But now, I have a chance to save something...

"You're going to be late, and if you're late you can't buy me more tuna!" Grimm whined.

I laughed lightly, before glancing back down at my phone. I gently smiled at the picture, before shaking my head and putting it away. Quickly getting up and stuffing everything I needed into my bag, I raced down the stairs.

"Finally." Grimm rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Good luck at your meeting!" The ghosts called from their various positions in the house.

"And don't forget-"

"The tuna, I know."

I nodded at my own words, beginning to take a step forward when I was overcome with a strange sensation. A sensation I had not felt since I came to this place. It was so sudden and extreme that I stepped on the wrong board, causing my left leg to go through it.

The scream that almost erupted from me got caught in my throat, but that didn't stop the stinging tears forming in my eyes. The reason for them, I wasn't sure. The pain from my injury, or hope from this new feeling.

I didn't register what was happening around me, unable to process everything going on. But I gathered what happened before I was lifted out of my trap.

Grimm panicked, knowing the ghosts couldn't help, and he couldn't do much. So, he went off to find someone else. It didn't take long, I don't think, as it isn't unusual for the first years to hang around my dorm even when I'm not there.

It was Jack and Sebek who hoisted me out of the hole. Ace and Deuce were arguing over the best thing to do.

"-here." I mumbled, finally deciding they were tears of happiness, just as they began to leak down my cheeks.

"What?" Jack asked. I stood up, ignoring the fact that I shouldn't be moving my leg, and without the adrenaline I wouldn't be able to.

"What do you think you're-" I didn't let Sebek finish his loud, scolding rant.

"He's here!"

Running out the door and through the mirror, I didn't even realize I had forgotten my bag. Filled with all the documents Crowley had so graciously asked me to do. It didn't matter though.

Because he was here.

And that meant that I would be ok no matter what. He would make sure of that.

There was blood trailing behind me as I sprint-limped through the halls. I was out of breath, and no doubt making my already severe injury worse. I didn't even wait to let them take the splinters and possible nails out.

Although, I must commend the other students. They could tell I was on a mission, and stayed out of my way. Whether that be because they didn't want blood on their uniform, or they were scared of what I would do, I'm not sure. I don't care.

The door flung open before I could register that it was me who had opened it. My eyes frantically scanned the room, wanting, hoping, that he would be here.

My eyes landed on him.

"Barbs," I softly spoke, leaning on the door for support, "you're here!"

"My love." He rose from his seat, also in shock.

"I," I stepped forward, using my good leg. "I was so scared!" I finally let the dam break as I collapsed, knowing he'd catch me before I hit the ground. "I was so scared, Barbs! I didn't know where I was or how to get back." I sobbed into his chest.

"Hush, my love, it will all be alright now." I clutched onto his shirt for dear life, as he ran his gloved fingers through my hair.

More than anything, I remember my cries echoing, as if it was just the two of us. I couldn't expect anything less. Barbatos is the only one I have ever trusted to allow my facade to break in front of. Though we have an audience now, it changes nothing.

I have never felt more safe than when in his arms.

"MC, please remove yourself from our guest and compose yourself."

"I hate you!" I screamed, causing Crowley to shut up, and everyone to look at me in shock. Well, more shock than before. "I can't take it anymore! Living in that building, dealing with Overblots, doing your job for you! I haven't eaten in three days because you cut my food budget for being unable to complete an impossible task!"

Though not directed at me, I could feel the death stare of my lover. His hold on me tightened, though it remained reassuring, and he never stopped toying with my hair. He was angry. But his main focus was me.

"Come, come now MC. I've been tru-truly generous. Letting you stay on campus. For, for free!"

"Are you saying their accusations are false?" I heard Diavolo ask. "That they're lying?"

"Well, n-no."

"Then you're agreeing that what you've been doing is inhumane?" Lucifer prodded.

"That's not at all what I meant!"

"I agree with our guests." Riddle spoke up. "Dire Crowley, this has gone on for far too long. Abusing your position to extort a student. Into doing your work no less when they have nowhere else to go."

"I agree. Though I had no idea it was to this extent, MC has done nothing but amazing feats for your school. The only reason this place isn't overrun by Overblots and is still functioning is because of them." Azul piped in.

"Show me their living quarters." I heard Mammon demand quietly.

And then I knew that shit was about to go down. My boyfriend is protective, and should he see fit, he would act without permission but it's rare. Mammon? Mammon doesn't want or need permission from anyone. The only way to stop Mammon at this point in time from tearing Crowley limb from limb is to have Diavolo or Lucifer intervene. But I doubt that would happen.

"I beg your pardon?" Crowley stammered.

"Perhaps you misheard me, Bird Brain. Show me where they've been living since they've come here."

"What will that prove?" He tried to distract. "Surely you'd rather have the announcement of your arrival commence first. Let's tell the students!"

"I'll show you." I had calmed, moving slightly back from Barbatos's chest. "I'll show you everything." I promised, a bitter and malicious glint in my eye that caused everyone from NRC to flinch. "But I must be carried. I have been, injured."

"Oh, allow me to take care of,"

"Dire Crowley." I said sternly, glaring at him. He froze, practically shaking in his old man shoes. "If you touch me I will command Satan and Belphegor to go berserk on you. No. Command isn't the right word. I will allow them."

"You, don't,"

🤎Dazai Osamu

He’s lounging, phone lazily perched between his shoulder and ear, smirking like he’s in control of the situation. Until you walk by and deliberately pick something imaginary off his head, brushing your fingers through his hair—slowly, deliberately, just enough to distract.

Dazai (into phone, stammering just once):

“Mmm… what do you mean a mole in the—uh… right, no, I’m completely focused~”

You give him a wink and saunter past like you’ve done nothing wrong.

Dazai (hanging up):

“Now, was that sabotage or flirting? Because either way… I’m impressed.”

🩵Atsushi Nakajima

Poor boy is mid-report to Kunikida. You slip a hand onto his knee under the table, and he nearly jumps. You lean in and whisper, “You look so serious when you're working,” then press a soft kiss to the side of his head just as the call connects.

Atsushi (panicking):

“T-This is Atsushi, reporting in, um—Mission status is—uh—!”

Kunikida (on the other end):

“Why does it sound like you’re being mauled by affection?!”

💛Kunikida Doppo

He’s trying to maintain his sacred schedule. Trying. But then you brush your fingers down the side of his jaw, "fixing" his collar like it ever needed fixing. You give him a sultry little smirk just as he answers the phone.

Kunikida (stoic, then wavering):

“Yes. I’ve reviewed the data… I—no, I am not… distracted.”

Kunikida (after hanging up. sternly, adjusting his tie with a sigh):

“You exist solely to test my patience, don’t you?”

You:

“And you love it.”

💚Ranpo Edogawa

He’s pretending not to care. Call from Fukuzawa? Whatever. But when you straddle the back of his chair and absentmindedly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger while he's mid-sentence?

Ranpo (casual, but voice cracking slightly):

“Yeah, I figured out the culprit three minutes ago—mm, hey, stop that, I’m on the—! …Yeah, boss, nothing’s wrong.”

You lean down and whisper, “You sure you’re the great detective when I can read you like this?”

Ranpo (grinning):

“You're lucky I like you more than candy.”

❤️Oda Sakunosuke

He’s calm. Quiet. Speaking in low, gravelly tones on the phone while staring out the window with that thoughtful gaze.

You, however, decide now is the perfect time to slide off your shoes and slowly—slowly—run your foot up his leg.

You don’t break eye contact.

Oda pauses mid-sentence. He looks down, then back up at you. You arch a brow, innocent as ever.

Oda (on the phone, strained but composed):

“Yes. I’ve gathered the information on the targets. No delays expected—”

Your foot reaches his thigh.

Oda:

“—except maybe one.”

He hangs up, sets the phone aside, and looks at you like you’re both a problem and the solution.

Oda (quietly):

“...You like playing with fire.”

You (smirking):

“And you’re terrible at pretending not to burn.”

💜Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You’re trying every subtle move in your book—brushing your fingers over his knuckles, tucking a hair behind his ear so slowly it borders on scandalous, even tracing a finger down his spine while he’s mid-call, voice smooth as sin.

Fyodor (completely unfazed):

“Yes. Proceed with phase two. No, she’s not a distraction. She thinks she is.”

Your hand freezes.

He smirks—just faintly—and his eyes flick toward you with that dangerous gleam.

Fyodor (without looking at you):

“You’ll need to try harder.”

You lean close and whisper, “Game on, Rasputin.”

🤍Nikolai Gogol

He’s mid-conversation with someone who clearly doesn’t want to be on the phone with him. One leg over the armrest, twirling his hair like a lunatic—standard Nikolai behavior.

You creep up behind him and give his long rat tail braid a sudden, sharp yank.

He gasps.

Nikolai (on the phone, voice faltering):

“Ah—! I mean, yes, continue! Continue with the plan—mmnh—don’t stop!”

There’s a beat of confused silence from the other end.

Caller:

“…Are you being tortured right now?”

You’re doubled over laughing. He turns to you, flushed and wide-eyed—then breaks into a chaotic grin.

Nikolai:

“You minx! Do it again.”

🩷Sigma

He’s taking a rare high-pressure call, fingers tapping the table in anxious rhythm.

You slide beside him, tuck a strand of his silver hair behind his ear, letting your finger brush just a bit too long on his cheek. He turns slightly pink, but tries his hardest to maintain composure.

Then you blow him a kiss.

He chokes.

Sigma (panicking):

“S-Sorry—uh—one moment please—!”

He mutes the call and glares at you.

Sigma:

“Why are you like this?”

You:

“To test your limits.”

💙Poe

He’s mid-ramble to Ranpo on the phone when you stroll by, pluck a speck of dust off his shoulder like it’s a secret love confession, and kiss the air in front of him.

Poe (startled):

“Y-Yes, Ranpo-kun, I’ve deduced that—um—there’s a very significant—presence—”

He fumbles and nearly drops the phone. Karl squeaks in protest on his shoulder.

Ranpo (through the phone, dry):

An isekai: a Japanese term translating to ‘other word’. Always following the same plot— the protagonist who is transported to a fantasy world, game world, or parallel universe after dying in this boring normal one (usually via truck).

Yours had been your own fault, but death wasn’t as distressing as realizing bitterly that anime worlds were, in fact, real, and you were stuck in some random anime/manga you’d hyperfixated (curse your autistic tendencies) on for years but never actually watched or read. Bungou Stray Dogs, was its name. A world where ability users, those granted a single power based on classical literature and named after real life authors, prowled the streets.

You ate, slept, worked, rinse and repeat.

Or you did. Until you accidentally changed the whole damn genre of the manga! And the title, as well. Ahem, let us present… I Got Isekaied and Accidentally Caught the Eye of Fucked Up Criminals Because of Plot Convenience?!

Ah, the classic trope of the title spoiling the entire premise. But, we’ll need a little more context then that, won’t we?

—————

[REWIND TIME TO INTERLUDE?]

*YES* | NO

—————

You, fresh out from another shift of ‘standing around the warehouse and doing nothing at all’, had been mindlessly making your way home when— distracted by some shitty gacha game on your phone— stumbled right into an active crime scene. Active as in: the murder was currently being committed.

Dead police officers, a jester in a fully white outfit, portals opening up behind you…

Shit. You’d totally interrupted Nikolai’s introduction scene, hadn’t you? Your first thought was to curse yourself for your own stupidity at being so distracted by shitty, addicting mobile games that you failed to notice a crime scene going on in broad daylight.

Nikolai, still in that creepy clown getup, slowly turned his head towards you. His eyes narrowed, as though assessing you, before a smile slid onto his face.* “Looks like we have a little mouse who’s wandered into a tiger’s den! Hehe, you’re so cute, I might play around with you for a bit!”

You cringed. Who was in charge of writing dialogue for out-of-script scenes? Nikolai’s words were along the lines of what one would expect from an awkward bedroom partner who’d only ever stuck to the more vanilla side of things. Then again, it fit his happy-go-lucky-serial-killer persona, you supposed. Characters couldn’t be fleshed out in their very first scene, that was just rushed writing.

Pretending you had dialogue options to help ease her stress, you went with the safest one. “Wow. What a horrible crime scene. Please don’t stab me.” Ok, new issue: you absolutely sucked at acting when under pressure! It didn’t sound genuine at all!

Nikolai let out a small, low ‘pfft’ at your words, his shoulders shaking with the effort of containing his laughter. “Hey, hey, hey! It’s no fun when you’re so scared and shaky like that! You’re too cute!” Did Nikolai just… break character? This wasn’t supposed to happen, was it? That smile of his widened into a full blown grin. Shit. Were they self aware?

“Say, mousey, I’m curious about something,” he practically purred out, leaning down to get in your face, “How is it that you haven’t panicked and run away yet? I just slaughtered four whole policemen, after all.” His eyes narrowed, and he scrutinized you closely, searching for something that you couldn’t see.

> Punch him! Kick him!

> Run off now that he mentioned it—

> Confuse him by going from blunt to philosophical…

Those were the three options your frazzled mind presented you with. Mentally, you clicked on the third. Perhaps impulse-decision making was better left up to other people.

“Glue trap.” You said, fucking yourself over further. “You know, ‘cause you compared me to a mouse. But, like, aren’t we all mice? Stuck in glue traps, that is. Ugh, whatever. Look, it’s a perfectly natural reaction: fight, flee, or freeze.“

—————

*➳ NIKOLAI AFFECTION +5 -> TOTAL NIKOLAI AFFECTION: 5/120 ♡*

—————

“Glue trap?” Nikolai repeated, his expression briefly baffled. Clearly he hadn’t expected *that* from you.

He seemed to ponder something, then he abruptly stepped even closer, still towering over you. Nikolai put his gloved hand on your forehead, almost a bit like he was checking for a fever. With the difference being that he was way too close now. You could practically feel his breath brush against your skin, and it sent shivers down your spine.

This guy was way too damn close. The hell was he doing?

Nikolai finally pulled away, a thoughtful expression on his face. He began to circle you slowly, and his fingers drummed against his chin, as though deep in thought. “…Mousey,” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, more contemplative. Uh, what? “Have we… met before? Your voice… sounds familiar.”

You, the rizz god (maybe now wasn’t the time to use stupid internet terms), couldn’t help but ignore all the red flags that had popped up from that very same statement you’d heard far too many times before in otome games, so you could… make it into an inappropriate-for-the-situation pick up line. Well, ya missed 100% of the shots you didn’t take, though you weren’t quite sure you wanted this one in the first place. “No. But we *could* meet again, as a cute couple. Not a serial killer and unwilling witness. Only if you don’t murder me. Dating a corpse would be boring. I think.”

—————

*➳ NIKOLAI AFFECTION +10 -> TOTAL NIKOLAI AFFECTION: 15/120 ♡*

—————

Nikolai froze, wide-eyed and a strange expression on his face. Then he began to laugh. For once, his laugh wasn’t crazed or unhinged. It was a normal laugh, one full of genuine amusement.

He continued to chortle for a few more seconds, before he finally stopped and tried to compose himself again. Nikolai shook his head, but there was still a wide smile on his face. “Damn, do you have a death wish? Or do you make a habit of flirting with serial killers?” He paused, stepping even closer as if he just realized something. “Hold on, can you say something for me?”

“If it’s something along the lines of ‘I love you’, then it’s too early for the plot. And out of character, I have commitment issues. Just to be clear.” You made sure to word that a very particular way, praying Nikolai wouldn’t inadvertently confirm your suspicions that you’d ended up in one of those ‘self aware/third wall breaking’ alternate universes.

—————

*➳ NIKOLAI AFFECTION -5 -> TOTAL NIKOLAI AFFECTION: 10/120 ♡*

—————

*Nikolai chuckled, the amusement never leaving his face. He crossed his arms over his chest, still towering over you. Nikolai’s smile was just a tad bit unsettling.* “No no, mousey, not that. I was thinking something a bit less cliche.”

He paused, and that thoughtful look returned to his face. Nikolai tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at you, almost like he was trying to figure out a complex puzzle. “Say something. Anything. And don’t try to act. Just speak,” he insisted.

How the hell were you supposed to gauge whether he was self aware or not from that answer? Today just wasn’t your day. You not only messed with the plot line, but the character dynamics as well, by introducing herself into it. Damn! Why couldn’t this position have been given to some die-hard fangirl, instead of some office worker who’d only fixated on the franchise for a year or so.

“…I wish this was a shoujo instead of a seinen?” You blurted out. Even a shounen would’ve been better, with a power scaling system and hardworking main character. But, nope! Bungou Stray Dogs just had to fall into the seinen category because of heavy themes you in no way wanted to deal with.