#i'm sorry for anyone that still cared about supernatural

[ja3honey]

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐬, 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬 ♡

Day 31 : Trick Or Teat

【Synopsis】 : The dead of night, creatures hide. In the light of a fire, those same creatures can become more.

『Word count』 :  7.01k

-> Genre: Supernatural. Smut. Angst. Fluff.

Paring: Yungi x Reader | Seonghwa x Reader [Eventual ot8 x Reader] 

[Warnings] : Self hatred. Abusive family. toxic family. Cult-like religon. Myths and supernatural concepts. The reader is giving off Genderfluid in some parts [not me projecting whoops]. hints of sexual abuse. Blood. Gore. Dark themes. Blood drinking. Kissing. Swearing. All the boys have a corruption kink cause why not. Fingering. Seonghw has a bit of a superiority complex. Details of torture and killing people. Unprotected sex. Yunho and Mingi are little shits. Eheh

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Surprise!! This is the very first chapter and introduction to my new mini series I'll be writing. I know a lot of you have been wanting Vampire Ateez ot8x reader for a while, and I've been trying to find a good story, and i finally got one, hehe. Also, I wanted to make this fic extra long as well to say thank you for 4k followers. I still want to do an event, but I'm taking a little break first, so I hope this is okay for now.

I LOVE YOU ALL ♡♡♡

Check out the mini series masterlist -> [coming soon]

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Part Two

The Destiny Castle was filled with darkness and death. Guard dogs, the size of cows and strange beastly noises echoing in the forest surrounding. And warnings to anyone that enters the ground will never be seen again. Well, that's what the priest of your village says over time and time again. Blabbering about how god left the family that lived in the castle many centuries ago when they invited night-crawling creatures inside. Ones that drink blood and care little for the human race.

Vampires.

You sighed under your breath for the fifth or sixth time this evening as the sermon read on the large dusted book in front of him. Your hands were beginning to ache from having them clasped together for so long. Why were you even praying? It's not like you believe any of this bullshit. Yes, granted, some of it might sound true, and you had doubts on multiple occasions whether this man in the sky was, in fact, real or not. But did you really want to stick around and find out? When you die and you go to hell, so be it. You weren't scared of where you ended up. You were more scared of wasting your life away. Not finding the adventure you so desperately craved. But your picture-perfect parents with their picture-perfect kids shall have no such dreams. No such idea of living other than to tend to the market stall and be married to yet another picture-perfect family.

You felt your mother's god-awful stare as she clearly heard you sigh yet again. You hated her the most. Always finding new and improved ways to punish you for "your sins." Like rolling your eyes or talking back to a man. Or worse, not showing any signs of being a good future housewife so when she's finally ready to sell you off—oh I'm sorry, give you away—to some rich Christian suitor to be your husband. You could be the perfect version of yourself for her.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

You hated that fucking word. A loud bell chime caught your attention, signalling that Sept was finished with his blabberings for the evening. So you stood up straight, your annoyingly over-layered dress before turning on your heels to leave.

"Oh wait, Dove. Come here, please." Your mother's overfaked and sugary sweet tone rattled in your ears. The use of the nickname Dove also annoyed you. Dove, meaning white pure bird that is trapped in a golden cage. Everyone had called you that since you were born, most people in the village not even knowing your real name, only know this nickname.

Why, you may ask?

Simple, your mother hated your name. You were named after your father's mother, who she hated. But it was tradition to name your firstborn after the father's mother, so here you were. Not only were you a disappointment to your mother, but you also bore a name that resembles hatred. Lucky you.

"This is Lucas Wheeler. He's Mary and Robert's Eldest son." Your mother's voice buttered up the introduction, leaning in with an absolutely disturbingly fake smile that everyone seemed to fall for. You turned your lip slightly, making a poor attempt to smile, which your mother did not approve of. "Luca, darling, this is my daughter."

His grin was wide and overexaggerated. His tunic was buttoned all the way up to his Adams apple, looking as if it was constricting his airflow. And his hair was perfectly brushed back. He was the definition of a good pure religious boy. A book nerd. You couldn't hide your disgust as he licked his lips, eyeing you like some piece of flesh. You knew what he was hiding. That filthy lust that men seemed to only be forgiven for. He has probably dreamed about shoving his cock in every woman that passes him and he was definitely only thinking about his needs while staring at you. Not marriage, not husband duty. No, the sole idea of finally getting his little dick wet was driving him crazy. And it made you want to chuck your guts up all over his clean shoes.

"You seem to have such a um, polite daughter here, Christine. She seems shy?" Lucas's mother, Mary spoke up trying to take a look at you but you kept your face pointed to the ground. You didn’t want to be there and you weren't about to fake a smile for a family you did not need to know. you wanted nothing more than to slip away and become invisible like you always did in these types of situations. But turning twenty has now made you in the public eye. Twenty and without a husband was rare. Normally women in your village were betrothed at sixteen and married at eighteen. But you have managed to wheezle your way out of it from your parents being too worried about your younger sisters. But you’ll be twenty-one soon and your mother, Christine was becoming impatient.

“She is a shy one. Sweet too. Micheal and I have been trying to find the perfect man for her, but her shyness seems to not be a lucky charm.” Your mother battered, throwing a sweet chuckle making Lucas’s parents laugh.

“Well, how about you both come over? Bring all your kids, for dinner. I’m sure my Luca would love to get to know her.” Mary pinched Lucas’s cheek making him push away slightly.

“Yes. I’d love to know more about your daughter. I’m sure we will be able to entertain one another while you get dinner ready.” his dark words made your stomach turn and flip. Now you were definitely going to be sick.

“It’s settled then. We will see you at sundown.” Your mother bid goodbye tugging you away by your arm out of the church, not letting you go for a second. Knowing you’d just run off the first chance you got.

-

Night came quicker than you would have liked and no matter how hard to tried to slip away your mother made sure that one of your sisters was always with you, ready to shout if you tried to bail. What was this some type of house imprisonment? You didn’t want to go, that was more than clear. But your mother couldn’t care less and your father well it was ‘whatever mother says goes’. so you were alone in the more honest terms. Your brothers were too young to know any different, your sister who is only two years younger than you was a cutout of your mother. And your little sister was daddy's little girl. She didn’t care about anything but her daddy.

What a perfect family you seem to have. Everyone fitted in somewhere but you. You were the experiment. The first batch of cookies to come out of the oven that no one touches cause they were too burned or not fully cooked.

“Come on we are going to be late.” Your mother's voice rang through the house, your sister's eyes not leaving you. She had muttered something before heading for the door. You had told her you just needed to put on some garments before meeting her downstairs. She was hesitant for a moment thinking this was a plan to escape but you had said that there was no time now and what would be the point. Sensing your defeat she left you alone. Finally.

You pull on some pants under your dress, hating having to wear such feminine clothing. It wasn’t that you were against wearing dresses or lace or even frills. It was more that sometimes you wanted pants. Was that so bad? You sighed putting all the clothes your sister had pulled out for you to try on, on the end of your bed. That was later you’s problem. You noticed your book laying on your pillow making you swear under your breath. Tucking it back under the sheets you wonder if your sister saw it. You hopped not, if she saw what you wrote or worse what you drew, she’d be telling the church to burn you at the stake.

You ran down the stairs quickly, not wanting to waste any more time, hoping that if you go over and get this night over with you can come back home and hide away in your room, wishing you were anywhere other than with this family.

-

This night seemed okay as far as talking about our lord and saviour over supper was. Mary was busy finishing up the final dish, letting Lucas and your parents laugh over a blessed bottle of wine. They had sent you and Lucas away to, get to know one another and Lucas had to perfect idea to show you his barn. A place where ‘he could be himself’. God, everything he says annoys you. Climbing the old rusty ladder, you stand in an empty hay loft. Your gut felt strange, like your body was warning you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Until you felt a hand grip your shoulder softly but tight enough to make you freeze.

His breath was so close, pooling on your neck. fingers were ghosting along your corset strings making tears build in your eyes. Even though he was a little boy in your mind. He was much bigger than you and he could easily take advantage of you if you didn’t play your cards right. So you had to act. “And what might we get up to here hmm…”

His chuckle sickened you. “Well, we have some time before mother calls. So I thought we get to know each other. Just like our families wanted.” he pulled away, making a grunting sound behind you. You turned slowly to see he was sitting on a blanket that had been laid out on some hay. Was this disgusting excuse of a man really thinking he could charm you into sleeping with him? God, his ego was bigger than you thought. You giggled, waltzing around the small room pretending to think but in truth, you were looking for an exit. You could go down the ladder but he’d probably grab you before getting that low. Maybe over the side onto the beams. He won't be able to get to you then. But then you’d be trapped until you eventually have to climb back over. And you know he’s the type to wait you out.

A window. Probably leads onto the roof. Not practical but if you recall you did see a bunch of hay bails just outside so if you jump you’d be able to land on them. And a broken ankle or wrist was better than….”Where is your mind wondering, baby? Do I scare you?”

Your head snaps back to him, giving him a small smile. “Oh, no…no…” You step closer, looking him deep in his eyes. “you don’t scare me…baby…” You stood right above his laying figure, his legs spread, enough for you to place a foot in between them. A grim smirk painted his unpleasant features. he went to sit up and you used this as your now or never, kicking him right in the balls without another thought. His groan was loud, knowing if it weren't for how far you were from the house. Everyone would have heard.

“You little bitch!” You ran for the window, crawling out as quickly as you could. The top of your dress got caught on a nail ripping the fabric. But you didn’t waste any time to cry about broken material, looking for the hay bails. It wasn’t as high of a jump as you thought, sliding down the straw, making some of it get caught in your dress. You could hear Lucas groaning in the distance as you started to run. Run fast and run far.

You needed to go home. Quickest route is through the forestry back towards the centre of the village before turning off from the church. Jump Mr Smith's fence and climb the vines into your room. Simple enough. But it's dark, a little too dark and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and rabid footsteps in the distance. The forest was thick. Trees tightly snug together. You almost tripped several times over branches and roots. Your heart was racing now, panting as your mind was becoming hazy. Need to get home. Need to get home.

“Ohhhh Little Dove, where are you.” Lucas’s deep sinister voice echoed through the dark forest. He was too close, you needed to stop. Hide. Maybe he’d go past you or head back. “Come out, baby. We were just having some fun.”

Quiet. Be silent. don’t move. Not a mucsle.

He called your name this time your real one making you gulp. His voice was maybe two or three trees away from where you stood. A twig snaps and you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. He was so close it was like you could still feel his breath. “Come on princess...” His hand wrapped the tree you were standing against and everything stopped. You closed your eyes thinking for a moment, trying to play thousands of scenarios of how you could get away. But nothing would work. He caught you. He danced the bend, slipping right into your view. Before you could run his hand gripped your throat making you freeze. “Don’t worry baby. I don’t bite.”

His words were short... sinister, like he had achieved his ultimate goal of capturing his prey. Your eyes widened going to spit back a comment but your words caught in your throat as you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Lucas. Tall, dark. Red eyes glowing through the night. Everything happened so quickly, the beast grasped Lucas the same way he had you, pulling him back with fright. “But I do…”

The creature's fangs pierced the disgusting man's neck making him scream out a noise that would make your blood curdle. His grip dropped from you, trying to scratch and fight off the larger figure. You took this moment to run, not even caring if the creature was going to kill him or not. All you knew was you needed to run. But you couldn’t run home anymore. There’s blood on your hands literally, Lucas’s blood splattered on you. If this wasn’t a perfect situation the priest was looking for to burn you at the stake you don’t know what is. “Hey, this way.”

You physically jump hearing a high-pitched voice cooe at you through the wind. It was a hooded figure, and normally you would of not gone with a stranger but in this case it seemed fair. You followed the person who seemed to be always a few steps ahead of you at all times no matter how hard you tried to catch up. It was only then, when you stopped focusing on the person to look around you noticed they were leading you to the castle grounds. Where myth reads vampires inhabit. That must have been what got Lucas.

A blood sucking vampire.

You stopped in your tracks not knowing to go back or forward. It’s not like vampires scared you per se. It was just. You were human and they are beasts. They would certainly eat you before you could plead your case. But one of them saved you right? That’s what it was doing? Not just finding two humans and deciding to have a late-night snack right….

“Hey over here.” The figure called for you again but when you looked up everything suddenly went black.

-

Your head was ringing. Heartbeat thumping slowly in your ears. Black splotches clouded your vision as you tried to look around. You were in a room. A Billiard room, to be exact. You have never seen a room of such a size. The bottom of your house most definitely fitting in this room alone. The leather under your fingers felt expensive, seeing the brown with bubbled texture. It was lavish, elegant—

"Beautiful, isn't it." A smooth voice swayed your attention, having caught you admiring the fine fabrics of the furniture. Your eyes locked with deep crimson ones. He was like nothing you've ever seen before. He was stunning, tall, and broad. You had to gulp at the sheer beauty of the man. But you knew he wasn't just a man. From his eyes, you knew he was a beast, a night crawler.

"Are you going to respond? Or are you more of a staring type?" Another voice scared you slightly. Looking to your left, you see another man, but he was sitting on the couch next to you. His black undercut fitted his features perfectly. He kind of sounded like the hooded figure that was helping you get away before...

"Definitely the quiet, staring type." A cheeky tone to your right. He was leaning on the pool table, his Cheshire cat grin painting his features smugly.

So there's three of them that live here?

"Now now, Woo, San. She's probably just scared." A shorter but beefier male suddenly stood next to the first one that spoke. He wasn't even looking at you, mostly paying attention to the two he called Woo and San. You were now sitting straight up, moving your gaze from each of them. As they were all in their own worlds arguing about why you might not be talking.

"You're bleeding, Tiny?" A voice growled behind you, startling you. You turned to see two very big men standing behind the couch. "When did you cut yourself?" He dragged his two fingers through your wound, making you hiss, pulling away from him.

He put one of his fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he were savouring the taste. Once he was done, he placed his other bloody finger in the male next to him, mouth. The other man groaned his eyes, glowing a harsher red as he stared you down. "You taste delicious, Sugar."

You went to stand, trying to get away from them, but your legs gave out, making you fall forward in front of the high-pitched boy who still sat on the other couch. "Be careful, Dollface. Don’t want ya gettin hurt."

"Okay, let's give her some space. Wooyoung, take San down to the kitchens and see if dinner is ready yet. Mingi and Yunho can go set the table." The one that stood at the door, the first man directed all the men with ease. They will followed without another word, heading for the door. "And for the love of Lillith, Jongho, can you please find your lover and Hongjoong. I think they were still cleaning up from..." He looked at you briefly. "Dealing with that disgusting human."

You knew he was talking about Lucas, and that meant this Lover boy or Hongjoong had been the one you saw ripping through Lucas's neck. They all left soon after, leaving you alone with the dominant man. You managed to sit back on the couch, but you wanted, needed to stand. So you tried your luck again, and your knees buckled, making you slip forward, but instead of making an impact with the ground, two large arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands gripped the creature's biceps, feeling his muscles taught and tense. "You do need to be careful, Darling."

Unlike Lucas's or any man, you've ever met really. These creatures don't seem to set off any of your alarms. You didn’t know if that was a bad thing or not, but you chose to brush it off, ‘cause in the end, you had never felt such kindness from anyone in the village. You were out-casted, unloved. You might as well be the witch they all wanted you to be. The kind smile that painted his features made your heart skip. He was indeed handsome. You finally spoke up saying who you were and the man looked at you with surprise before laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Seonghwa. It’s nice to meet you…”

Your name rolled off his tongue so beautifully. No one had ever used it to address you before. It was almost strange, foreign even. “Honestly you could call me anything. I was never called that name sadly.”

Seonghwa hummed in response, still holding tight on you. In truth, he knows much more about you than he leads on. When he and the others go on hunts he had found you a year ago. Ironically you were having your nineteenth birthday. On your own of course. He remembers the way you spoke to yourself, wishing yourself a happy birthday while you drew in your book. Your feet were in the cool water of the watering hole in the forestry just outside the village. You went there almost every second day. And so did he.

There was something about you that caught his eye. Caught all of the boy's eyes. You were special but none of them could put their finger on it. So of course when they found you running for your life from a disgusting man. They couldn’t stand by and let anything happen to their precious little human.

-

Dinner was quick as you just sat there and ate in silence. The others were loud though, making it seem almost normal. Like everything that was happening was something you all were used to already. Seonghwa had told you about all the boys and what all their names were. It took you a moment to put names to faces but once you got it. It was easy. Seonghwa never left your side. Making sure you were safe and comfortable. You appreciated it, understanding it must have been weird to have a human walking around. But you quickly learnt that all the maids and butlers were human. They got paid and some even lived on the estate.

Everything the village said about vampires and creatures in general was so wrong. And secretly you always wanted it to be wrong. So you were glad they weren't purely just bloodsucking beasts. But every now and then that face you saw popped into your head. You still didn’t know which one killed Lucas. And on top of it, this Hongjoong and Yeosang—Seonghwa had told you his name—were nowhere to be found.

“Okay well, sun will be up soon. Let’s get ready for bed.” Seonghwa again spoke up, dying down the chatter. It was like he took on a motherly role in the house. It was cute.

“Come Sugarcube. Yunho and I will show you to your room.” The one named Mingi flashed you a smile making you smile in response. Bidding Seonghwa goodnight or would It be morning now? Mental note to look out for a clock. The halls were lavish and carpeted, matching all the rooms you’ve seen thus far. Everything was perfect, vintage and beautiful. Yunho and Mingi had caught onto your mind wandering and had stopped for a moment, seeing how far you’d walk without them near you. You were very cute to them. Like a clueless bunny, with wide innocent eyes.

“Hey, Tiny. Your room is over here.” Yunho’s far voice snapped you out of your thoughts making you turn around to see both large men. Their arms crossed, with big grins. Your face was redder than a tomato in seconds making them both groan at how you waddle back quickly. Cute. Too cute. “This is where you’ll be saying. We’ll try and get some of your personal things tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Hongjoong had said something about grabbing some stuff while your family are out tomorrow.” Mingi rubbed the back of his neck as you slipped past both men to look into the huge spacious room. Only hours ago you were about to be married off to some pig and live on his farm until your death to now staying with not one but eight vampires.

And what was worse. You couldn’t go back. Not that you’d want to that is. But still, all your life you’ve known one thing and now… “You okay Tiny? Not the style you like? We have like ten other rooms if you want to-No it’s okay it’s just…” You cut Yunho off before taking a seat on the olive green and black silk sheets that lay on the large king bed.

“Did…Did Lucas die?” You don’t understand why you were asking about that pig but you needed to know. You needed to know would your parents found his mangled body and thought the beast that did that also killed you. Or would they think you did it? Yunho sat on his knees in front of you, placing his large hands on your thighs in a comforting manner. His smile was soft and his fingers grazing on your exposed skin was gentle.

“No. Yeosang left him alive. But he won't be wanting to live with the way he looks now.” You don’t know if Yunho’s words made you feel better or worse.

“Hongjoong helped him drag him back to that barn. His parents found him and they are looking for you at the moment.” Mingi revealed, knowing you’ll just keep asking questions so there was no reason to hide anything from you.

“Do my parents think I’m dead?” Deep down you knew they’d be happy either way. Dead, alive. Murderer or innocent. Your family would plead their sob story about the monster you were regardless of the truth.

“No…Lucas told them you ran. They think you were a part of it. Luring him out there for your vampire lover to have a meal.” Yunho felt disgusted with himself for repeating what Hongjoong had told them your parents said. But what else should they do?

“Vampire lover….hmm.” You smiled, starting to laugh. That’s what they probably thought you were sneaking off to at random hours of the day or night. Both of the men looked at one another with confusion, letting Mingi sit down next to you.

“Something funny with that Sugarcube?” Mingi’s voice was so deep, velvety. It made your core tingle and heart race. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, but still giving him a smile.

“My mother has wanted nothing but to pin some devilish thing on me and now she gets it. Something that said I did not serve the lord. Argh…” Tears ran down your cheeks “Fuck the lord. Why should I have to care what an old man did for humanity?! I just wanted to paint. Find adventure. Not marry and be a baby maker for some lowlife pig.” All your pent-up anger. All your disappointment. Every single thing you wished to say to your mother was pouring out, in front of two vampires you had only met hours ago now. It felt like a weight being pushed off your chest and you were no longer drowning. Mingi’s hand rubbed circles on your lower back making you fall into his embrace, letting him hold you while Yunho straightened up so he could hold you as well. They were beasts that could drain you in seconds yet they held you like they’ve known you for years. They listened as if they cared. They spoke as if you were the most important person in the world. why?

“There, there baby. It’s okay. You’re free now. You can do anything you want.” Yunho’s voice was quiet almost barely above a whisper. But still still heard him. You pulled away letting them still hold you but you could wipe your face. You can do anything? No one has ever said that to you.

“Well...I guess since this my first time of freedom…” You had both the vampire's attention now with your words. “I want a bath. One with lots of bubbles.” You’ve never had such a thing in your life only settling for quick showers or sharing bathing pools with your siblings. Not something lavish. Mingi laughed a deep hearty laugh. As if you couldn't get any more cute, there you went.

“I think that’s a perfect idea Sugar. We’ll get one of the maids to fix one up for you. And…” He placed his hands on either shoulder pushing you towards Yunho. Your face inches from him. Mingi inspected the wound of your shoulder blade noticing it was already closing but blood was still pooling out of it slowly. “Get this wound cleaned up…”

His tongue licked a strip upwards, following the wound. You hiccuped feeling a slight sting from him. Yunho however distracted you by giving you a kiss. Your eyes were wide and confused. He… he was kissing you. His soft lips moved slowly against yours. His tongue dipped around your bottom lip, testing the waters. Perfectly distracting you from Mingi cleaning your cut with his mouth. Your blood tasted unlike anything he had ever tasted before.

“You taste amazing… fuck.” Mingi mumbled against you while Yunho’s tongue slipped into your mouth as you groaned. Your mind was spinning like crazy, your hand finding place on Yunho biceps, digging your nails in his cold flesh.

“Y…Yuyu..” You tried to speak, finally making both men pull away, leaving you to gasp for air.

“Sorry tiny. Your lips were just too kissable not to.” Yunho chuckled licking his lips of the saliva you left behind on them. Your heart was pounding, feeling such excitement but also a tinge of fear…

“Tha… that was my first kiss..” You felt embarrassed to say so but you felt compelled to tell them. Which made both of them growl. Mingi’s fingers wrapped in your tattered dress hem while Yunho rubbed his hand over his face.

“Fuck. I was your first kiss baby?” Yunho felt so proud of himself.

“Damn Yunho the others aren't gonna be happy when they find out,” Mingi spoke as if you were no longer there.

“Wait why would the others care?” You suddenly felt small, seeing hunger in both their eyes. You had no idea what these men were planning, nor what they all wanted from you. It frightened you. But not as much as it excited you.

-

The bath was filled with bubbles, vanilla scent soap and soft music from a vinyl. You could have stayed in there for hours but when one of the maids came in to help you dress your wound you knew it was time to get out. The nice maid named Minnie had brought you some sleepwear, soft silk sleep shorts and a singlet. You have never felt such soft fabric before always getting hand-me-downs or second/third hand clothing.

“You look cute.” A gentle voice echoed from the door of your room. You hummed, blush burning your cheeks. Turning you see Seonghwa leaning against the door frame, bottom lip between his teeth as he eyed you, not even trying to hide that he was checking you out.

“Thanks…” You played with your fingers, standing there awkwardly as you watched Seonghwa close the door, slowly moving towards you. Like he was stalking you. No doubt Yunho and Mingi had run off bragging what they had done when you were busy bathing. God, if this was going to become a new normal you were going to develop a headache from your head spinning.

“I wanted to check on you.” For every step he took, you took one back, like a little dance until your back was firmly against the wall and his body almost flushed against you. “I heard Min and Yun had some fun with you.”

“I-..Yunho kissed me…Mingi he uh…” You felt so flustered, fanatically looking around the room feeling embarrassed about spilling what you had done even though you knew the two giants would have told everyone by now. He put his fingers on your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling on it slightly.

“I was kinda hoping to be the first to taste you. But then again, none of the boys tend to listen.” His eyes were hooded, looking at you with such hunger. He could feel your heart race against the pad of his thumb. He can hear your blood pumping quicker than normal. And your eyes never left his. His face inched closer, and then some. Seeing just how close he could get to you before you’d pull away but you didn’t, not even flinch. “Have you done anything like this before?”

You shook your head no slightly. “Have you ever touched yourself, Bunny?” his question made your face become redder. This was filthy, dirty, something you were supposed to be sworn away. And man did defying god feel intoxicating. You whispered no, making him close his eyes with a sigh for a moment. So innocent, so cute… So his to taint. “Do you want me to touch you, Bunny?”

“Yes…” You whisper… He tucked a piece of damp hair behind your ear making you shiver as his fingers grazed your skin. His cold tips slide along your cheek, down to your neck, before pushing gently on your man artery feeling your hot blood pump under his digits.

“I could drain you dry right now. Or fuck you full? Maybe both? Hmm?” His lips brushed against yours but not enough to seal his lips on yours. No, he wanted you to do it, he needed you to do the first move. So he knows you do in fact want it. And you gave him exactly what he wanted, leaning up to lock your lips to his. His one hand cupped your face to deepen the kiss while his other, snaked down to play with the hem of your shorts. Your legs spread instinctively, giving him access to do whatever he pleases. His wet tongue danced with you making you feel all kinds of filthy.

You had almost gotten a man killed, ran away from home. Most likely been shunned for life from your village and on top of that kissed two men that both happened to be undead creatures you only just met, while another drank from one of your open wounds. If was indeed sins, you might as well be sent down to Lillith herself on a golden platter.

“Come on Bunny, let’s get you comfortable.” He pulled away picking you up by your thighs before walking over to your bed and laying you down on the plump mattress. His lips trail down your cheeks, then your jaw until he stops at your neck for a moment rubbing his nose along your jugular. “God I can smell your blood through your soft skin.” he sighs, drawing his fangs out.

“H-Hwa p-please…” You bucked your hips against his hardening length, spreading your legs further so he could get closer if that was possible. He chuckled, darkly. Fang pressing just hard enough to pierce your skin a little bit so a few drops of blood would spill out. He licked your blood up, trying not to get any on the bed sheets. Your whimpers were music to his ears, and your taste was heavenly. Now he’s wondering how else you taste in other places. “Fuuckk.”

The feeling of his fangs and the was his fingers play with your short made your head cloudy. His hand slipped into your shorts cupping your core making you suddenly aware what was happening. His mouth finally left your neck, kissing down the exposed parts of your chest. He was worshiping every part of your body sending your skin on fire. “Such a pretty bunny. I can feel heat pooling out of you. Do you find my devilish charms that intoxicating bunny?”

You squirmed, needed more. His index finger slide along your slit making your mouth open into an ‘o’ shape. Your eyes shut tightly, finally feeling some kind of relief that you were searching for. The pleasure was new, and strange, making you feel like you were in a whole another world. Seonghwa kept whispering sweet nothings to you as he slowly pushes a finger inside your drenched cunt. It was steady at first until he found a rhythm, inching yet another finger inside making your brows knot together. His name fell from your lips on repeat like some kind of broken vinyl, he knew he could get you close to your high without much effort given you have never felt such a feeling before. And with only a few more moments you were clenching around his digits, coming underdone while he stared at you intensely, watching every one of your features move and contort in the pure ecstasy he was gifting you. “Did that feel good baby? I can make you feel even better, all you got to do is say yes.”

“Yes, please Seonghwa. Please. Make me feel like that again. I wanna feel good.” You don’t know why your mouth started spilling such filth but you couldn’t care, not when you were so close to feeling a pleasure you have only wondered about in those lewd novels Miss Smith had down the path. She had let you borrow one and it had changed your life forever. Seonghwa got to work, pulling your shirt off above your head and tugging down the rest until it slipped off your ankles in one swoop of his wrists. You were completely bare for him. He could see all the sun-kissed spots. All the scars, and beauty marks. He could see the bruises of a handprint on your collarbone and other smaller ones littering your legs and arms.

Pathetic human. Digusting pig.

Fuck, does he wish that Yeosang and Hongjoong hadn’t kept him alive now. But then again giving him a swift death would have been too merciful. No, Seonghwa would want to keep Lucas in a cell, locked away for weeks. No food, barely any water. Watching him starve. Watch him beg for death. But Seonghwa would never give it to him. Lucas would welter away in the dungeon, cold, scared, and alone. Just as you felt when you were being chased by him. Just as you felt when he had put his hands on you. Seonghwa would make him pay.

“H-Hwa…” You sat on your elbows having seen the vampire's mind wander. Was he okay? Was he second-guessing his actions? Seonghwa was quick to disregard any of your fears as he shed himself off his shirt, before sliding off the bed to pull his pants down. They dropped to the floor with an audible ‘oof’. You didn't mean for your eyes to immediately gaze down at his fully grown erection but its angry red tip had caught your attention. Seonghwa didn’t mind one bit though, he admired your body in the meantime, letting you get a good look at him while he did the same to you. “That can’t fit inside me….”

Seonghwa laughed, physically laughed at your abrupt statement. “Oh don’t worry. It will.”  he yanked one of your legs making you gasp. He stood tall at the end of your bed, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, gathering up some of your cum to use as lubricant. The whole time his eyes never left yours. He wanted to see the pleasure pooling in your eyes when he entered you inch by inch. And as you bit your bottom lip, you tried your damned hardest to keep your gaze open. “That’s it, baby. Breath…”

The stretch was painful, to say the least. Even though Seonghwa had used his fingers on you, it still wasn’t enough to fully prep you for his girth. He rubbed circles in your hips, trying to settle the pain as much as he could, noticing your fingers had entangled in the silk sheets, with your knuckles turning lightly white.

“Ffuckk, hngmm Seong.” you mumbled, finally feeling him enter you fully, his groin flush against you. He stayed still for a moment, letting you catch your breath but man was it hard. The way you clamped around him, sucked him in for more. It made him want nothing more than to pound the living shit out of you. But patience. He needed patience. And luckily out of all the boys, he owned the most patience.

“Can I move Darling?” His words were a stutter, laying with groans and sighs. You nodded your head before responding with a quick and quiet ‘please’ letting him draw his cock until only the tip was inside you then smashing back in, knocking the wind out of you. You could no longer hold yourself up, falling onto your back. Seonghwa watched as your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts and how your thighs were clamped snugly around him. You felt amazing, looked eternal. And you were finally his.

He dreamed about what your cunt might feel like wrapped around his cock. Or how might your blood taste when you are in the middle of being fucked. Firty thoughts had always seemed to riddle his mind whenever he saw you and now he could finally get the answers. But one thing is for sure. He has no idea how he is possibly going to share you with the others. When he is going to be craving you permanently.

-♥︎

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez reaction #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez mingi #ateez poly #ateez seonghwa #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x reader smut #ateez fic #atz reactions #atz smut #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #ateez vampire au #vampire!ateez #Ja3hunny

[vioartemis]

Friends?

(Wednesday Addams x fem! reader)

Summary: One day, in the library, you catch Wednesday's attention... Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 Warnings: none a/n: expect a part 2, not proof read, it was in my drafts for like 3months now so I can't guaranty it's not awful (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Wednesday pushed the library’s door and directly walked to the aisle she knew had the books she needed. After 10 minutes spent in said aisle, she let out a frustrated sigh; she couldn’t find the books, which meant someone either borrowed them already -which was unlikely, or the librarian forgot to put them back on the shelves.

Either way, it annoyed her.

Now she had to talk to the librarian to ask if the books were here, and it would probably take longer than necessary.

When she arrived at the desk with a blank expression, the woman was writing something on her computer, not sparing Wednesday a glance.

“I would like to borrow some books.” She said through gritted teeth, causing the librarian to look up

“What books?”

Wednesday put a piece of paper with the references of the books on the desk as an answer.

“Botanical curses & poisons, and The supernatural” the woman read out loud “You’re lucky, they’ve just got returned”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow. Even if she did think it could’ve happened, she was still surprised. She didn’t actually think anyone else would ever borrow these books. It wasn’t common seeing someone read that kind of books -or read at all. And usually Nevermore students only read the books in the school’s library.

She didn’t hear the door while she was in the aisle, which meant the person was still there. Maybe she had found a classmate with the same interests as her? Which didn’t mean she would try to befriend them, but it was always good to know.

“If you’re looking for the girl, she’s in the aisles over there” the librarian said, as she had already put the books on the desk

Wednesday looked at her, a frown on her face, but nodded once and grabbed the books.

She then walked to the aisles the woman talked about. And here you were, looking at the books on the shelves, reading the back of one while holding another in your arms; Royal art of poison. Wednesday had read that book before, she recognize it was a good one.

Her attention then shifted on your face, even if she could only see your profile. She was sure she never saw you at Nevermore. She usually had a good memory for that kind of things, so maybe you didn’t have classes in common.

After looking you up and down, she walked out of the building to go back to Nevermore.

On the way there, she couldn’t help but think if she had seen you in the hallways, she would’ve never thought you would read this type of books.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

The following week, Wednesday tried to find you in the school. Unconsciously at first, as she didn’t really care, but then it became more and more important to her as she couldn’t seem to see you. That frustrated her. You had to be somewhere.

And yet she couldn’t find you.

She always got what she wanted, it was unusual for her to ‘fail’. So naturally, she decided to go back to the library.

When she did, she wandered in the aisles, looking for you. Unsuccessfully. It was like you didn’t even exist.

She felt like she was losing her mind, and it wasn’t as fun as she anticipated.

Just as she was about to go back in the aisle she saw you in for the first time, she saw Thing out of the corner of her eye. He was pointing a nearby aisle, signaling you were in there.

You were indeed in the aisle, looking at the books on the shelf in front of you. Venomous was already in your hands. A book about earth’s deadliest creatures… Wednesday thought.

Then your hand rose up to pick up another book; The Black Dahlia.

Now Wednesday was really interested by you. She never met anyone who knew about her favorite unsolved murder case, let alone read about it.

She took some step closer to you and grabbed a book on the shelf.

“You might as well read this one, if you’re interested in the Black Dahlia case.” she said as she handed you the book

You gave her a surprised look, not expecting anyone to recommend you any books in that section, let alone about this case.

“Oh, thanks” you grabbed the book “Do you know much about this case?”

“Of course, for it is my favorite unsolved murder. How come you know about it?”

“I saw a documentary on tv yesterday. Just thought I’d read some more about it. It seems to be a very interesting case” you explained

“Indeed.” A little pause “So what are you? Werewolf? Siren? Psychic?”

You frowned, confused as to why she would ask that.

“Are you from Nevermore?” you asked

“Are you not?”

You shook your head.

“I’m at Jericho High, sadly”

“‘Sadly’?”

You nodded.

“There’s a bunch of idiots there. Like- a whole bunch. I don’t really fit in. They’re all about social medias, hating on outcasts for no reason”

Wednesday looked at you, waiting for you to continue and explain yourself.

“I prefer books, even if I have to admit that scrolling on Pinterest while listening to music can be addicting. As for outcasts… I’ve always been interested in them, especially vampires. But I mean- every ‘class’ of outcasts I read about was interesting”

The raven took a moment to think about what you just said.

“It’s unusual to see a normie who doesn’t hate outcasts. Are you sure you’re a normie?”

“Pretty sure, yeah”

She looked you up and down after that, analyzing you. You seemed to be honest, she didn’t sense any hostility coming from you.

The following days, Wednesday caught herself thinking about your conversation, and by extension, about you. As much as it pained her to admit, something in you attracted her. Or at least made her ant to know more about you, which led her to the library once again.

This time, you were sitting at a table, reading another book about poisonous plants, some other books stacked next to you.

“Are you planning to murder someone?” she asked as she sat on the chair facing you

“Holy shit…! Do you make a habit out of scaring people?” you asked, half joking, a hand on your chest after her voice made you jump

“It’s more of a hobby. Who is going to be your victim?”

“No one!” you chuckled, once your heartbeat calmed down a bit “I’m just trying to find information about Aconitum, like where it grows, etc”

“Why?”

“I want to experiment with it myself, simple curiosity” you shrug

So you did want to poison someone. Interesting. She thought.

“No, no, I can guess what you’re thinking. I’m not trying to kill anyone. But you never know when that kind of information can be useful”

“Indeed.” she nodded, even if she was a bit disappointed

“And if I did want to kill someone, I would probably use something else like Nightshade or the Nerium Oleander -but I’d have to find some first” you added “Anyways, I need to go, I have class… See you later, maybe?”

Wednesday looked at you as you packed your things and left the library, not without putting the books back on their shelves. You definitely had a little something that made her look forward to the next time she would be in your company. That thought surprised her; she usually wasn’t one to seek others’ company.

She stayed sat at the table for a few minutes, lost in thoughts, before standing up almost abruptly. She walked to the door and was about to leave, when the librarian called her.

“Hey, wait a sec!”

Wednesday turned to face the woman who got out from behind her desk. She handed something.

“What is that?”

“A micro-cassette recorder. It must have fallen from your friend’s bag when she left. I thought you could give it back to her”

“She’s not my friend.” Wednesday said blankly but took the object anyways

The librarian rolled her eyes at the smaller girl and went back to her desk while Wednesday left the library, putting your recorder in her backpack.

“What’s that?”

Wednesday looked up from her typewriter; Enid was holding the recorder.

“A micro-cassette recorder.” she simply said “Put it back where it was, Enid.”

“Oooh what are you doing with it? Recording podcasts? I thought your thing was novels” the blonde continued, not listening

“‘My thing’ is novels.”

“Then what’s on this recorder?”

Before the raven could say anything else, the werewolf pressed the play button.

“Okay… Is it recording? Ah, yes, the numbers are moving. Okay okay… um… Where do I even start? God I must look so dumb talking to that thing… Anyways. Uh… Day 1 of research on outcasts, I guess? Is that how they do in movies?”

The recorder stopped playing, for Wednesday had pressed the button again, taking it from Enid’s hands.

“Whose voice is that? It’s not yours”

“Of course not. It’s…” she paused, looking for the right words “… it belongs to someone I met at the library.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?? I want to know everything!”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Why do you have her recorder then?”

“She forgot it. I just keep it until I can give it back.”

“Hmhm, sure”

Enid said with a big smile, before going back to her activities: laying on her bed and scroll on Instagram, probably. The other girl watched her do so, then went back to her writing, putting the recorder on her desk.

After half an hour of peaceful writing, she heard Enid tell her she was going in Yoko’s dorm for whatever gossip session they had every week. From the corner of her eye, Wednesday saw the recorder move closer to her.

Thing was pushing it in her direction.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you want to hear more?” Thing signed

“I wouldn’t like it if anyone read my novel without asking me first.”

“But you’re curious”

“… Of course.”

“Listen to it then! Maybe you’ll be able to help her. She seems nice, she won’t get upset” Thing signed quickly, almost as curious as Wednesday to hear your research

“Fine. Give it to me.”

Thing pushed the recorder further so she could grab it. She did, and pressed play again, but not after a glance at Thing.

“A word to Enid and I’ll snap all your fingers.”

“Hmhm… so I borrowed this book in Jericho’s library about outcasts -I’m surprised they have books about that considering the way they see them. I think it was a pretty interesting book!”

Wednesday listened to what you had to say on that book, then fast-forwarded to a bit later on the record.

“… lost count of the days at this point. It’s crazy how I can’t find anything more than what I already read! It’s like normies’ knowledge about outcast is only the basics -not to say the clichés. God, I wish I was at Nevermore. I’m sure they have sooo much more books there. Not only about outcasts, but about poisonous plants as well!”

The raven was about to stop listening when you started speaking again.

“Oh, yesterday, I met a girl at the library! She advised me to read a certain book about The Black Dahlia case. She said she was from Nevermore. Well, she didn’t deny it. I wonder what’s her gift… But it’s a weird question to ask, isn’t it? I bet she knows lots of outcasts if she studies there…  of course she does, what I am even saying?”

The record stopped by itself after that.

Wednesday had the tiniest smile on her face. You were smart, that she had noticed when you first talked, yet hearing you speak freely like that made you sound so clumsy. You were passionate, that was for sure.

“Thing, do you think you can find her quickly?”

A knock on your bedroom window caught your attention. Your stopped what you were doing and opened it. To your surprise, a hand -without a body- ran (?) in your room.

You looked at it, mouth agape, certainly not expecting that.

“Hi…?” you said hesitantly

The hand stopped on your desk and starting signing.

“I uh… don’t speak sign language… sorry”

The hand paused, as if it was sighing.

“You can… hear me?” you asked, surprised

It gave you a thumbs up as an answer, before showing its palm to you. A message was written on it with a marker: ‘You forgot your recorder at the library. Call me.’ Followed by a phone number.

 “Thank you”

You said while typing the number on your phone, before calling it.

On the other side, Wednesday was waiting in front of Enid’s computer. She remembered how to use it from last time Enid told her. When she saw you were calling, she pressed the spacebar to pick up.

She certainly didn’t expect to see you with Thing on your shoulder.

“Hi!” you said with a smile “So you found my recorder? I was afraid someone random found it…” you paused “Your room is… more colorful that I would’ve imagined”

“It’s my roommate’s side.” Wednesday frowned, a bit offended you could think she would decorate her room this way

“Oh. What does your side looks like then?”

She turned Enid’s computer to show you -quite proudly.

“Ohh it’s nice! Wait- you have a typewriter?? That’s so cool! Like the overall decoration”

Thing typed lightly on your shoulder.

“Oh, yes, sorry. He’d like me to drive him back to Nevermore. Which I can understand, it’s a bit far away… So, we were wondering if you could open a window or something? I don’t think your principal would appreciate if someone from outside came without permission”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. Let’s say it’s for keeping my recorder safe, that way we’re even” you smiled

Wednesday nodded, and said she would open their window, just before your parents called you from downstairs, asking who you were talking to. While you were answering them, Thing gave the raven a thumbs up.

Of course it was your plan all along, bringing her here… she thought, a slight smile forming on her lips again. Well played.

After going out by your bedroom window, took your bike, put Thing in the little basket attached to the handlebar, and started making your way to Nevermore. On the way there, you talked with Thing; he used your phone to type and made it read the text out loud so you could hear.

When you arrived at Nevermore’s gate, you left your bike against the low wall near the entrance. To your surprise, the gate wasn’t closed -which was a good thing. You got on the school’s territory, walking silently to the school itself.

You had only ever seen it in pictures, and you had to admit, it was way cooler to see it for real.

Thing tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to reality, and pointing at a big round window with a metallic spider web on it. It was probably the dorm you had to reach.

“You could’ve told me it was on the fourth floor…”

You examined the architecture of the school, before cracking your knuckles and starting to climb.

“If I fall… I hope I won’t break too many bones”

After what seemed like an eternity, and three times almost falling, you finally reached the balcony. You took a moment to lay there, catching your breath, Thing patting your arm reassuringly.

He then disappeared inside and came back with the raven right as you were standing back up.

“Thing said you were hurt.” Wednesday said, her eyes shifting from your face to your hands, bruised by the climbing

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ve done rock-climbing with my parents before, I’m used to it”

“… If you say so.” she paused, and handed you your recorder

“I almost forgot about it” you chuckled, taking it from her hands and putting it in a pocket of your vest “Thank you”

Wednesday nodded. You did the same, as a goodbye, and were ready to go back home, when she spoke again.

“If you want more books about outcasts or something else…” she stepped forward and gave you a piece of paper “… let me know.”

You took the paper and opened it. Another phone number. You had guessed the previous one wasn’t hers, and according to what Thing told you, she never used the phone some guy gifted her.

You smiled and put the paper in your pocket.

“Thank you”

You were about to leave, but you remembered something.

“You never told me your name”

“Neither did you.”

“I’m Y/n. Y/n L/n”

“Wednesday. Wednesday Addams.”

“It was nice seeing you, Wednesday” you smiled “It’s probably going to sound weird… But I enjoy your presence, I feel understood. I hope we’ll be good friends. Anyways, good night!”

With that, you climbed down the wall, disappearing from her field of view.

Wednesday looked at the sky; it was dark, lots of clouds, but the moon was still visible behind them. It even illuminated the raven’s face.

Thing tapped in her direction.

“I only tolerate her presence. Don’t imagine things.”

More tapping, and what looked like he was rolling his eyes.

“One more word and you’re locked in the drawer until I decide otherwise.”

Thing saw it as the sign to go back inside, not wanting to risk it.

When she was alone on the balcony, Wednesday’s eyes shifted to your small form while you were getting on your way home.

Her little smile was back, that smile which was so unusual to see on her face, that only the people she really cared about ever saw.

Friends, hm? I suppose that’s what we are.

[Next part]

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday #wednesday x fem reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday netflix

[golbrocklovely]

careful what you wish for // sam and colby (pt. 4)

A/N: first off, terribly sorry this came out so late. i've had a hectic last couple days, and didn't get to finish this fic up until tonight. and sadly, this the last thing i'm posting for my 13 nights of halloween. it's crazy to think that this is finally over. to anyone curious i will be getting back to answering asks by tomorrow. i'll also be writing up my review of hell week, and any other random things i had planned to write about/review before my 13 nights. also, i know so many of you have been waiting eagerly for this next installment, so sorry for the long awaited update. but hopefully it's made better by this fic. happy belated halloween, and happy haunting !

prompt: sam and colby have left you high and dry, so now you've resorted to possibly hooking up with a coworker at an event. but sam and colby will be having NONE of that. || vampire!sam and demon!colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SO MUCH SMUT, manipulation via powers (surprise! it's not you this time), fucking in a public, fucking with a crowd watching, the crowd is also all of your coworkers, dumb business shit that i know nothing about bc i went to school for theater and work in retail lol, fourth wall break (spooky), cursing, degrading language, being bit but no blood drawn), mentions of: princess, baby girl, baby, slut, whore, called a fleshlight once, unprotected sex (but no fear of getting pregnant bc they're supernatural), gets a bit dark and possessive towards the end, heavy use of MINE and OURs, snc own you so…. if you don't like that don't read,

word count: 7077

~~~~~~~~~

It was Halloween night, and while you usually looked forward to Halloween, this night was a bit different. The company you worked at was having their annual 'Final Fiscal Quarter Party'. The higher ups agreed that it would be easier to throw it during October, rather than in December. Individual offices could throw their own then, but the main, big event was happening tonight.

Your company rented out a huge hotel ballroom. There was catering, a local DJ playing some family friendly tunes, and a stage where awards were going to be given out. You had been to a couple of these events over the years, but they were always very... boring. You would much rather be at home, snuggled up, watching a scary movie.

Or maybe getting fucked by your... boyfriends? It was hard to describe the relationship you had with Sam and Colby. They used you, but you used them. It was a very symbiotic relationship in that way. But currently, you weren't really too keen on them.

You considered hitting up your old friend, Jess. She was the one, after all, that magically brought Sam and Colby into your life. You hadn't talked to her in a long time. It could be because she still blamed you for the book permanently shutting and ruining her dating life forever.

She could bitch all she wanted, but she wasn't the one being stalked and fucked by a demon and a vampire.

You had grown a bit tired of Sam and Colby, their antics, and their overall ability to flip your world upside down. The sex was great, obviously. But at what cost?

Not to mention, they hadn't spoken to you, or showed up, in months. You were going through a bit of a dry spell, and hated the fact that they hadn't answered your calls. So, it did cross your mind to get rid of them. Permanently.

But that was an issue for another time. Right now, all you had to focus on was getting just drunk enough to enjoy this stuffy party, but not too drunk that you get messy.

And that came a bit easy for you. Across the bar, a handsome man smiled at you, giving you a nod as you accepted his drink. You could see his paper nametag said Brian, and you hadn't recognized him from your own office - so he was a safe bet. God knows you weren't the only one trying to hook up with someone tonight. Plenty of colleagues from different divisions were going to be getting crazy tonight. It was an inside joke amongst the company that this night was usually a fuckfest.

You gazed over at Brian, admiring his silky quaffed hair and great suit. He had a lovely smile; one he shot your way over the glass of whiskey he had in his hand.

A man like Brian seemed... dependable. A good choice for a significant other. Boring, basic, Brian. Maybe that's exactly what you needed. Something steady and settled. Not... supernatural.

Yeah, but could you ever fuck a man like Brian? A man like him could never fulfill your needs. You could hear Colby's voice in the back of your head.

You rolled your eyes, taking a long sip from your wine glass. No. Brian might seem a bit basic on the surface, but who knows? Deep down he could be a sex god. Maybe he was packing some serious heat, and just knew all the right ways to eat a woman out. Yeah, that's what's you would be focusing on. Not the imagine that Sam and Colby would surely try to paint in your head.

You were brought out of your thoughts as the lights dimmed up and down, signaling everyone to get to their seats, as the speeches and award ceremony was going to start soon. You shot a look at Brian one more time and found your seat quickly.

The head of the company sauntered up on stage as applause erupted throughout the room. He nodded his head, shooting a couple people smiles and finger guns. Eventually as the room quieted down, he stepped up to the podium, beginning his speech.

"Good evening, everyone. I'm so happy you all could make it here tonight. Happy Halloween by the way. Isn't this much better than a Christmas party?" He let out a solid laugh, swatting at the crowd jokingly. "But as I was saying, tonight we are all here to celebrate. This company might be big, but it's the little guys - the individuals - that deserve the praise the most. Sure, I'm the head and face of this place, but you guys are what make it possible."

Another round of claps came from the room. You glanced around and noticed that the chair next to you was empty. There was a name tag on the plate, designating this spot for a "Colson Brock".... whoever that was.

"Now before the awards begin, I would like to introduce you all to someone remarkable. This man has helped shape this company in many ways. And, he's incredibly sexy. So let's all give a round of applause for Samson Golbach." The CEO grinned brightly, gesturing to the side of the stage.

You raised an eyebrow, Sexy? That's a strange word to use at a business party. Not to mention, The CEO was married to a woman so... this was all a bit confusing. You awkwardly clapped as the light shined on a man with light blonde hair. He was in an all-black suit, his hair gelled in a sleek look. He waved at the crowd, smirking mischievously. He smiled once he got to the podium, his fangs glistening in the light.

Was that... Sam?

You gasped in your seat, staring up with wide eyes at the stage. It looked like him, but you had never seen him in a suit. Plus he wasn't exuding the same energy he usually would so, maybe this wasn't him. Maybe this was his doppelganger, or someone that looked extremely like him. You sat back in your chair, narrowing your eyes up at the man.

"Thank you all for having me here today. I know many of you don't know who I am, but that's by design. I purposefully like to stay in the shadows, remain almost anonymous. It's a system I built to keep this company running at breakneck speed, and so far... this has been our most successful year to date!" Samson cheered.

You could feel the room clap again, happy with Sam... Samson's words. You took a deep breath, your anger rising. This can't be Sam. Sure, it looked like him and even sounded like him. But Sam and Colby had never taken this... thing, with you outside of your own house. There was no way they would do this to you in front of all of your coworkers and colleagues.

"It's nice to finally be appreciated and received so well. I'm sure you've all had some crazy days and night working here. I usually work all hours of the night and barely get to see the sun. You would think I was some sort of a vampire or something." Samson chuckled, some members of the crowd following suit. He turned, catching your eye, and gave you a wink.

Did he just...

The chair next to you pulled back, a man sat down hastily. He cleared his throat, catching his breath. He unbuttoned his dark blue suit jacket, the silver pinstripes reflecting in the light. Your eyes traveled up the man's form, taking him in until finally stopping on his face. Everything about him was familiar, but his hair was pushed back, exposing his forehead. He took his glasses off, cleaning the lenses and sliding them back on.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” You growled.

The man, Colby, turned to look at you suddenly. “I'm... sorry?”

You crossed your arms tightly, sitting back in your chair. “I can't believe that you and Sam would do this.”

He gave a weary smile. “I'm so sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Right, Colby.” You huffed.

“Colby? That's a silly name,” he chuckled. “My name is Colson.”

“Of course it is.” You turned to him sharply, “You know you two have a lot of audacity to do this.”

He shook his head awkwardly. “Again, I'm not sure what you're talking about, Miss.”

“You guys haven't spoken to me in months. I've called out to yall and got nothing back. And now you show up and want to play dress up?!” You whispered harshly. “You guys are sick.”

“I'm not entirely sure what to say. I'm not who you think I am,” he dissented. “I'm Colson Brock, not Colby, and I've never met that man on stage before in my life. But I am about to get an award from him so... if you could just stop talking to me, that would be for the best.”

You scoffed. “I swear to God, Colby-!”

You were cut off as Sam’s voice grew louder, “This award is given out to individuals that show inspiring traits and work countlessly day in and day out for us. The award for Best Dedication, Integrity, Creativity, and Knowledge goes to... Colson Brock!”

You scowled as Colby stood up, patting down his suit softly. He walked towards the stage, shooting you a smug look over his shoulder. He stepped on stage, shaking Sam's hand, and a photo was taken of the two of them holding the award.

You grabbed your purse, sneaking off to the bathroom quickly. You stumbled in, rushing to the sink and leaning against it. The bathroom was empty, just you alone. You breathed deeply, shaking your head.

That had to be Sam and Colby. There's no way that wasn't them.

But a part of you imagined, for just a moment, that maybe... it wasn't them. How could they have manipulated everyone into thinking they were real workers at this company? The CEO introduced Sam, or Samson. Colby's name, or Colson's name, was on the nametag and award.

You felt yourself flush at the thought. Oh my God, if that isn't Colby, that man out there thinks I'm absolutely insane. How the fuck am I supposed to go back to my table, sit there and eat an under seasoned chicken parm, and pretend I didn't just berate a man?

You groaned, bending down, and resting your head against the sink counter. Even when Sam and Colby weren't around, they still fucked with you.

You heard the bathroom door squeak open, your body jolting up. You didn't need another person thinking you were losing it.

Heavy footsteps crept into the bathroom, a man. A deep voice sighed, snickering lightly. You glanced up through the mirror, your eyes widening. Colby swayed in, leaning against the wall. His suit jacket was gone, now just in his button up and slacks. He rolled up his sleeves, running a hand through his hair.

“Surprise, Princess. Did ya miss us?” He teased.   

You glared, “What the fuck, Colby?”

“What?” He gestured outside the bathroom, “A bit too dramatic?”

“This is my livelihood! How dare you and Sam come and fuck this up for me!” You exclaimed, anger coursing through your veins.

“Relax, baby. We would never do anything too bad. No need to worry. Everyone will forget any of this happened. Honestly.” He put his hands up defensively. “This was all meant to be a bit of fun. We just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, you succeeded. Congratulations.” You retorted, crossing your arms.

“You should be congratulating me on my award. I have the best dedication, integrity, creativity, and knowledge.... D-I-C-K. Dick? Best dick, get it?” He bit his lip cockily, “Came up with it myself.”

“You're a fucking genius,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes. “God, I knew I should have talked to Jess sooner.”

“Jess... why does that name sound familiar?” He questioned, feigning curiosity.

“She's the one that gave me the book that made the two of you.” You explained bitterly.

“Oh, she is? I'm gonna have write her a thank you card,” he winked. “But why exactly do you need to talk to her?”

“You two... I want you gone.” You admitted.

His face dropped, “What?”

You stepped up to Colby, getting in his face. “Aren't you tired of fucking around with me? Coming and going as you please? Why am I not allowed a normal life with a normal guy?!”

The lights flickered in the bathroom, Colby's eyes turning black for a split second, his horns visible. You shuttered, pressing yourself against the counter. The lights stopped flickering, and Colby was back to normal.

He cleared his throat, loosening his tie a bit. “Because... you're ours. You belong to us.”

“Fuck you.” You spat.

“You have... multiple times,” Colby pointed out in a snarky tone. “Even last year around this time, too.”

“Last Halloween?” You thought back, and a bunch of images started popping into your mind. Sam snapped Colby's neck but was also somehow terrorizing trick-or-treaters. Colby took control of your body but was also somehow dead while you and Sam fucked in your kitchen. It was all very confusing and didn't make quite sense.

“Wait, how the hell did you both fuck me and simultaneously not?” You puzzled, aggravated.

“I guess it just depends on what you picked.” Colby smirked, “Right, reader?”

“What are you talking about?” You replied.

“Don't worry about it.” He leaned against the counter next to you, “Back to what you were saying though. So, you want a normal guy so you can live a normal life... why? Isn't it more exciting to get fucked by a demon and a vampire?”

“Yeah, but there's more to life than sex.” You argued.

He feigned shock, “Take that back.”

You jeered, “You're extra fucking annoying, you know that?”

“And you clearly need the brattiness fucked out of you. But for some reason you don't want me or Sam to do it. Why? Did you have someone else in mind?” He took a couple steps, facing you again, “Like, say... Brian.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “How do you-“

He interjected. “I'm a demon. I know a lot of things. Not to mention I saw him and you eye-fucking each other by the bar. You're lucky I saw it and not Sam. Because Brian would be drained dry by now. Still probably will be.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, fine. I was eye-fucking Brian. And why am I not allowed to? Yall have been gone for months.”

“But you've been putting that toy of yours to such good use,” Colby taunted.

“You're an asshole.” You shot back.

“Thank you. I appreciate the love,” he smiled genuinely. “But I gotta ask, do you really think a man named 'Brian' can make you come like we can? Be honest with yourself on that.”

“That's not the only reason I want him,” you responded sassily. “Plus, he could be really good at sex.”

“Okay then. Let's find out.” Colby stomped over to the door, yelling out, "Brian! Get in here!"

You furrowed your brow, confused as to what Colby had up his sleeve. What the hell was he bringing Brian in here for?

Brian stepped in, glancing between the two of you. He had a dazed look on his face, clearly entranced.

“Colby, don-“ You started.

He cut you off again, “Look, princess. You wanted to know if he's a good fuck. So, I'm giving you the chance to find out. See what a normal fucking will bring to your life.”

“You can't force him to fuck me!” You fumed.

“I mean, I definitely could, but I'm not going to.” He turned to Brian, patting his shoulder, “Brian, my guy, do you want to fuck Y/N?”

Brian nodded. “Yes.”

“That's why you were buying her drinks tonight, right?” Colby asked.

“Yeah.” Brian’s voice was dull, almost like there were no thoughts behind his eyes.

“Such an honest man,” Colby commented. “Do you find her attractive?”

“Of course.” Brian agreed.

“Would you sleep with her if she said yes?” He continued.

Brian blinked, “Yes.”

Colby looked at you, “There we go. Happy?”

“I'm not fucking him in here, or in front of you.” You retorted, leaning back against the counter.

“Don't you want to prove me wrong? Don't you want to wipe the smug look off my face when he makes you come with his tongue? Or his totally, not average sized, dick?” Colby stepped up to you, his voice low, “The moment I walked in here, you got wet.”

A rush of blood came to your cheeks, your breath hitching.

“No amount of blushing can hide that deep down, you're a slut that wants to be fucked - pretty much - anywhere. And you're only giving me lip because we left you cold and alone for a couple months. I'm sorry about that. I truly wished I listened to your pleads...” he leaned in, kissing your cheek. “And cries...” he moved to the other cheek, giving it a quick kiss. “And screams,” he kissed your forehead gently. “Begging me to come fuck you. But absence makes the heart grow fonder. And this, right here, is my apology to you.”

You stood still, unsure what to do. Part of you did want to fuck Brian, just because you did find him hot. But with Colby standing next to him... it was no contest.

“Here. I'll sweeten the deal,” Colby offered. “If he makes you come, we'll leave. Forever.”

You froze, “Really?”

“No, probably not. The whole magical book kinda forbids that. But we will leave here, and you and Brian can go on your merry way and you two can go have beautifully... vanilla, sex.” He smiled dryly.

“Lucky for Brian, I'm already wet.” You quipped, glaring.

“Perfect. Brian, give the lady what she wants.” He gasped, “Ooh, can I choose what he does? Pleaseeeee?”

You blinked, giving the slightest nod.

“You are so generous.” Colby spun to him, “Brian, do you want to eat her out?”

“I would... but I don't do that.” Brian spoke monotone.

Colby’s face dropped, almost mimicking yours. “You don't give head? Sloppy toppy? None of that?”

“No.” Brian replied.

“This is the man you want, huh? Absolute loser,” Colby pointed at him, rolling his eyes. “Well, Brian, now you do. So, go crazy.”

Brian turned to you, a lustful look overcoming him. He dropped to his knees, crawling towards you. Your heart raced, watching his every move. His hands wrapped around your ankle, slowly kissing up your leg gently. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, your head falling back a bit.

Colby leaned against the wall, studying you. His face was blank, almost uninterested. You glared at him, trying to ignore his presence. He smiled, giving a little wave.

Brian nibbled on your inner thigh, his fingers stroking up and down the center of your underwear. He brushed against your clit, your knees almost buckling.

“You're wet, Y/N.” Brian hummed in awe.

“Yeah, that's what happens when you turn a woman on.” He leaned in, whispering to you, “Is he new around here or...?”

“Shut up, Colby!” You groaned. “Keep going Brian, please. I need you.”

“Don't take it too personally, Brian. She says that to everyone. Especially me.” Colby grinned.

“Drop dead.” You hissed.

He remarked, “I'm not really alive so...”

Brian pulled down your underwear, letting them fall down your legs and to the floor. The cool air hit your hot sex, making your body tense up. Brian leaned in, his mouth connecting with your clit.

You closed your eyes tightly, allowing the sensation of his tongue to arouse you more. It was a slow build, that was for sure. Nothing like Sam and Colby and the way they did things. But it was still nice.

But maybe not what you needed.

You placed your hand on the back of Brian's head, pushing him more into your heat. He grunted, the vibrations feeling fantastic against your clit. You amped up your moans, hoping it was believable to Colby.

He yawned, gazing at you bored. You shook your head, deciding to ignore Colby. You were determined to come, to make them leave. But Brian was not helping you, which was upsetting.

“Brian, baby... go a little faster please.” You begged, annoyed.

He nodded, moving his tongue hastily. You could feel the pleasure build more, but it was still a long way away from being close to an orgasm. He slid a finger in, pumping in and out sloppily. You groaned, feeling even less turned on suddenly.

“I guess I know why you don't give head.” Colby swatted at Brian, “Move.”

Your eyes widened, “What? No! Brian, st-”

“I know you want to come so we leave, but that ain't gonna happen with Brian over here.” Colby mentioned.

"Well, maybe he could fuck me!" You argued, gesturing to his dick.

“But I'm not hard.” Brian stated.

Colby raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Eating pussy isn't really a turn on for me.” Brian informed.

“God, Y/N, you really know how to pick them.” Colby pulled him up by his arm, smiling sinisterly. “Brian, why don't you leave and go find Sam? I think he can teach you a valuable lesson on what happens to men that don't please their women.”

Brian turned and left, not saying another word. You huffed, glaring harshly at Colby. “Your little glares aren't going to do anything to me, sweetheart. If anything, they just make me hard.”

Colby's hand slid down and cupped your sex, palming your clit gingerly. You gasped, back arching as you pressed yourself against the counter. Colby barricaded you in, his hand beginning to make small circles on your clit.

“This is how a man fucks a woman like you.” He uttered, staring at you intensely.

“But you're not eating me out.” You challenged.

Colby cocked his head. “If you wanted my tongue, you could have just asked.”

You suddenly felt a tongue licking at your entrance, your body shuttering in ecstasy. “Fuck, h-how-?”

"Did you forget I have abilities? Is it because the horns aren't here?" The lights flickered, and when they turned back on, his horns were out. “How about now? Do you remember what I am now?”

"Yeaahhh, I remember." You whined, your head falling back in pleasure.

“You are so sexy when you get close to coming. God, it makes me hard just thinking about it.” Colby pushed his clothed, growing dick against your thigh, “Do you feel me?”

You nodded mindlessly, your hands gripping his forearms.

“Princess?” He asked innocently.

“Uh-huh?" You murmured.

“I think that's enough for you." All the sensations stopped, Colby pulling away from you.

“Wha-? No. No! Colby, please.” You grumbled.

He asserted, “It's time for you to be punished.”  

“What did I do?” You questioned, your mouth a gape.

"I'm sorry, was Brian that forgetful or do you like playing dumb?" Colby spun you around, making you face the mirror. He rolled your dress up a bit, pressing his bulge against your bare ass. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm gonna start fucking you, and you have to remain quiet. Just like you were with Brian."

You lowered your voice, “Why do I have to be silent?”

“Because otherwise, you'll get caught.” He whispered cheekily.

The door busted open, and a gaggle of women came in, chit chatting like there wasn't a demon about to fuck you right against the sink.

You gulped; your voice even quieter. “What the fuck, Colby?!”

"Don't worry, princess. If you remain silent, they won't see you. But once you make a single noise, they'll know. They'll know that you are a dirty slut that likes to get fucked in the bathroom. That you're so desperate for dick that you'd let a demon fuck you. And a vampire." He tsked sassily, "Double greedy."

Colby unbuttoned his pants, giving your ass a slap as his cock sprang free. You bit your lip, holding back a gasp.

"You ready for me, baby?" He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding along your lips. Then finally, he glided his cock in.

You trembled from the sensations, direly wanting to moan along with him. But you didn't want to get caught. Being fucked while others were around, whether they could see you or not, was embarrassing enough.

But also incredibly thrilling.

Colby thrusted deeply, his cock hitting the right spot over and over again. You felt overwhelmed, but in the best way. Your body already felt like it was building rapidly, your legs shaking under your weight. You felt like your skin was on fire, burning against the cool air.

A lady walked up to the sink next to you, washing her hands and looking at herself in the mirror. You shuttered out a breath, Colby picking up his pace.

“Don't look at her, Y/N. Look at yourself in the mirror. Watch yourself get fucked.” He commanded breathlessly.

You turned your head, staring straight. He smirked at you in the mirror, keeping his pace the same while lazily pulling off his tie.

"This is what you deserve, sweetheart. You're such a slut for me." He yanked your hands behind your back, tying them easily with his tie. He gripped your connected hands, bucking his hips harder and faster now.

Your body buzzed erotically, your hips gyrating in time with Colby's. You could feel your edge building; all you had to do was stay quiet.

Colby slid one hand down between your legs, finding your swollen clit instantly. He rubbed it faster than his thrusts, causing your whole body to jolt. You sucked in a harsh breath, knowing you shouldn't have. But God... the sensation was too much for you to stay quiet.

The women in the bathroom looked around, confused.

"Baby, do you want to get caught or something? Because you are being awfully loud. Maybe you need something in your mouth to quiet you down." He snaked his other hand up towards your face, his two fingers rubbing along your lips. You parted your mouth, allowing his fingers inside.

He cursed, “That's fucking it baby. Be a good girl and suck them for me.”

You sucked his fingers like your life depended on it. He finger-fucked your mouth in time with his dick, both speeding up as the minutes passed. You could feel yourself getting close, knowing that your orgasm was imminent.

“It's been too long since the last time you sucked my cock.” He chuckled darkly, “Maybe later you do that for me. Wouldn't you want that, princess?”

You nodded desperately, bucking your hips wildly against his cock and hands. You were about to explode, your edge hitting its peak. This is all you wanted for the last couple months: to be fucked hard and well. And that's what Colby was doing.

“You almost ready to come? Build up baby. Suck my fingers dry. Suck them like you would my dick.” You took his fingers deeper, gagging around them. You pumped yourself on his cock, whimpering. "There you go, baby. What a good girl." Colby leaned in, his horns grazing your cheek as he uttered, "My good girl... Come for me."

Your body spasmed around Colby's cock, bouncing on it helplessly. You moaned loudly around his fingers, not caring if anyone heard. You had been so focused on staring in the mirror at yourself getting fucked that didn't see that you and Colby were all alone in the bathroom once more. His eyes bore at you in the mirror, flashing to black.

Relaxing your hips, his cock pulled out of you for a moment, letting you relax. You felt your juices run down your inner thigh, your body still running high. You leaned down, placing your head against the counter as you took some deep breaths.

“Hi there, baby girl. “A familiar voice came from behind you, but it wasn't Colby's. You looked up quickly, Sam now behind you, and Colby was nowhere to be seen. Sam waved back at you in the mirror, smirking. "You ready for me now?"

“W-Where is Colby?” You stuttered, your pussy twitching at the thought of Sam's hard cock.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about him. He'll be back soon enough." Sam traced a finger along your sex, gasping. "God baby, you are so wet. Completely soaking yourself."

He took his finger into his mouth, tasting you. "Fuck, I missed that."

Your mouth hung open, watching him through lustful eyes. His hand snaked around to the front of your body, grabbing your neck firmly. He pulled you flush against his partially exposed body, his cock hard against your ass. "We give you everything you could ask for, and you still wanted someone like Brian? How pathetic."

He forced your head to look at yourself in the mirror, "You are a desperate slut just begging to be fucked. But we're the only ones that can make you feel this good."

Sam slammed his hips into yours, his cock taking you deeply. You grunted loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. He took advantage of your still tied up hands, holding them tightly. His other hand raced up your back, lowering you down to the sink. He placed you flat against the counter, fucking you harshly. You shook with each of his thrusts, mewling at every in and out.

“You think you get to choose who fucks you now? You think you can move on from us?” He fumed, his cocking hitting your spot repeatedly.

You panted, “Noooo.”

“There is no one other than us. Let me make that abundantly clear: you're ours.” Sam's fangs sunk into your skin, your eyes widening. He continued to bite you all over, barely drawing any blood, but marking you; letting everyone know you were taken.

Your second orgasm was close. You needed this second one badly, itching to come sooner rather than later. You could feel how desperate and hot and slutty it was turning you.

“Baby girl, do you deserve to come? Have you been good?” Sam questioned.

You nodded, your whole body shaking, “Yessss. Yes I have. Please Sam! Please!”

He pulled you up again, locking eyes with you in the mirror. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly. “Ride my dick, baby. Make yourself come on my dick.”

You uncontrollably bucked your hips, whining on his cock. His hold on your neck tightened just enough, making it hard to breath and your vision blurring. The lack of oxygen made your orgasm hit twice as hard. You soaked his member, moving mindlessly on it until you finally finished. Your legs gave out a bit, Sam catching you. He snickered, his red eyes taking you in through the mirror.

The doors to the bathroom busted open again, a random lady coming in. She turned and looked at the two of you, not even acknowledging what she had to be seeing. "Y/N, you need to come out there quick."

You were taken aback by this woman, unsure of who she was or what the hell she wanted you for. "W-what are you talking about?" You rushed, shimmying your dress down, trying to cover yourself back up.

“They're calling your name. You won an award!” She exclaimed, leaving the bathroom happily.

You furrowed your brow, turning to Sam. But he was gone. Those powers of their really do come in handy for moments like these.

You shuffled out of the bathroom, even more confused as you glanced around at everyone from your company. They were all looking at you, smiling brightly and being congratulatory. You walked towards the stage, the people directing you, and as you got closer, you saw Sam and Colby on it, holding a plaque of some sort.

Sam pulled you on stage, kissing your cheek sweetly. Colby handed you the award, shaking your hand dramatically. You took the award in your hand, turning it to see what it said.

“Give it up for Y/N everyone. The biggest slut of the year!” Sam yelled into the microphone. “Congratulations baby, you deserve it.”  

You gawked at Sam and Colby, the reality of what they did hitting you. You threw the award on the ground, glaring at them harshly.

“Hey now, we worked really hard on that.” Sam pouted.

“Fuck you, how dare you make me a fool in front of everyone!” You ranted, getting in their faces.

"Princess, no one is gonna remember this. And luckily, no one will remember this either." Colby smiled devilishly.

Sam and Colby grabbed at your dress, tearing it off your body like it was made of cheap fabric. The crowd cheered, your body heating up immediately as you were suddenly naked in front of everyone.

“Now, don't argue with us, plaything. You can bitch and moan all you want to but being fucked in front of everyone... turns you on.” Colby wrapped his arms around you, whispering in your ear, “No matter how much you want to deny it, you can't deny how drenched you are right now.”

Your body quivered as Colby's fingers slipped easily into your cunt. You fell back against him; his suddenly naked body cool against your hot skin. Sam sauntered up to you, rubbing his hands up and down your torso. His hands kneaded your breasts, nipples aching to be touched.

Sam laughed, “Look at her, Colby. She can't even argue with us. She knows that we're right. She is the biggest slut of the year. She's our slut, our toy, our plaything. Ours. Forever.”

The room erupted in applause, some even screaming out your name.

“Let's give them a show, princess,” Colby gestured to the eager crowd. Let the people see the real slut you are. Isn’t that what you want? To be fucked in front of everyone.”

You couldn't think anymore. Every sensation was overpowering your thoughts. You knew deep down that Sam and Colby were right, and all you could think of was how badly you wanted to come again.

You nodded feverishly, your hands automatically pawing at both of their bodies. The air around you changed once you said yes, your body being positioned graphically. Forced down onto your knees, Colby stood in front of you, while Sam was behind you.

“Aww, baby. Look, it's your favorite positions: on your hands and knees, getting railed by us.” Sam jested playfully.

Your sex throbbed, direly needing them inside of you. You whined, looking up at Colby. “Please, just fuck me. No more teasing.”

Colby stared into your eyes, jerking himself off right in front of your face. “You want this, huh? You want me in your mouth. Say it.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I want you in my mouth.”

“And what about me, toy?” Sam slapped your ass, making you look back at him.

“Fuck, I need it. I need the both of you so bad!” You cried, grinding your hips back against Sam.

Hoots and hollers sounded off around the room. You glanced at the crowd, their hungry eyes taking your desperate form in.

“Fine then, since you asked so nicely,” Colby cupped your face, turning your head back to his cock. The tip pushed against your mouth, sliding in easily. He moaned lowly, almost animalistically. Sam teased his cock along your entrance, slipping in effortlessly.

Once they were in you, you sighed deeply. It felt so good to be surrounded by Sam and Colby, to be filled by them. They had you right where they wanted you, and you loved every second of it.

And the crowd seemed to love it even more.

They started off slow, taking their time to build your pleasure up. There was nothing else on your mind. All you could think about was their cock and how much you wanted them to come deep inside of you.

Colby gaped, “Oh princess, you have the filthiest mind. Maybe even dirtier than ours.”

“That's why she's our slut. We are just innocent people being used by this whore of a woman,” Sam shuttered, lulling his head back as he fucked you. “And God, I love every second of it.”

“I could fuck this mouth for hours. How does that sound, sweetheart? You love that idea, don't you?” Colby breathed, biting his lip, staring down at you.

You nodded enthusiastically, taking his shaft deeper. He grunted, hips twitching. His hand rested on your head lightly, pulling your hair softly. His grip tightened, causing you to gag around him.

Sam cursed, “Fuuuuck, she clenched around me when gagged. Keep doing that, baby girl. That felt so good.”

“Y/N, how can you get all of this, all of us, and still want something else? Especially Brian. What a fucking loser.” Colby groaned, disgusted.

Sam agreed, grimacing. “Dude didn't even know how to eat pussy. He didn't even like eating pussy.”

The crowd booed, screaming expletives at the sound of Brian's name.

“See, everyone knows that Brian sucks. How could you ever settle for something like that when you have the best right here?” Sam inquired. “Two men willing to do anything to make you come.”

"Let me make this perfectly clear, darling," Colby pulled himself out of you, raising you up so you were eye level with him. He held your face firmly, his voice low and calm. “While I'm never the type to get jealous, and watching you get eaten out by that joke of a man was entertaining and kinda sexy, let me be honest with you.”

His face dropped, his eyes darkening with each word. "If you ever go after another man again, I will personally make sure to rip his heart out in front of you, and then I’ll breed your cunt so deeply you will feel me for days. Because there is no one else for you, princess. Just. Us. Forever. That means for eternity, you are ours. You are mine."

Sam yanked your hair, pulling you out of Colby's grip for a moment. He grunted harshly, "That goes for me too, baby girl. If you ever even breathe near another man again, I might have to drain your sexy little body dry and turn you into our immortal plaything for forever. And don't think for a second I'm bluffing."

Colby took you by the neck, pulling you back towards him, choking you lightly. All the while, Sam was still fucking you. "There is no escaping us, Y/N. We will never let you go. No matter what you do for the rest of your life, we will always be there, in the shadows, watching. We own you. And nothing will change that."

His face relaxed, going back into his casual, smug look. "So... in the meantime, enjoy yourself, princess. And open your mouth again."

He pushed you down, his cock still hard and leaking, ready to fuck your mouth. Their words sank deeply into your mind, arousing and frightening you all at the same time.

Colby thrusted himself back in, gagging you. “There you go, baby. But now, I think it's time we give the people what they want. Right, everybody?!”

The room screamed in approval, lustful energy shooting through you from the sound. Suddenly, Sam and Colby began fucking you passionately, the sheer brutal force alone bouncing you back and forth on their cocks. You whined around them, feeling yourself get lost in the feeling of being their toy.

Sam groaned a breathy sound, “God, you're basically just a fleshlight, Y/N. Don't you love being used by us?”

“You know she does, Sam. Just a set of holes for us to use.” Colby’s voice was husky and low, “God, her mouth feels incredible.”

“She's so pathetic, really. She squeezed around me so tightly when we called her names. Maybe we should do that more often.” Sam taunted.

“Of course. There are so many more names we could come up with for her. But right now, all I'm concerned about is coming down her throat and fucking her until she chokes.” Colby's hips sped up as he face-fucked you. You didn't even have time to react, your jaw becoming slack and just allowing him to take over and use it like a toy. Tears welled up and rolled down your cheeks and drool dribbled down your chin from his harsh actions.

Sam's hand went between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. Your thighs shook from the feeling, the pleasure overwhelming.

“You're so close, aren't you, princess?” Colby panted.

Sam chimed in; his voice depraved. “Build up for us. Come with us, baby girl.”

They pounded into you in unison, almost taking the breath out of you with each thrust. The room began getting louder, chants of "Come for us" came from the crowd, building up in time with your orgasm.

Every part of this was spectacular and you couldn't get enough.

Your breathing hitched as your orgasm hit the edge, ready to fall over once they said you could. Sam and Colby kept going, kept using you, until they were ready. You begged them to let you come, your pleas muffled by Colby’s cock. Both thrusted with abandonment, needing to come just as badly as you.

Colby grunted, pulling your hair, “Fuck, fuck! Y/N, come! Come for us now!”

“Do it baby! That's fucking it, YES!” Sam growled, his fingers bruising your hips as he held them tightly.

All three of you exploded in euphoric pleasure, bellowing out in ecstasy. The crowd roared as Sam and Colby filled you up with their cum. You released around Sam's cock, soaking him. You swallowed as much of Colby's cum as you could, gagging as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly until finally slowing his hips down. Sam slammed inside of you once more, grunting out a strained cry. Your body was spent, exhausted from being fucked so many times. You felt yourself black out, unable to stay awake a moment longer.

When you came to, you were in your hotel room, inside the same hotel the event had taken place at. You felt sore everywhere, knowing that wasn’t a dream. You sighed happily, snuggling into bed. You noticed a note on the side of your pillow. You picked it up, reading it quickly.

Ours.

- Sam and Colby

<< Part 3B ||

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fic #sam golbach fanfiction #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #sam golbach smut #colby brock smut #sam golbach one shot #colby brock one shot #sam golbach oneshot #colby brock oneshot #sam golbach x reader #colby brock x reader #sam and colby x reader #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Superhero X Villain! F! Reader

Wanna buy me a coffee: ☕

TW: Dubcon, spankings, kidnapping, bodily horror

PT.2

Your real name is Y/N L/N, but your villain name is Anima. After your latest failure in trying to find a job, you went into the woods to end it all. Then, by some miracle, an entity older than any Abrahamic religion found your dead body and brought you back to life. Your senses were heightened, and you could hear the animal's chatter and noises as words. With a new feeling of power, you went through society doing whatever you wanted. Even if it meant a few people with broken bones or blood on the floor. That was until a superhero by the name of superhero by the name of Ultimate Man appeared and started defeating you in battle.

He isn't going to be a problem anymore after you take him out with your new suit. Not only does it have the abilities and strengths of every animal alive, but it has the strengths and abilities of the extinct ones. It took kidnapping a paleontologist, but it is so worth it.

"Anima, surrender, and you won't get hurt," Ultimate Man commands, floating a few feet above the ground.

"Sorry, but rent's due," You say, running off with the bags of money from the bank.

As you run, he shoots lasers at you, but you dodge them by zigzagging. Unfortunately, this leads to you not paying attention to where you're going, and you run yourself off a harbor walk. The money sinks into the ocean, and you struggle to swim back up. You switch to the abilities of any marine animal, but it's still not helping you. You see your feet entangled in seaweed and try to break free. Your struggle to free yourself has worn you out, and it seems like this is your last run. Your vision goes black as your instincts tell you to go up to the surface and breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you open your eyes, your jaw and ass feel sore. You try to talk, but there's a gag in your mouth.

"How dare you be such a bad girl and cause so much trouble? Do you have no respect for anyone in this city? Who cares if your rent is due? Get! A! Fucking! Job!" Ultimate Man rants, spanking your ass after every word.

"MM! MH! AWCH!" You scream, your legs kicking as Ultimate Man uses his godly strength to spank you.

The tight latex suit didn't help with the spankings, in fact, the material made sure your body could feel them at their full force.

"Oh, I see the worst girl of the century has awakened. How does it feel knowing you almost got yourself killed trying to steal money?" Ultimate Man asks, taking off your gag.

His blonde hair with light blue highlights, aquamarine eyes, and skin-tight latex white and blue suit is a sight for the eyes. His appearance is ethereal, representing his alien origin from outer space sent to help out Earth on its newest supernatural threat(you.) Who knew having the power of every animal in existence would warrant alien help for the planet Earth?

"I'm sorry, Ultimate Man. I was only trying to pay my rent. Honest," You plead, bracing for another swat to the ass. "I didn't get the raise at my job, even though I deserve it, and I couldn't pay this month's rent."

"I believe you," Ultimate Man says, his hand still rubbing your ass. "But that doesn't mean I forgive you for what you did. I was so worried when you didn't rise from the water. I thought I lost you forever. I need a suitable mate, and you're the only one with abilities almost equal to mine on this planet."

"I'm sorry, WHAT?! I thought you were in a relationship with that news writer, Lora?" You ask, lifting your head.

"Are you kidding me? We're just friends. She couldn't compare to your beauty and strength. Now then, how about we get to know each other."

Ultimate Man peels off your eye mask, then takes out his contacts. There are no pupils in his eyes, just pools of aquamarine. It creeps you out, but at least he's still hot.

"I'm ☍⍀⍜⎍☍⟒⋏ ⏃⏃⍀☍⟒⋔. But you can call me Krouken Aarkem, which is pronounced Cro-oo-can Ar-kem. My human father calls me Ken. Now, what's your name?" Ultimate Man asks, lifting your body with ease.

"It's Marnie," You lie, not wanting to give him your real name.

His fingertips glow blue, and he places them on your head. Pain takes over your head as he searches through the deepest parts of your memory.

"Y/N M/N L/N. What a beautiful name. I'll make sure to bring over your cat so you can have your baby," Krouken says, removing his hands from you.

You slap him and stumble to the other side of the couch.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You groan, holding your head.

"What did I do wrong? Please don't be mad at me!" Krouken cries, jumping onto your body and hugging you tightly. "I'll never do it again unless you want me to! I promise! Just don't be mad at me!"

"Alright! Alright! I'm not mad at you! Just get off of me!" You yell, pushing him off you after feeling his boner on your leg.

"Yay! Now, we can engage in the Plutonian ritual we call Improving."

Krouken starts taking off his suit, revealing his naked body to you. You back up but bump into the couch, leaving you nowhere to run. He touches your suit, liquifying the material and making it fall off your body like water. Krouken kisses you, his hand tracing every part of your body as if he were memorizing it.

"Your heart is beating fast? Do you want to fight me?" Krouken asks his hand on your chest.

"No. It's just something the human body does when we feel certain emotions," You explain, holding Krouken's hand.

"So you are excited to Improve too? Excellent, I can move forward," Krouken replies, his two dicks merging into one with the width of an adult's fist.

Your eyes widen in fear of the inhuman cock in front of you. There was no way it was going to fit. It was too wide to fit in your human pussy. If it were to go inside you, you'd feel it in your lungs.

"Wait, I think we should-" You plead, only for Krouken to shove his massive cock inside of you.

You can feel it moving inside as if his dick was made from thousands of little suction cups that were kissing your vaginal walls. Krouken's arm holds you in place, and he thrusts.

"Keep going, Krouken!" You moan, lifting your leg and putting it on his shoulder.

Krouken bites and sucks your nipples as he thrusts faster, his dick suction cups losing their grip and becoming more slippery.

"You're never going to be a bad girl ever again. I'm going to fill your stomach up with so many babies that you'll never be able to think of doing stupid shit without having trouble standing up. You're going to birth the next generation of my people. You're mine, all mine. Not those villain's colleague or someone else's enemy, mine," Krouken rambles, thrusting at an inhuman rate, destroying whatever tightness your pussy had.

His eyes become white as he cums, his alien cock suction cups releasing thousands of sperm. Upon his sperm's release, his genital suction cups regained their grip on your walls, and sucking on them, making you go into overdrive. You cum on his dick, and he shudders. Both of you relish in your afterglow, sweat dripping from your body.

"So, what did you think of Improving?" Krouken asks, his head resting on your breasts.

"It was good. By the way, why do your people call it that?" You ask, rubbing Krouken's wet hair.

"Because we improve each other's bodies. Once my seed is in you, it will rework some human DNA so you'll be more like me and vice versa. Your skin is already starting to become shiny and ethereal like my skin," Krouken answers, kissing your neck.

Your body feels extremely hot, like lava is in your veins, and your eyes are burning like no tomorrow. Your spine releases a horrifying crack as your body involuntarily jolts upwards. All you can do is scream as your bones and body transform permanently.

#yandere superhero #yandere alien #yandere x reader #f! reader #yandere dubcon #yandere teratophilia #villain! reader #sanyuthewitch05 #yandere smut

[gimmethatagustd]

what the fire gave us (1) | jjk

You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

🔥 pairing: shadow elemental!jungkook x water elemental!(f)reader

🔥 rating/genre: BTS | 18+ | dystopian | supernatural | friends to lovers | angst | smut | fluff

🔥 part of a spring offering collab

🔥 wc/date: 9.7k | june 2023

🔥 warnings: major character death (doesn't occur until part 2 but i'm being nice by warning you now; not jk or reader), minor character death, referenced past murder, smut (doesn't occur until part 2), unrequited love (not between reader & jk), reference to human experimentation (nothing is described in detail), persecution of supernatural people, mentions past war, blood, injuries/violence, they all definitely have ptsd, jungkook is a precious baby boy but he'll also kick your ass, JESSI !!!!!! JESSI STANS RISE UP !! JESSI IS THE COMEDIC RELIEF !!! (at least, i find her funny)

🔥 notes: PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS. there is heavy angst, particularly in part 2. i hope that you enjoy this story, even with its cuts and bruises. think of it as stranger things meets avatar the last airbender 😂

🔥 more notes: i was supposed to finish this fic in may lmfao but y'all should know by now that there's no point in trusting me to do what i'm supposed to do. i'm sorry but i will probably never change 😭 ANYWAY. this fic is gonna be over 20k, so i decided to upload it in two parts in an attempt to maintain my sanity cuz this website is trash about handling long posts. i'm almost done with part 2, so it should be uploaded within a week (i swear to GOD i mean it). also, if you follow me on AO3 you'll see that i'm posting this fic in multiple chapters. that's cuz i like the formatting of AO3 chapters better than tumblr. the formatting fits the story better, too.

🔥 main masterlist / part two

🔥 what was jai listening to? cyberpunk - ateez

moodboard credit: @btscontentenjoyer

3 MONTHS

Lookout duty is hard on you. When it’s your turn to camp out on the roof and watch for potential threats, you complain that staying awake all night is hard. Most of the other runaways are night owls, but you aren’t. You need your beauty sleep, you joke. You can’t get comfortable on the roof, even if there’s a flat landing with pillows and blankets to keep you warm. 

These are a few of your excuses, but you can’t bring yourself to tell the others the truth: you are scared. 

It’s close to midnight when you hear the creak of the trapdoor opening. The likelihood of it being anyone other than the group of Gifted runaways you live with is low, but you can’t trust that the impossible wouldn’t happen. You’ve seen the impossible happen far too often.  

Hopping down from the old milk crate you’d been sitting on, you crouch behind a giant bean bag with your bow and arrow ready. The harness you wear strapped around your torso holds your spare arrows. It digs hard enough into your shoulder that you form blisters if you don’t wear a thick enough shirt. 

The fluffy pink hair poking out of the trapdoor makes you sigh in relief. 

“Hey, kid,” the pink-haired man whispers. 

He gently closes the trapdoor and walks with a hunched back toward you, careful not to expose too much of his body beyond the roof’s railing. The abandoned warehouse you live in is on the city's outskirts, with nothing for miles but empty concrete parking lots and overgrown plots of land. 

Still, you never know who might be out there. Although the Red Pins have only inflicted pain from within their research facilities, all the runaway Gifteds know that the government employs more than one type of evil to hunt them down. 

You try not to think about them, those scientists in long white coats that fall to their thighs and blood-red nametags pinned to their labels with names you often see painted on the walls of your nightmares. Lately, the frequency of the nightmares has lessened. It doesn’t feel like it, though, when you often wake in the middle of the night to your friends screaming in their sleep while they suffer through their own trauma. You wish the knowledge that the pain of being government lab rats is something you all share could be comforting. But, instead, it only makes you hurt more.  

“Yoongi,” you huff, returning to your perch on the milk crate. Now your hands are all sweaty. “You should be sleeping.” 

“Hi, Yoongi; nice to see you too! Thanks for coming to hang out with me!” Yoongi mocks your voice, clearly stating what he thinks you should have said. “Oh, no problem, Y/N. I just wanted to see how you were doing and hang out with my favorite kiddo.” 

You scrunch your nose at kiddo. 

“I’m not a kid.” 

Yoongi leans over to rub his knuckles into your head. “Nah, you definitely are.” 

Despite the lack of lighting outside, Yoongi practically glows. That’s always how it is with fire elementals. It’s like they absorb all the light and let it buzz inside them. Like fireflies, you’d once told Yoongi. He hadn’t found it cute to be compared to a bug. 

“If I’m a firefly, then you’re a fucking fish,” he’d teased. You’d promptly summoned water from a nearby puddle to throw in his face. 

For as long as you can remember, that’s how it has been between the two of you: fire and water. A push and pull. So different that you need each other to be whole. 

You watch Yoongi get comfortable in the bean bag, his skinny limbs spreading like a starfish and his eyes lifting to the sky. In quiet moments like this, you would give anything to hold him. And not out of fear like you had when the scary men came to take you away from your parents. And not out of anger like you had to when you stopped him from blowing up the research facility they’d held you in. 

No, you want to hold him and for it to be gentle, soft, and peaceful. 

Like now, when the world is silent except for the crickets calling to each other in the weeds and the rustle of wind in the trees. 

But he thinks you’re just a kid. 

You’re not that much younger than him. But, if you put in the effort to look at your relationship objectively, you’d see that Yoongi’s paternal nature comes out with you and the other runaway Gifteds. He cares for you as an older brother would. 

It’s not enough for you, though. It will never be enough.  

“Is everyone else asleep?” You rest your elbows on your knees and hold your chin in your hand. When you speak, you look out at the empty field. 

“Hobi sneezed and blasted a hole through the bathroom wall,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle. “So me and Joon found some supplies to patch it up the best we could. I think they’re all asleep now, though.” 

“How is it Hobi’s the one breaking shit and Namjoon’s fixing it?” You press your hand against your mouth to muffle the ugly snort bursting from you. There’s very little to find funny in this life, so you cherish how your chest burns with fond warmth. 

“The world’s all backwards.” Yoongi’s gummy smile lights up the night and tears into your heart. 

The two of you fall silent once again. Moving slowly, you reach out to hook your pinky finger with Yoongi’s, a small smile forming when you feel his pinky wrap tightly around yours. 

“Where are we gonna go, Yoong?” 

He watches you with eyes heavy with sleep, determined to stay up with you even though he doesn’t need to. Initially, you thought it was because he wanted to keep you company. Now, you often wonder if it’s because Yoongi is afraid to sleep, too. He never speaks about his experience at the Labs; the other runaways have learned the hard way not to ask. Singed eyebrows don’t look good on anyone. 

“I don’t know.” 

You already knew this would be the answer, but it scares you anyway. Yoongi always knows everything. 

Yoongi lets go of your hand to sit up in the bean bag. 

“Hey, kid,” he whispers. He gently presses his palm to your jaw, cupping your face. You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch in your throat. “As long as we’re together, you don’t gotta worry about anything, okay?” 

You stare at him for a long time, searching the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

3 MONTHS, 1 WEEK

There’s a stream that cuts through the overgrown fields behind the warehouse. It’s man-made, flowing from a sewer tunnel beneath the cracked parking lot - and likely from somewhere else, perhaps connected to a lake beyond the woods at the property's edge. The separation between industrialization and the natural world of the unknown hurts your heart. You’d never felt longing until you found yourself inside a cage of cinderblock walls and concrete floors. 

A rope of water whips across your face, drawing you from your thoughts of the woods. It’s muddy and makes your skin and clothes smell sour. 

Though the air is still crisp and bites at the tip of your nose, spring came early this year. It takes minimal effort for Namjoon to draw more water from the soiled stream as it’s not frozen over like it should be. With a flick of his wrist, another rope of water hits you, this time across your chest. 

“Aghh!” 

“Pay attention.” 

You lift your arm in enough time to block his next assault. The liquid rope freezes in the air before shattering into a thousand glimmering pieces, scattering jagged ice across the pale yellow grass. 

“I’m tired of this, Grandpa.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the pop culture reference; you’re pleased he understood. Posed to speak, mouth already opening, he barely gets a sound out before another voice bellows across the field. 

“WELL, THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD!” 

Hoseok isn’t afraid to be loud. He smiles, all teeth and pink tongue, and throws his head back as he cackles. Everywhere he goes, he carries the smell of spring with him - cherry blossoms and morning dew that makes newly-grown pieces of grass stick wet against ankles. 

You close your eyes and let spring overpower the sour smell of sewer water Namjoon has thrown at you for the past hour. It lets you forget how your skin aches with welts and bruises. 

As Hoseok bounds toward you and Namjoon, a dark tornado spins beside him. When he gets closer, you can see Hoseok occasionally blowing a small gust of air toward the tornado. It appears to be made of smoke, a gradient of grays and blacks. 

“Look at this,” your friend announces with a mischievous grin. “Me and JK learned a new trick.” 

With a quick snap of Hoseok’s fingers, you and Namjoon watch in patient silence as the tornado begins to slow its speed. Almost gently, the smoke curls tighter and tighter until the darkness turns into a solid mass. 

Jungkook stumbles a few times as he attempts to get his footing. His limbs continue to propel his body into a small spin. 

Hoseok quickly reaches out to grab the younger man. Secure hands squeeze his shoulders, and then it’s only Jungkook’s head lolling about. 

“Cool, right?” Jungkook’s voice is gruff, but his lips curl into a weak smile. 

Namjoon lets out a long sigh. “You look like you’re going to be sick.” 

Although Namjoon is right, Jungkook does look like the effort of his little party trick took a toll on his body; you can’t help but match his smile. Especially when his eyes flick toward yours. You told his gaze for half a second before Jungkook quickly looks away. His cheeks flush pink, but you’re sure it’s from the exertion of all that spinning. 

“I think it’s really cool,” you praise the two while elbowing Namjoon in the ribs. With a grumble, your sparring partner returns to his previous stance a few feet away. 

“We should go again. Just for a little while longer.” 

Every muscle in your body feels stiff when you turn away from Hoseok and Jungkook. 

“I hurt all over, Joonie.” 

“Let her rest!” Hoseok adds to your whining. “All we ever do is practice fighting.” 

“Sparring.” 

Hoseok waves a dismissive hand at the younger man. “Whatever you want to call it. I find it to be fri-” 

You stifle a laugh by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as Hoseok is tackled to the ground by Jungkook. The two men roll around, all arms and legs, kicking up dead grass and dirt. A lot of howling and teasing laughter rings through the open air. 

It isn’t until Jungkook is launched into the sky by a gust of wind you know comes from Hoseok, and lands roughly on his back, that the playful fight ceases. How Jungkook lands knocks all the air out of his chest, but he laughs once his lungs start working again. 

“Ridiculous, all of you.” Hoseok brushes grass from his clothes. It’s futile; they’re dirty and ragged anyway. Try as you and Namjoon might to use your Gifts to clean the clothes; water does little when there’s no soap. 

“I let you win,” Jungkook teases.

Still, he stands a bit further from Hoseok than he had previously. Not far enough for anyone to notice, aside from you. You notice although you don’t mean to. It’s hard not to when Jungkook keeps stealing glances, only to look away when you try to return his gaze. 

“You did not.” 

“Did, too.” His insistence makes you giggle. 

“And how did that work out for you? Hmm? How does your back feel? I know you landed on that rock.” 

“I-It, it doesn’t hurt.” Jungkook glances your way. His cheeks are still pink. “Would take more than that to hurt me.” 

“Jungkook is impossible to beat.” 

You startle at the gentle voice, spinning on your heels to see Yoongi approaching the group. He’s got a leather satchel strapped across his chest and resting at his hip. It bulges with what you assume are plants and fruits scavenged from the woods. 

“Boy Scouts” is what Yoongi offered when you asked how he knew so much about surviving in nature. It was peculiar; nothing about Yoongi seemed like the type. He’s tougher, more steel than wood or earth. A bulletproof shield, you think. Broad and strong. 

“Impossible?” 

Your question is meant to be a tease, but Yoongi’s face remains stoic. Such a severe look only reveals itself when he assumes his position as your misfit group’s leader. It would be extremely attractive if it didn’t scare you.   

“How can you fight shadows?” Yoongi deadpans. He stares into your eyes long enough to make your face feel hot, but you don’t look away. 

“I…” 

Yoongi hums at your lack of an answer. Suddenly, you feel unbelievably small. 

“It’s not impossible,” Jungkook whispers. His head hangs low, long bangs hiding his face. The rest of his hair is tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. “I’m just as beatable as you, hyung.” 

Something about Yoongi’s expression softens at the honorific. Formalities died long ago, along with many other traditions that once made Korea what it was. So many things died during the war - tangible and cultural - lives and ways of being. Now, the Republic is something you know your friends no longer recognize. Although it is not your home country, your heart aches for what it once was - something you will never have the privilege to experience because you arrived during the Restoration of the Republic - a fallacy of an era since the country was never restored to how it was. 

That may be best. It is easier to mourn the loss of something you never knew.

In moments like this, you feel terribly inadequate - when you speak with broken Korean or struggle to understand the foreign politics behind why Gifteds are hunted, no matter how many times Namjoon patiently attempts to teach you. All you know is that, at least here, to be Gifted is not a death sentence, per se. Other countries’ governments have been far less lenient with their mutant population. 

You’re simply seen as a science experiment to be tested on, poked and prodded, pushed until you’re driven mad, and then warped into whatever shape the government has the need for. 

“You have no match,” Yoongi smiles softly at Jungkook with a shake of his head. “I do.” 

Holding out his hand, a small flame appears in the center of Yoongi’s palm. It floats just above the skin, though he isn’t burned. You’ve seen Yoongi summon fire a million times from the heat of the air around him, and he never ceases to amaze you.

With a nod in Namjoon’s direction, Yoongi waits for a small rope of dirty water to splash against his hand. Namjoon is much kinder in his attack against Yoongi, only summoning enough water to extinguish the flame. 

“Water will always win against me,” Yoongi admits. This time, he holds your gaze when he speaks. “It is my match.” 

You feel something stir in your belly that migrates up your chest until it eventually threatens to suffocate you, nearly getting lodged in your throat. 

“You would do well to continue sparring with Namjoon,” he says after a moment before turning to Hoseok and Jungkook, who have otherwise been silent. 

It’s an order, even if Yoongi is gentle with his words. 

With a sigh, you turn back to Namjoon. It’s difficult to stamp down the heat Yoongi always manages to trigger inside of you. You would compare him to fire even if it didn’t already run in his veins. 

Drawing from the murky stream, you weave a ball of water between your palms.

“Let’s go again.” 

While you spar with Namjoon, Yoongi leads Hoseok and Jungkook to the other end of the field.

You and Namjoon spar as though you are dancing. It’s a push and pull, your rhythms falling into harmony, even when one of you performs a surprise attack or a new move that hasn’t been practiced before. Perhaps it is because you both fight with water. There is a fluidity to it that the others don’t possess. 

Occasionally, your eyes stray to where Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook have begun to spar. The three men do not dance. Instead, they are a fury of elements intertwining in chaos. The wind snuffs fire, Yoongi and Hoseok blasting each other incessantly. Shadows allow Jungkook to disappear before being hit by an attack, only to reappear right behind his opponent to go in for the kill. 

And it would be a kill if this was real. You know Jungkook keeps a rather terrifying knife strapped to his thigh. You all carry weapons, though you don’t really need them. Even Jungkook, with a Gift that’s misunderstood and exceptionally rare, is never found without his weapon. 

Out of all the Gifteds you’ve met on your way to safety, you have never encountered another who can manipulate shadows. So, there is truth to Yoongi’s statement. 

Jungkook is terrifying, even with the wide, starry eyes he always seems to stare at you with. He’s quiet and shy, typically sticking to Hoseok. You assume it’s likely because you found the two of them together. Both were kept in the same room at the research facility in Busan. As unassuming as Jungkook may be, you’ve seen him manipulate shadows to wrap around a Red Pin’s neck. Those shadows twisted and tightened until the man crumpled. 

You didn’t need to have the Gift of blood manipulation to know when his heart stopped. 

It was one of the scariest moments of your life, even beyond the suffering you’d endured having lived in the research facilities since you were a teen. Before then, you’d never seen someone die. Even when Yoongi and Namjoon helped you escape, they shielded you from the worst of it. It wasn’t until the three of you came upon the newest facility that such horrors were unleashed. 

Jungkook hates himself for it. You know he does; you typically make your bed beside his, and he cries in his sleep. Self-defense protects the body in the moment, but harms the mind and heart long-term. 

You probably would have done the same. 

For as tragic as his story is - or what little you know of it - Jungkook has an undeniably beautiful soul. Those horrors have yet to turn him cruel or his heart black. Even when he spars, you can tell that he’s being gentle. He holds back and doesn’t reach his full potential out of fear of hurting others, you’re sure. You can see it in how he bounces on the balls of his feet to keep his movements light and how his back muscles ripple beneath his shirt as it clings to his skin. A bead of sweat runs along his neck, over the vein that bulges from his exerting effort. 

Something prickles under your skin. When you look up, it’s into those wide eyes full of galaxies you’ll never understand, are somehow okay with not understanding if it means you can continue to gaze upon them. 

A small smile pulls the corners of Jungkook’s mouth up. His expression is short-lived, though, quickly falling as a bright orange flame licks at his ankles. 

“Don’t let my words get to your head, Jeon,” Yoongi teases. “Impossible to beat, but easy to hurt.” 

This time, you catch Yoongi’s eye. You duck your head when he winks at you, just in time to block another blast of water from Namjoon. 

“Why is everyone so off today?” Namjoon grumbles to himself. You haven’t managed to successfully hit him even once. 

“I’m tired,” you whine again, dropping a ball of water to the ground. Dead grass quickly soaks it up once it splashes. “We should check on Jessi.” 

Your group's sixth and final member is tucked away in the corner of the warehouse on the top floor. It’s dark up there, though Yoongi’s everlasting fire, paired with the windows Jessi managed to open, gives enough light for her to work. 

She has black grease smudged on her left cheek and across her forehead. Her long, thick hair is tied back into a ponytail, though strands have fallen out to frame her face. When you step closer, you hear her muttering, but you can’t make out what she’s saying. It’s not for you. She speaks, facing the black box placed in front of where she kneels on the floor. The floor can’t feel good on her knees with its bits of broken concrete and dirt. Everything hurts in this life; it hardly matters as long as you’re here and not there. 

“This piece of shit,” Jessi hisses, running her hands across her face. It smears more grease onto her skin, but she doesn’t care. 

“Not working?” 

“Beep beep boop beeping all over the fucking place, then static. White noise and shit. Like it’s telling me to fuck off even though I’m the one fixing it.” 

You hum, crouching down to stare at the box. It’s an old radio meant to transport messages back and forth. Perhaps left behind by the military after it had occupied this land while it bulldozed the vigilantes seeking to save Gifteds from the fate you all ended up sharing anyway. 

Jessi tweaks a few exposed wires. Every time they spark, you flinch. Mini white lightning, it’s deadly for anyone but Jessi. She grumbles and continues her work with deft fingers calloused from toiling away at the stupid thing for months. 

“I’m normally so fucking good at this, I swear to God.” 

Frustration colors her tone, even if her expression and cursing didn’t already give her feelings away. 

You don’t doubt her, though, and you tell her as much. Still, you know firsthand that it sucks when your powers don’t work how you want them to. As a technopath, fixing the radio should be easy work for her.

“There must be something wrong with it… Maybe the Red Pins did something to it?” 

You don’t know anything about technology. Even with the phone you’d stolen off one of the Red Pins, all you’d gotten to do was look at TikTok and try to find out where your parents were before Yoongi made you destroy the device. The government had ways to track you. Technology was as much your friend as a stranger on the street. 

With a sigh, Jessi leans back until she’s sitting flat on the grimy floor. 

“Maybe? Fuck if I know. I think I’m getting close, though. I’m getting some frequency when I concentrate really hard, but I wanna fix it so it’ll work even without me.” 

Your friend whispers the end of her statement. It goes without saying; each one of you knows the fragility of life on the run. 

“Thank you for working so hard.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see her watery eyes shine. It hurts your heart, but all you can offer is a light squeeze of her shoulder. 

Jessi shrugs. “It’s as much for me as it is for you.” 

You watch her stand and brush the dirt from her butt, her joints cracking from sitting down too long. When you first joined this mutant crew, you would have followed behind Jessi to comfort her. But, after months of running and fighting, you’ve learned that sometimes solitude is the best healing method. 

4 MONTHS, 2 DAYS

“What makes you think you’re ready? That any of us are ready?” 

Yoongi watches you with catlike eyes from where he sits at the kitchen table. The chairs circled around the battered wooden table are mismatched and in varying stages of deterioration from being abandoned for so long. The one Yoongi sits in is metal, and he leans on its two back legs, his right foot pressed to the floor to keep himself steady and his arms crossed against his chest. 

Although Yoongi isn’t raising his voice - he never does - you still feel like you’re being scolded. 

“I know we are,” you challenge him. Your voice is steady even as your fingers tremble. To stop them from shaking, you squeeze your hands into a fist, nails biting at the skin of your palms. 

You should sit down, but holding your energy in is hard. Instead, you pace the kitchen while Yoongi’s cat eyes and Jessi’s wide ones follow you. You feel like a lion looping its cage, the desire to run restricted and confined. 

“How?” 

“We can’t stay here, Yoong! We can’t. I can’t.” 

The front legs of Yoongi’s chair slam into the concrete floor. He allows the momentum to pull him forward, landing his elbows on the table’s surface. 

Looking at Yoongi hurts. You can tell from his face that the next thing he says won’t be pleasant. His lips are pressed into a fine line that curves downward slightly. It’s cute how he can pull off a straight-lipped frown, but not when it’s directed at you. 

It’s been at least an hour of back and forth between the three of you. Jessi tapped out a long time ago, resolved to watch the tennis match of an argument between you and Yoongi rather than exert energy on a fight she isn’t committed to. Yoongi and Jessi have the final say in all group decisions as the group's elders. It’s another reminder of how you think Yoongi sees you as someone to take care of rather than an equal. 

“Have you ever killed someone before, Y/N?” 

You pause your pacing to stand in front of the table. Yoongi is an exceptional cook, managing to create delicious meals out of what little you all have to work with from the forest. But now, at this moment, you feel like you’re going to be sick from the food churning in your stomach. 

“No.”  

“No,” Yoongi repeats. He speaks slowly, like he’s mulling your answer over, letting it twist around his tongue until he’s satisfied enough with its taste to swallow it down. 

Leaning forward, Yoongi presses his palms against the table’s surface. He spreads his fingers and stares at them. The two of you seem to trace over the scars that line his skin, little nicks, and slices that healed light pink or blazing white. You’ve never seen Yoongi naked, but you have seen a good expanse of his body when you’ve used your Gift to help the others get clean. From what you’ve seen, you know Yoongi’s entire body is littered with battle scars. 

“I have,” he admits what you already knew, and the gravelly sound of his voice makes you shudder. “Jungkook has.” 

You wince at the mention of the younger man, but Yoongi doesn’t give you a chance to speak. 

“Do you want to ask him what it’s like to squeeze the life out of another man? He may have done it with shadows, but I guarantee he still felt it in his hands.” 

Yoongi lifts his eyes to yours when the first tear rolls down your cheek. Concern wrinkles his forehead. 

“Yoongi,” you start, but the pink-haired man shakes his head. 

“I don’t mean to upset you, kiddo.” The pet name twists your gut tighter with frustration - even though Yoongi’s voice is filled with gentle adoration when he calls out to you. “But I’ll be damned if I let us walk into that forest without knowing where we’re going or whose claws we’re running into. The Gifted Commune is, at best, a rumor. At worst - a trap.”

You want to tell him that falling for a rumor or getting caught by the government is better than sitting in a concrete cage. The prospect of finding a community of other Gifted runaways who have managed to create a society safe from the evils you’ve grown up with means more to you than the fear of the unknown. 

There’s no use, though. Jessi is nodding along to Yoongi’s words; the blank expression she wears when she’s upset already masks her face.

“I will not put you in a situation where you must kill or be killed, Y/N. I won’t fucking do it.” Yoongi clears his throat suddenly, and he looks away from you. You’re unsure, but think he might be blinking back unshed tears.

You’re still pissed, but now your anger is mixed quite prettily with debilitating guilt. You’ve never seen Yoongi cry, and you realize with a sinking feeling that you really don’t want to. 

“It’s too fucking risky,” Jessi finally speaks. She presses her fingers against her forehead, massaging it slowly as she, too, looks for words. “The radio is almost fixed; I can feel that it’s close. Then we will have a clearer line of communication with the Commune. It doesn’t guarantee anything, obviously, but it’s better than going in without fucking knowing anything.” 

There’s nothing else to say. Yoongi doesn’t look at you or Jessi, instead staring at something in the opposite corner of the room.

Jessi gives you what you think is a smile laced with pity - or at least an apology. 

How can everyone be so content to stay in the warehouse? You’re a bunch of sitting ducks, hiding out in the same location for months, practically waiting for the government to send their agents to either corral you into laboratories again or exterminate you. You don’t understand how becoming a moving target is a bad thing. 

But, ultimately, you don’t understand why Yoongi can’t just trust you. 

With a frustrated huff, you twist around to hurry out of the kitchen. As you cross the threshold, Namjoon appears in the doorway. 

“Oh, I need to ask you-” 

You don’t mean to shove Namjoon with your shoulder as hard as you do, but you don’t have the patience to comply with whatever he expects you to do for him. Probably more sparring and training. 

On the one hand, sharing your identity as a water elemental with someone else in the group is an affirming experience. On the other, it’s infuriating because Namjoon sees your potential and pushes you toward it - even when you fight against him. 

Namjoon sputters something, and you hear Jessi convince him to drop it. Whatever else they have to say is lost on you; you’re no longer interested in entertaining the conversations of the “leaders” of the group. Part of you wants to find Hoseok or Jungkook to force them to commiserate with you, but something about dumping your sludge of emotions onto them feels wrong. 

So you do what you’ve always done best: you repress. 

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re lounging on your makeshift bed with the only tattered book you kept from your facility (Fahrenheit 451, how fitting), that you give yourself over to the gnawing need to interact with other humans. 

Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet, items that you can’t make out pressed against his chest. 

“Will you cut my hair for me, noona?” 

The out-of-use honorific flusters you, making your face burn under Jungkook’s attentive gaze. 

“You don’t have to be so formal with me,” you insist, embarrassment ravaging your twisted stomach and fluttering chest. Something about the attention Jungkook gives you makes you feel nervous and giddy. 

“It’s not very formal, really. It’s… respectful? I just… You are, it means,” Jungkook lets out a huff. He blows his bangs out of his face as his cheeks turn pink. “You are special to me.” 

You duck your head, shocked by Jungkook’s honesty. It warms you in a way you’re not sure you understand, letting the feeling sit inside your chest rather than exploring it any further. 

“Where I come from, we don’t have words like that.” 

Jungkook gives you a shrug. Neither of you mentions that in Korea, those words don’t really exist anymore, either. 

“But, okay,” you relent softly. 

Jungkook stands beside the mess of blankets that make up your bed, holding a pair of scissors and electric clippers Jessi enhanced to operate on their own. Jungkook nicked them from a Red Pin on their way out of the research facility he’d grown up in. Hairstyling tools didn’t seem high on your list of items to steal, but they’d come in handy. Like now, with Jungkook’s bangs falling entirely into his eyes and his hair sweeping across his shoulders. 

The pout Jungkook wears lessens slightly. He holds out the tools with an expectant look on his face. It’s cute how his bottom lip juts out, pink and chapped from nervously chewing on it. You’d overheard Namjoon scolding him for something earlier that morning before you went outside to patrol the grounds with Hoseok and Jessi.

Taking the items from Jungkook, you lead him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The lights sputter briefly before they fully brighten the small room. Jessi was excited to learn that her Gift extended to electricity as a whole, not just that within technology like computers and radios. With all your Gifts combined, the warehouse is liveable, almost comfortable. 

Jungkook sits on the closed lid of the toilet, making you tower over him. He parts his legs slightly so you can stand between them as you run your fingers through his hair. 

You spread your fingers and sweep his bangs up, exposing his forehead. It opens up his face more and makes him look older. Jungkook is handsome; there’s no denying that. You’re sure in another life, he could have been a regular college kid with a sweet girlfriend and a bright future. 

“What would you like me to do?” 

“Hmm?” Jungkook hums with his eyes closed, and his head tilted back slightly. 

You don’t miss how he leans into your touch, completely pliable in your hands, as you massage his scalp and continue to play with his hair. It’s thick and soft, even without the proper haircare products to maintain the health of the follicles. 

“How do you want me to cut it, silly?” 

You reach for the hairbrush you keep tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. It takes a few more moments of silence while you brush out Jungkook’s waves before he finally speaks. 

“Short. Cut it all off, please? It’s too hard to take care of now, and it gets in my face.” 

“Don’t get mad at me if it comes out bad.” 

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sound. “You always do a great job. You gave Yoongi hyung an undercut. It looks so good!” 

At the mention of Yoongi, you feel your heart drop. Somehow you know Jungkook is here to make you feel better even if he hasn’t said anything about the argument, and he’s the one seeking your help, not the other way around. He’s a distraction - one you wonder if Yoongi sent himself. 

It isn’t that Yoongi won’t apologize; you just never give him a chance to before you run off to lick your wounds on your own. 

It’s the healing quality of solitude, you think as you prepare to cut Jungkook’s hair. However, this time, you’re not alone. 

You can’t help but smile when Jungkook starts singing a song of his own creation as chunks of his hair fall to the floor. His song drowns out the static that buzzes in your brain like the fuzziness Jessi’s broken radio emits when anyone but her fiddles with it. 

“This way,” you speak softly, not wanting to disrupt his singing as you press your fingertips against his jaw and under his chin to lift his face toward you. Your finger presses against the little mole just below Jungkook’s bottom lip. The angle gives you a better view of your work so far. 

A small smile flickers on Jungkook’s face as though he’s trying to keep it down, but the corners of his mouth won’t listen to him. 

“It feels nice. We don’t touch.”

You hum and nod your head, but Jungkook’s eyes are still closed. It’s true; kind touches are rare. Hoseok is really the only one who gives out hugs. Everything is tough all the time. There’s little room for gentleness, even amongst friends. 

So you understand when Jungkook’s smile wins out, and he finally surrenders to the happiness your light touches along his jaw bring him. 

4 MONTHS, 5 DAYS

It takes Yoongi three days to apologize. 

Perhaps you should have apologized first, but you struggle to see how you could have done anything that warrants an apology. Yes, you feel bad for upsetting Yoongi, but his attitude toward you lately has rubbed you the wrong way. 

During the three days it takes him to apologize to you, he seems to do his best to avoid you. 

On the days you’re assigned to go on patrol with Yoongi, Jungkook accompanies you instead. You don’t mind having Jungkook by your side, you discover, even though you’re upset that Yoongi is behaving so childishly. 

Neither Jungkook nor Yoongi talks much, but you learn that their silence feels different. Whereas Yoongi’s silence stems from feeling confident and content with not needing to fill the air with incessant babbling, Jungkook’s silence is awkward and heavy. He fiddles with the loose strings of his shirt, his reddened cuticles, and everything else. You don’t mind the awkwardness, though. It’s nice to comb through the woods with someone as powerful as Jungkook; you know there’s nothing to fear with him around. 

The only weapon Jungkook carries is the knife strapped to his thigh. You, on the other hand, stay heavily armed. Your fingers tighten around your bow. When you twist your torso, the harness that holds your arrows digs into your shoulder. You also have a knife, though you are honestly afraid of close combat. A gun would be even better, but ammo is difficult to come by. It’s easier to collect your arrows after you’ve shot them, although you haven’t needed to yet. Since finding refuge at the warehouse, no one has discovered your group. 

Apparently, all your friends are willing to keep testing fate. You aren’t interested in pushing your luck. Jungkook doesn’t comment on the group’s plans for moving forward - or lack thereof. Something tells you that he’ll do whatever Yoongi and Jessi tell him to do. 

Still, going on patrol with Jungkook does a decent job of preventing your thoughts from straying toward your argument with Yoongi. Your hands brushed together a few times as you walked side by side, and you could practically feel Jungkook’s brain shortcircuit from the contact. 

Part of you thinks he has a crush on you, but the more logical part of you knows he’s probably shy. The kid has gone through a lot in life. Not everything is always about you; you try to remind yourself. Yoongi doesn’t even want you. Why would Jungkook?

On the third day, bright doe eyes don’t greet you at the edge of the woods, just as the sun is kissing the sky for the first time. Instead, sharp cat eyes hold your gaze when you lightly jog over. 

“Good morning, kiddo.” 

Yoongi wears dark shorts with tattered edges cut from a pair of old jeans and a plain t-shirt the color of the forest in spring. It’s not warm enough to wear what he’s wearing, but fire elementals run hot like you run cold. 

“Hi,” you say, voice a bit stunted as you hold your jacket tighter to your body. 

You’ve foregone your bow and arrows today; you may or may not have snapped your bow in a fit of frustration that may or may not have anything to do with Yoongi ignoring you at dinner the night before. A knife and your Gift will have to do, but you feel it is enough. Namjoon insists on learning how to use your Gifts and weapons in tandem. For double the defense, or so he says. 

Carrying a knife seems ridiculous when you know how to choke someone with their own spit without touching them. 

Once you’re within arm’s reach, Yoongi offers his hand to you. He holds it as though he’s going in for a handshake. Yellow-orange fire licks at his palm and swirls in tendrils around his fingers and wrist. 

After a few seconds of silence, he makes a slight grunting sound and wiggles his fingers, beckoning you. 

It’s impossible not to cave. A prickly feeling tingles down your arm, beginning somewhere in your chest and eventually settling in your fingertips. A tiny hurricane of water stolen from the moisture in the air circles around your hand just as the fire does Yoongi’s. 

He lets out a pleased sound when your palms glide across each other. You hook your thumbs together, using the momentum to spin your hands around until your fingers are interlaced and pressed into your palms. You both squeeze your hands once, twice, three times in a heartbeat before pulling away. By the end, the fire and water have disappeared. 

When you meet Yoongi’s eyes, the warmth of the fire in his palm has transferred to his gaze. There is an apology in how you release each other’s hands. The handshake holds secret words of friendship and reassurance between you. 

The two of you stand in silence for a bit until Yoongi tilts his head in the direction of the woods. You nod in response and follow Yoongi along one of the many patrol paths your group has established. 

There’s never anything in the woods besides small animals like squirrels and rabbits, but everyone feels better knowing there is a consistent patrol of the area, just in case. 

“So,” When you look at Yoongi, his lips twist into a light smirk you absolutely do not like. “You and Jungkook.” 

“Me and Jungkook what?” 

Yoongi shrugs. “Just seems like you two been hanging out a lot.” 

“Yeah, because you were fucking ignoring me all week.” 

His smirk drops into a stern frown, but Yoongi continues following the path. He walks slightly ahead of you with his hands clasped behind his back. It feels like he’s taking a leisurely stroll through a garden rather than going on patrol in the woods for government assassins. 

“It was immature and irresponsible of me, and I’m sorry for that.” 

Forgiving Yoongi is too easy. It’s the way the morning sun shines through the canopy of trees above you, casting streaks of light against his fading pink hair. The way he carries himself with confidence is gentle and comforting rather than arrogant or misplaced. It’s how he looks at you; you know he would do anything for you.

“It’s okay,” you finally concede. You scramble a bit to fall in line with Yoongi again. “I was being dramatic.” 

“Life is one big drama, isn’t it?” Yoongi muses with a chuckle. It’s a question he doesn’t expect an answer to, which is good, considering you’ve got something else buzzing around in your head. 

Well, fuck it. You’re just gonna say it.  

Heart pounding, you eventually find it in you to say, “I still think you’re wrong.” 

After a moment, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment of your admission but doesn’t offer anything else. It’s better than nothing, so you tell yourself to be content with all that he offers. 

“Anyway…” You don’t want to drop the subject, but Yoongi’s question is nagging in the back of your brain now - a nagging question you now have a gnawing desire to know the meaning behind. “Me and Jungkook can hang out without it meaning-” 

Before you can finish your statement, Yoongi slaps his hand against your mouth. The calluses on his palms are rough against your chapped lips, and his skin is sweaty. His free arm comes around to the front of your chest near your collarbones. He draws you against his chest so tightly you can’t move. 

“Don’t talk.” His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is almost indiscernible. 

You give a tiny nod before locking your body completely still. You hold your breath, straining to hear what Yoongi might hear or see what he might see. There’s nothing, just the usual sound of life in the woods - birds chirping, small animals scurrying in the brush. You don’t see anything either. 

You can only focus on the frantic pounding of your heart and the calm beat of Yoongi’s against your back. How he can be so relaxed when he thinks there might be danger in the woods that you can’t even see is unreal.

Slowly, Yoongi takes a step back away from you. He holds a finger to his lips and silently mouths for you to stay where you are. Everything inside you screams to disobey as you watch Yoongi disappear further into the woods, the thick trees swallowing him whole. 

But you don’t. You stay put, fear rooting you to the ground even though your body desperately wants to follow. 

What lies beyond the thicket of trees? What is dangerous enough that Yoongi wants you to stay put but not so dangerous that he believes he can take it on alone? 

Just when your resolve is about to crumble, something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. Barely breathing, you turn your head to watch a dark spot glide across the forest floor. It’s two-dimensional, not an object but a presence creeping along the ground.

Suddenly, the spot grows. It spreads, turning its shape from a flat, uneven circle to a thing with tendrils sticking out of it, each new tendril moving independently. You gasp when one of the tendrils creeps up your leg. Despite being two-dimensional, you can feel the darkness. It’s firm and cold, like a snake slithering up your body. 

Every inch of you trembles as the strange darkness slowly spreads across your body. You squeeze your eyes and hold your breath. Perhaps this is the thing that Yoongi saw, a phantom stalking the trees. But now you’re left behind to be absorbed into its darkness, eaten alive. 

You’re startled when the cold disappears; instead, strong arms pull you against a firm chest. Warmth envelopes you, and when you open your eyes, you see familiar ones looking back at you.

“I got you,” Jungkook murmurs. He has you tucked under his chin, and he tilts his head down when he speaks to you. You shiver as his lips lightly brush against your forehead. 

“Where did you-”  

“Shhh.” 

Jungkook’s heart isn’t steady like Yoongi’s had been. On the contrary, it’s beating rather furiously. You can hear him attempting to regulate his emotions, taking in mindful breaths and exhaling in a way that tickles your skin.

You don’t know how long you stand there pulled against Jungkook’s chest. After a while, your breathing matches his until you fall into a gentle rhythm that makes you sleepy. The adrenaline is making you crash, your body hardly strong enough to hold yourself up after panicking so severely - still panicking. Luckily, when you lean into Jungkook, his hold on you tightens. 

In another situation, pressing your fronts together would have flooded your body with heat. You can feel all of Jungkook like this, from the bulging muscles of his chest to his thigh pressed slightly between your legs from how he holds you up. But fear of the unknown and Jungkook’s clearly distressed state prevent those other thoughts from materializing. 

Jungkook’s body doesn’t relax until Yoongi appears around the corner of a large tree. He keeps his arms wrapped around you, and for a second, Yoongi looks around at the clearing you're in as though he can’t see you. 

It isn’t until Jungkook lets go of you that recognition flashes in Yoongi’s eyes. 

“There you are,” Yoongi murmurs to the two of you. He looks like he rolled around on the ground, little pieces of leaves and sticks caught in his hair and stuck to his clothes. His left knee is bleeding from a few superficial scrapes. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” 

Yoongi looks at Jungkook before he answers your question, which irritates you. “I tripped when I rushed in, but it was nothing. Just a large fox I heard making noise back there.” 

A fox is likely the largest animal in the woods, with no bears or wolves in the area. Still, you don’t trust Yoongi. You can pick up on the charred smell coming off of him. He smells like a barbecue, which means only one thing… 

“Have you been practicing turning yourself invisible?” 

Jungkook ducks his head down but no longer has long bangs to hide his face. It takes a second for your brain to process Yoongi’s question - and the change in the topic - but Jungkook is already answering him by the time you figure it out. 

“It’s not really invisibility,” he says softly. “It’s more like… an illusion.”

Yoongi hums and motions for the two of you to start walking. You’re returning to the warehouse, you realize, even though you only just started the patrol route. 

“Yeah, I can… adjust the lighting, I guess? To make it seem like you can’t see me. Or, us, this time.” 

Jungkook gives you a small smile when you whip around to look at him.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook repeats. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and wiggles it like he has more to say but doesn’t want to let it out just yet. 

The three of you walk in silence until you reach the warehouse. When Yoongi walks ahead of you, you can tell he’s limping, even as he does his best to walk normally. 

“He’s okay.” 

Jungkook stands beside you in the field behind the warehouse, watching Yoongi reach the backdoor. 

“He’s bleeding.” 

Jungkook’s ears are pink when he responds, “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s lying to us.” 

Jungkook absentmindedly runs his fingers along his bottom lip. It droops as he speaks through a pout. “Maybe. But I trust him, even if he is.” 

It’s a strange thing to trust someone who is lying. 

All you can do is nod. All you can do is accept that the people around you are doing what’s right because, aside from them, there is no one and nothing you can trust in the world. 

As you approach the warehouse, Jungkook curls his fingers around your wrist to stop you. He watches you with the same wide-eyed look he gives everyone, though something about this time feels different. His expression is more open and vulnerable. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to hurt him. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologizes softly. 

“But you didn’t?” 

Your eyebrows crease your forehead, trying to recall what you may have done to make Jungkook feel like you feared him. Sure, his sudden appearance in the woods was startling, but he’d brought you a feeling of comfort and safety - not fear. 

Jungkook doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets go of your wrist as shame warms his cheeks, but he doesn’t look away from you. The timidness is still there. You can see it in how he chews on his bottom lip. Still, his eyes take on a more guarded, hardened expression for a split second, and then… 

He’s gone. 

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself. 

Now that you’ve seen the darkness before, your eyes quickly notice the spot on the ground that creeps and grows into odd shapes, slinking along the grass before taking form up your legs, curling around your arms. 

It’s Jungkook. You knew it in the woods, somewhere deep down. Your fear for Yoongi’s safety - and your own - prevented you from processing the situation. But now, as the darkness envelopes you again, you know what to expect when you close your eyes and open them to see Jungkook’s broad chest as he crushes you against him. 

“You never showed me before.” 

Maybe it’s weird that you’re still clinging to each other, but Jungkook is warm and solid, and his heartbeat guides yours into a slower rhythm. 

“That’s because it’s creepy.” 

“Well, I think it’s cool. Even though, yeah, you kinda scared the shit outta me.” 

Jungkook lets out an embarrassed whine and squeezes you tighter. You knew he could command shadows but hadn’t realized he could become one or move within them. Sure, the tornado trick he’d done a few times with Hoseok had been cool, but you’d always thought he was merely swirling the darkness around himself. You hadn’t realized he was the darkness. 

Honestly, it made him all the more terrifying and equally as endearing. 

“I just had this… feeling something bad was happening…” Jungkook whispers into your hair. “I needed to check.”

“Good thing it was only a fox.”

Jungkook nods in agreement; you know he believes it more than you do. 

“I’m just happy you’re safe.” You can feel his cheek press against the top of your head for a moment before he finally releases you. 

There’s a feeling there as Jungkook leads you to the warehouse. He laces his fingers with yours, and you can’t help but hear Yoongi’s question on a loop in your head. 

You and Jungkook? 

4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS

“What if they think we’re the feds and feed us false information?” 

“We’re too stupid to be the feds. It would be obvious.”

“I don’t know… we all escaped the government, so they must be pretty stupid.” 

“What if they’re the feds?” 

“Shit, I never thought about that.”

“They’re not the fucking feds.” 

“How do you know that?!” 

“Can all of you please just shut the fuck up?” 

The six of you crowd around the radio on the kitchen table. Jessi shows you how to operate it, which flip to switch to activate the microphone, and how to adjust the volume. You’re all muted for now. When Hoseok goes to flip the switch, Jessi smacks his hand out of the way. 

“Listen to me,” she says sternly, turning in her seat to get a good look at all of you. “No one talks.” 

“But-” 

“No one talks.” 

Five heads nod at her command, including Yoongi, which feels very satisfying to you for some reason. 

Details of the Gifted Commune somewhere beyond the woods traveled by word of mouth. Coordinates and radio frequencies were exchanged in hushed tones between the Gifteds who dared dream of a life beyond the Labs. You’re sad to admit that you were never one of those Gifteds. It wasn’t until Yoongi helped you escape that you even realized escaping was an option, so brainwashed into thinking the Labs were all you had. You were in a new country, stumbling through an unfamiliar language, taken from your family. Sure, you’d learned enough to get by over time - but missing your adolescent years made you feel hopeless. 

Jessi is the only one who had communicated with the Commune leaders in the past when she and another Gifted managed to break into a control room in the Labs she came from. 

That’s why she’s the one to speak into the radio that you find operates much like a long-distance walkie-talkie. You’re glad it’s not you. She introduces herself, her whereabouts, and her credentials with an even voice you know you could never replicate. 

Despite the distrust you’re all afraid of, Jessi’s previous connection to the Commune makes it easy for her to request to speak to the Commune leader, a healer named Kim Taehyung. 

Sitting with your fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly your knuckles are beginning to ache, you lean forward as though you can get closer to the gentle voice that floats from the radio’s speakers. 

Taehyung doesn’t sound anything like you’d imagined, though you aren’t sure what you were expecting, to be honest. Maybe someone with a rougher voice made harsh by the trials of life as a fugitive of the Republic. Instead, he’s soft as he asks Jessi how many there are of you and what your coordinates are. This man, already larger than life even though none of you knows what he looks like, is patient as he gives Jessi instructions on how to reach the Commune. 

“I can assure you,” Taehyung speaks, and you don’t know what he’s about to say, but you find yourself already believing him, “You will be safe here. It won’t be a short trip.” That makes your gut twist, but you focus on his following words. “But there are abandoned shelters along the route to find refuge in. The nights get terribly cold.” 

Namjoon scribbles some notes down on a worn piece of paper. It’s been written on and erased to add more notes over the months you’ve been at the warehouse since there are only a few pieces of paper between the six of you. There’s a small hole in the middle of the page where someone erased too hard - or too many times, you suppose. 

“Thank you, Taehyung-ssi.” 

The line is quiet for a moment. Jessi’s gaze shoots up to glare at Jungkook’s interruption, but Taehyung speaks before she can chastise the younger man. 

“Anything for my dongsaeng,” the man on the other side of the radio states. 

You don’t know him, so there is no way to tell if the subtle lilt to his voice indicates affection, but it seems like it as the two men use polite terms no one ever uses anymore. It’s old-fashioned and reminiscent of a time lost to all of you. 

Jessi steers the conversation back to planning the group’s journey to the Commune. Excitement makes you jittery as you skip out of the kitchen, the men - aside from Yoongi - following after you. The boring stuff is what follows, and you’re all content to let the leaders discuss that stuff. 

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” Hoseok clasps his hands together, occasionally squeezing them. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on the closed kitchen door. 

Namjoon shrugs at the same time you respond, “We have to.” 

PART ONE - PART TWO

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #a spring offering collab #wtfgu

[stayteezdreams]

Finding out they are supernatural creatures {ot8!Ateez}

Scenario: Hurt to comfort when reader finds out their bf!ateez is some kind of mythical or supernatural creature

Pairings: Supernatural Creature!Ateez x Gn!Reader

Requested By: @otakutrash669

Warnings: Vague mentions of blood (Seonghwa's). Mention of drunk driving (Yunhos). Near-death's in Yunhos and Jonghos. Suggestive/Sexual references (Wooyoungs).

A/n: Not all of this will be accurate, I made some shit up. Also, I only read through it once so sorry if there are any errors.

Words: ~2.6k

-Stray Kids Version-

Seonghwa {Vampire}

As careful as Seonghwa was, you noticed too many peculiar things to not become suspicious.

The peculiar red liquid you were not allowed to touch that he regarded as a disgusting medicine he took. Medicine for a disease that apparently made him so sensitive to sunlight he had to wear a special sunscreen.

Then there was the fact that sometimes his teeth seemed sharper than other times, as if they changed.

Naturally your mind wandered to the thought of him being a vampire. Ultimately you thought it was ridiculous, and let it go.

But one day, you couldn't keep it to yourself.

He once again made sure you did not accidentally drink the red liquid, and you joked "I'm starting to think you're a vampire and it's you're blood stash."

It was a joke. Until you saw the fear that crossed his face. When he realized you were joking he quickly reacted with a fake laugh and you became more than suspicious.

"Seonghwa. Is it blood?" "...No of course not." "Seonghwa."

When he noticed your suspicion turning into fear, he had to tell you. He was of course afraid you were going to run, the scream, to call the police.

But you waited for him to explain everything, and to prove it. That was the most important part.

Once he proved it, you were in shock, but almost amazed. You couldn't help but ask question after question.

When you promised you weren't going to tell anyone he was more relieved. But he still feared you would be afraid of him.

He gave you a long speech bout how he will never hurt you, how he has control, and will protect you. You knew he meant it. And honestly, you never feared him, not even for a second.

Hongjoong {Demon}

You found out Hongjoong was a demon when you accidentally summoned him.

He had a bunch of old books he said were collectors items, and things he collected when studying Latin and various religious studies.

One day, when he left you alone to go deal with something, you flipped through the books.

You came across a passage you couldn't really figure out, but what you did recognize, was Hongjoongs name, written within the script.

Curious, you recited the passage out loud, and when the room suddenly grew cold, you turned around to see a black mass forming. You grew terrified as you fled to the corner of the room.

When the black smoke faded, revealing your confused boyfriend, you stared at each other in silence.

His eyes flicked to the table where he saw the passage and his heart dropped.

He knew he would tell you one day about what he really was, but he kept putting it off, for fear you would leave him.

But now, as you were cowering in the corner in confusion and fear, he had no choice.

"Hongjoong, what-" He lifted his hands and spoke slowly as he walked towards you. "I can explain."

"Demon." "Yes." "You're a Demon." "Yes."

Hongjoongs heart dropped when you left in near silence, muttering about how you just needed some time alone to think. But he understood, letting you leave, though the sight tore him apart.

If Hongjoong were to tell you he was a demon on any other day you would have thought he was joking or had gone crazy. But since you had literally summoned him in front of your very own eyes, you couldn't deny it.

Nor could you deny the way his eyes were fully black, or the horns that were on his head before he changed back into his normal appearance right in front of you.

You knew he didn't want to scare you but you were scared. It took you a while to figure out that you weren't afraid of him necessarily. He was Hongjoong, and he loved you.

But you were afraid of the knowledge that came with this, that there could be more secrets, more lies.

So you confronted him. And he was more than glad to open up fully now that you knew. He would do anything for you and tell you anything you wanted to know, as long as you stayed.

Yunho {Nephilim}

You knew Yunho had mixed feeling about when you called him your 'Angel'

The first time he seemed flustered and almost recoiled. But he slowly warmed up to it, even saying he was your Guardian Angel, or your "Personal Angel".

Sometimes when you used the pet-name he seemed to withdrawal in himself for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. But instead he would just smile and press a kiss to your forehead.

Then one day, you almost died. You should have died.

You were seconds away from the drunk driver hitting you as you walked down the street, then before you knew it, you were in Yunho's arms, and surrounding you, were large wings, growing out from his back.

Then you learned everything. Why the pet-name threw him of, why he sometimes seemed like he wanted to say something but changed his mind. Why he dubbed himself your personal Angel.

He shouldn't exist. His mother was human, and his father a fallen angel. He was half of each.

Yunho was forced to hide what he was for his whole life and it wasn't until he met you that he thought he didn't have to hide anymore. But the fear still stopped him from telling you.

He liked the idea of being your personal Guardian Angel, but was still afraid you would not want him to be if you learned what he truly was

But it didn't change how you felt. Though you were hurt he had not told you sooner, you quickly realized his choices and reasoning were more important.

You forgave him, and swore to him you would keep his secret.

You bond only got stronger after you leaned what he was, and he no longer hid it from you. Sometimes you would even find him walking around the house with his wings out.

You adored them, and him, and he adored you.

He was your personal guardian Angel, and you were the love of his life.

Yeosang {Fairy}

You knew Yeosang was hiding something, and when you confronted him, his saying he was a Fairy was the last thing you expected.

You expected that he wanted to break up, or that he had fallen for someone else, something that would explain his recent behavior and all the secrets he was keeping.

But the excuse he gave you only hurt you more. It was such a ridiculous lie, the truth would have hurt less.

"What do you take me for? If you want to break up with me, just do it Yeosang." You stormed off leaving Yeosang to scramble after you.

He didn't realize just how ridiculous it would sound. Of course you wouldn't believe him.

When he got you alone again, after much convincing and a bit of begging on his side. He showed you it was not a lie.

He thought it would be something he would have to hide forever out of fear. Of course you would figure out something was off.

But the idea that you thought he wanted to leave you, that you thought it was another person stealing him away from you and not this. That was not worth it.

So he showed you his wings and his magic, he proved he was a fairy. And to say you were shocked was an understatement.

When you finally came out of your stupor, and you realized you were in fact not going crazy, you were amazed.

You couldn't even really be mad that he hid it, of course he would, he was a fairy. He needed to know he could trust you with his secret.

And he assured you that he did, that it was just his fear stopping him.

He was sorry. Sorry that he did not trust you enough, when you deserved more. He hated that you were tormenting yourself with 'What If's', and reasons he was hiding secrets.

But once you reassured him that you understood and forgave him, he made sure you knew everything. And he promised to never keep anything from you again.

San {Shapeshifter}

You figured out San was a shape-shifter with deductive reasoning.

One day, a beautiful black cat showed up at your house, sheltering itself from the rain.

You let it in, dried him off, and let him go.

He became a common visitor to your house after that.

And then one day, instead of a black cat, you met a man named San. He told you the cat was his and he found out where he was going when he would get out.

You bonded with San, and eventually started dating.

But, you never saw the cat and San at the same time.

And you couldn't help but think they had the same eyes, and the same mannerisms.

You thought you were crazy, but you couldn't shake the gut feeling that you were right.

And when San slipped and mentioned something he wouldn't know about, something that happened when he was not present, but his cat was, you put it together.

The next time the cat visited you, you were sitting on your porch.

You sighed, heart pounding, stared deep into his eyes and spoke.

"Hello San."

The cat seemed to freeze, before slowly he grew bigger, before San was standing in front of you, eyes full of surprise as you stared at him.

"I was right." You muttered breathlessly, and he slowly approached you. "How long have you known?"

"I think I knew from the beginning in a way. But I wasn't certain until recently."

"Aren't you afraid?" "Should I be?"

He shook his head softly "I'd ever hurt you." "I know that San. But why didn't you tell me sooner?"

You could tell he was apprehensive. Perhaps he thought you would be afraid, maybe you'd tell someone who could hurt him.

"I wouldn't hurt you either." You admitted softly.

He would take your face in his hands. "I know that. I'm sorry, I should have told you, I just... No one knows, and the idea of someone, anyone knowing, I don't know I guess I was scared."

Your relationship grew stronger after this as he learned to put all of his trust in you, and you learned to do the same.

Mingi {Werewolf}

When you learned what Mingi was, you were in shock. You left, and ended up avoided him.

You needed to gather your thoughts and get over the shock before figuring out what to do.

He waited impatiently to hear from you again, even going to your house to check on you, though never telling you he was there.

Mingi wanted nothing more than to talk to you, to see you, to hold you, but he resisted, making sure to give you the time you needed to adjust.

All he could do was hope and pray you would come back to him.

He was so afraid to tell you what he was for fear of you leaving or being afraid, but he would fight as hard as he could to keep you.

Mingi would never harm you, our put you in harms way.

When he first fell for you, he tried his hardest to ignore the feelings, being to afraid to fall in love. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not ignore the feelings.

He told you all of this after admitting what he was, but you still left, uncertain of what to do and what to think.

You knew you loved him, and after a week of not seeing him after learning he was a werewolf, you realized your feelings would not change. All you did was miss him more every day.

When you finally gave in and went to go see him again, he scooped you up in his arms out of relief and joy.

He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms again.

And when he was holding you, you knew it didn't matter what he was, or what he hid from you, you would love him all the same.

Wooyoung {Demon/Incubus}

Wooyoung drunkenly told you he was the descendant of an Incubus demon one night, and you simply thought it was a weird joke at first.

But when he was sober, you noticed he watched you wearily, as if trying to figure out if he really told you, and to see if you had believed him.

You started to wonder if maybe it wasn't a joke after all. So you started to pay more attention, and you did some research.

It all seemed so unbelievable, but some things started to add up.

The way he seemed to pull things off that were impossible, how he could get to you faster than he should be able to. How he always seemed to know when you needed him. Not to mention his heightened sexual drive.

A short time after that night passed, and Wooyoung seemed to relax around you again, you asked him straight up if what he said was true.

He was obviously startled, stumbling and stuttering over his words as he tried to lie to you.

If it wasn't true he would have laughed and been able to play it off, but you knew he had a hard time lying to you, so it became obvious that it was true, or at least some of it.

"Wooyoung." He could hear in your tone that there was no point in trying to lie so he gave in.

He confessed everything, and even proved it to you.

You were in shock, but not as much as you thought you would be, to both of your surprise.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He shrugged "I didn't want you to be afraid of me."

"I would never be afraid of you Wooyoung."

He was relieved, and became emotional and apologetic, swearing he would never hide anything from you again.

Jongho {Demi-God}

You weren't supposed to know what Jongho was at least not yet.

But when you were put in danger from someone looking for Jongho, he had to protect you no matter what.

You knew he was strong, but when he was able to knock over a wall with one punch, you knew there was more to it.

You watched him fight with powers you had not expected while protecting you from the mysterious man who showed up and threatened to hurt you.

You were in the middle of something you didn't know how to explain, but you knew Jongho was protecting you, and would do with with his life if needed.

Luckily you both made it out, and he took you somewhere safe.

He explained to you what he was, who he was the descendant of, and why he could do the things he could.

You were amazed, and shocked, and confused. Any resentment you held towards Jongho for keeping this secret from you faded when you saw how nervous he was, obviously afraid of how you would react.

He answered every question you asked, and patiently waited as you thought over everything.

When you approached him after a few hours and he apprehensively watched you, you wrapped your arms around him and he melted, relaxing in relief at your touch.

He swore he would protect you, and keep you safe, and you believed him.

Even if you were put in danger as your life seemed to change, you would not leave his side.

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about some of thee, but it is what it is lol

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @thunderous-wolf

Jongho Taglist: @lieutenantn

#ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #ateez imagine #ot8!ateez x reader #park seonghwa x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #jeong yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #song mingi x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader #13 days of halloween #seonghwa imagine #hongjoong imagine #yunho imagine #yeosang imagine #san imagine #mingi imagine #wooyoung imagine #jongho imagine #ateez fanfic #stayteezdreams

[happyhauntt]

𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖘!

sentence prompts from the webseries 'carmilla'.

• "what makes them any different than i am?" "what makes any person sacred to another?"

• "they aren't mine. you are. to annoy, or not. to love, or not. to save, or not."

• "a certain amount of murder just comes with the territory."

• "do you miss me?" "like someone cut a hole in me."

• "you think i hid you here after everything because i don't care? because the thought of something happening to you doesn't make me feel like i can't breathe?"

• "maybe the world is about to end, but if it is, i want us to have something good to hold on to."

• "i mean, the story goes: you fall in love with a monster and then they stop being all monster-y! the story isn't just... fall in love with a monster. that would be a stupid story."

• "behold! vampire bait."

• "i know krav maga. i am a weapon."

• "is it some kind of terrifying chicken demon?"

• "i know you're not just doing it for me, but..." "don't be an idiot. of course i'm doing it for you."

• "i don't want to pretend that what i feel about you is some stupid, frothy thing that doesn't matter, because it is like the axis that my world turns on."

• "you did something terrible to her, didn't you?" "define terrible."

• "don't you look like a virgin sacrifice."

• "you kiss me and it cracks me open and all of my stupid, messy hopes come tumbling out in maybes and somedays and how is that fair?"

• "well, sorry my post-traumatic revelation was inconveniently timed for you."

• "have you ever considered that maybe 'hero' isn’t one thing that one person was supposed to be by themselves? that maybe, in this story, you are my hero and i'm your hero."

• "MURDER HER FOR CHRISTMAS!"

• "i don’t want that to be our story. okay? our story is that we made each other better. so we go together."

• "i love you so much. i'm sorry it took me so long to say it."

• "we've had kisses and cocoa and stars and dancing. that's so much more than nothing."

• "dream on, creampuff."

• "i wouldn't want to be doomed with anyone but you."

• "don't take this the wrong way or anything but why am i not dead?"

• "even if the whole world burns, i won't lose you."

• "worst. crush. ever."

• "i don't want you watching me die."

• "this isn't, like, 'yesterday dead' or 'three weeks ago dead.' this is like 'predates opposible thumbs' dead."

• "i think i'd like to be dead now."

• "how sweet. doomed, clearly, but still very sweet."

• "pg13, how incredibly dull."

• "you were sleeping at the desk and doing adorable twitchy things that i can only imagine involves sleep-murdering a ball of yarn."

• "they were going to kill them, i get it, you saved them. but you can bring them back now. they're safe now. god! bring them back! JUST BRING THEM BACK TO ME PLEASE!"

• "you must think i'm ridiculous, what, with your sex, blood and rock'n'roll attitude."

• "could we pretend, just for tonight, that if i asked we'd run away?"

• "my feelings are not squishy."

• "comrades working shoulder to shoulder. with no desperate kissing or lusty sexual undertones. no awkwardness. just good, old fashioned platonic buddies."

• "did you pick a fight with a god?!"

• "those are bloody footprints! we do not run in the direction of bloody footprints!"

• "all I know is that in more than a century, you’re the only person I ever found worth saving. you and no one else."

• "you're in this mess because i am anything but a hero."

• "okay maybe let’s not throw ourselves at the centuries old, supernatural murder machine."

#carmilla is DEEPLY underrated and this is part of my campaign to convince more people to watch it #fluff prompts #otp prompts #creative writer #writing prompts #writeblr #romance prompts #angst prompts #dialogue prompts #* type: prompts.

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

Gotham being a fuck up City once more

Gotham is a City with a lot of problems, Jason Todd knows it very well. And this is not about the pollution, corruption or the villains but the city itself is like that. The City is vile, dirty and knows how to make your old wounds bleed.

And sometimes Jason really hates Gotham because of this, the City plays with everyone and anyone. Oracle sent some messages to everyone, saying something about weird supernatural shit happens and everyone should be careful that night while Batman is working... Well Jason don't care.

Jason Todd is having a shit week and he is fucking tired! He just wants to go home and sleep - and maybe some beer and shower. Be the whatever shit is batman doing now it's definitely not his problem.

And Jason actually did it! He manages to avoid his siblings the whole way to the safe house. but before entering he sees a woman sitting against the door, his whole body freezes and he regrets not having paid attention to the warning because Jason knows that woman. And she definitely doesn't should be there.

"Jason" the woman got up and smiled at him, "look at you... You become so tall"

Jason's first instinct is run, but his body doesn't move, he barely can think

"look at your hands" Catharine keeps smiling and holds her son's hands, there's so much sweetie in her voice "I remember when you were a baby, your hands were so tiny, both of your hands fit in one of mine... look at you now... this time I'm the one who has to use two hands to hold one of yours"

Jason doesn't want to believe in it! She was dead! He knows it! She died years ago... But...but...

Catherine lets go of Jason's hand when she notices that her son is silent

"I understand, you must be angry with me... I'm sorry..." she starts to walk away, after all, what kind of mother was she?

That was enough for Jason to panic, whatever that was in front of him, he wasn't going to let it go that easily. He didn't understand why his parents always abandoned him, but whatever it was, he wanted to keep her there a little more

"I... I... I hurt people, mom..I hurt so many people" Jason doesn't know what makes him say that, at all the things he should say he chose. Why can't he do nothing right?

Catherine looks for her son again, She brings her hand to his face, wiping away the soft tears that have started to fall.

When did Jason start crying?

"You were trying to protect someone, weren't you? I know who you are Jason, you are my son, I raised you... you must have become such a smart man, do you still like books? I remember you loved going to the public library to read, it was a free trip so we walked there every weekend"

Jason hates it. Why Gotham keep tutoring him like that? Why Gotham keep doing this?

and the rest of the night the boy and his mom are just talking with each other in the same way they did before the drugs... She asked about the books he was reading at that time, his friends, if he had someone in his life...

They talked for hours but not enough... And then she disappears before the sun rises followed by the Oracle message "situation over control now, everything will be normal for now on"

And Jason starts sobbing on the floor again. He definitely hates how Gotham plays with everyone

#catherine todd #jason todd #dc comics #batfamily #dc comics fanfic #this come to me as a vision sorry if this is not good

[gilbirda]

what are your thoughts on watcher’s new announcement?

So.

I've been watching the Boys since they started back in 2016 (i think around that era), and honestly I'm very conflicted about the decision. I've read so much stuff in favor and against the announcement and I don't know if my answer will satisfy you.

I have managed a community and I have the blessing and curse of being somewhat of a Name, experiencing the ordeal of being Known, and I can tell you that 1)you can never please everyone 2)people will always rush to crush you the second you do something they don't agree with 3)people will always twist everything you do with the worst faith in mind and 4)fandom forget very quickly that at the end of the day you are just human.

I think they made a calculated risk based on a purely economical viewpoint. I think they considered their loyal fanbase and how willing people have been so far with spending extra cash to support them — The live shows, the exclusive streams (like the Valentine's Too Many Spirits) and Patreon. How much of their fanbase was the "broke students" tumblr claim they are and how much was people with spending money willing to pay extra for them.

I also think that the decision seem stupid if you look at it from the perspective of "why the hell would I pay $6 to watch such little variety of content?" and that's a Correct Assumption, but Observe — they have been very slowly pulling everyone that made Buzzfeed famous and enrolling them in. Very recently they gathered the Worth It boys, the second show that kind of carried Buzzfeed back in the day (apart from the Try Guys). I think they can't talk about it right now, but the goal is to relaunch Buzzfeed but without ads and without making it the soulless content machine it became. I think their dream and goal has always been making what Buzzfeed could have been with better management, kind of like "If I was the Management in this company, things would have been better" dream fulfillment. That's why they made the direct jump to a streaming service instead of the logical steps of Patreon-exclusive content or even jumping to Nebula like other youtubers. It was never meant to stay one single channel, it was supposed to be bigger.

Is the projection of making a "better Buzzfeed" worth risking this step? Time will tell. I don't know. I personally never cared about anyone except Buzzfeed Unsolved. I still watch Unsolved on repeat. Is my comfort show. Maybe they are overestimating how much people care about other shows not hosted by them.

Although they did hint that "we want shows not hosted by us". This tells me that they are settling down, they want to ramp down a little bit, do the hook with Ghost Files aka Unsolved Supernatural Lite for the streaming service, and once people are hooked, launch more shows by the old-school Buzzfeed people. Won't be as big as a show hosted by Shane and Ryan, but it will still make people feel like they are getting their money's worth.

I would forgive all of this if only they didn't use the excuse of "if we want to do Netflix-level productions we need money". I'm sorry but that means nothing to me. We loved them when it was a powerpoint slide show with 2 idiots in a set. We didn't fall in love with the toys or the trips or the high tech. We didn't fall in love with the fancy animations at the beginning of Ghost Files episodes that they are so proud of. That was all their idea.

I've seen this trend of content creators ramping up their creations to an unsustainable point, completely crash and burn and then having to apologize about having to step back. Then making it the moral trap of an argument that they have been doing their best to bring quality content to their audience, and of course making it impossible to argue against. If you speak up and say "well we never asked you to break your back" then you are ungrateful audience. That's exactly what's going on in here with the Watcher announcement — "true fans" criticizing people who point out the fact that they created this money problem on their own. Is not the fanbase responsibility to cater to a company's bad money decisions. Is not our fault that they decide to scale up their operation to a point they "haven't been making a profit for 2 years". It's unfair that the fans are at each other's throats for daring stepping back and saying "I don't want to be part of this".

I don't think Watcher Entertainment is actively wanting to collapse their fandom like this. I don't think this was a calculated move. But I do think that they are a group of adults trying to make a career of something they enjoy doing. I think they made this move with the perspective that fandom is not end all and they can always rebuild it.

— And that they are planning on making a machine that can work without them, and that requires breaking something in the fans, it requires kicking themselves out of the pedestal fans have put them on. They know they won't be allowed to have a normal life until people stop looking at them waiting for them to say their phrase.

In conclusion I think they made a choice that made sense if they are planning on separating Watcher Entertainment from "The Ghoul Boys" fame, and it makes sense if they are aiming at something bigger than what they've been doing now. Money of course is the goal and the reason presented, but there's a lot that they are not saying and we will not know until it happens.

Until then, it does feel like they have just shot their careers in the foot.

Also I'm salty that I can't join the service because I'm outside the US.

#gil answers #miki-meh #watcher entertainment #watcher #you don't have to agree with me this is just my 2 cents #so far they've done everything right and this feels out of nowhere and very dumb #it makes me think there's A LOT they are not saying #they are planning on something bigger and riskier and they need to know how many of their fans would blindly follow #i also think they will step back from hosting in like 1-2 years or so #all the contemporary youtubers are stepping back right now #havent you guys noticed? #always the same 2 excuses #'the stress is taking a toll on my mental health' and 'ive been doing this for 10 years i want to move on' #i think they are preparing for making that step and dont want to say it

[lesuccube]

➚ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐊 𝐃 : ᴀᴜ-ᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴘɪɴᴘʀɪᴄᴋꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — what would you do if you discovered someone close to you was a mass murdering vampire ?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dark trojan [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed . reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 0.4k

there's a certain aspect to miguel that leaves you slightly baffled at times. you know he works long hours at alchemax, sometimes to the point where he'll even stay the night or two but on days he comes home, he's… different.

he becomes snappy and snarky, his usual towering height hunched over, tanned skin a shade lighter from how much he forgets to take care of himself, eyes sunken and discolored and if you look even closer, the slight protruding canines he tries to hide by mumbling whenever he speaks.

but after a few hours of going on a ‘walk’, usually during the night, he comes home looking alright again like he didn't look like he was about to be on his deathbed. standing tall again, his hulking frame towering almost everybody around him. most nights then he'll come back looking normal again, appearance and behavior-wise… save for the way his usual brown eyes border a red hue under the light.

the supernatural don't exist on this earth. lots of robotic stuff and ai, yes, but werewolves and vampires? what year are you living in? twilight’s just not it on earth-928.

but slowly and surely, there's been mass reports about random strangers being found dead in dark alleyways. according to the police, they're drained of their blood with two puncture marks on their neck. nobody wants to say it, but it's definitely a vampire. but how would a vampire survive in a world like in nueva york?

it's a city of constant progress and although there are lots of nooks and crannies to hide in, the sun here is bright and blazing and it will touch every dark corner of nueva york. who among the population is the culprit?

well, you definitely didn't expect it to be your miguel that's for sure.

you were never supposed to find out about his secret. you didn't mean to wake up, cold and alone in your shared bedroom that night. you didn't mean to walk in on him in the kitchen with his face and clothes all bloodied.

you didn't mean to make a noise, a gasp of surprise, a squeak on the floorboards. you didn't mean to make him hear you. you didn't mean to catch his attention.

the way his head snapped in your direction. eyes wide, not like a deer caught in headlights, but one of an alert predator, his irises as red as the blood that stained his being. the way his body stills and his lips curl into a snarl, revealing a set of canines the same as the puncture marks they've been showing on the news.

you didn't mean to find out, you really didn't, but you've just made yourself his next target.

"i'm sorry querida but i can't let anyone snitch on me. you understand right? this is for your own good too."

#👤 — user : kira #💾 — local disk d : au-ctober #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara angst

[baki-tiene-un-simp]

Hiii, could you please make some hc for guevara, mumon, musashi and retsu with an s/o that is basically an abnormality, for example she has like 4 arms because she was suposed to have a twin but she like ate her in the process and is like albino bit still has some color in her hair like blond and ginger and is like deaf due to the amount of abnormalities that she has and has like spots on her body due to vitiligo and things like that, like a really really weird s/o that is like extremely unic.

I would like to see musashi's reaction like thinking she is like a ghoul or an goddess or even an angel or something.

Sorry if it's too long or it doesn't appeal to you.

Have an amazing day and hope everything is ok with you 💕💕💕

Situation: S/O with some bodily peculiarity / S/O con alguna particularidad corporal.

Characters: Jun Guevara, Mumon Katsuragi, Musashi Miyamoto and Retsu Kaioh.

Jun Guevara.

He cannot believe what he sees, they must be a deity that came down from the heavens to delight humanity with their presences, so majestic and merciful.

No one should doubt his love for his S/O, there is simply no more way for Jun to show how much he loves his S/O in case anyone has any doubts, no matter how they look.

As if this man could find anything wrong with his partner, really, he is an idiot in love with the sea and his S/O. There's nothing else on that head other than his S/O. I'll even leave it at this point, it's just obvious.

Mumon Katsuragi.

Mumon can be curious, but he is extremely laid back, he won't dig too deep if the S/O's are reluctant to talk about their aspects.

He may be a little silly, but he is not an idiot and he knows how to read people, so he will be in charge of making his S/O feel at ease when they are with him.

Sporadic and sincere praise, smiles and good wishes. He is sweet.

If they ever seek to be heard, Mumon will be there, he will listen to their insecurities and make them feel loved. He can understand if they feel too left out in some places and will comfort them for that.

He can make his S/O happy, no matter what they look like, he loves them.

Musashi Miyamoto.

To be honest, I think he would see the S/O as some kind of supernatural deity or spirit.

His mind is greatly influenced by traditional beliefs where he respected and feared supernatural creatures because they brought fortune or destruction.

I think he would kneel in front of the S/O after watching them uncomfortably for a while, asking for wisdom and strength to continue getting stronger.

A little reluctant to stop believing that they are deities, even if someone else or the S/O themselves explains that this is not the case. He'll stop mentioning it out loud, but I'm sure he still believes it.

Their relationship is a little strange at first for this very reason; Many people ask for kisses/blessings from their partners for good luck as motivation, while Musashi will firmly believe that his S/O does grant him luck.

He is the most faithful and devoted admirer of his S/O, he is also the most dangerous, he does not accept insults towards his S/O. They are warned.

Retsu Kaioh.

MY man is really understanding, he wouldn't be able to single out anyone for any particularity, because that's not honorable.

For this man, the sentimental and spiritual connection is painfully important, it is at a level far above the physical appearance.

The S/O will not need to worry about awkward questions when talking to Retsu, he would never point out the S/O's particularities unless they themselves are willing to talk about it. He understands that some people don't like to talk about these issues, so he won't touch it.

If they dare to talk about their aspects, they can trust that Retsu will listen, perhaps the question of “Does this affect your health?”, will leave Retsu's lips listening to them. That's all he cares about.

I'm not trying to say he's the best option yes that's exactly what I mean, I just want to clarify.

Versión en español

Jun Guevara.

Él no puede creer lo que ve, debes ser una deidad que bajo de los cielos para deleitar a la humanidad con su presencia, tan majestuosa y misericordiosa.

Nadie debería dudar sobre su amor por su S/O, simplemente ya no hay más forma en que Jun pueda demuestre cuanto ama a su S/O por si a alguien le queda dudas, se vea como se vea.

Como si este hombre pudiera encontrar algo malo en su pareja, de verdad, es un idiota enamorado del mar y de su S/O. No hay nada más en esa cabeza aparte de su S/O. Incluso lo dejaré hasta aquí, simplemente es evidente.

Mumon Katsuragi.

Mumon puede ser curioso, pero es extremadamente relajado, no indagará demasiado si el S/O se muestra reacio a hablar sobre su aspecto.

Puede ser un poco tonto, pero no es idiota y sabe como leer a las personas, por lo que se encargara de hacer sentir a gusto a su S/O cuando estén con él.

Elogios esporádicos y sinceros, sonrisas y buenos deseos. Es dulce.

Si alguna vez buscan ser escuchados, Mumon estará ahí, escuchará sus inseguridades y los hará sentir queridos. Puede entender si se sienten demasiado excluidos en algunos lugares y los consolará por eso.

Él puede hacer feliz a su S/O, sin importar como se vean, él les ama.

Musashi Miyamoto.

Para ser honesta, creo que él vería al S/O como una especie de deidad o espíritu sobrenatural.

Su mente está sumamente influenciada por las creencias tradicionales en donde se respetaba y temía a las criaturas sobrenaturales porque daban fortuna o destrucción.

Pienso que se arrodillaría frente al S/O después de obsérvales incómodamente por un rato, pidiéndole sabiduría y fortaleza para seguir haciéndose fuerte.

Un poco reacio a dejar de creer que son deidades, aunque alguien más o el propio S/O le explique que no es el caso. Dejará de mencionarlo en voz alta, pero seguro que lo sigue creyendo.

Su relación es un poco extraña al principio por esto mismo; muchas personas piden besos/bendiciones de sus parejas para la buena suerte como motivación, mientras que Musashi creerá firmemente que su S/O sí le otorga suerte.

Es el más fiel y devoto admirador de su S/O, también es el más peligroso, no acepta insultos hacia su S/O. Advertidos están.

Retsu Kaioh.

MI hombre es realmente comprensivo, él no sería capaz de señalar a nadie por ninguna particularidad, porque eso no es honorable.

Para este hombre es dolorosamente importante la conexión sentimental y espiritual, está a un nivel muy por encima del aspecto físico. Muy por encima.

El S/O no necesitará preocuparse por preguntas incómodas al hablar con Retsu, él jamás señalaría las particularidades del S/O a menos que este mismo este dispuesto a hablar de ello. Entiende que a algunas personas no le gusta hablar de estos temas, así que, no lo tocara.

Si se animan a hablar de su aspecto, pueden confiar en que Retsu escuchara, quizá la pregunta de “¿Esto afecta a tu salud?”, salga de los labios de Retsu después de escucharlos. Es todo lo que le preocupa.

No estoy tratando de decir que es la mejor opción sí, es exactamente lo que quiero decir, solo quiero aclararlo.

#jun guevara #jun guevara baki #jun guevara x reader #jun guevara x lector #mumon katsuragi #mumon katsuragi baki gaiden yuuenchi #mumon katsuragi x reader #mumon katsuragi x lector #miyamoto musashi #musashi miyamoto baki #musashi miyamoto x reader #musashi miyamoto x lector #retsu kaioh #retsu baki #retsu kaioh x reader #retsu kaioh x lector #baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #baki dou #baki headcanons

[jilixthinker]

embryos

☆ MASTERLIST ☆

PART 1 PART 2

pairing: felix × jisung

genre: angst, supernatural, smut

summary: "purity. those who possess it can have the access. it's like a key. only the pure souls who die in your world can enter in mine. the only requirement is a body. flesh in exchange for the eternal sun".

word count: 5.5 K (in part 1)

content warning: depression, death, mentions of suicide, pain and sufference, parallel universes, smut, jisung and felix are so in love it hurts, eventual happy ending

a/c: i wrote this a few years ago and never finished it, but i cared so much about the idea itself that i forced myself back to finally put an end to it. i still don't know how many chapters i will divide this into, but i guess it will be 3/4 maximum. please, enjoy it at least half as much as i did ♡

I have never been a diamond. For as long as I can remember, I have always sided with the useless. Many have tried to make me face who I am, and still, the only thing I could see were black eyes and no intention to exist. Even after years, when I look in the mirror, my image continues to show me something I do not recognize as myself. I never wanted to shine, I was always at the bottom of a hole. Never a diamond, just a lightless opal. Strings pulling a puppet without someone to maneuver it. A reflection.

Jisung wakes up the way incongruents do. He opens his eyes, blinks twice, maybe three times. As the light overbearingly invades the room, he curses and swears at everything around him. If he knew more than one language he would probably curse in that one too. He throws his legs off the bed and slowly stretches them. He arches his back like a cat and feels his vertebrae snap as if they were moving away from each other.

The first foot on the icy floor is traumatic, as always, and the second is certainly no better. With shuffling steps he makes his way to the window, the cause and fault of all that light, and behind the wide-open sashes he finds a busy Seoul, more alive than ever. Jisung snorts contritely and pulls the small rope that holds the blinds up. Only when the room stagnates in a lazy half-light, he lets out a sigh of relief. He takes two steps toward the mattress and for a few seconds he thinks about throwing himself back on it, fuck all commitments, classes, university, and fuck his phone that just decided to ring.

Groping around, with his eyes still half-closed, he slips an arm under his pillow and looks for the cause of all that noise. He brushes against the cover of his cell phone, which slides a few inches forward, slipping from his fingers. Oh, that's perfect. Thank you. When he finally manages to grab it, he unlocks the call without even looking at the screen.

"No".

From the other line he ears a grunt and a cough, then an overly deep voice.

"No, what?"

Jisung rolls his eyes and sits on his bed, crossing his ankles and shaking his head.

"Minho?"

"No, your majesty the queen. I won't take a no as an answer from anyone, especially not from you".

More noises in the background. Jisung thinks he hears a slap, another grunt, and the squelching sound of a kiss.

"Jisung? Sorry, that animal took my phone from my hands while you were answering me".

Another voice, much more graceful and alert than the previous one, rings inside his ear. Jisung barely pulls the device away while looking up.

"Do we want to continue with all this whining or are you going to tell me why you called me? I'm quite busy".

"Busy? Are you jacking off? Anyway, I heard you answering no. And you know I don't accept a no as an answer from anyone, especially from..."

Jisung stands up from his bed and stumbles over a slipper. Not that balance has ever been his best quality.

"Did you and your boyfriend decided to talk the same way to irritate me endlessly? Because you always do it without even trying, just for you to know".

The voice squeaks in a distinctly offended tone, and Jisung can imagine his interlocutor's lips curving into a grimace.

"Han Jisung, if you don't get your ass out your house and get ready in twenty minutes, I swear to God I will set fire to your life and everything I can find in it. You cannot miss another class. That is mandatory".

The sound of the closed signal wakes Jisung up from the morning fog. He runs a hand over his sweaty face and, with the phone still wedged between his shoulder and head, he whispers.

"Good morning to you, Chan".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

After twenty minutes and many other curses, Jisung is standing outside of his elegant building. His lace-up shoes, combed hair, and an off-white shirt shine as if lit by stage spotlights. He glances at the expensive watch he wears on his wrist and he thinks that, if impressions were always right, then he would be a spoiled daddy's boy with a beautiful girlfriend and a perfect life. Instead, he reflects bitterly as Chan's car pulls up in front of him, he is a daddy's boy who hates his privileged status, with no one beside him and a nuclear explosion always about to burst his brain. But there is no need to worry. Impressions are everything.

"You have awful dark circles".

Jisung slips into the back seat of Chan's expensive car. He tosses his shoulder strap and smiles sarcastically at Minho.

"I wouldn't worry about other people's dark circles with an ugly face like yours".

Minho bursts out laughing, slowly driving back into the lane. Jisung leans toward the seat in front of his, hugging the backrest.

"Someday you will explain to me why you always let him drive your car".

Chan turns to look at him and pinches his nose. He does this on purpose to make him nervous because he knows how much Jisung despites physical contact.

"Because I can recognize my limits, unlike you. And don't try to deflect the topic. You missed a week of classes, the professors were starting to get impatient, and I couldn't take notes for the three of us. Can you explain what the fuck were you doing?"

Jisung shakes off his best friend with a vacant stare.

"The three of us?" He asks, sidestepping the question.

"You know that this animal", Chan reaches out to point at Minho "does everything but paying attention. However, an answer would be more than welcome".

Jisung huffs and crosses his legs against the seat in front of him. He does not want to answer. He has no reason to justify his absence from classes. He did absolutely nothing during that week. He procrastinated everything that could be done, ate very little and showered even less. He spent all his time lying on his huge bed in his huge house, alone, looking at the ceiling and thinking about how his life was going in a completely unfamiliar and negative direction. Starting with the university that had been chosen by someone else, his house that had been delivered to him already furnished, and all the relationships that he had that now seemed false, distant, and unattainable. Jisung felt like his essence was been split against his will and another person was living his life. His real self was behind a mirror, imprisoned and motionless, watching him silently, without uttering a word.

He closes his eyes and presses his fingers to the junction of his nose.

"I had a fever, I couldn't get up".

Chan sighs. He doesn't believe him for a moment, but insisting with Jisung is like yelling to a mountain to get up and walk.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Minho pulls over near the curb to let Jisung and Chan off. He said that he will not join them. He has an interview with a colleague of his parents who may decide to take him as an intern. Chan places a kiss on his boyfriend's lips. A kiss that, according to Jisung, lasts a little too long considering they are not alone, and then he runs into the cafeteria next to the university to get them two iced americanos. Jisung picks up his briefcase and smooths out the creases on his blue cigarette pants.

"You are not well".

Minho is looking at him as people may look at an underfed dog on the side of the road.

"Why do I feel like this is not a question?"

Jisung gets out of the car and closes the door, then walks over to stand next by the other boy and he scrutinizes him for a few seconds. Minho works as a model, it's inevitable for him to be attractive. He has muscular legs, fair skin, and big eyes. But Jisung knows that's not the reason he was hired. The truth is that Minho knows exactly what he wants, from everything. From his job, from his relationship, from life. He has a very strong determination that is impossible not to notice in his gaze.

Jisung instead, and he turns around to look at his image in the rearview mirror, has the gaze of someone who does not even want to be noticed.

"It wasn't. It was an observation".

"I don't need any help".

"I know. You and I are the same".

Jisung bursts out laughing, his laugh drained of any sort of amusement.

"You and I have nothing in common, for your luck".

Minho smiles at him accommodatingly as he places one hand on the steering wheel and one on the gear. Jisung steps out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

He looks at his reflection on Chan’s shiny red car. He can barely recognize the lips he was so proud of, even if it’s ridiculous to think about it now that it seems like centuries have passed. They are a lurid, wispy copy of what they used to be. He has absolutely no recollection of how long it has been since he last kissed someone with that mouth. There is not a single time he can look at himself without a sense of nausea pervading him from head to toe and forcing him to look away immediately. Despite his best efforts, however, his image haunts him wherever he goes and whatever he does.

A rather violent push wakes him up from his thoughts. Minho is still in front of him, huffing because the light is still red and preventing him from moving forward. Jisung turns his head to see where the push came from. He catches a glimpse of the back of a boy who is quickly walking away.

"Hey!"

He yells at him loudly enough so that the latter can hear him above the infernal noise of the traffic, but the boy keeps walking fast, almost quickening his pace.

Jisung moves forward and decides that no, he absolutely does not want to be ignored like that by someone who has just run into him.

"Hey!", he repeats, and starts running until he finds himself behind him. A few meters behind, the green light finally lets Minho turn on the engine.

"I'm not saying you have apologize, but at least you could turn around".

Jisung grabs the arm of the rude stranger who quickly walks into the crosswalk, dragging Jisung with him. He doesn’t even give him a glance and doesn’t turn around.

Jisung opens his mouth and now he is sure that he will not continue to be so kind if this guy is going to avoid him. He absentmindedly hears Chan's footsteps coming out of the cafeteria and he's about to tell him to wait for him just a moment, just long enough for him to clear a few things up with the stranger who has, he's pretty sure, hit him on purpose.

Instead, his ears catch only the sound of the two coffee cups slipping down from his friend's hands and a shrill quiver. He just has the time to turn his head and see Chan with his mouth wide open and his eyes terrified, standing motionless on the sidewalk, with one hand extended in his direction.

"What..."

But he does not have the time to finish the sentence because he feels a tug from the stranger he is still grabbing by the elbow, and then a dull pain.

The last thing he senses is an immense red stain in front of him, smell of burning tires irritating his nostrils and a loud ringing noise in his ears. Then nothing.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

beep beep beep

-Jisung-.

Jisung hears a familiar voice calling him. Jisung? Was that the right name? His ears do not react. Another low sounding voice echoes around him.

"Jisung. Come back. We won't let you go".

Something touches his face, very lightly. A deep breath. Jisung tries to figure out in what position his body is placed. He feels forced into something even though he is almost certain he is lying down. He seems to be missing a piece, a part of himself. There is a strong foreign smell of disinfectant alcohol. He tries to open his eyes but cannot find the right muscles to do so.

"Please".

The first voice, the softer, more familiar one, continues to speak to him. He feels a hand caressing his face and eyelids. Once he feels that pressure, he finally identifies where his eyes are and manages to blink once.

"He is waking up".

It takes him a few moments to bring the scene into focus. There is too much white and the light is glaring. He sees, first blurred and then increasingly sharp, three faces leaning over him. Two of them he recognizes, one of them he does not know to whom he belongs. He closes and reopens his eyelids several times until he completely focuses on his surroundings.

"Where..."

He tries to speak but his voice is unfamiliar, as if he had just finished working in the mine. He coughs and regrets it bitterly a second later. Every breath causes him a painful twinge in his chest.

"You are at the hospital".

Chan speaks to him with shining eyes. Jisung turns his head and sees several tubes attached to his arm.

"What?"

Minho curls an arm around Chan's waist and pulls him close. The doctor, the man whose face he did not recognize, checks the IVs and the monitor beside his bed.

"Talk and move as little as possible. The more you try to rest the faster we can discharge you".

He gives him a smile, then looks apprehensively at the two boys next to him and leaves the room.

"What", repeats Jisung panting. His breathing quickens as he realizes where he is.

"You had an accident". Minho squeezes Chan tightly as he speaks. "You crossed the street all of a sudden, I was too close. I tried to hit the brakes but you were..."

He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes. He tightens his lips as he tries not to fidget like his boyfriend.

"Jisung", continues Chan. "I came out of the cafeteria and I saw you crossing the street with someone. The light was green, Minho was a meter away from you, he couldn't stop on time. He literally drove all over you. You were in a coma for a week. I, we thought ..."

His words are interrupted as he begins to cry his body shaking violently.

One week. One week of coma. Jisung's eyes are wide open and he feels his heart stop.

"We thought you wouldn't make it".

Minho's voice is terribly serious. It is obvious that he feels responsible for what has happened.

"What do I have now?".

The voice seems not to belong to him, as if it came from miles away and he heard only its distant echo.

"You have nothing, that's what no one can understand. You should have your pelvis broken, together with all your ribs, arms and legs. You should have a head injury. You should be dead, really. They did all the checks on you as soon as you got here. Nothing came up. In fact, you weren't even really in a coma. It was like you were asleep. No one has given a plausible explanation, Jisung. It seems like a miracle".

At those words, Chan detangles himself from his boyfriend's protective embrace and collapses on Jisung, crying on his neck and caressing his shoulders and all the parts he can reach.

"I will never be able to forget the noise the car made when it crashed into you. Never".

Minho lowers his head and begins to tremble as well before slumping down in the chair beside the bed. Jisung just lifts his arm to let it rest on Chan's head and stroke his hair. The movement costs him immense effort.

"It's not your fault, Minho".

Minho sinks his hands into his hair and a few tears line his cheeks.

"Yes it is. I should have gone slower, I should have tried to stop earlier, I should have..."

Jisung raises a finger to silence him and shakes his head very slowly. No, he mimes with his lips, it's not your fault. Chan seems to recover and looks up at him.

"I don't think I've ever been so afraid in my life". he whispers and caresses Jisung’s sweat-soaked forehead.

Jisung closes his eyes. He feels his head bursting as if he had a crowd of people inside of it, jumping and banging their feet on his brain.

A week asleep in something which is not even a coma. Nothing broken, no repercussions. Like it never happened. It seems so unreal to him that he thinks he's going to wake up in his room, with the alarm beeping annoyingly and no will to go to class.

Then, in a second, a thought hits him on the spot and he stiffens.

"There was another person. There was another person with me".

It’s little more than a hiss, but Chan and Minho hear him. The two boys look at each other, and Jisung clearly sees something snap. He can almost hear the sound of it when Chan takes his right wrist in his hands, gently.

"The other person died".

Jisung does not sleep that night and neither does the following.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Jisung is discharged three days later.

His parents called him from the US. The line was bad and he couldn't say much. Not that he had much to tell, he couldn't remember anything, and he wouldn't have wanted to hear their voices anyway. Their son could have died in a car accident, and they didn't even care enough to take a plane to visit him. But he expected it after all. In fact, he is not even that disappointed when he finds out that Chan and Minho were the only ones staying with him during the days he was unconscious.

Jisung decides not to ask the other boy's name. He simply cannot. And even though he does not believe in the existence of God, he thanks him. He thanks him all the way home, with Chan and Minho attached to him, afraid to let him move. He thanks him for seconds, minutes, hours. He thanks him, but not for being alive. He thanks him because he didn’t see his face. If he had, if the boy had turned around when he grabbed his arm, his face would have been sculpted in his mind like a firebrand.

But he didn’t see it, and that allows him a sort of detachment, some dignity. It spares him some pain. That’s why he is grateful to a God in whom he doesn’t even believe. Maybe Jisung will be able to move on without the remorse hunting him, reminding him that if he hadn’t chased him, if he hadn’t screamed and touched him, the boy could still be alive. alive. alive. alive.

"Jisung".

Jisung looks away from the buildings flowing behind the cab window. Chan smiles at him. Minho, two days earlier, confessed that he destroyed the car. He would never be able to get into it again after the accident.

"I'm fine". he answers to the unspoken question.

In fact, it's not even a lie. He is fine, he feels no pain whatsoever and he is able to move perfectly as nothing ever happened. But then he remembers the nape of that neck, the slim waist, the thin arm he grabbed, and he realizes that no, he is not fine at all.

They get outside of his building a few minutes later. Jisung stares at it, standing imposingly in one of the most luxurious parts of the city, and inside he knows he doesn't deserve any of that.

"I'll walk you upstairs".

Chan takes his hand and tries to open the door, but Jisung pulls him back and forces him to sit back in his seat.

"No need. I can go. You guys go and rest".

"Jisung, I will not leave you".

Chan crosses his arms over his chest and looks at him seriously, with a worried frown in his voice.

Jisung knows he just wants to protect him, but Chan doesn't understand how much he needs to stay alone with himself and his thoughts.

"But I need to be alone".

Minho nods understandingly and holds his boyfriend against his chest.

"Call us if you need anything. You know we are here".

Jisung forces a smile. Minho looks at him and he knows it's not spontaneous, but he appreciates that he tried despite everything.

"I know. Thank you".

He gets out of the cab with his small bag containing his clothing, medications and tranquilizers, plus a prescription for a psychologist session that he is certain he will not use. The vehicle behind him disappears into the traffic.

Jisung looks around and everything seems so strange, unnatural, and different, almost frightening to him. With a sigh he crosses the threshold of the building and walks down the hall feeling everyone's gaze on him.

Before anyone can speak to him, however, he steps into the elevator and leans his back against the polished wall. He looks up and tries hard not to think about when, an instant before the crash, he pulled the boy against his chest.

When he enters in his apartment, it almost seems that time did not pass. Everything is still as it was the day of the accident. When Minho came to get his clothes he evidently did not touch anything else, and Jisung mentally thanks him for that. Jisung faces the bed, which is still unmade, and throws himself on it carelessly. The mattress bounces under his weight.

The window is closed, but Seoul's afternoon light filters inside from the large living room balcony. Jisung curls up and closes his eyes trying to silence the voices in his head, and he thinks that somewhere in the universe someone must really hate him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

He wakes up that it is barely dawn. A dim ray, too weak to really disturb him, hits his sleep-wrinkled face and softens his forehead. He has been tossing and turning in bed all night. Not that he thought he was going to sleep, but he hoped that his head would give him at least a few hours of rest before starting to replay in slow motion the full dynamics of the crash. He listlessly gets up and shuffles into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator in search of something to eat.

He picks up a jar of yogurt, but when he looks at the expiration date he tosses it into the dumpster. A black banana falls into his hand. Jisung shudders because he only eats unripe fruit, and he throws that too. Eventually he finds a box of rice cereals buried on the top floor of the pantry. He begins to eat it leaning against the peninsula of the table while chewing slowly and looking out from the balcony. The city has woken up before him, as far as he can hear from the sound of the engines and horns coming from outside. Living on the top floor of a building in Gangnam is irrelevant if you can't have some peace, he thinks.

When his stomach seems to have calmed down, he decides to take a shower. Maybe that will wash away the horrible feeling of heaviness, together with the hospital smell he has been carrying around for days.

He is about to take off his shirt and pants when he hears his phone ringing insistently.

"How are you?"

Jisung lowers his pants and boxers in one swoop while he puts his phone in an impossible position on the crook of his neck.

"As I should".

"And that is?".

"Like shit, Chan".

He hears a soft snort from the other line. He can imagine his friend pacing up and down in his apartment, trying not to wake up Minho.

"Do you want me to come over? You won’t have anything to eat. I'll bring you lunch later".

Jisung takes off his shirt too and stands naked in the half-light, crossing his legs and closing his eyes.

"Thanks but it's not..."

Chan interrupts him, the angry tone clashing with his pain.

"Han Jisung, don't tell me it's not necessary or I swear I'll kick your ass. I'll just bring you lunch. And don't you dare not to open the door. I spent the night thinking about you, all alone in that huge thing you call home, so I expect you to eat whatever I’ll get you. Did I make myself clear?"

Jisung remains silent a few seconds, waiting for his friend to finish his rant.

"You have made yourself clear. But now get a couple of hours of sleep. When I said I feel like crap I didn't mean I'm going to jump out of a window. Okay?"

"Not at all. See you later".

As usual, the sound of the line makes Jisung wake up completely.

"See you later". he murmurs to himself.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The water is warm and reddens his skin. Jisung stands still and looks at the ceiling. For a moment he forgets what did happen up to that moment. For a second he is just Han Jisung, he is twenty-three years old, a law student who has two very good friends, a beautiful house and no problems. A normal guy. Everything looks so right inside that steamy cabin where everything exists in its proper place, perfectly set in every corner of his head.

However, when he slides the transparent door open, everything reverts to its disordered state and evaporates along with the drops of boiling water. Jisung absentmindedly observes the skin of his stomach. There are no marks left to testify the accident, and the IV holes are disappearing from his arms. Perhaps time will heal his thoughts as well.

He takes a towel from the closet next to the shower and he vigorously rubs his hair and face. He has no idea about the conditions of his face, to tell the truth. He has not looked at himself for more than a week.

He places the spongy fabric on a shelf and he approaches the mirror. He crinkles his eyes and thousands of black dots appear in front of him, blurring his vision. He staggeringly leans against the sink and waits until he can see everything clearly again. The lights above the mirror are too bright, and Jisung quickly thinks he needs to replace them.

"I must look terrible". he murmurs to himself, laughing dryly.

"You do not".

A voice clearly resonates inside the room.

Jisung turns icy, motionless. A meaningless echo rumbles with the quick realization that someone is there.

Someone broke into.

Into his house. Into his bathroom.

Jisung breath quickens. He keeps his gaze on the sink, trying to figure out where that voice might be coming from.

No one has the keys to his apartment, he thinks disconnectedly. Only Chan knows where he hides them. But a break-in seems unreasonable to him. His apartment is on the 25th floor of a building which is under constant surveillance.

Then who, how, why

"Who are you?"

His voice gushes out rather controlled compared to the nuclear bomb that has just exploded inside his chest. Jisung barely straightens his back and, from the corner of his eyes, he looks behind him, searching for a shadow that would give him a hint of where the stranger is hiding.

"Look up".

The stranger's voice is calm, gentle. A simple observation.

Jisung straightens up a bit. The voice is not coming from behind, he is sure.

"Who are you?" he repeats.

This time his mask of fake strength cracks blatantly. He takes a fleeting glance at his hands and he is not surprised to find them shaking.

"Why don't you see it by yourself?"

Jisung's brain makes a space-time jump. He is no longer inside his bathroom, but in his parents' house. In the living room, to be exact. He is sixteen years old, with fairly long and neglected hair, and an uncertain smile on his face. His brother is sitting in front of him. He is talking to him.

"When you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation", he tells him, "and you can't make the right decision, you have to consider everything you see as a dream inside your imagination. A dream you are living as the protagonist. You think you don't know what is going to happen, but the only one who decides the fate of the ending is you. Even if you don't know it. Even if the events make no sense. You are the only master of your dream and the only director of your life. So, take a breath, open your eyes and observe. Don't get carried away by your emotions. Watch everything as if it doesn’t affect you personally. Because, at the end, it’s just a scene in the movie you are filming. Twists and turns are inevitable, but if you pay attention you will see that there are small discrepancies between the reels that you change. You just have to watch and breathe. Just that, Jisung. Watch and breathe".

Watch and breathe.

Jisung hears those words blowing in his ears. He lifts his head and, somewhere far away, he hears the ticking of water drops falling on the floor.

In front of him there is still the same mirror framing in perspective the bathroom where he is standing. Watching and breathing.

Jisung watches and breathes.

He watches the reflection of a fair body in front of him, a body with a small chest and narrow shoulders, eyes large and expressive, hair blonde, long and neat.

He breathes what must be liquid oxygen, because he feels it flowing differently inside his lungs, it cannot be just air.

He watches a pair of red lips, a small nose, and milky skin adorned with freckles. A face that almost seems to glow under the light of the bulb. He breathes sweat, and he feels as if it rests on his body in a veil, enveloping him completely.

He watches a shy smile, not bold or opinionated. A smile which is just overwhelmingly sweet.

He watches a face of a stranger he has never seen. And he breathes, breathes blood bubbling unsteadily under his enlarged veins.

The reflection in the mirror is not Jisung. The reflection in the mirror is everything Jisung is not. Because Jisung has a tan body, a broad chest and broad shoulders. Jisung has sharp, dull eyes, wet hair, and pale, wispy lips. His nose is bigger and his skin is dull despite of being damp from the shower. Jisung does not smile under the light bulb. Jisung has something that prevents him from pulling his facial muscles and curling his mouth. Jisung is naked in front of the mirror, yet he is wearing a mask. Jisung doesn’t shine, above all. He doesn’t shine.

The boy behind the mirror watches him and breathes. He watches him and breathes in a way that is the same of Jisung, but so much different that it almost hurts. So he reaches out his hand and rests it on the surface of the glass, as to reassure him.

And that’s when he speaks again, when his voice echoes inside that room, that Jisung knows that he is really what he will never be.

"I have always been here". he says.

Then all the lights turn off, or perhaps it’s Jisung himself that is turning off. He closes his eyes and it almost feels like an abomination because he was finally seeing a light.

The last image he sees it’s a hand on a glass in a bathroom, in a building, in a city whose name he cannot remember.

But that's okay.

Because Jisung believes him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

©️ jilixthinker, 2023. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #lee felix #felix #skz angst #skz supernatural #skz smut #han jisung smut #felix smut #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagine #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids smut

[noisyghost]

Ooo you fed me so well, I wasn’t even sure if I would get answers! So now I’m gonna try my hand at asking who bit Ark, what happened?! This is so juicy (rubbing my gremlin hands together).

oh rest assured, I will answer any and all OC related questions with overwhelming fervor and I will not be cool about it at all <3

The person that bit Ark was Josie! She's what the girlies like to call "a hot mess" <3

im so sorry this reply is so long. I started typing and kept failing to summarize things until it was. way too many paragraphs lmao. TLDR; Ark and Mira were attempting to rescue a woman named Josie who'd basically been manipulated into servitude by a very shitty guy. Josie also happens to be a werewolf. At some point during the attempted rescue, Josie had to watch someone she cared about a lot be killed, and she immediately wolfed out and attacked everyone around her, including Ark <3

I did not proofread this after typing it and it's 1am so i'm sorry if some things dont line up correctly, im stupid :)

Josie got bit when she was 18 on a camping trip with friends and it subsequently ruined her life. She survived bc a monster hunter killed the werewolf before it killed her, but she still got bit and ended up running away from home bc the aforementioned monster hunter told her to (it was either "run away and never come back" or "im killing you right now for real") everyone in her family thinks she died except her sister, Rose, who saw it happen and - upon never finding the body - spent the next 10 or so years looking for her.

Because Josie never really had anyone to explain to her what was going on, or support her in any way, she spent a lot of time alone, and subsequently fell into some pretty dark places. She eventually finds herself stuck in a monster fighting ring bc shes been conditioned to think that this is literally all shes good for. At the very least, she makes "good friends" with another werewolf girl stuck in the same spot as her named Cleo and theyre basically the only thing keeping each other alive for the next couple years.

At some point in all this, her sister Rose manages to track her down, but worried about her and her sisters safety, gets in contact with Mira (who is functionally the lynchpin holding the entire cities supernatural community together whether anyone knows it or not lmao) to ask for help rescuing her from the guy basically keeping her prisoner.

Aforementioned guy keeping these monster girls prisoner was named Dekker, and he was basically the scum of the earth. He dealt in monsters and magic and took advantage of a lot of peoples inability to get help (EX: 'you're a werewolf. what are you gonna do? who's gonna help you? no one. theyll just think you're crazy, and then youll end up killing innocent people because you're a monster and that's what you do). Josie and Cleo were his favorite girls and he showboated them around as both arm candy and bodyguards.

The thing with Mira and her work is that she likes to help people as best she can, but she's not like. A superhero with all the latest tech. She's a woman with a smartphone and a handful of 30 year old weirdo friends that share a group chat where someone will text "do we have plans this weekend?" and then someone will reply 3 days later with "i forgot what day it was". They're not exactly the justice league.

All they were trying to do was find Josie and rescue her for her sister. Mira has a lot of power and can do a lot of things, but this Dekker guy was notoriously slippery, and no amount of brute force was going to get them into one of these monster fights without notifying Dekker and giving him a chance to escape with the girls.

So, after tracking down one of these fights, the plan was to sneak in, find Josie and then convince her to leave with them. Originally, it was just supposed to be Mira doing all the legwork. But Ark, who was going thru a fucking crisis of identity at the time and also saw a lot of his own sister in Rose, essentially demands Mira lets him help under the guise of "I'm human, I'm way less likely to draw unwanted attention". Esp since Mira is a 6'4" goddess who attracts attention everywhere she goes lmao (Of note, they had several friends who also urged Ark to Not Volunteer To Do This, but outside factors made it unrealistic for this plan to work without getting caught with anyone other than Ark oops).

So Ark went in to find Josie and Mira was anxiously playing support, ready to rush in and save him if need be. And, to be fair, he did in fact find Josie! He told her who he was and who sent him here (Rose) and told her all she had to do was go find Mira and she would get her out. But Josie was skeptical and, frankly, afraid. She didn't believe that Mira had the power to keep her safe from Dekker, but she also didn't want to believe that her sister had been looking for her for 10 years because she was so disgusted with herself she would have preferred her sister just think she was dead!

However - Cleo, who was with Josie, did not share her fears. Cleo had had Enough, and wanted to run away with her. Josie panicked, afraid that if they ran, they were going to be hunted down and everyone involved with her was going to be killed.

So she ran away to a back room to calm down. Cleo went after her, and Ark kind of followed, but at a distance. Cleo did manage to get her settled a little, but the both of them got caught by Dekker, who harassed Josie into admitting that there was someone there trying to get them to leave, hoping he would respect the honesty. He did not.

To try and mitigate some of the flack, Cleo claimed she was the one the guy was talking to, so he would chew her out instead. Josie and Cleo both felt bad that they'd fucked this guy over, but if he was with someone as powerful as he claimed to be, he'd be alright, surely?

Apparently this was not the first time Cleo has been distant from Dekker recently. It was clear she wasn't as afraid of him as he thought she should be. So he made the executive decision to make an example out of her.

The thing about werewolves and the full moon is this: the full moon is the only time when a werewolf is forced to turn. However, they can technically turn whenever if you supply enough trauma. For Josie, that line was watching Dekker kill the only person she'd loved in the last decade.

He'd expected her to fall in line because that's what she'd been doing for the last few years. He didn't really know what Cleo had meant to her, so he hadn't expected any retaliation. But something snapped in her brain and everything kinda went red.

Josie's a particularly large werewolf - at least 13'; there's a reason she was a fighting champion - so when a beast like that gets let loose in a relatively small arena, things tend to go bad fast! She just blindly started tearing people apart (including Dekker, of course).

Ark had heard the muffled gunshots over the music and the crowd and he just went in on instinct, knowing immediately he was fucked regardless of what he did. Things escalated very quickly after that. It couldn't have been more than 30 seconds that passed inbetween Josie wolfing out and her clamping her teeth into his shoulder. And maybe it was just a moment of grief-stricken clarity, but she wavered just slightly - what the fuck was she doing? She hated him because he'd tried to help and if he'd never shown up, they would be fine. But Cleo had trusted him without a doubt, like she just intrinsically knew something about him. And no matter how much she hated him in that moment, It's not what Cleo would have wanted. Dekker was dead.

Josie gently let go of him, mostly sure it wouldn't matter because he'd die either way. She took Cleo's body and she fled. Mira saw Ark, and she saw Josie run - she could choose one or the other. She, of course, chose to help Ark, immediately struck with the guilt of knowing that he was here because she couldn't talk him out of it, and because she thought she'd be strong enough to keep him safe anyway.

The next couple weeks are a blur for everyone. Mira hates Josie and she hates Rose for coming to her in the first place. Ark hates himself, mostly, because he was tired of being the weak little human everyone had to dote on so he decided to get in over his head playing hero. Well, at least he didnt have to worry about the human part any more.

Josie buried Cleo in the woods. She marked the grave and visits often.

Anyway.

Would you believe me if I told you this very sad series of events somehow ends in Ark marrying a professional wrestler? Or Josie going on to become a lawyer with a house-husband who is also part demon? Because it somehow gets much, much weirder.

#shut up bug #not art #bug answers #absolutely deranged headworld i've built #'when does the guy with blue hair show up' #don't worry about it

[thestruidora]

Sweetheart

Supernatural Fanfiction

Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Yandere, Borderline Personality Disorder, Stalker, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Angst, Angst, Fluff and Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Hurt/Comfort, Therapy, Miscommunication, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink

Category: F/M

Pairings: Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Reader

Summary: Dean has borderline personality disorder and the reader is his favorite person.

Chapter Updates: Masterlist

Author's notes: It's Jensen's birthday and I'm on tumblr posting disturbing fanfiction about him. What better gift is there?

Chapter Three

Three of Swords

“The Three of Swords is a card of heartache and sadness. In a love reading, it can represent loneliness, infidelity or rejection.”

“Hi,” Dean’s mouth was dry, but his palms were sweating. He didn’t remember feeling this nervous in a very long time. “I have a session with Y/N.”

“Just one sec.” The receptionist said without sparing him a single glance, too busy typing something on the computer behind the front desk. After almost a full minute had gone by, she finally looked up at him. Her eyes grew under her blunt bangs, giving Dean a quick once-over, a charmed smile appearing on her lips. “Oh, hello! How can I help you?”

She giggled, honest-to-God giggled, and that only made Dean’s nerves rise.

He still had an effect on women, same as usual. He still made them lose track of their whereabouts, made them giddy without even having to try. And that meant that you, specifically, were immune to it. The only woman in the world he wanted to impress and you seemed to be unattainable.

“I have a therapy session with Y/N.” He repeated it.

“Of course.” She shook her head, trying to concentrate on her task. “Let me just look for your appointment… What’s your name?” She was all smiles, draping herself on her desk as she leaned forward in his direction.

“Dean.” He cracked the knuckles of his hands, feeling unsettled. He just wanted to see you. “Winchester.”

“Okay.” She typed some more on the keyboard. “Oh, here you are, ‘Winchester’. You’re right on time, she actually just wrapped up with her last patient and is already waiting for you. If you go through this corridor, it’s the second door to the right.”

“Thanks.” He replied, going down the path she indicated.

He thought about how he had gotten here, having to lie and manipulate someone he cared about. But it was for your own good.

“Yes, Dean, it is very much set in stone.” It had been your answer when he asked about being your patient. You had discernibly taken it as a joke with the way you laughed it off, moving to get up from the park bench and go on your way.

But Dean held your arm and prevented your exit.

“I’m serious.” He told you in a somber tone.

“But you basically just said you’d never want to go to therapy, wouldn't even consider it.” You eyed the big hand that was wrapped around your forearm, not understanding his abrupt change in demeanor.

“Yeah, but I think maybe I should.” He noticed your tense posture and let go of your arm, allowing some space between the two of you, his voice lowering in volume at his next words. “I didn’t want to have to spring this all up on you, but… Remember when I told you that I have no family left?”

“Yes.” Your tone matched his as you relaxed a bit into the conversation.

“I failed to mention that my brother’s death happened recently, a little over a year ago.” He couldn't believe he said it, he had never spoken about it to anyone other than Lisa, and he only ever said what she needed to know, which wasn’t much.

“I’m so sorry.” Your eyebrows frowned and your eyes filled with genuine compassion, and the way that your expression reminded him of Sam made his chest ache.

“I am too. And I think this sorrow has affected me more than I care to admit.” He confessed. “I talked to some people about itand it didn’t help. But when I talk to you, it does.” That was all true, everything he had told you up to that point had been the utter truth.

“Look, grief can be a devastating thing to go through. And there are plenty of people that can help you deal with it in the best possible way, professionals on the matter, I can absolutely refer you to-”

“No, please. You don’t understand, it has to be you.” Because you’re being haunted and I need to stay close to you to work the case.

“There are ways for people that feel uncomfortable to begin engaging in psychotherapy that are less invasive than what you think. You would start slow, ease your way into it, but I can’t be the one to do it.” Your expression was even and your voice gentle. “I already know you, on a personal level, that is not how a therapist/patient relationship should go.”

“I won’t be able to open up to some stranger.” That part was real. “And I think… I think I really need this. I’ve been having these nightmares, every night.” And so was that. “And sometimes, when I’m alone, I’ll just stare off into nothing… and think about ending things.” But that, his final move, the one that made your lips fall apart and your mind race with the repercussions of saying no to him; that was a lie.

“Dean, what you’re confiding in me is very serious. You’ve just described you’re having suicidal ideations.” He knew that, and he knew that it was wrong, but it was justified.

“Will you help me?”

Of course you would. And you did.

You gave him your business card, embossed with your full name in an elegant font, and the information on your private practice. You told him to call and set in an appointment, that you would make sure to vacate a date for him sooner than later, but that it might still take a couple of days. Apparently, you were very successful at your job.

He googled you to, you know, research the case.

A bunch of pictures of you came up and a few articles on your work as well. You used to wear braces when you were younger and your hair was different, but still the same sparkle in your eyes.

Your Facebook page was abandoned and your professional Instagram had almost no photos of you altogether. He really wished he could see what you posted in your personal account, but it was private. He didn’t believe that it would be a good idea to create a profile just to send you a request, he didn’t want you to think that he was some sort of stalker, after all.

But the articles on you were interesting, you seemed to be outright celebrated in your field. People would travel all over Michigan just for your expertise.

You had graduated from college with accolades and written two books that had been published and sold pretty well. One was about Histrionic Personality Disorder, it was a very thick book and students would write papers on it. The other was a self-help book about dealing with loss, and the inspiration behind that one was the death of both of your parents due to a fatal car accident.

Dean couldn't imagine you as an orphan filled with trauma and heartache, you were so well-adjusted and joyful. He had always thought that you had this big, happy family with whom you’d spend the holidays every year. A huge pool of friends that rallied around you all of the time, because who wouldn't?

You were like the sun, and everyone close to you was just lucky to be in your orbit.

So he couldn't comprehend why on earth you’d choose to live in that godawful building that, as far as you knew, had a faulty heating system and a mice infestation. It wasn’t situated in a particularly nice neighborhood, either, from what he had scoped out from the place.

It hadn’t taken long for him to find your address, it was actually alarming just how easy it had been. He would take off from work early, park his stupid minivan across your street, and simply watch. The big glass windows of your house gave him lots to see.

You had a structured routine that he had committed to memory.

You woke up every day at the same time, read your emails first thing and only then you’d have breakfast. You’d put food in your cat’s and Loki’s bowl before getting in the shower. You didn’t tend to take long before leaving for work. When you’d return home, however, varied, depending on how busy your office was.

And that was the perfect opportunity for Dean to go in and inspect the area firsthand.

He shouldn’t do it, he knew that.

He knew, but still, his body kept moving, crossing the street and walking into your building. Getting in the elevator and pressing your floor number. Going up to your front door and picking the lock till it opened.

It wasn't like he had never had to break into places on a hunt before. Because that’s what he told himself, that he was on a hunt.

It didn’t matter how personal it felt.

It didn’t matter that the first thing he did after stepping in was to inhale the smell of the living room because it was saturated in your perfume.

It didn’t matter that he spent nearly ten full minutes contemplating the framed portraits on your walls, the old family pictures that you kept so that you could hold on to those happier moments when they were all in your life still; he did the same.

It didn’t matter that he stood in front of your bedroom door and hesitated to cross the threshold because it felt like it meant something.

And once he was in, it didn’t matter that he stayed for many hours, running his fingers through your bedsheets with a longing feeling in the back of his mind, or combing through your belongings inside the nightstand and in the closet, finding little mementos that he took with him.

A delicate necklace with a shimmering pendant attached to its chain. A bottle of body lotion that had a fresh, clean scent. One of your panties, made of off-white lace fabric, the type one might wear on their wedding night.

That wasn’t wrong, per se. Maybe a little strange, but he wasn’t hurting anybody.

He just wanted a few of your things, as keepsakes. To be fair, it was the least you could do, since everything he was doing was to protect you.

All things considered, Dean thought that you should be grateful, ‘cause when he pulled out his EMF meter, the thing lit up like a Christmas tree.

You definitely had a ghost, perhaps more than one. The whole apartment was getting a high reading, but the bathroom was where it was most concentrated. He would have to look further into that, but seeing that the spirit had already had ample opportunity to hurt you and didn’t, he believed that it would be ok to leave for the day, predominantly because, at that point, you could come back home at any minute.

That was three days ago, and since then he had developed a structured routine of his own.

He would wake up at the crack of dawn, surprisingly energized. Go about his daily tasks as usual, avoiding Lisa and her suspicious looks. Park across your street and watch you through your windows as you moved along your space, completely unconcerned. After you left, he would follow you to work, just to make sure you got there safely. Then, he was off to the library, researching the history of your building and any past deaths that may have happened there.

Lo and behold, there were, in fact, multiple deaths.

All males, of different ages and backgrounds. They would just appear dead by drowning in the bathtub and the police concluded they were all suicides. They were all lonely guys who rented the place by themselves, it made sense.

So clearly the ghost had a particular M.O. and stuck to it, because ever since you moved in, seven years ago, there were no more reported ‘suicides’. It was probably stuck to your apartment, specifically, but it didn’t go after women, which was reassuring.

But how it had all started was the important part.

The first person found dead in the place, the very first case of suicide that began the spree, wasn’t a man, but a young woman; Judith McCook, barely twenty-three when she met her demise.

Her family had given an interview to the local newspaper about the tragedy and they couldn't believe their daughter had taken her own life, blaming her passing on her then-boyfriend, who chose not to comment on anything. When Dean made a quick internet search on him, he found that the guy had moved away soon after the whole situation had gone down, and died in a bar fight years later.

So the Winchester had found his ghost. Poor Judith had died a horrible death and became a vengeful spirit, and even if she wasn’t a threat to you, it was still his duty to send her packing.

Problem was, she had been cremated, so there was no body to salt and burn. Which meant that Dean would have to go back to your apartment and look for an object that she might be tied to. He was planning on doing it today, but that was before he received a call about a spot opening up on your schedule and the possibility of his session being moved up, if he so desired. And after three entire days of not seeing you, at least not to your knowledge, he did desire it.

“Come in.” Your words brought him back to the present, calling him to enter after he had knocked on the door. “Please take a seat, anywhere you’d like.” You told him once he set foot into your office.

The room was different than what he had imagined. It had high ceilings and big windows that allowed the sun to shine through. There was a desk in the left corner, with many books and pieces of paper organized on top. There were framed diplomas and awards hanging on the walls, painted a light tone of beige. In the middle of the room, there was a leather armchair, which was where you were seated. In front of you was a big couch with soft-looking fabric cushions. And on the right corner, there was a beanbag on the floor and a chair by its side.

Considering his options, he decided to sit on the couch in front of you.

“Hi, Dean, how are you?”

You had your hair up and a pair of glasses on your face, not the thin-framed kind that he had previously pictured, but rounded and well-fitted for you. You were wearing a blazer and pleated pants, a notepad resting on your thighs, and a pen in your right hand. You looked beautiful and intimidating at the same time.

“I’m okay, all things considered. How are you?” He cracked the knuckles of his fingers again, and you took notice of the gesture before offering him a disarming smile.

“I’m okay myself, thanks for asking. So, should we get started?” You tapped your pen against the notepad on your lap, and he fixed himself on his seat.

“Fire away.” He replied, hoping that you couldn't see right through him.

“Alright, it’s your first session so before we can get down to the nitty gritty I’m going to ask you a few questions about yourself, just so that I can understand your past and we can get to working on your present, how does that sound?” You moved your hands while you spoke, your manicured nails and your pretty rings being the things Dean was trying to focus on.

“Fine.”

“If at any point you feel uncomfortable with my line of questioning you can just ask me to change the subject, and I’ll do so right away.” He had never seen himself in a situation like this. Sure, he was the one who essentially forced you to take him as a patient, but he definitely hadn’t thought this far ahead. “Let’s start from the beginning, then. What was your childhood like?”

“My childhood? Hm…” He could hear his heart beating in his ears. “Well, my mom died when I was four, and my dad didn’t take it very well, you know, losing her? So he sold the house that we lived in and put me and my brother in the car, just traveling, going from city to city.” That was an oversimplification, but it was not like he could tell you the real story.

“Is it safe to assume that you were always the new kid in town, then? Army brat type of thing?” You were effortlessly writing something down as you asked, the sound of the ball pen on the paper resonating in the otherwise silent room.

“Oh, yeah, big time.” He smiled at you and your insightfulness.

“Was it ever isolating, that lifestyle, or you enjoyed it?” Your posture was upright and confident, you were in your element.

“A little bit of both, I think.” He paid attention to your collarbone and your pulse beneath your skin, you were so calm while he was so anxious. Didn’t his presence affect you at all?

“What was your father’s name?” You looked up at him, pen ready for his response.

“John.”

“And your mother’s?”

“Mary.”

“You said that she passed away when you were four, do you have any memories of her?” Your tone wasn’t what he was used to hearing from you, it was clinical, emotionless.

“I do, not many.” He gulped, not exactly enjoying going down this lane.

“And are they very vivid memories or are they blurry, almost like a dream?” There was a photo of you on the day of your graduation on top of your desk, behind you. You were in your cap and gown, the proudest of grins on your lips.

“Blurry.” He kept looking at the photo, trying to visualize how his life would have been if he had gone to university like you did. Like Sam wanted to.

“That’s very common, it’s hard for adult brains to access certain images from childhood, especially from such a young age.”

Would you like him better if he was college educated, if he was a smart-ass that could awe you with his vast intellect? Was that your type?

“Tell me about your father, what was he like?” That made him snap his eyes right back at you.

“My dad?” He asked back so that he had time to rearrange his thoughts, and you simply nodded, unaware of his internal monologue. “My dad… was a hero, my hero. But also, a very complicated guy, with a lot of guilt.” You had a lot to write after that.

“Was he an affectionate man or was he more closed off?” Dean smirked just at the notion of putting ‘John Winchester’ and ‘affectionate’ in the same sentence.

“I’d say more closed off.” That earned another nod from you.

“What was your brother’s name?”

“Sam.” He reclined himself against the sofa’s back, attempting to become settled.

“You told me that your father put you and Sam on the road and that’s how you grew up, why do you think that was his response to your mother’s death?” That was a big question, and the real answer involved demons, angels, and the Devil himself, so instead Dean said:

“I think he lost his purpose, wanted to drown himself into work, and that’s what he did. Taught me and Sam everything I know.” That wasn’t entirely false, right?

“Oh, so all those road trips were work-related.” You ran out of space and had to switch to a blank page in order to write down some more notes. Dean always knew he had a complex family history, but he never thought that he would pay someone to analyze it and transcribe the highlights. But that was before he met you. “And you and your brother were involved in the work?”

“Yeah, my dad wanted us to be prepared, take over the family business one day, which we did after he died.” He explained.

“And what was the family business?” You inquired in the most innocuous way, as if nothing in his reply could shock you, and that was probably true, for most families.

“We hunted down all the things that go bump in the night, the creatures that no one else wants to deal with.” He said without thinking. He could tell it confused you, but he just said it.

Because he was growing tired of lying to you, because he wanted you to know him, the real him. But he couldn't, because the truth would not only scare you, but also not set you free, contrary to what anyone might think.

The truth would make you paranoid, distrusting of everything and everyone. You would see monsters wherever you looked. You’d have nightmares about carnage and gore. And you would live in fear of losing anyone you love or ever loved, because of beasts bigger, stronger, and more powerful than you.

He’d rather you be blissfully ignorant.

“Pest control. My family and I worked on pest control.” That’s what he followed up his last words with.

“I see.” Comprehension flashed across your features, and you were back to diligent note-taking. “Dean, you mentioned the other day that your brother had passed away fairly recently and that had taken a big toll on your mental health, were you two very close?”

“Sam and I…” He didn’t want to have to think about that. “We only had each other in the world, we were always together, and now that he’s…” He didn’t want to finish that phrase. “I feel all alone.” 

“Was he your younger or older brother?” Your eyes filled with empathy, but you kept going.

“Younger.” What was the point?

“By how many years?” It didn’t matter.

“Four.” Sammy was gone.

“I’m going to say something and I want you to correct me if I’m wrong.” You began, and Dean was so not ready for what was to come. “You were raised by a single father who took you and your little brother all across the country, going from one place to the next, never having a solid foundation to stand upon. I believe that you and Sam tried to be each other’s foundation, since you didn’t receive that from your primary caregiver. And ever since he passed, you feel a sense of helplessness. It’s almost like if you are not taking care of him you don’t know what to do with yourself. Am I right?”

Damn, you’re a good psychologist.

“You’re not wrong.” You cracked a lighthearted smile once he responded. He had missed those.

“I want you to know that it gets better. There actually are ways one can go about overcoming the immense hurt that comes from losing a loved one.” You spoke with all the authority that only someone who had personally gone through it could have.

“Did you ever lose someone like that?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to know if you would open up to him like he opened up to you.

“I have.” It was all you gave him, showing clear signs that you did not want to get into it, but relationships are built on sharing. So he looked right into your eyes and continued.

“Who was it?” You held his gaze, surprised by his persistence.

“My parents, they died when I was still a teenager.” You said as if it didn’t hurt anymore, as if the wounds had closed up and healed. But he knew the scars were still there. “Now, back to you-”

“At least you still have your sister.” He interrupted. Your countenance contorted into bewilderment on how he knew that, and he felt like he had to explain. “You spoke about her once, in the park.”

“Ah.” You seemed to recall. “Yes, I still have my sister, but she’s the only person I have left ever since my brother passed away as well.”

“You had a brother?” He honestly did not know that.

“Yeah, he… He killed himself, seven years ago. Drowned in a bathtub.” You said in a restrained tone.

Realization hit him like a ton of bricks but he couldn't let it show.

So that’s why you lived where you did. You had the money to move, but you wouldn't. Because you wanted to stay close to your brother. Close to where he died.

That wasn’t moving forward, that wasn’t starting a new chapter in your life. That was the complete opposite of what you preached in your self-help book and what you preached to him.

You were just as messed up as he was. You also couldn't let go.

The only difference was that Dean knew what had happened to Sam, where he was, and why he would never come back. You, on the other hand, believed that your brother had opted out. But that wasn’t the case. He had been murdered by a ghost. And that had caused you suffering and torment, so Dean was going to fix it.

He would make it right, not because it was his duty as a hunter. No, that wasn’t the key reason.

He was gonna do it for you.

The watch on your wrist beeped and pulled him out of his considerations.

“Oh, my goodness, Dean, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna have to stop our session here because of time. I didn’t even realize, it went by so fast.” You closed your notepad and got up, smiling graciously at him.

“It really did.” He agreed, getting up from his seat himself.

“Anyways, I shouldn’t have gone on about my family like that, it was inappropriate.” You moved to put your annotations in one of the drawers of your desk.

“Y/N, you can always say whatever’s on your mind when you’re with me, we’re friends.” He walked over to you, trying to reach you, but you took a step back.

“No, we are therapist and patient now.” Your voice was stern and unwavering.

Dean’s heartbeat quickened.

That wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more time with you. Wait, he needed more time with you to work the case and that would in turn help in furthering your relationship with him. He didn’t think that it would make it more restrained, more distant.

“I’ll see you same time next week?” Maybe you would, but he’d make sure to see you way sooner than that.

#spn fanfiction #dean whinchester #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural smut #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #pov dean winchester

[blackbat09]

Hullo :>

Mayhaps can i request something something moss etho arctic bdubs something? They are so dear to me

an interesting challenge! let's set it in Last Life, shall we?

“What the heck a'ya starin' at?” Etho blinks out of his stupor, eyes dropping to Bdubs' face as the red name glowers at him from across the divide of their base. There's a growl in his voice that means - less than nothing, frankly, and he tilts his head slightly to try and see the curve of his base partner's tail, hoping for the U shape of their boogeyman taunting. As much as he'd like to say he knows Bdubs well enough to not need those little hacks and shortcuts, well - Last Life is proving itself challenging in a lot of ways. Etho can cut himself some slack. Bdubs' tail is not in that playful curl, the white fluff lashing as it seems to realize it's being observed. “What, Etho?” Bdubs demands again, drawing his eyes back to his face, the glint of his canines all the more menacing with one simple piece of context. “Spit it out!” “I was looking at your hair,” he admits quickly - not that he's scared of Bdubs, not even as a Red, but he's cautious. Reasonably cautious, really. Anyone would be, splitting a base with someone slavering for blood the way Bdubs is. He'd call him rabid as a joke if it didn't feel like it'd start a fight. “It's, uh - it's been a little while. Since you went your winter color. That because of the fort?” The way Bdubs blinks, reaching up to touch his hair, tells Etho he'd probably forgotten - or maybe not paid any attention to his own hair or fur in the chaos of the game in the first place. It makes sense - Etho doesn't expect him to keep perfect track or anything - but it's still kinda funny, watching Bdubs duck his head beneath his own arm to check that his tail is, in fact, snowy white. “Well, of course!” Bdubs confirms as he straightens up, puffing out his chest and lifting his chin, that fluffy tail held high. “It's a - advantageous! I'm a predator amongst the snow, I need camouflage.” Etho hums in assent, nodding slightly as his eyes move from the tall point of Bdubs' ears to the downright scruffy white shirt he's wearing, bloodstained and torn impressively for the relatively short time Bdubs has been Red. “That why you got rid of your hoodie?” It's a low blow and Etho knows it, from the way Bdubs' mouth drops open slightly, tail falling towards the floor as his eyes dart towards the chest on his side of the base - good to know he still has the hoodie, then. Etho had worried, a little, and he's not really supernaturally connected to free-floating moss, or any other plant, no matter what crap he tries to feed people or lets them just assume. Maybe after more than a few months with the stuff, but, at the moment, he's just a little green around the edges, prefers the company of other plants simply because an environment where they thrive is also probably one good for him. “I mean - yeah? Yeah, a little, but I, uh - ” Bdubs' jaw works a little, mouth still hanging open slightly as he drops from his proud height to a crouch, tilting his head down. “I didn't wanna get it messed up, see? I gotta - I'm Red, Etho. I gotta fight. I can't go - worryin' about screwin' up my hoodie. It's been through enough crap already, an' I like it!” “I could just make you another, back on Hermitcraft,” Etho offers, but Bdubs, ever-stubborn, shakes his head. “No! No, no, I like that one, an' I'm takin' good care of it,” he insists, looking up to search Etho's face for a moment before flashing him a smile. “Besides - I gotta show off this bee-you-teeful winter coat. Can't do that all bundled up in moss.” His body says thank you and I'm sorry in ways his words don't, or maybe can't, with the Red haze over him, and Etho chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Maybe you can't. I can do it all.” You're welcome. It's okay. “Oh, yeah, RIGHT, Etho, as if!”

swap requests are open! (x)

#ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #bdoubleo #last life smp #fanon swap #hermit fanon swap #hc fanon swap #cass answers #my fics #kiwi-smug-silvalina

[callsign-bunnie]

Wow… I always thought you were inclusive to all fans. Guess not.

Spoilers

I tried to be, and I still try to be to MOST fans, but I have limits and I have lines. I know it's probably been obvious, but I've really drawn back from being socially active in the fandom. I take stands, occasionally, but for the most part, I just block and move on. My block list on tiktok is long, because if I don't like content, I block rather than get upset.

I don't really look at my home page, anymore. Going onto AO3 hits me with so many (niche and specific to me) triggers in a day, that my reason for not reading others' works has shifted from, even though I'm working on managing it, my Dyslexia to just being unable to navigate my own triggers. This isn't anyone's fault, it's mine.

If I'm being honest? My mental health is in the dumpster and while this has a wide variety of reasons, if I can protect it in any way I can, I will. And if this includes having to tell a certain group of fans that they're not welcome on my blog? Unfortunately, that's what has to happen.

I'm not a stranger to fandom wars, as stupid as I think they are, I'm not a stranger to the aggression that happens here. And I have, definitely, been on the other side a few times. My first proper introduction to fandom was Supernatural and FNAF. I STILL deal with seeing posts talking about how a ship I didn't ship is superior to one I do ship for no fucking reason. I understand liking a character, and I understand having villain characters that you still like and love, and I can appreciate the "he's my precious pookie bear and does nothing wrong" mindset to a certain extent.

But I think ignoring Makarov's actions, even if he's a fictional character, even if it's just a game, is ignorant, in today's climate. A prime example of why I cannot get behind it is Russian Terminator. I have... so many reasons I can go through why this man is just awful, but my wife is slightly more educated, so I'll let her take the reigns on that one if she wants. However, he sucks. Objectively. But because he's masked and ripped, I see so many edits of him. So many.

I see people call themselves his "simps" and actively ignore and block those who try to point out his horrific actions and opinions and views and values to them. This man is not a fictional character. He's a real person.

I have always been a huge advocate for "live and let live" in fandom spaces. To an extent that even my wife and I get into arguments over it. My only limit seems to be pedophilia, for personal reasons. And I am not telling you to stop writing Makarov. I'm not even telling you not to find him hot. You can giggle and kick your feet when he "activates your praise kink" in the first mission, I don't care I won't stop you.

But I don't want that in my own space. I protect my peace. This ranges from silly things that just bother me (pricegraves) to big things like this. As my wife stated, Graves committed war crimes. Yes. He killed civilians, and that's inexcusable. But, I feel like this is comparing a passion killing, to systematic murder. Graves would have committed those crimes in any country, but the US. France, England, pretty much any country he could have gotten away with it.

Makarov targeted a country of Arabic people, because he knew about the aggression and islamophobia that exists in the west. He knew that if he pulled some strings a little, he could very easily turn a country just looking for peace into a country of terrorists, in the western media's eyes. This is irredeemable in my eyes.

So, no. I try to be inclusive. Pricegraves fans are still welcome to interact with me. They know by now that I won't write it, I don't really entertain it, and to go to my wife. The same for FarahAlex shippers, and really anyone who ships something on my No-Ship list. (Though please get the memo on that second ship, I'm never gonna budge, I'm sorry.)

I'm sorry if you feel alienated, I know it probably sucks. Trust me, I understand. But, unfortunately, I want to protect my peace, and I want my blog to continue to be my own safe space.

Thank you for understanding.

#call of duty #bunnie speaks