you a confused look before his eyes relaxed slightly, “Are you asking if I know what you are?” You shrugged, “I guess, I don’t know, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that, I’ve made my locker slam shut on its own and almost made papers go flying across the room.”

He thought for a moment, looking at you up and down almost as if he was doing some kind of analysis of you in his brain, “I’m sorry but I don’t know what you are.” You sighed and shrugged once more, “It was a long shot I guess.” Derek took another moment to pondered and turned his head to you once more, “Did those things happen when your emotions were at a peak?” You slowly nodded, a little bit embarrassed to admit that the things occurring were due to you not keeping your emotions in check.

“Well while I can’t tell you what you are, it sounds like whatever you possess is carried out mostly by emotions so using them to your advantage is going to be what helps you keep it under control.”

You took some time to process what he said, it seemed so simple and yet you had a feeling that it was gonna be far from that. Instead of pushing your luck you just nodded along to show that you understood, “Thanks.”

“One more thing, Derek.”

“What is it?”

“Is Isaac gonna be okay?”

“I’m going to get him out of there, however, even if he gets out of this situation, he’s gonna forever have to deal with what he went through in this room,” Derek pointed to across the room. You turned to see an ice box with chains next to it, you looked back at Derek and he nodded for you to go over to it. You met Scott over there, both of you grazing your hands over it, a light flashed in your eyes.

“Open it.”

Scott and you turned to each other, nodding you both grabbed the lid and opened it. You gasped when you saw it, scratches, scratches all through out the sides of the freezer. “He was locked in here,” you said, your hand covering your mouth. You backed away from the box shaking your head, “I need some fresh air.” Scott didn’t get a chance to say anything as you sprinted up the stairs, placing your back against the wall you heaved to catch your breath. Tears slipped down your face, you couldn’t believe the sweet boy you knew was going through something so horrific. You had to get him out of there. You took your phone out of your pocket and made your way to your contacts, it was pointless though because the person you were planning to call had beaten you to it.

“Hey, I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need your help, Allison said that- hey are you okay, have you been crying?”

You sniffled slightly before clearing your throat, “It’s fine, doesn’t matter, what about Allison?”

“She said that one of her dad’s guys went out, Y/N, he had wolfsbane with him.”

“They’re gonna kill him.”

“Yeah, I’m on my way to come pick you up, just hang tight.” You nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see it, “Yeah, okay, see you soon,” with that he hung up. After you had told Scott and Derek what was going on, Stiles had arrived to pick you up. Scott decided to stay since it wouldn’t be safe with the full moon out tonight. Stiles phone rang while he was speeding down the road as fast as he could, you took it from his cup holder and answered it, putting it on speaker, “Hey, did you slow him down?”

“You could say that.”

“Alright well, we’re heading to the station right now.”

“Where’s Scott?”

“Isaac’s,” you answered, “you should probably get over there as well.”

“Does he have a plan?”

Stiles side glanced you, “Yeah, but not a very good one. And unfortunately we don’t have time to come up with anything better.”

“Hence the ‘you should get over there too’,” you tried to joke. You ended the call as both of you looked through his dash board window at the moon. You were running out of time. “He’s gonna be okay,” Stiles tried to convince you.

“I really hope so.”

You finally made it to the station, when you felt the nerves getting to you, “Hey.” You looked at Stiles, he placed his hand on your head, “We’re gonna save him.”

“Let’s just go before I have a panic attack,” your attempt to be funny was interrupted by Derek showing up at the window. Stiles rolled down the window to explain the plan, “Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father’s office.”

“The problem is getting past the front desk,” you continued.

“I’ll distract her,” Derek concluded

You raised your eyebrows in disbelief as Stiles kept him from walking away, “Woah, woah, woah, you- you’re not going in there.” Derek said nothing but glanced at the hand currently on his shoulder, “I’m taking my hand off,” Stiles released his grip.

“I was exonerated.”

You scoffed, “I was exonerated,” you mocked the werewolf, “Like that matters at all you dumbass.”

“You’re still a person of interest,” the boy next to you explained.

“An innocent person.”

You both let out a sarcastic laugh, “You?” You synced, “Yeah, right!” He continued to stare at you both before Stiles sighed, “Okay, fine. What’s your plan?”

“To distract her,” Derek dragged.

“Uh-huh,” you mocked once more.

“How,” Stiles expressed, “by punching her in the face?”

“By talking to her.”

“Okay, alright, give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?”

Silence.

“Dead silence,” the boy concluded, “that should work beautifully, got any other ideas?”

“I’m thinking about punching you in the face.”

You groaned, “Oh my god, can we just go, please,” the attention was now on you, “You both can argue later.”

There was a silent agreement before Derek made his way inside, allowing you and Stiles to both slip past the lady and into the Sheriff’s office. While you acted as look out, he punched in the code to get the key, “It’s gone.” Your head snapped towards him, “It’s gone? What do you mean it’s gone,” his hands slapped to his side, “I mean the key is not in the box, the guy must have beaten us to it.”

“Well, then let’s go, there may still be time.” Both of you rushed down the hallway, bumping into what appeared to be an officer, only for you to both realize there was blood. “Ah, sh-,” the man grabbed Stiles before you both could get away, “Hey! Let him go, you bastard!” You tried to pry the guy’s hand that was holding the syringe away from Stiles’ neck but it was no use you didn’t have the strength to overpower him. You could at least keep him from getting any closer though. Stiles had pulled the fire alarm and you made it to the holding cells, still struggling against the man when you all realized that one of the doors had been ripped off, Isaac’s door.

The guy had been pried off of you two as you both dropped to the floor. It was Isaac, fully transformed, you both scrambled behind the desk as he fought off the man. He left him unconscious and his attention was now on you, he began his advance but was very quickly interrupted by Derek’s roar. You shook off the shock, got back on your feet and rushed over to the now cowering Isaac.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay you’re safe.” He glanced at you, “You came,” you nodded with a soft smile, “Yeah, yeah I did.” His head landed on your shoulder lightly, clearly exhausted you let him be, raking your hand through his hair lightly.

“How did you do that,” questioned Stiles.

“I’m the alpha.”

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

a/n: GUYS I WROTE THIS WHOLE THING IN A DAY! Am i gonna proof read it?? Probably not lol. Anyways let me know what you think, do you prefer the whole episode in one chapter or them broken up into two parts?? Also if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @somiaw

[the-heart-of-a-monster]

PUTTING THE NEW PAGE INTO THIS ASK AS WELL FOR GHE FIRST TIME BECAUSE THERE IS A LOT TO TALK ABOUT WITH THIS PAGE SO PLEASE BEAR WITH ME HERE

Ima start with the first panel because there’s already so much in that one single panel and it is gonna drive me nuts!

So first up, we have “Secret” Chaotix meeting room. Yes, this place is apparently being kept a secret from the public eye. This could be due to the Chaotix having to handle a bunch of super deep and disturbing cases that, if allowed to spill out into the public, would be catastrophic! Not in the sense that it would destroy the world or anything like that, but it’d certainly ruin their reputation as detectives! Don’t detectives irl have these kinds of cases too…? Or maybe I’m thinking too hard on this and it’s just the place they meet with their friends whenever Eggman does something stupid? Who knows.

I do know though that it looks beautiful and it looks like they’re actually in a room which, as an amateur artist myself, can only dream of achieving!! It looks so cool! I just… I adore your backgrounds and I can tell you put a lot of love and effort into making them, so please give yourself a pat on the back!

And maybe I’m reading too much into a single panel.

But that’s not all that we get to see!!! (No I’m not talking about the Chaotix even though I REALLY wanna talk about the Chaotix cuz they deserve more love and I’m so glad they’re here THANK YOUUUUUUUU) YEAH THAT’S RIGHT, SONIC IS FULLY CONVERTED TO DARK GAIA SONIC LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Well not fully converted, but we can clearly see that it’s taking a huge toll on his body! Not only are the markings now visible on him during the day, but it also seems to be siphoning his energy…? Kind of…? I mean, Sonic has been out cold since “Killing” Omega, and usually he wouldn’t be so out of it otherwise. And I can see a little tiny X over his Gaia eye, so… I’m not too sure, but what I am sure of is that this is BAD for Sonic. The poor guy is gonna have to deal with not only being corrupted during the day, but also at night, and that cannot be good for his psyche. It was bad enough when he had to be in a completely new body for just the nighttime, but now it’s for both day and night in its own way, and… Gosh, this is gonna be torture for Sonic once he wakes up.

Okay now onto the actually lore panels because there is so much to uncover but BEFORE WE GET INTO THE LORE PARTS OF ALL THAT LEMME JUST POINT OUT HOW PISSED SHADOW LOOKS IN THE SECOND PANEL BRO LOOKS LIKE HE WANTS TO PUNT CHIP INTO THE SUN FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER AND HE IS JUST SO OVERPROTECTIVE OF SONIC IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY I LOVE THIS ANGSTY EDGY BOY SO MUCH BUT I WANNA KNOW WHAT IS GOING THROUGH HIS HEAD RIGHT NOW WHY IS HE GLARING DAGGERS AT CHIP WHAT DID THIS LITTLE CREECHUR EVEN DO TO YOU SHADZ

Okay back to the lore-

So, im still gonna call Light Gaia as Chip because I still see a cute adorable fluffy fairy in those big brown eyes and I think he deserves a real name. Anyhow, Chip now is aware of him being a literal god. He says he regulates the day and Dark Gaia regulates the night. This kind of makes sense. Chip handles the sun and DG handles the moon. Think Luna and Celestia from MLP. And similar to those two as well, Dark Gaia got out of control like Luna did and created an eternal night. But this doesn’t really explain the planet splitting into a million giant pieces. (Not literally a million) Nor does it explain Chip losing his memory. Chip claims that whenever one of them falls out of line, the other will be there to pull them back together. Does this mean Chip or Dark Gaia have lost their memory before? Have the events of Unleashed happened before? How do they reign the other in?

These questions are probably gonna get answered in the next page lmao what am I doing-

Everything else is kinda sorta spelled out to us which I think is a good thing, since Chip is, in the story, explaining all of this to a group of people who had no idea about any of this for their entire lives. The poor Chaotix just got roped into this, they just want their pay. So with that in mind I don’t know what else to really cover…? Maybe I’ll notice something later on and just start spamming you with questions, who knows. For now I’m SUPER DUPER EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PAGE LET’S GO THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN CANNOT WAIT FOR NEXT WEEK

hell yeah do look out for the new page on monday :3 i love ur little big analysis its always the highlight of my week to see one

btw this goes out to evecryone but the whole scene has a lot of moments for everyone else than sonic and shadow so we are winning

[kings-highway]

Hi King!!! I absolutely adore your fics my dude, I found your trapped in the wilderness fic like a year or two back, forgot about it, and then found your Daichi time travel fic. So you can imagine my delighted surprise when I looked at your ao3 account and found out this was the same author! I was like “0o0, I KNOW YOU!! :D” Suffice to say I love your Haikyuu fics they are an absolute gem to read (Time Enough to Risk it All and Paranormality are my personal faves)

I had a question for you, similar to a previous ask you got about tips on writing? Not general tips mind you, I’m trying to write a Haikyuu fanfic myself starring Oikawa, and I wanted to know if you had any writing tips regarding character writing specifically? Like, in regards to getting into a character’s head and how that influences the POV? I’m probably going to have multiple POVs in different chapters, but I don’t want to run into the old trap of, “These are two separate characters but they sound like the same person” y’know? Also want to make sure I’m avoiding OOC territory, while taking any potential plot developments and how that would change a character into account. And I know you’re good at that, all your interpretations of the Haikyuu cast feel distinct yet true to the characters at their core!

aaaaaaaaaa oh my god thank you so much 😭 I'm very glad you've liked my silly stories so much. I will do my best to provide advice for your question here...

**Keeping Characters In Character - this is VERY fanfic specific!!**

[obv. writing original work requires strong character voice but the question and this response is super focused on characters that you have source material to work with]

1. my immediate first thought, and the thing I default to the most, is **Pay Attention To How Other Characters Talk About Them** yes, its all fine and dandy to go off and say "oh theyve got these secret other side-" because yeah!! they probably do!! everyone is multiple people depending on the circumstance!! but the way other characters talk about them or act around them really will define how your character is behaving, because it shows how they are *choosing* to behave (and what can be seen from the outside) Paying attention to the relative relationships of these characters describing them matter too. Here are examples (all from Haikyuu) of how I do this:

1. Daichi

[in early season 1, when Daichi gets mad at the duo, Suga and Tanaka both start trying to fuck off out of scene in preparation; similarly, both Suga and Tanaka try to hide their secret practice from him.] = People are generally afraid of him, or aware that getting yelled at is on the table, but he's predictable. They both start acting afraid BEFORE he gets angry because they are familiar with his patterns. [Suga and Asahi comment on it feeling weird when he's nice to them, and he snaps at them to say he could be mean instead.] = His casual conversational tone isn't very complimentary. Since we dont see him being overtly mean, I asssume this means he is on the quieter side, probably very reserved, and typically speaks up to correct someone or direct and take control of a conversation. Being overtly nice is seen as a deviation is his conversational habits. [Noya acts very distinctly interested and pleased when he learns Daichi has given him a cool nickname] = People hold a lot of respect for him. Given the previous details, we can assume this is at least in part due to him often withholding such praise, but also we can use it to temper the previous notes. His "meanness" is not coming across as malice, but rather something worth respecting or justified in some way.

Application in Writing: Dialogue should be direct and consistent, use shorter sentences and have him think before he speaks. He finds annoyance and anger easier to express and will likely withhold affectionate conversations from everyone regardless of closeness of friendship level. While he comes across mean, he is not insulting, belittling or cruel, and since people have significant respect for him, he likely avoids situations that would make him look foolish, and will probably be the last to join in on the fun.

QUICKER EXAMPLES:

2. Suga [Every character describes Suga as nice and kind, there is no "bad review" of him.] = No matter his opinion of someone, Suga will use kind, gentle language with them and avoid giving them a reason to dislike him.

3. Oikawa [Iwaizumi, in voice over, says something to the effect of: "despite how he might seem, Oikawa is actually a pretty goofy guy."] = While not given the opportunity often, Oikawa is playful, unserious and silly - the word "goofy" is important to note. Its not funny. Comedians are funny. Dogs with long floopy ears are "goofy" - However he either intentionally or unintentionally chooses not to behave this way often. Either way, he has distinct "sides" to him that can be identified. However, his natural state is far more goofy than we give him credit for, so he will likely be the first to crack jokes, laugh at dumb things, or general want to lighten the mood. He doesnt like things to be gloomy and may actively resist that kind of conversation or situation.

4. Leon calling Ushijima a "super volleyball idiot" says way more about his behaviour off the court than anything Ushijima ever did. Oikawa and Kageyama and Hinata and Atsumu get to be monsters but no, Leon says its the term "we" are most "satisfied with". Did they pitch other names? They do not take Ushijima seriously at all. So his terrifying persona is probably very superficial. None of the team has ever had an actually bad experience with him, and he is very consistent in his likes and desires: probably doesnt have a (conversationally) confrontational bone in his body. "We could call him a monster but nah, he's too fucking weird for that." Like what more of a character study do you need!! Leon STOP.

This is dragging on longer than I want it to. I apologize. I could have more to say on the matter but to sum it up quick:

People, humans, are multifaceted, but ultimately are most defined by how they are remembered, and how they choose to present themselves to the world. This is will affect that "voice" that you're worried about sounding the same. Ultimately, all your characters will be the same. Everyone is insecure, everyone wants to be seen as attractive, everyone things theyre not good enough, everyone worries their lover will grow tired of them, everyone thinks they are the only person to have ever felt that way. The change, that voice, is how they want everyone else to look at them.

Using the previous notes, we can answer the question: "Oh my god, You look really good today!!" 4 ways. Internally, they're all very happy to receive a compliment because they wore a new shirt and they weren't sure it looked good. Externally...

Daichi: "Oh. Thank you."

Suga: "Ohh, Thank you! That's so sweet of you to say."

Oikawa: "I look really good today? Did I not yesterday? Ah, just messing with you - I know I looked good yesterday."

Ushijima: "I do? Good."

LAST TANGENT:

if you are NATIVE ENGLISH and youre writing fanfiction for NON-ENGLISH SHOW. IDC if youre a subtitles purist, WATCH IT IN ENGLISH. being able to (in your native language) use the characters voice in your head to read dialogue makes a world of difference. I DONT CARE if you can head Sugas Japanese VA perfectly - UNLESS YOU SPEAK JAPANESE IT WONT HELP.

Whenever I'm struggling with writing Sugawara, or a l think he's OOC, I just mentally replay the soundbite from the dub of him going "Good Grief!" like a goddamn oeanuts character and then its like "oh yeah. he's back. i know how to write him now."

I have a few of these little soundbite grounding things for some of them. Its REALLY helpful to be able hear the characters voices saying the lines (sorry if youre deaf..) and if you CANT (and you normally can) then maybe the dialogue is ooc.

WAIT ONE MORE TANGENT:

"King, you've only talked about dialogue??? what about-" Dialogue controls actions!!! if you can get a characters conversational tone and linguistic habits down, you'll have NO ISSUES keeping their physical habits in check.

thus concludes another advice corner. i am working on the other questions atm but i have limited time and cannot do more than 1 after work without my brain melting so :)

thanks for reading :) happy writing

xx

[ratwife77]

Headcanons for Dallas because he’s interesting

I didn’t mean for this to get so dark I swear

Warnings: drugs, cigarettes, alcohol, arson, violence, intrusive thoughts, suicide, self harm

(Yikes I didn’t realize there were so many.. please lmk if there are more)

Also give me thoughts- idk if this is in character or if I’m projecting too much lol

He hates the smell of flowers, prefers a.. deeper(?) smell, not so light (or feminine but yeah)

He stays away from drugs (minus alcohol and cigarettes technically) because they remind him of people he doesn’t want to be- he also doesn’t like the idea of losing so much control

Related to this, he usually never gets super drunk because it makes him nervous, but if he feels bad enough, he will

He doesn’t actively self harm but sometimes when he sees a lighter or switchblade he thinks about it

Just generally lots of intrusive thoughts and passive suicidal ideation

When he’s not on a low he doesn’t let himself get too happy because he knows it’ll come back

Sometimes he gives little hints or acts out, kind of a cry for help, but most of the time nobody notices except the gang and if they do they don’t know how to help, but they try

He gets sick twice a year, same time every year. One is the stomach bug, the other is the flu.

Oppositional Defiance Disorder- (I have it myself so this is my research+experience, not everyone’s) He feels like other people are against him and trying to hurt him- as a result he lashes out

Often, he feels out of control of this, hence the fear of losing control, he regrets things he says but doesn’t apologize much because it’s too hard

He goes from so angry to being calm and he hates that he’s so volatile

But sometimes he’s very aware that what he’s doing is wrong (other times he’s so emotional it’s hard to tell in the moment) and he just lets go because what’s the worst that could happen? Jail?

In jail he regrets it and gets out on good behavior if he can

Sometimes he smells smoke when there isn’t any, and he’s sort of nervous about fires starting and checks that nothing could start a fire before he goes to sleep

This is because one of the houses he was in as a kid was burnt down

His mom was already pretty sick so even then he knew she’d die eventually, but it was a gruesome way to go out

He knows it wasn’t an accident and suspects that someone did it

His nose is crooked because it’s been broken so many times

He knows how to set something that’s dislocated

In addition to being proud of his rap sheet, he’s proud of his scars

He runs his hands through his hair when nervous

He feeds this one stray dog

Hates hates hates any animal other than a dog or snake

Speaking of he just found a snake and kept it as a kid

But his dad didn’t know, he was usually not sober

He wears the same boots everyday

He doesn’t eat all day but eats a big enough dinner to cover it

Has the weirdest cravings

Likes KETCHUP!!!???!!!??!

Gross

Anyway his hair doesn’t grow fast so he doesn’t have to cut it as much, it’s been down to his shoulders for like three years

He can’t sit still ever

He never thought he’d make it to seventeen and thus has no plans for the future

[solxamber]

Hi hi solxamber!! (Is that spelled right?) I hope you’re having a lovely day/night! if you would allow me too I’d like to make a request/ask, ignore this if you wish!

But freshwater stingray yuu! She’s so sweet with everyone (even though she may be such a quiet person) and super calming too! But she’s so misunderstood (◞ ‸ ◟ㆀ). Kinda like how a lot of humans now treat wild stingrays, they think she’s dangerous and always aggressive! But really she just wants a friend (；へ：). Oh! And she’s also very tall too! Like Floyd tall, since freshwater stingrays are some of the biggest known rays in the world! She also has a long, whip-like, stinger (tail) that she can’t control even in the water! Maybe this in a small one-shot form (if you do that!) with Octavinelle and Diasomnia? I feel as if specifically Malleus and her would relate to each other very well with them both feeling isolated and feared because of something that they really can’t control!

Please feel free to ignore this if you wish! You are under absolutely no obligation to respond to my request! Sorry if it was really long (I’m severely hyperfixated on any form of marine life) 人(_ _*)

And do you do anon names? If so could I be a 🪼anon?

Octavinelle, Diasomnia with Freshwater Stingray! Reader

hi! yeah you can be 🪼 anon! and don't worry about the length at all, the more detailed, the more fun i have writing it! thank you for waiting and i hope you like it <3 and it's spelled right! you can just call me sol tho!

Azul Ashengrotto:

You sit in the quiet corner of the Mostro Lounge, sipping tea and trying to keep your long tail from accidentally knocking anything over. It’s always the same—people giving you wary glances, as if you’re a threat just waiting to explode. Your tail, with its unpredictable movements, has always been a point of misunderstanding, and despite your calmness and sweet demeanor, most people steer clear of you.

Azul has been watching you for a while now, his sharp eyes glinting behind his glasses. He finally makes his way over, that ever-confident smile in place as he sets a fresh cup of tea in front of you.

"Everything to your liking?" he asks, voice smooth as ever, but there’s a hint of something more—genuine curiosity, perhaps?

You look up, startled. "It’s fine," you mumble, trying not to let your tail twitch in nervousness. But of course, it does, brushing lightly against the floor. You freeze, pulling it in tightly to your side.

Azul’s eyes follow the movement, and instead of the discomfort you usually see in people, there’s only understanding in his gaze. He leans in a bit, resting his elbow on the table. "It must be difficult," he says softly, "having to be so aware of your tail all the time, when people can’t see beyond it."

You blink, surprised at how easily he’s put it into words. "Yeah," you admit, glancing down at your cup. "People think I’m dangerous. But I just… I don’t want to hurt anyone." Your voice trails off, soft and sincere.

Azul chuckles, though not unkindly. "I understand more than you think. People often mistake strength for malice. They forget that control takes time." He gestures vaguely toward his own carefully controlled smile, his smooth façade of confidence. "And patience."

You tilt your head, meeting his eyes for the first time properly. "You... you don’t think I’m dangerous?"

"On the contrary," he says with a smirk, "I think you’re someone worth knowing. Dangerously misunderstood, perhaps, but aren’t we all?"

You can’t help but smile a little at that. For the first time in a long while, you feel like someone is seeing you, not your tail or your height, but you.

Floyd Leech:

You’re wandering through the courtyard when Floyd spots you, and of course, he makes a beeline in your direction, grinning like a shark who’s just spotted prey.

"Heyyy, Shrimpy!" he calls out, stretching his arms over his head lazily. You brace yourself, knowing that Floyd isn’t exactly one to respect personal space.

"Hi, Floyd," you say softly, still trying to keep your voice friendly despite the knot of nerves forming in your stomach.

As expected, he immediately slings an arm around your shoulders, oblivious to the way your tail twitches nervously behind you. "Whatcha doin'? Lookin' all serious. You plannin' to sting someone with that big tail of yours?"

You blink, startled by how casually he brings it up, but you know Floyd doesn’t mean any harm by it—he’s just Floyd. "No," you say quickly, "I don’t sting people. It’s not like that. I don’t want to hurt anyone."

He gives you a curious look, then laughs. "Aw, I know, I know! I’m just messing with ya!" His grip tightens slightly as he leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But y'know, if anyone’s ever giving ya trouble, just say the word, and I’ll help ya take 'em down. Sting 'em, punch 'em, doesn’t matter!"

You blink again, unsure how to respond to Floyd’s unique brand of... support. But something about his carefree attitude puts you at ease, and you find yourself smiling despite everything. "Thanks, Floyd," you say quietly.

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "No problem, Shrimpy! Let’s go find someone to mess with, yeah?"

Jade Leech:

It’s in the depths of the Coral Sea when you first meet Jade properly. He’s calm and composed, as always, but there’s a calculating gleam in his eyes that makes you nervous. You’ve always been wary of people who observe more than they say—those are the ones who usually misunderstand you the most.

"Ah, you must be the freshwater stingray everyone’s been talking about," Jade says with a polite smile, his eyes scanning your tall form, lingering on your tail for just a second longer than usual.

You nod slowly, unsure of what to say. "Yes. And you must be Jade."

"Indeed," he replies smoothly. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard quite a few interesting things about you."

You wince internally, imagining all the rumors about how "dangerous" and "unpredictable" you are. But Jade doesn’t seem fazed. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. "It must be difficult," he muses, "being constantly misunderstood because of something you cannot control."

You blink, caught off guard by his words. "Y-yes," you stammer, "it is. But I try not to let it bother me."

Jade’s smile widens, and for the first time, you see a genuine warmth behind his usual calculating demeanor. "That is a wise approach. I believe there is much more to you than others realize. Perhaps we can... learn more about each other."

You feel a flicker of warmth in your chest. Maybe this encounter isn’t so bad after all.

Malleus Draconia:

You’re floating near the edge of the lake when you sense someone watching you. You turn slowly, and there, standing by the water’s edge, is Malleus, his dark eyes focused on you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

You’ve always felt a strange connection to Malleus. Both of you are feared for reasons beyond your control, and both of you know what it’s like to be isolated because of it.

"Good evening," he says softly, his voice deep and soothing.

"Good evening, Malleus," you reply quietly, moving closer to the shore. "What brings you here?"

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he gazes out at the water, his expression thoughtful. "I often find solace near the water," he admits. "It’s... calming."

You nod in agreement, understanding exactly what he means. "It’s the same for me. People seem to think we’re dangerous just because of how we look. But the water... it doesn’t judge."

Malleus turns to look at you then, his eyes softening. "Yes," he murmurs. "We are not so different, are we?"

For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable silence, sharing an unspoken understanding that words could never fully capture.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he glides through the air, catching sight of you as you swim quietly near the edge of the lake. He lands gracefully on a nearby rock, grinning widely. "Ah, my dear stingray! How does the evening treat you?" he calls out, his voice filled with playful energy.

You blink in surprise, unused to such cheerfulness, but you offer a small smile in return. "It’s... peaceful," you reply softly. "I like the quiet."

Lilia chuckles, sitting cross-legged on the rock as he watches you, his eyes glimmering with curiosity. "You always seem so quiet and calm. Yet I hear rumors—some people say you're dangerous!" He laughs at the absurdity of it, as if the idea is nothing but a joke to him.

You sigh, glancing down at the water, your long tail swaying gently beneath the surface. "They think I’m dangerous because of my tail. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but… it’s hard to control sometimes."

Lilia hums thoughtfully, leaning forward a bit. "Ah, but isn’t that the way with most things in life? The most wonderful, powerful things are often the ones most misunderstood." He winks at you, as if sharing a secret.

You can’t help but smile at his words. There’s something so comforting about Lilia’s playful wisdom, and you feel your usual anxiety melting away. "Maybe you’re right," you say quietly. "It’s just… hard."

Lilia nods sagely. "Hard, yes. But don’t let that stop you from being who you are. Strength and kindness aren’t mutually exclusive, you know. You remind me of myself in my younger days!" He laughs again, the sound bright and infectious.

You chuckle softly, feeling a bit lighter. "Thank you, Lilia."

He winks again, standing up with a flourish. "Anytime, my dear! Now, shall we play a game? I bet you can’t catch me!" Before you can protest, he takes off into the air, leaving you laughing quietly at his endless energy.

Silver:

Silver is resting under the shade of a large tree when you spot him, his eyes closed as he naps peacefully. You hover nearby, not wanting to disturb him, but your tail accidentally swishes too close to a branch, causing it to rustle loudly.

Silver’s eyes blink open slowly, his gaze finding you immediately. He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Oh… it’s you," he murmurs, his voice still soft with drowsiness.

"Sorry," you mumble, embarrassed that you woke him up. "I didn’t mean to… my tail…" You trail off, trying to tuck your tail away behind you, but it flicks out again despite your best efforts.

Silver shakes his head, giving you a gentle smile. "It’s okay. You didn’t wake me on purpose."

You feel a warmth spread in your chest at his understanding. Silver is always so calm and kind, never judging you the way others do. "Still, I’m sorry," you say, moving closer to sit beside him.

He watches you for a moment before speaking. "You don’t need to apologize for something you can’t control," he says quietly. "I know what it’s like to be misunderstood. People think I’m lazy because I fall asleep a lot, but it’s just… how I am."

You look at him in surprise. "I didn’t know that. I thought you just liked to nap."

He chuckles softly, leaning back against the tree. "Maybe a little. But it’s more than that." He pauses, then turns to you with a soft smile. "I don’t think you’re dangerous. You’re just… you."

His words are so simple, but they mean more to you than he knows. You smile back at him, feeling a little lighter. "Thank you, Silver."

Silver nods, his eyes closing again as he drifts off into another peaceful nap, leaving you to quietly enjoy the moment beside him.

Sebek Zigvolt:

You’re swimming near the edge of the lake when Sebek marches over, his loud voice cutting through the peaceful air. "Ah, there you are! I’ve been searching for you!" he declares, arms crossed and chin held high.

You blink, startled by his abrupt arrival. "O-oh, hello, Sebek."

He stares down at you, his expression serious as usual. "You must stop hiding yourself away like this! It is unbecoming of someone with such... size and stature!" His tone is as sharp as ever, but you know he means well—he’s just... Sebek.

You glance down at the water, feeling a bit self-conscious. "I’m not hiding. I just like the quiet."

Sebek huffs, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "Nonsense! You should be standing tall and proud! You are far too... graceful to be skulking about like some common creature of the sea!"

You blink in surprise at his words, unsure how to respond. "Um... thank you?"

Sebek’s eyes narrow, as if he’s not quite sure you understand his point. "Do not mistake me! I am simply saying that you are far too formidable to let others fear you so easily!" He pauses, his voice lowering slightly. "It is... their loss if they cannot see that."

Your heart warms at his unexpected compliment. Sebek might be loud and brash, but his words hold a certain sincerity that you can’t ignore. You smile up at him. "That’s... really nice of you to say, Sebek."

He stiffens, his cheeks flushing slightly as he clears his throat. "W-well, I am merely stating the facts! Now, come! We must train! A creature as powerful as you should not waste your time in solitude!"

Despite his usual intensity, you can’t help but smile. "Alright, Sebek. Let’s train."

With a proud nod, Sebek leads the way, his loud voice echoing through the air as you follow, feeling just a little bit more understood.

Masterlist

[metallicaislife]

Long Day

A/N: Other than the 80's I am not as familiar with the eras, so I hope this the correct era in the gif 🥲 hope this turned out good!

Requested by: Anon

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 834

Warnings: none, the hurt comes from your own feelings and Kirk comforts you :')

It was one of those days. I counted down the time until I could clock out and go home. But of course the time dragged on as if I was running through molasses. If anything could go wrong, it went wrong. Between phone calls, emails and coworkers interrupting me anytime I got into a grove of my usual work load, I definitely wasn't going to finish everything meaning this shitty day would bleed into tomorrow making it not only a current problem, but it would be future Y/N’s problem too. 

All that to say I was overwhelmed and in tears by the time I clocked out. As always I called my boyfriend from the car on my drive home. 

“Hey baby.” He answered. 

“Hi, Kirk.” I said, attempting to keep my voice even, but I could hear the shakiness as I spoke the two words.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, worry was evident in his voice. 

“Um… yeah everything is fine.” I replied. 

“I don’t believe you… Just get home safe and you can tell me all about it.” His voice was so comforting. I knew a warm hug awaited me and it made more tears fall. 

“Okay.” I croaked, then hung up. 

I safely pulled into the driveway of the house Kirk and I had been living in for about a year now. I grabbed my bag and made my way inside. I slipped off my shoes, and hung my bag. Kirk came around the corner and fresh tears fell as he pulled me into a warm embrace. He cradled my head and rubbed my back. After I composed myself I pulled away. He used his thumbs to wipe at the tear stains on my cheeks. 

“So everything is fine, huh?” He teased with a small smile. 

“No… I mean, I’m just overwhelmed. It was one of those days ya know.” I said. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. Kirk was always so kind, and respected my boundaries,  he would give me space when I needed to mull over things before confiding in him. 

“Yeah, can we just snuggle and order some take out?” I asked. 

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” He smiled at me, I smiled softly for the first time that day since leaving for work in the morning. 

I changed into something more comfortable and crawled into bed with Kirk. We faced each other, legs intertwined as he drew soft shapes on my face. 

“What happened today?” He asked softly. 

“We were super busy, so I got behind on my normal workload, which will affect tomorrow since I’ll need to catch up and hope we don’t get lots of calls or emails to the front desk. I just hate getting behind on things. I know my bosses are aware of how hard I work but with days like these I feel inadequate, like I could’ve done more to accomplish everything.” I relayed my day as a fresh set of tears formed, “I feel like I have imposter syndrome, that they’ll realize I’m not an asset to the company and they’ll just get rid of me.” 

“Hey, hey. No, none of that. I mean your feelings are valid, and you’re allowed to feel those things, but please don’t dwell on them.” He started as he traced up and down my spine, “you work so hard, and you couldn’t have known that you would get an influx of the other things outside your usual workload. If your bosses don’t see all the hard work you do, that’s on them. You can’t control that, even though we all wish we could control how others view us. You gave it your all today and accomplished what you could given the circumstances. You’re not a robot and nobody should expect you to be able to control all these outside forces just so you can finish your whole work load in the allotted 9 to 5 hours. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, you did a great job.” He finished his little speech with sweet praise. I moved closer burying my face in his chest. 

“Thank you.” I said, though it was muffled. He nuzzled his head into mine. 

“Any time, baby. Whenever you feel that way, I’ll be here to remind you that you’re doing your best and absolutely killing it.” He replied. We stayed in the embrace until my tummy gurgled indicating I was hungry. 

“Let’s get you fed, then we can snuggle some more, maybe put a movie on. How does that sound?” He asked, pulling back enough so he could look down at me. 

“That sounds perfect.” I replied with a genuine smile. 

He kissed my forehead and left me in bed as he went to call in our regular take out order. 

I’ll always be grateful for my sweet Kirk who is always willing to help bring me back down to reality when my head gets away from me with the negative thoughts.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[dappledpaintbrush]

What do you think of the SPM villains as a whole? I'm going to make a wild guess and assume your favourite is Dimentio based off only my obvious mind reading intellect-

Please go into as much detail as your heart desires. I love this game a lot and hearing about it makes me very happy. It's my special interest, and I am deprived of obsessive rants over this game that aren't my own.

I hate dimentio fym. Let’s kill him.

LMAOAOAOAOAO but real talk: ANOTHER PERSON WITH AN SPM SPECIAL INTEREST?;?? WOOHOO!!!!! HIP! HIP! HOORAY!! we are now Blood Brothers

I apologize if I’m misinterpreting and you have already seen the post, but I have answered an ask before that is what you’re looking for- here it is! :3 I went into hefty detail on each member of Team Bleck. Trust me, it’s very long LMAOAO

HOWEVER… if you are not talking about just Team Bleck and are referring to the other villains as well- then…

Fracktail/Wracktail:

Fracktail has always. Stuck with me. First of all, his theme goes HARD????? Good lord, go ACTUALLY listen to it if you haven’t. It’s the equivalent of this

Anyways, Fracktail has always made me feel sad. And when I was younger, he scared me. It scared me that he died for something that wasn’t even his fault. Like dude usually when characters get brainwashed and they eventually regain control, they get a happy ending and stuff. Fracktail BLEW UP??? I personally just can’t stand it when characters reap something they never sowed- and this applies to characters as minuscule as Fracktail.

Now. Wracktail. He is. Interesting.

Both Fracktail and Wracktail are incredible examples of how INSANELY POWERFUL Ancient magic is, but Wracktail is a bit different. Wracktail refers to himself as a god multiple times. Is this actually true, or is he “making it up” or exaggerating? Were the Ancients capable of CREATING DEITIES? Were Grambi and Jaydes former Ancients who turned themselves into gods? Are the Pixls classified as gods? After all, both the Pixls and Wracktail are immortal unless harmed, and they were both created by the ancients. But if you can die from an injury, are you really a god? Or, like I stated before, is Wracktail not actually a god?Something else interesting is that Wracktail seems to be aware of Shadoo’s existence. HOW? Does Wracktail posses some kind of omnipotence? Did Shadoo reveal herself to Wracktail out of pity because they were both created and ruined by the Ancients? HOW. WHAT. WHY. Ugh I could go on FOREVER. It’s not that deep, sure, but it’s fun to ponder.

Bonechill:

Bonechill. Was. Wasted.

One of the MOST intriguing parts about Super Paper Mario is- and I’ve talked about this a lot- the extremely bold references to Christianity. Bonechill is a carbon fucking copy of Satan, and he was BOOOOOOOORRRINGG

WHY . WHY DID THEY WASTE THIS CHARACTER. WHY CAN YOU BEAT HIM SO FAST IT CAN BE TURNED INTO A GIF. HOW DOES HE KNOW ABOUT LUVBI BEING A PURE HEART?? Oh yeah, I know, BECAUSE HE WAS A FALLEN ANGEL, AND CLEARLY HE HAD TO HAVE BEEN EXTREMELY CLOSE WITH AND TRUSTED BY GRAMBI TO BE AWARE OF LUVBI’S ORIGINS. HELL, EVEN IF BONECHILL SPIED ON A CONVERSATION OR SOMETHING, HE STILL HAD TO HAVE BEEN VERY CLOSE WITH GRAMBI TO BE CAPABLE OF DOING THAT. IS THAT WHY HE WAS CASTED OUT OF HEAVEN? BECAUSE HE BETRAYED GRAMBI? YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SHOULDVE DONE? THEY SHOULDVE HAD A SCENE BETWEEN GRAMBI AND BONECHILL ABOUT THIS. BUT NOOOOOOOOOO MY NAME IS BONECHILL IM EVIL MWHAHAHAAH OHH IM DEAD DAMN NVM! FUCK.

But on a funnier note this part in KoopaKungFu’s let’s play always made me laugh as a kid

But What do you mean Bonechill was just. Standing there. I know nobody commented on it because this is a video game (it’s funny regardless LMAO). BUT WERE GRAMBI AND BONECHILL TALKING (I say talking, but this doesn’t mean they were calm about it) ABOUT THEIR PAST? OR DID THEY FIGHT BECAUSE GRAMBI IS INJURED. DID THEY DO BOTH? WHY. WAS . THE FACT. BONECHILL. KNOWS. ABOUT. LUVBI. AND. THAT. HE. WAS. A . FALLEN. ANGEL. NEVER. TALKED. ABOUT. MY BLOOD. PRESSURE. IS. RISING.

Blumiere’s Father:

I wish I could say a lot more about him, but surprisingly I’ve never gotten around to making headcanons for him/Blumiere. It’s crazy because you know that in his head he believes he is doing the right thing for his son and for the Tribe of Darkness as a whole. What kind of indoctrination did he have to go through to believe that KILLING somebody simply because she and his son loved one another was a rational and reasonable course of action. God I wish we knew at least a LITTLE more about him- but the minuscule amount of scenes he has makes his impact on the story that much more harrowing.

King Croacus:

I fw King Croacus heavy. My favorite drag queen of all time. God he’s so cool.

As somebody who is lore obsessed, I ADORE the fact we got so many details on the rulers of the Floro Sapiens. It’s something the developers did not have to do yet they did it anyways. Every time I walk through that hall in the game I read every single plaque.

It’s also? Really disturbing how we KILLED this guy? I know he comes back post-game but like regardless we did kill a guy who’s mind was deteriorating because of polluted water. Like that shit wasn’t his fault. He died for the faults of the Cragnons, who basically got off scot-free (unless you killed some of the brainwashed individuals). It’s an interesting metaphor for a variety of things that occur in reality.

Also, his theme is REALLY underrated. I know it’s simple, but I love it so much. King Croacus fans ASSEMBLE!

Francis:

When you’re trying to save all worlds but this fuckass Redditor downvotes you

Francis was one of the most genius parts of this game. Holy shit. I don’t even know what to say. He was so ahead of his time it’s actually scary. That whole chapter is one of the funnest parts of the game. All the niche references, the poking fun at Francis-like people, god it’s PEAK.

Something that’s interesting is that his Castle is implied to be where the Tribe of Darkness lived. Which is fucking hilarious. I personally prefer the idea that Castle Bleck was the old TOD home but that’s literally wrong. Carson said the TOD lives in a castle in the woods. Where do we see a castle in the woods. Uh huh. (I can get even more insane- the podium where Tippi’s cage was held. The podium that for some reason has a mechanism to hide it deep in the ground. Hmmm. A book can fit there. Can’t it. HMMMM) (I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel man somebody save me).

Also. Wokackness aside. Francis is terrifyingly smart. He created a PIXL. That’s something that I feel like is incredibly overlooked. How did he do that. How. ? HUH. ????????

Pixl Queen/Shadoo:

well you see uh

(no but seriously. I don’t even know where to begin. She’s one of my favorite characters in the game and we never ever get to see her. She’s heartbreaking. She’s devastating. She’s terrifying. She has nobody looking out for her. She is alone. But she fights so hard to be seen. She starts a war. She tries to kill every walking Ancient and the heroes of the Light Prognosticus. She screams and she cries and she begs and she pleas but nobody can hear her nor is listening. She is punished for being loved. She is punished for her wrath. She is still here in the form of shadows in the cracks on the Trial walls but is that even her anymore? She did not deserve to die so young, but that death was infinitely more merciful than all that occurred after. She was born to die. It’s why she is still alive.)

Big Blooper:

blooooop lmao