#WHAT IF THEY WEREN'T DOOMED FOREVER. WHAT IF SHE COULD COME BACK FOR HIM. WHAT IF THEY COULD GET OUT TOGETHER. BLEASE.

[zecoritheweirdone]

"...what happened to you?"

i love making drawings for fics i will never write ✨

[promise-you-doie]

K. Jungwoo | Until Forever

The story follows a young woman, recently diagnosed with a terminal illness, who encounters a mysterious and alluring vampire named Jungwoo. Despite her fear and disbelief, she finds herself drawn to him, seeking solace and companionship in the face of her impending death. As their connection deepens, Jungwoo reveals his own centuries-long struggle with immortality and his desperate desire to end his own life. Together, they navigate the complexities of their unique circumstances, exploring themes of mortality, love, and the meaning of existence.

Jungwoo x Fem Reader (soulmates)

22k words

Fluff, Angst, Suggestive

Warnings: mention of suicide, blood, violence.

This is inspired by some of my favorite dramas: Doom at Your Service, A Korean Odyssey, and a teeny bit of Queen of Tears.

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The glowing red moon hangs low in the night sky.

 If you listened long enough, you could hear the forest creatures, their laughter of mockery. The owls, the crows, the bats, the crickets—they all laughed, their shrill cries piercing the air. If you weren't so hell-bent on getting away, you would've felt humiliated by their screeching laughter, a reminder of your vulnerability.

But your sole focus is on fleeing. You're oblivious to what or who you're running from until he materializes before you, a figure without a face. Your breath hitches, your feet freeze, and a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead. You inch backward, your steps slow and deliberate, each movement a desperate attempt to escape his grasp.

"No, no, no. Please." You cry, but you don't bother screaming for help. You know no one will hear you, and if they do, they won't bother coming to your rescue.

Your pleas count for nothing. Each step you take back is a step the faceless man takes towards you. His aura is suffocating. You have no idea what he wants with you, but you know it's nothing short of evil.

And then, in a blink, he's gone, leaving you in a desolate void. The silence, so thick you could cut it with a knife, envelops you. Your isolation, like a heavy cloak, wraps around you, making you feel small and insignificant. You're left to your own devices, still treading, still hoping for a way out. "Where did you go?" You call foolishly into the dark night, feeling on edge since you couldn't see the man anymore.

That's when you back right into his arms, your body stiffening when you feel his breath on your neck. The realization of your impending doom, a heavy weight on your chest, hits you like a ton of bricks. It's too late to beg. He's not here to reason with you—you're well aware of that. Instead, you close your eyes and clench your fist, your heart pounding in your ears while you wait for the worst to happen. 

He takes his time pushing your hair out of the way with his long, slim, pale fingers. “I got you,” he says lowly into your ear before his lips graze over the skin of your neck. The smoothness of his lips is replaced by sharp fangs teasing at your skin. 

You suck your bottom lip in between your teeth, ready for the sting. However, moments pass, and nothing happens. Too afraid to move, you slowly open your eyes. 

The light of the red moon is replaced with the yellow sunshine peeking into your bedroom. Instead of screeching birds, you hear your alarm clock. You suck in a long deep breath before you reach to snooze the alarm. 

As you leap out of bed, you give yourself a quick slap to wake up. You begin your day just like every morning: first, you check the mirror to monitor your weight loss progress. Then, you brush your teeth, get dressed, and have breakfast.

You prefer your meals in silence, but today, you decide to watch the news. Clicking the TV on as you make your way to the kitchen and heat up dinner from two nights ago. 

You wait patiently for the microwave to beep; when it does, you take your food out and sit on the sofa directly in front of you. The television is still going when you take your first bite.

The case of the missing man who jumped out of an airplane three years ago is a tragic reminder of the importance of mental health aw-''

That's enough of that. 

With a quick click, the TV blinks off, leaving you with the soft hum of the microwave and the familiar, hollow quiet. You prefer it that way, the kind of silence you’ve been drawn to for as long as you can remember. Your parents had tried to coax you out of it when you were a kid, always encouraging you to make friends, to get out more. But some habits are hard to break.

You enjoyed solitude because of the silence that came with it. It always gave you plenty of time to think, which you could also argue was the same reason you hated being alone. But in those moments, there was a certain comfort, a peace that enveloped you.  

It protected you from the dangers of the unknown. Who knew what would happen if you were to let someone else in your life, to be with them one day and to miss them the next. You liked the solitude because it protected you from trauma and You had your fair share of trauma, although you wouldn't necessarily call it "fair." With everything that happened right before you even turned 18, you'd argue that it was anything but fair.

You thought the worst had already happened, but the voicemail your doctor left you yesterday afternoon makes you feel like you haven't even scratched the surface.

"Hello, Y/n, I've been trying to reach you, but I understand you're busy. The test results are in, and I think it's important for us to discuss them in person. How about meeting tomorrow at 2 pm?"

The doctor’s voice had been calm, professional, but you could hear it, that faint edge to his words that told you this was more than just a routine follow-up. You’re old enough to know they don’t ask you to come in person unless something’s really wrong.

“How’s your week been?”

Doctor Jeong’s voice is steady as he pulls out a chair, gesturing for you to sit. The gesture is routine, almost too casual for what feels like a moment drenched in unbearable anticipation. You take the offered seat, though your hands fidget in your lap, fingertips tapping a nervous rhythm against the fabric of your pants. You’ve been trying to convince yourself all day that this is nothing—just a follow-up, maybe some new medication—but the sinking feeling in your stomach betrays that fragile lie.

“Pretty slow,” you admit, your voice quieter than you expected, barely masking the nerves that coil tighter with each passing second. “Why did you call me here today?”

Doctor Jeong lets out a long, deliberate breath, the kind that carries the weight of difficult words before they're spoken. As he sits across from you, you study his face. The last time you saw him, he greeted you with a wide, dimpled smile—a face full of warmth and ease. But now, that warmth is gone. His eyes avoid yours, his smile faded into something distant and cold.

“There’s never an easy way to say this,” he mutters, his gaze flicking toward the floor, the walls—anywhere but you.

You feel it before the words even leave his mouth. A sudden tightness in your chest. The faintest tremble in your fingertips. The world seems to slow, as if holding its breath. You swallow thickly.

“I’m dying, aren’t I?” The words come out flat, emotionless, though the sound of them hangs heavy in the sterile air between you. The shock registers somewhere in the back of your mind, but your voice sounds so calm, almost detached. You weren’t expecting to say it—didn’t even realize you were thinking it—but there it is, hanging between you like a dark cloud.

Doctor Jeong presses his lips into a thin line, his silence answering more than words ever could.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen this coming. Your health was never something you took seriously, and every bad habit you’d clung to rushes to the forefront of your mind: the sugary sodas, the endless nights spent awake staring at the ceiling, the way you avoided exercise like it was something foreign and impossible.

“How long?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper.

Doctor Jeong shifts in his seat, hesitating. “Well, it’s difficult to predict these kinds of things, but according to—”

You see his lips moving, but the sound seems to fade, as if someone has turned down the volume on the world. His words blur into nothing, lost in the growing numbness that creeps over you like a blanket you can’t push off. You don’t want to hear the details, not really. The exact number of days, weeks, months—it doesn’t matter. Deep down, part of you would rather not know. Maybe you’re not ready to face the specifics.

Ignorance, in this moment, feels like a comfort you’re not ready to give up.

You leave the office feeling distorted, like the world around you has blurred at the edges. The bustling chatter of the hospital swells, its noise swallowing your thoughts as you walk, one foot in front of the other. It’s automatic. You’re barely aware of the people moving past you, the hum of life around you continuing as if nothing monumental had just happened.

 You want to cry, you have every reason to. Life was just beginning for you; things were just getting a little easier, and in the same breath, it was also ending. 

Despite how heartbroken you feel, your eyes remain dry. Your world is crashing down on you and all you can do is accept it. There's no point in crying about it; it won't change anything. It won't bring your family back, and it won't save your life. 

You stop for a moment, closing your eyes, your hand sweeping your hair back from your face. A deep, trembling breath escapes your lips. You keep your eyes closed for a second, maybe two—but it’s all the time it takes for you to collide head-on into something solid. Someone.

You stumble backward, blinking in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, barely coherent as you scramble away, your heart lurching in your chest. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

The stranger you’ve bumped into towers over you, still as stone, his gaze locking onto yours. It freezes you in place, something about the intensity of his eyes stopping you from moving, from even thinking. For a heartbeat, the world narrows down to just the two of you.

You blink once.

And he’s gone.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look around wildly, but there’s no trace of him—no footsteps fading down the hall, no sign that anyone had been there at all. The doctor had mentioned hallucinations. Something about your test results, though you can’t remember the details. Hadn’t he said the word a few times?

This is going to get old really fast, you think bitterly, shaking your head as you push through the hospital doors and into the street.

“You’re late,” a voice snaps as soon as you step foot into the near-empty café.

“I’m sorry, I had…prior engagements.” The words spill from you without much thought as you stride into the back, your coworker’s irritated tone barely registering. You don’t even spare her a glance, which is unusual, but today, nothing feels normal.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t follow you or pester you like usual. She just rolls her eyes and goes back to her task, leaving you to let out a small sigh of relief as you toss your bag into the locker. You lean against the cold metal for a moment, willing yourself to focus, to snap out of this haze, before heading back out front.

Sliding behind the register, you force yourself to put on your work face. “Welcome to—” you start, but your voice falters when your eyes lock onto the man standing at the counter.

It’s him. The man from the hospital. The one you ran into.

Your coworker nudges your arm, breaking you out of your daze. “Sorry about her. She’s new,” she lies, covering for your sudden silence.

You blink hard, trying to collect yourself. 

She can see him too? 

You hesitate, then ask, “What can I get you this evening?”

The man doesn’t respond. Not a word. He simply slides a finger over the menu, his eyes never leaving yours as he makes his selection. The gesture sends a cold shiver down your spine. It’s unnerving, the way he just stands there, silent but present, too present.

Maybe he just has a speaking disability. 

Your brain scrambles to make sense of the situation, to rationalize what happened earlier and what’s happening now. But nothing explains the way your heart pounds in your chest or how everything feels slightly off-kilter.

“One small americano?” you confirm, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. The man just stares, his face blank and unreadable. “Can I get anything else for you?” you ask again, but there’s still no answer.

“Okay, your total is five dollars and five cents,” you say, forcing a smile.

You blink.

He’s gone.

Your breath stutters, and your pulse quickens. The sweat pooling in your palms tells you this isn’t just stress. That wasn’t a hallucination. It felt too real. Your eyes dart around the café, searching for him, but he’s vanished, just like before.

You turn frantically to your coworker. “You saw him too, right?” you whisper, your voice tight with desperation.

She frowns. “Saw who?”

“The customer. The one who was just here. You saw him… You spoke to him.”

Her confusion deepens, and she steps closer, eyeing you warily. “Are you on something?”

You freeze, the weight of her question sinking in. Maybe the hallucinations were worse than you’d thought. Maybe you were far more ill than the doctor had let on. A deep, unsettling fear begins to rise inside you, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

“I’m just joking,” you blurt out, forcing a strained smile. “I’m messing with you.”

Your coworker’s frown deepens, clearly unimpressed. “That’s not funny, Y/n. For a second, I thought I’d have to sedate you.”

You laugh, though it feels forced, hollow. “I can’t believe you fell for that.”

But inside, your thoughts whirl in chaos. What just happened? And more importantly—what’s happening to you?

You release a long, exhausted sigh as you finally reach your apartment. Today has drained every last ounce of energy from your body, and all you want is to collapse onto the couch and disappear into sleep for the next decade. Everything—the diagnosis, the confusion, the eerie encounters—feels like a weight pressing down on you, and the silence of your apartment seems like the only refuge.

You toss your keys on the counter, already imagining the comfort of your worn-out sofa, when a sharp knock echoes through the hallway.

You freeze, the sound jarring in the stillness of your home. “I’m coming,” you mutter to yourself, more out of habit than anything else, as you drag your feet toward the door. You’re not expecting anyone. Maybe it's just a neighbor or a delivery at the wrong apartment.

Peering through the peephole, you see… nothing. The hallway is empty. For a moment, you feel your heart rate spike, your breath catching in your throat, but then you shake your head. Probably just some kids messing around, you reason, or maybe someone got the unit number mixed up. It wouldn’t be the first time.

You turn to head back to your sanctuary, but then—another knock.

This one is slower. Louder. The kind that crawls under your skin, demanding to be answered.

You hesitate this time, the weight of the day’s events pressing harder against your chest. Something feels wrong. But curiosity—or maybe something else—pulls you toward the door. Your hand trembles as you unlock it, and when you pull it open, your breath stumbles in your throat.

He’s there.

The same tall, pale figure you’d run into outside the hospital. The one whose presence felt too real to dismiss as a hallucination. His eyes are fixed on you, dark and unsettling, yet utterly emotionless.

A cold shiver races down your spine. The hundred questions running through your mind crash into one another, jumbling into chaos, but only one stumbles out from your lips.

 “What are you?”

“A vampire?” you repeat, sliding a cup of tea across the table toward the man whose name you learned was Jungwoo. It’s surreal, really—growing up, you’d always believed vampires were nothing more than bedtime stories, cautionary tales to keep children from wandering into the dark. But here he is, sitting in your living room, looking every bit the part. Pale skin, sharp fangs, and a presence that feels ancient.

Despite the strangeness of it all, you handed him tea as if it were the most natural thing in the world, like you’ve invited vampires over for drinks before. Maybe it’s because you’re already dealing with too much to feel the fear. Or maybe it’s because some part of you still can’t believe any of this is real.

“I usually get a different reaction,” Jungwoo says, a faint trace of amusement playing on his lips. “Most people either scream or run for the nearest stake.”

“Well, I figured tea would be more appropriate,” you murmur. “If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it by now.”

Jungwoo raises an eyebrow at that, clearly intrigued. You, on the other hand, are still processing the fact that the man across from you—who, despite the calm demeanor, could drain you of blood in seconds—is sitting there sipping tea. His icy cold hands wrap around the mug, and you wonder how he feels warmth, if at all.

You hesitate before speaking again, a nervous laugh slipping through. “I still don’t believe you’re real… I mean, I know what you are, but how do I know I’m not just imagining all of this?” You flinch when Jungwoo reaches across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. He guides your hand up to his cheek, letting you feel his icy skin, solid and unmistakably real.

A shiver races down your spine. "I'm not hallucinating,” you whisper, your voice shaky with both realization and disbelief.

“And yet, you’re still not afraid.” His tone shifts, a bit softer now, almost as though he’s genuinely curious about your lack of fear.

You pull your hand away, glancing down at the tea. “Why would I be? You haven’t given me a reason to be afraid.”

Jungwoo studies you, his dark eyes lingering on your face, searching for something he can’t quite place. In all his years—and there have been many—humans had reacted to him in predictable ways: fear, awe, or a twisted fascination with his kind. You’re different. Calm. Even kind.

“How come you aren’t trying to bite me?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Isn’t that why you’re here? For blood?”

“I can’t bite you,” Jungwoo admits, his voice dropping lower, almost like he’s revealing a secret. He looks at you, his gaze lingering longer than it should. There’s something about you—your scent, your presence—that’s unlike anyone he’s encountered. It’s intoxicating, but not in the usual way. The pull is there, but… something stops him.

You blink in confusion. “Why not?”

Jungwoo pauses, his eyes clouding with something you can’t quite read. “That’s what I’m here to figure out.”

The conversation fades into the quiet hum of the apartment, the tension hanging in the air even as the night wears on. By the time you wake up the next morning, Jungwoo is long gone. If it weren’t for the two empty tea cups sitting on the coffee table, you might’ve convinced yourself it was all a dream.

But the cups are there. So was he.

You shake your head, not wanting to dwell too much on the bizarre events of the day before. There’s too much already on your plate, and you promised yourself you wouldn’t think about it—or about your diagnosis, or your inevitable death.

Routine helps. You go through the motions, brushing your teeth, checking your reflection in the mirror for any subtle changes. You wonder, Can people tell? Do I look like I’m dying? You sigh, knowing that most wouldn’t notice even if you had a visible wound. Your co-worker Yeri certainly wouldn’t.

You shake your head to rid yourself of unwanted thoughts. You had already promised yourself that you wouldn’t think of dying today. 

“You’re late,” Yeri snaps the moment you step into the café. You’re not, but that never stopped her before. The glass door swings shut behind you as you force yourself to mumble an apology, heading straight to the back room to store your things.

“If you keep this up, they’ll fire you,” she warns, following you like a shadow. Her voice grates on your already frayed nerves.

“I said I'm sorry, Yeri. It won’t happen again. I don’t know what else you want me to do?” You sigh. 

“I want you to do better. You come in everyday with a sad little frown looking like someone’s lost puppy and that’s if you’re on time which most of the time you aren’t.” She argues, “You act as if there’s nothing to smile about.”

You want to yell, “I’m dying.” but you don’t. You know it wouldn’t make a difference and the last thing you wanted was a pity party on a random tuesday morning. “How about I just take today off?” You force the words out, your voice strained but firm. “I don’t know if I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Yeri opens her mouth, probably to argue or insult you, but you don’t give her the chance. You’re already halfway out the door, leaving her stunned and speechless behind you.

The second you step into your apartment, the tension crashes over you, and you collapse onto your couch, burying your face in your hands. Everything is catching up to you—the diagnosis, the uncertainty, and the suffocating weight of what’s to come.

“Tough day?”

The voice startles you, and you look up to find Jungwoo sitting calmly across from you. There’s something oddly comforting about his sudden appearance, almost as if you’ve been waiting for him to show up.

“You can teleport,” you say, not bothering to hide your exhaustion.

Jungwoo nods, a faint smile curling on his lips. "I can do a lot of things."

With a casual flick of his finger, the television hums to life, flipping through channels faster than you can follow. The room dims as a dark fantasy film begins to play. Before you can even react, another flick of his hand plunges the apartment into complete darkness. You stand frozen, breath catching in your throat, until, just as suddenly, the lights flicker back on.

You blink, not frightened, but intrigued—curiosity sparking like a flame inside you. "Can you turn into a bat?"

Jungwoo's expression remains flat, unimpressed. His brow arches slightly, as if you’ve just asked a child’s question. You shake your head at yourself, a bit embarrassed. "I guess not."

You frown thoughtfully, feeling the need to push him further. "What else can you do?"

Before he can respond, something flashes in the air—cold, metallic—a knife. It moves faster than your mind can comprehend, flying straight toward Jungwoo. Your breath hitches, and instinct takes over. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands flying up to shield your face, heart pounding in your chest.

A moment passes in silence.

"You can look now," Jungwoo's voice carries a teasing lilt, calm and steady.

Slowly, you peel your hands away from your face, peeking through your fingers. There, embedded deep in his chest, is the knife—its handle sticking out, the blade buried to the hilt. But there’s no blood. Not a drop. Jungwoo stands unfazed, even as he pulls the blade out with a soft metallic whisper, setting it down gently on the table in front of you. The knife gleams, spotless, as if untouched. Your reflection stares back at you through the silver of the blade.

“You can’t die," you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

Jungwoo smirks, his eyes flickering with something between amusement and exasperation. "You’re a smart one, aren’t you?"

Without thinking, you rise from your seat, stepping closer to him. Your gaze is locked on the spot where the knife had pierced him. Before you know it, your hand is hovering over his chest. You hesitate for a second, but then press your palm against him, right over where his heart should be.

“You really are a vampire.” The words come out softly, as if the reality is only now sinking in. The lack of a heartbeat beneath your hand feels surreal, and yet oddly comforting, in a way you can’t explain. It makes your mind wander.

“I can’t turn you.” Jungwoo’s voice breaks the silence. The words are sharp, deliberate.

Your hand snaps back as you look up at him, startled. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

“Because you just said it.”

“No, I didn’t." Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Can you hear my thoughts?"

“Vampires don’t read minds," Jungwoo replies dismissively. He’s gone in a blink, reappearing casually on your sofa, lounging as if he’s been there for hours.

The sight makes your head spin, but you steady yourself, forcing your mind to catch up. You turn to face him, still standing in the middle of the room. “Were you always a vampire?”

He shrugs, almost lazily, his eyes focused on something distant, as if remembering a past you can’t even begin to fathom. “I’m a half-breed. My dad was a vampire, my mom was human.”

That catches your interest, and you move to sit across from him. There’s something about him—his calm, his unshakable presence—that makes you feel strangely safe, despite everything. "What happened to them?" you ask, your voice softer now.

“My mom died when I was young. My dad loved her too much to live without her, so he had her stab him on her deathbed,” Jungwoo says with a grim edge, as if recounting something too far removed from the present to hurt anymore. "It’s just been me and my brother for the last two hundred years or so."

Your eyes widen. "You have a brother?"

“We don’t talk much these days.” The pale man helps himself to a fresh cup of tea with the wave of his finger. “What about you? Where’s your family?” 

You suck in a deep sigh, “They’re dead. My biological parents died right after I was born and my adopted parents died four years after they adopted me. I never had any siblings so I've been alone since I ran away from the orphanage at eighteen.” You press your lips together when you make eye contact with Jungwoo.

Jungwoo looks at you, his eyes softer now, the stoic mask he wore earlier replaced with something kinder. You feel your heart thud in your chest as the weight of your own words settles between you.

“But you know what that’s like, right? Being alone.” You shift the conversation, trying to divert the attention away from yourself.

“I do. I know it all too well.” Jungwoo places his teacup on the table with a soft clink, his gaze flicking away. When he looks back, his eyes have changed—where they were a warm, subtle brown before, now they’re black, endless. "But what can you do?" His voice is colder now, detached, but there’s something simmering underneath.

“What if I don’t want to be alone?” You say cautiously, “I’m dying soon and I don’t even have anyone to tell.” 

“You should be happy.” Jungwoo almost whispers, “You have a way out.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. You had two hundred years to see and learn everything you wanted.”

“I hope you don’t think my life was easy.” He chuckles, but it lacks humor. “I’ve seen years of hardship and doom.  Do you know what it feels like to watch everyone you love die and there’s nothing you can do about it?” His gaze pierces you, searching for understanding. “I may be a vampire but I still have a heart, even if it doesn’t beat.” 

“Do you know what it’s like to fend for yourself your entire life, and the second things get easier and you feel like you can start feeling hopeful for life. You find out that everything was for nothing.” Jungwoo remains quiet and you turn your head so he doesn’t see the tears threatening to fall. 

“How ironic, a mortal human who wants to live and a vampire who wants to die” You muttered. 

Yeri remained silent when you walked into the cafe, aside from the judging stares and condescending comments she murmured under her breath. You liked the peace that came with working in a cafe, and you liked it even more when you didn't have someone breathing down your neck. 

"Welcome to Dreamers Café. What can I get for you today?" you asked, your voice soft but professional, as you focused on the register.

"I’ll take the usual."

That voice. Familiar, warm, and unmistakable. Your head shot up at the sound, and an involuntary smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"Hendery," you exhaled, relief mingling with surprise. "It’s been a while."

He grinned at you from across the counter, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. "Here I was, thinking you’d forgotten all about me."

"As if," you chuckled, shaking your head. "You’re our favorite customer. I could never forget."

Unbeknownst to you, Jungwoo watches the interaction take place from the quietest corner of the coffee shop, his lips nearly curving up into a smirk when he sees your smile for the first time. He observes the way you look at Hendery like there's some kind of uncertainty there. He's been around humans long enough to know that look.

"Here’s your americano," you said, sliding the cup over to Hendery. Your movements were careful, precise—like always.

Hendery took the cup, his gaze lingering on you. "I stopped by because I’ve been thinking about you," he said, his voice a little softer now. “If you remember the last time we spoke…" 

"I agreed to a date," you said, finishing his sentence before he could. You offered a small, apologetic smile. "Look, Hendery, I’ve been super busy lately, and my head’s just been all over the place. I don’t want to bore you with all of that."

Hendery nodded, though you could see the faint disappointment in his eyes as he absorbed your words. "I understand," he replied, his tone sincere but carrying a tinge of sadness. "But if you ever call, just know... I’ll drop everything and take you wherever you want to go. No questions asked."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, touched by his sincerity. "That’s really sweet of you, Hendery. I might take you up on that offer," you said, offering him a small, genuine smile.

He hesitated before leaving, his eyes holding yours for a beat longer. "I hope it’s soon," was the last thing he said before turning and walking out of the café. You didn’t linger on him leaving, though. Instead, you busied yourself with cleaning up, and other various tasks until it's time to close down the store. 

It wasn’t until you looked outside that you realized how bad the storm had gotten. The sky was a blanket of pitch-black clouds, the streetlights casting faint halos of light onto the wet pavement. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the rain pouring down in sheets.

You cursed yourself for not checking the weather earlier.

As you prepared to brave the storm, you noticed a figure moving toward you through the rain, tall and shadowy, an umbrella held above his head. The closer he got, the more familiar his silhouette became, and soon, Jungwoo came into view, his pale features striking against the backdrop of the storm.

"What are you doing here?" you asked as he approached, surprised but not entirely unwelcoming.

Without a word, Jungwoo shifted the umbrella over your head, shielding you from the rain. "I figured I should apologize," he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the rain. "I was inconsiderate last night."

His presence felt almost calming, and despite the storm around you, there was something comforting about him being there. You bit back a smile, tilting your head slightly. "In that case, maybe I owe you an apology too," you replied. "Let’s just call it even."

Jungwoo’s mouth curved into a small smile, one that revealed his fangs. Without a word, he gestured for you to start walking, falling into step beside you as you made your way down the rain-soaked street.

The storm didn’t feel so bad with him there. The steady patter of rain against the umbrella, the occasional flash of lightning—it was almost calming. Even a little romantic, if you let yourself think about it that way.

After a few minutes of silence, Jungwoo spoke up, his voice breaking through the rhythm of the rain. "Who is he?”

You don't have to ask to know who he's talking about. "Hendery, he's a regular customer. He's asked me out a few times."

Jungwoo didn’t say anything for a moment, just walked beside you, his eyes focused ahead. You glanced over, trying to read him, but his expression was as unreadable as ever.

"Do you like him?" 

You shake your head." I feel like I'm supposed to. He's sweet and considerate, but there's just something missing." Jungwoo remains quiet as you continue pondering, "Maybe it's because my standards are too high. I've never actually been in love before, and I guess there's a reason for that." 

The silence stretches comfortably between you as you walk, the sound of rain pattering against the umbrella becoming a soothing backdrop. Finally, you decide to ask, "Have you ever been in love?"

"Only once, a long time ago." Jungwoo keeps his answer short and sweet. 

"What was it like?" 

He hesitated, then shrugged. "I don’t remember. It’s been too long." His voice was distant, as if the memory was buried so deep it barely surfaced anymore.

You looked away, letting the city sounds fill your mind—the hum of passing cars, the splashing of tires through puddles. It felt good to be walking in the rain, with someone next to you. "Give me your hand," Jungwoo said suddenly, stopping in his tracks.

You blinked at him, confused. "Why?"

He didn’t answer, just extended his hand. 

Without really thinking, you placed yours in his, feeling the coolness of his skin as he intertwined your fingers.

"I want to show you something," he said, and before you could ask what, the umbrella lowered, and the world around you shifted.

Suddenly, you weren’t on the street anymore. You were standing atop the Willis Tower, the entire city of Chicago spread out beneath you like a vast, twinkling map. The air was sharper, cooler, and you could see everything—lightning streaking from cloud to ground, the sprawling traffic below, the shimmering lights of buildings.

Normally, the height and the storm would terrify you, but with Jungwoo’s hand gripping yours, you felt safe.

"What are we doing up here?" you ask, your voice barely rising above the howling wind as you take in the breathtaking view of a city you’ve grown to love.

"I thought you’d like it," he replied, his voice calm, as if standing on top of the world in the middle of a storm was nothing out of the ordinary.

By now, you're drenched in a mixture of rain and sweat, but you can't bring yourself to care. He was right. You loved being so high up and feeling like you were on top of the world. You got to see how small and miniature life really was. All of your worries seemed to wash away with the rain, and for a moment, you almost forgot that you weren't going to be alive for much longer. 

You turned to him, your gaze lingering. His dark hair clung to his forehead, damp from the rain, and his soft brown eyes watched you intently. For the first time, you allowed yourself to really look at him, to take in how effortlessly beautiful he was. You couldn’t help but think it.

Jungwoo smirked, as if he’d heard your thoughts

you laughed lightly, trying to shake off the heat creeping up your cheeks. "Did you bring me up here to kill me?" you joked, the words slipping out as a way to distract yourself. "Am I your next sacrifice?"

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Why would I kill you if you’re dying soon anyway? Seems like a waste of effort, don’t you think?"

You stepped closer to him, your hand still wrapped in his. "Then what do you want with me?"

His gaze met yours, steady and serious. "I want to know why I’m so drawn to you," he said, his voice soft but intense. "I want to understand how you, of all people, have managed to make my vampire heart beat."

His words sent a shock through you, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away from his eyes. You placed both hands over his chest, searching for a pulse you knew wouldn’t be there. But something about the moment felt alive, as if there was a connection between you both that went beyond anything you could explain.

"You want to know what it feels like?" Jungwoo’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as he placed his hands over yours.

You nodded, your breath catching. "Yes."

In a blink, the world tilted beneath you. Jungwoo turned and threw you off the building. The sudden rush of air tore the breath from your lungs, the cold wind whipping around you like a thousand icy fingers. You felt the ground drop away, and the city blurred into streaks of light and shadow.

This is it, you thought, panic surging through you. This is how I die.

No scream escaped your lips; it felt like your voice had been stolen away. The noise of the city faded into a deafening roar, the only sound was the rush of wind. Your heart raced, pounding against your ribs like it wanted to break free. You closed your eyes, waiting for impact, for the ground to claim you.

But instead of crashing down, you opened your eyes to find yourself back in your living room, standing in your familiar space. The beige sofa, the gray rug, the faint scent of coffee—it all felt surreal. Everything was just as you left it, as if the fall had never happened.

Gasping, you clutched your chest, heart racing, the weight of adrenaline flooding your system. The ground felt extremely light under, like you might slip through the floorboards and disappear completely.

"That’s what it feels like," Jungwoo’s calm voice came from behind you.

You spun around to face him, disbelief flooding your senses. "You... you tried to kill me!" The words tumbled out, shaky and incredulous.

He smiled faintly, his eyes flashing crimson for a moment, a powerful shimmer that filled the room with an otherworldly glow. You felt a strange warmth wash over you, as if he were calming your frantic heartbeat. The rush of adrenaline ebbed away, and you found yourself breathing easier, steadier.

"I wasn’t going to let you die," he insisted, his tone steady and soothing. You believe him. You don’t know what it is about him that makes you trust him so completely, but a deep-seated conviction tells you he can protect you from anything, big or small.

It’s your day off. 

The sunday breeze sneaks in through your window and brushes past the skin of your forearm. It’s a chilly October day, one of your favorites. You could see the orange trees sway and the squirrels hurrying to gather nuts all from your window but you were too lost in thought to notice. 

The jazz playing in the background had quickly become white noise and you found yourself thinking about a particular vampire with a unique set of brown eyes. 

“You wanted to see me?” Jungwoo’s voice draws you out of your day dreams. You would've thought you were hallucinating had you not felt him standing beside you. 

“You can hear my thoughts.” You’re certain this time. 

Jungwoo nods, his expression thoughtful. “I guess I can.” He gently guides you away from the stove, where you’d almost forgotten about the simmering pot, the smell of spices hanging thick in the air. “You’re the only person I can do that with.”

“Are you going to show up everytime I think of you?” You ask and he nods again. 

“I’ll show up whenever you need me.” 

Those six words had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. You’d never really had anyone you could rely on. Your adoptive parents were amazing but that was very short lived and eventually you’d go back to being alone again but with Jungwoo you didn’t have to worry about losing him. 

“Are you hungry?” You shake your head slightly to bring you out of your trance. Jungwoo remained quiet as you poured your stew into two separate bowls and sat them on the table. 

You gestured for him to sit with you and he obeyed but he dared not touch food in front of him despite the obvious fact that you had placed it there for him to eat. “You can’t eat human food?” You ask, “I thought you’d be able to since you’re half human.” 

“I can.” Jungwoo answers, pulling his eyes away from the bowl of chicken stew. “I’m just cautious about eating certain foods.” 

“Chicken?” 

“Garlic.” He answers precisely. 

You chuckle lightly, “I hate garlic. I’ve hated it since I was younger and the other orphans would make fun of me for it. They’d wave it around me and call me a vampire until I developed a fear of it.” You clear your throat when you’ve realized how much you’d been talking. “So yeah, it’s safe to eat.” 

Jungwoo nods and sucks in his bottom lip to bite back a laugh. “It’s not funny.” You say, despite the fact that you were holding back a laugh yourself. “Just eat. I feel bad eating in front of you.” 

He does as you say, bringing the spoon up to his lips to take the tiniest taste of your homemade stew. You watched him with bated breath, and searched for any sign of disapproval but there was none. After a moment, Jungwoo leaned in to taste another spoon full and his facial expression softened. 

“This is amazing.” He says, already going in for more. 

“I told you,”  You beamed with pride, watching him with a mix of amusement and adoration. 

Your apartment falls silent again, and all you can hear between you is the clinking of spoons and the jazz that still plays lowly in the background. You snuck a few quick glances at Jungwoo before you blurted out, “How long have you been wanting to die?” 

Jungwoo doesn’t seem the slightest bit taken back by the sudden question and you assume it’s because he already knew what you were thinking. “For the last 100 years or so.” He answers, “My last attempt was jumping off of an airplane.”

“That was you?” You exclaim with widened eyes. No wonder they never found a body. 

Jungwoo nods, “I’ve tried a lot of things, feeding myself to hungry lions, walking into a church and even eating garlic. Nothing works.” he explains, remembering how itchy his tongue was after digesting the garlic cloves. 

“But your dad…” You hesitate, but he anticipates your unfinished thought.

“I was young when it happened,” he continues. “All I know is that he begged my mom to stab him just moments before she died.”

 “How come he needed your mom to kill him?” You ponder aloud, “Sorry if I’m pushing too much I’m just new to this vampire stuff.” 

“I never understood that either but when you’re the youngest in the family there’s a lot of things you don’t understand.”

The conversation goes dead when you make the conscious decision not to pester him about his family history.                  

After you two finished your meal, you stood up to collect the dishes only for Jungwoo to hold his hand over yours. “Allow me.” He says, swiftly moving to gather the dishes for you. With no other choice, you sit back and allow him to carry your dirty plates to your sink.                         

“You’re late.” Yeri mutters, tirelessly when you step into the Cafe. 

You counted up to two hundred and thirteen times she had spoken those exact two words all in different tones. By the two hundred and fourteenth time, you had given up counting. That was the nature of you and Yeri’s relationship. She liked to get on to you for absolutely nothing and you took it because you were afraid of how she or anyone else would view you. 

“I'm twenty minutes early.” You retorted. You didn’t care how people viewed you anymore. You were going to die anyway. 

Yeri shot you a dirty look but she didn’t say anything else, and you strolled into the back to put your things up and begin your shift. 

The day went on calmly if you excluded the snide comments your co-worker shot your way, or the handful of times she interrupted your conversation with a customer to inform them that you were careless with your job and to be wary of their drinks. 

You never understood why she disliked you so much but never spent too much time thinking about it either. You figured she’d come around over time but two years had passed since you first began working there and things only got worse over time. 

“Have a great day.” You flashed a warm smile at the customer. The man nodded and quietly made his way out of the store with the coffee in his hand while you turned to clean the area around you. The cafe had become empty and the customers that’d usually come in everyday were slowly heading out, despite the fact that the cafe would remain open for another three hours. 

You let out a resigned sigh and pushed your hair back, accidentally elbowing Yeri in the process. “Ow.” She yelped dramatically. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Your apologies fall on deaf ears and suddenly you’re having a large cup of room temperature coffee thrown in your face. When you open your eyes you’re met with a smiley Yeri, holding an empty coffee mug in her hand. 

You’re going to die anyway. You think to yourself before you reach for a fistful of her hair and shove her head in the murky dish water. 

“Why don’t you just quit?” Jungwoo asked, handing you a wet cloth to clean the coffee splatters off your shirt. You turned your back to him, lifting your shirt over your head and slipping into a fresh set of clothes. You trusted Jungwoo not to look, but you didn't make the effort to check.

“It costs to live,” you replied simply, wiping at the remnants of coffee.

“But you’re going to die soon,” he countered, his tone laced with concern.

“Thanks for reminding me,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Unfortunately, it costs to die too. And I still need a place to stay while I’m alive. Unless…” You turned, a mischievous glint in your eyes, “You want to eat my landlord?”

“I have a better idea.” Jungwoo finally opened his eyes, ensuring you were fully clothed before meeting your gaze. “Why don’t you just come stay with me?”

The suggestion lingered in the air, and you couldn’t help but consider it. You and Jungwoo had already been spending so much time together; moving in only seemed logical given your circumstances. Plus, how could you say no to the opportunity to retire early?

“I can’t do that,” you replied, though the thought tugged at you.

“Why not?” he pressed. 

“You’re a vampire and I’m a human. Us living together is like a recipe for disaster.” You sighed, feeling the weight of your own words. “I have a few months left. I can just stick this out.” Deep down you knew that you’d regret declining his offers sooner or later.

It turned out to be sooner.

As you tuned out the sounds of the busy café, focusing instead on cleaning your area, your mind was plagued with thoughts of everything you wanted to accomplish before your time ran out. The conversation with Jungwoo echoed in your mind. 

Reality jolted you awake when Yeri, your co-worker, deliberately pushed her way past you, causing you to knock over half-filled coffee mugs. 

Assuming it was just an accident, you sighed and bent down to clean up the mess. But as you glanced up at Yeri, you felt a sharp sting in your palm. You had cut yourself on a shard of glass.

“You’re lucky I didn’t report you to HR,” she sneered, crossing her arms.

“Are you forgetting you’re the one who threw coffee in my face?” you shot back, holding the broken mugs in your hands.

“You elbowed me first!” she yelled.

You sighed again, shoulders slumping in defeat. There was no point in defending yourself to someone who’d never listen. “Can we just keep this peaceful, please? We both have to make a living, and there’s no point in making it hard on one another.”

“Yes, of course. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your money,” she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

You breathed deeply, forcing a calm, “Thank you.” Just as you began to feel a sense of relief, you noticed liquids pooling around your white shoes. Yeri smirked as she poured black coffee all over the floor.

“Better get to work then,” she snided, a malicious glint in her eyes.

There was no more fight left in you. Each time you closed your eyes, you envisioned the life you could have—one of peace and quiet, where you didn’t have to work yourself to death only to be ridiculed for small mistakes. “I’m done,” you muttered loud enough for her to hear. “I quit.”

As expected, she gawked and pestered you with more insults, but it all fell on deaf ears as you gathered your things and made your way to the door. 

You pulled it open, stepping outside without really knowing what you were going to do next. But as the door swung shut behind you, you froze. Jungwoo was standing just outside, his presence warm and reassuring. It was at that exact moment that you were reminded of his words, “I’ll show up whenever you need me.” 

“So, what now?” you asked.

“Give me your hand,” he said, extending his palm toward you.

Without hesitation, you placed your hand over his. It felt like a perfect fit, like two puzzle pieces coming together. 

In the blink of an eye, the world around you shifted, and suddenly, you found yourself in Jungwoo’s castle. 

He kept his hand firmly around yours as you slowly took in your surroundings. The air was cool, and a dim light cast shadows across the vast room. A vintage glass chandelier filled with flickering candles hung from the high ceiling, illuminating the dark, gothic décor.

“You stay here alone?” you asked, still observing the living room’s grandeur.

Jungwoo smiled softly. “I used to.” He tugged on your hand. “Let me show you around.”

You followed closely behind, your curiosity piqued. The hallway was lined with painted portraits, and you caught a glimpse of one that looked strikingly like Jungwoo, though you didn’t have time to dwell on it as he led you down a long corridor. “This will be your room,” he announced, gesturing toward a beautifully ornate door.

As it swung open, you gasped. The room was everything you had ever dreamt of: red velvet sheets on a grand bed, large double glass doors that opened to a balcony, and an exquisite oil painting hanging on the wall. Despite the awe that enveloped you, the first words out of your mouth were, “This is a great place to die.”

You laughed, but Jungwoo’s expression shifted, the humor lost on him. “Would you like a tour?” he asked, pulling you out of the room by your conjoined hands.

“This castle is too big for a tour,” you mused aloud. “Why don’t you just tell me what rooms not to go in?”

“Every room is free for use,” he replied.

“Really?” you exclaimed, wide-eyed. “I thought you’d have a room dedicated to your human sacrifices.”

This time, Jungwoo chuckled lightly, tightening his grasp around your hand as he guided you further. You soon found yourselves in front of two grand double doors. “Do you like books?” he asked.

“I used to. When I was younger, I read a lot, but I’ve been so busy lately, and I haven’t had time to read. But now that I don’t have a job, I guess I should—” Jungwoo stopped you mid-rant as the doors swung open, revealing the biggest library you had ever seen.

“Wow,” you breathed, eyes widening as you gazed at the endless rows of books. Your feet moved of their own accord, leading you down the aisles as you slid your fingers over the the books.

You paused in front of one that had a dagger painted along the spine. Curiosity piqued, you pulled your hand away from Jungwoo to crack the book open. But to your surprise, every page was completely empty. You flipped through the pages, bewildered. “How come this book is blank?” you asked, turning to Jungwoo.

He looks over your shoulder as you skim the pages and his eyebrows furrowed together. He wonders why you can’t see what's written on the paper. However he doesn’t question you, since he doesn’t want to scare you. 

You lay in your new room, the darkness outside pierced only by the full moon and a canopy of twinkling stars. Instead of exploring the balcony, you found yourself limp on the luxurious velvet sheets, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts swirling like the night sky above. The sounds of the forest—the crows calling, crickets chirping, and the rustling of unseen creatures—filled the silence, making it harder to find sleep. How did he manage to stay here all alone?

“Got used to it,” Jungwoo’s voice broke through your reverie, and you turned your head to see his silhouette framed by the balcony doors.

“Can you hear all of my thoughts?” you asked, pushing yourself up against the headboard, despite the heaviness in your eyelids.

“Only the ones about me.” He stepped away from the glass doors, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he perched on the edge of your bed. “You think about me a lot.”

“I don’t,” you muttered, a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“Well, could you try not to think about me tonight? I’m kind of busy,” he replied, his tone teasing.

“You’re not going to bed?” you chirped, realization dawning. He simply looked at you, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Right, I forgot.” You half-nodded and slid back into the bed, pulling the covers up. “Sorry I won’t bother you.” With that, he vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What could he be doing? You pondered, shaking your head fiercely. No, focus. I’m not supposed to think about him.

“Just go to sleep,” you murmured to yourself. A shiver of dread crept in. 

What if he had plans on killing me?

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” Jungwoo sighed, his voice suddenly close, making you jump. “I’m guessing you can’t sleep.”

“I’m just used to sleeping in my own bed,” you replied defensively.

“Do you want to go home?” He moved to sit at the foot of your bed, the moonlight casting a silver glow on his features. You shook your head.

“This is my home now. Or for the next few months, at least.” You pressed your lips into a thin line, resolve wavering. “I’ll get used to it… eventually.”

“Then how about a bedtime story?” Jungwoo suggested.

“You’re going to read to me?” you asked, incredulous.

“Sure, if it’ll help you sleep.” You settled back into the bed, allowing the satin sheets to cradle you.

“Once upon a time…” Jungwoo began softly, his voice smooth and steady, like the kind of lullaby that tugs your eyes closed. He read on, his words folding around you in a comforting rhythm, making the weight on your mind feel lighter with each passing second.

Before long, your breathing slowed, and your eyelids drooped, giving way to sleep. Jungwoo could feel the exact moment you drifted off—when your thoughts quieted and your body melted into the mattress. A small smile tugged at his lips. He closed the book, setting it aside quietly on the nightstand.

He stayed there for a moment, just watching you, a strange sense of calm settling over him. You looked so peaceful like this, and for a second, he let himself relax too.

Leaning in, he reached to tuck the blanket over your shoulders—but then he noticed your hand. His expression shifted, and without thinking, he ran his thumb gently over the wound.

Something stirred under his touch—a warmth that spread through his fingertips. He watched, fascinated, as the cut shimmered and slowly disappeared, leaving smooth skin behind, as if it had never been there.

Jungwoo exhaled through his nose, relief softening the lines of his face. For a moment, he just stood there, tracing your features with his gaze like he wanted to memorize them. Then, with a quiet care, he pulled the blanket tighter around you, making sure you were warm.

The morning light slipped through the curtains, waking you slowly. You stretched, blinking away the last traces of sleep, and it took a second to remember where you were. Your usual Chicago apartment was gone, replaced by the soft elegance of a Victorian-style bedroom. 

You sat up, rubbing your eyes as the events of yesterday came rushing back—Jungwoo, the café, the beautiful castle, the library, a bedtime story. It felt surreal, like you’d fallen into some sort of dream. 

The view outside the balcony doors pulled you in. You walked over, opening them to step outside, and the sight that greeted you made you pause. The sun was rising over a vast forest, casting everything in a soft, golden light. It was so peaceful—nothing like the busy Chicago skyline you were used to. The air was cool and crisp, and the birds had replaced the crows from last night, filling the air with morning songs.

“You’re awake early,” Jungwoo’s voice came from behind you.

You turned, surprised to see him standing at the doorway. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice still raspy from sleep.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, joining you at the railing. He looked out at the forest, but you found yourself watching him instead.

“Pretty well, actually,” you said with a small smile, then glanced back at the sunrise. After a moment, curiosity got the better of you. “Doesn’t the sun bother you?”

He chuckled softly. “No. The sun doesn’t hurt half-bloods.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling a little silly for asking. You leaned against the railing, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. You wondered if he could hear your thoughts again, but if he could, he didn’t let on.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

You weren’t thinking about breakfast before but since he’d mentioned it you felt your stomach rumble, answering the question for both of you. 

 Jungwoo led you to the castle's grand dining room, where he placed a steak in front of you. You stared down at the blood filled meat, and swallowed hard. 

“Are you okay ?” 

You glance up to see that he’s already nearly finished his food and you shake your head. “No, just not as hungry as I thought I was.” You lie and your stomach growls again as if to testify. “I might just go downtown later on and eat lunch.” 

“Is there something wrong with the steak?” 

You hesitated. “I’m just not used to eating it for breakfast.”

“I should’ve asked what you wanted,” he said, standing up. He wiped his mouth and walked toward you, holding out his hand.

“Where are you going?” you asked, but took his hand anyway.

“The kitchen.” He responds when you both appear in undoubtedly the biggest kitchen you’ve ever seen. You took a moment to take it all in, marveling at how the grandeur of the castle extended even to the kitchen. It was almost surreal. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” Jungwoo asks.

It takes no time for you to utter, “pancakes.” and within the same second, flour, eggs, milk and sugar are all spread out amongst the counter and ready for you to use. With ease he shifted towards the counter and began cracking the eggs on the bowl. 

He seemed a lot more skilled in the kitchen than you were so you opted to just slide on the counter and watch him cook, “So,” you began, trying to break the silence, “where does a vampire learn how to cook?”

“I have to eat, don't I?” He asks, not caring to look at you. 

“Right.” You nod awkwardly. “Well what else can you make?” 

“What other foods do you like?” 

“Pasta,” You don’t have to think about it, it’s been your favorite food since you were a kid. 

“Then I’ll make it for you one day.” You smile to yourself at the small sentiment. One day, those two words made you feel like you had all the time in the world. 

As he poured the batter onto the pan, the sizzling sound filled the air, blending with the quiet hum of the forest outside the tall windows.

“Careful, or you’ll burn them,” you teased. 

He shot you a mock-serious look. “I don’t burn pancakes.”

“Really?” you challenged. “We’ll see about that.”

For a moment, there was just the smell of pancakes and the soft clatter of utensils, but it wasn’t awkward. It felt easy. Comfortable. 

Jungwoo grabbed the plates once the pancakes were done and handed one to you. “See? No burns,” he said with a proud grin.

You roll your eyes and cut into the pancake. At first glance it looks amazing, but biting into it tastes even better. You let out a satisfied groan “These are amazing.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, “These are the best pancakes I've ever had. I could eat them everyday.” 

Jungwoo had left shortly after you finished breakfast together. He only explained that he had something important to do but you had a faint feeling that you knew what he was up to. Although the thought should’ve scared you, it didn’t. You trusted that he was a good being and that he wouldn’t do anything he didn’t have to do. 

In his absence you occupied yourself by exploring that large castle. You wandered down the long hallways and took your time admiring each oil painted portrait, especially one in particular that looked like a younger version of Jungwoo ,his parents and another young boy. You assumed it was the brother he spoke about although they looked nothing alike. 

You continued walking down the hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking underfoot. Each step felt like you were walking through a living piece of history, and the air carried a faint scent of aged wood and something floral, like dried lavender.

As you turned a corner, you spotted a door at the end of the hallway. It stood slightly ajar. Although Jungwoo had already mentioned that every room was free for you to use, this one felt strangely off limits. Yet you found yourself pulled to this specific room, and before you knew it you were gradually stepping towards the cracked door.  

Your breath is caught in your throat when you see a tall, pale figure rummaging through the room. You take a step back and the smallest noise makes the man look up in your direction, his piercing gray eyes almost looking right through you. “Juliette?” He calls. 

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn't breathe, as he took a step closer. His gaze never left you, as if searching for something impossible. “You’re supposed to be dead,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “How is this possible?”

You didn’t know how to respond—questions raced through your mind, but none made it past your lips. Your body felt frozen, even when he raised a hand, the back of his fingers faintly brushing against your cheek. His skin was ice-cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your own.

“Don’t touch her.”

Jungwoo’s voice cut through the room like a blade, pulling you out of your trance. The man’s hand fell away immediately as he turned to face Jungwoo. You watched the exchange, the pieces finally falling into place—this was Jungwoo’s brother. The resemblance wasn’t obvious, but the face matched the boy from the portrait.

“What are you doing here, Doyoung?” Jungwoo’s tone was hard as he stepped in front of you, shielding you from his brother’s gaze.

“I just want the dagger,” Doyoung said, his voice calm but laced with something darker. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the tension between them, making it harder to breathe.

“What do you want with it?” Jungwoo demanded, his body tense, every muscle coiled.

“To make sure it’s safe. You don’t understand the kind of power it holds.” Doyoung’s eyes flickered to you for a brief second before settling back on Jungwoo.

Your mind raced back to the library—the empty book, the strange feeling that something was missing. Could this dagger be connected to that? And why had Doyoung called you Juliette? The questions swirled, but the room seemed to grow hotter with each passing moment, as if the tension between the brothers was igniting something unseen.

“It’s safe with me,” Jungwoo countered, but the way Doyoung narrowed his eyes made it clear he didn’t believe that for a second.

The air in the room felt stifling now, the weight of whatever was between them pressing down on you. The edges of your vision blurred, the voices of the brothers fading into a distant hum. You reached out, instinctively searching for Jungwoo’s hand, but before you could grasp it, everything went dark.

When you woke, the familiar comfort of your bed surrounded you, but your mind was anything but settled. The events leading up to this moment felt like a blur, and for a second, you wondered if it had all been some strange dream. But then you saw him—Jungwoo, standing silently beside your bed, watching you with that same quiet intensity.

You sat up slowly, your head still swimming with questions. Should you ask him about it? You debated for a moment, but the look on Jungwoo’s face told you he was already one step ahead of you.

“That’s...” you began, struggling to find the words.

“My brother,” Jungwoo finished for you, his voice calm, though there was a faint edge of tension underneath. You had already pieced that together in the moments before everything had gone dark, but hearing him say it aloud made it feel more real, more complicated.

Your thoughts shifted again, this time to the other name Doyoung had mentioned—Juliette. That name carried weight, a mystery that clung to your mind, refusing to let go.

“What about Juliette?” you asked, your voice softer now, as if saying her name aloud might stir something dangerous.

Jungwoo’s expression changed, just for a moment, before he answered. “She’s... someone from the past,” he said, his tone final, as if that was all there was to it. But his answer didn’t satisfy the nagging curiosity burning in the back of your mind. He hadn’t really answered the question at all, but you decided not to push him further.

The room fell quiet again, and you noticed the way Jungwoo’s gaze lingered on you, concern still written plainly across his face.

“You need to rest,” he said gently. “I don’t want you wearing yourself out again.”

“I’m fine,” you tried to insist, but even you didn’t fully believe the words. Your body still felt weak, and the faint remnants of dizziness hadn’t completely faded.

Jungwoo gave you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Humor me,” he said softly before stepping away from the bed.

You watched him go, the quiet settling around you like a heavy blanket. The events of the day replayed in your mind over and over, each piece of the puzzle more confusing than the last. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something bigger was unfolding around you, something you were only beginning to understand.

As the night settled in, a deep sense of unease crept up your spine. The darkness felt different, more oppressive than usual, and the shadows in the corners of the room seemed to stretch further than they should. You couldn’t explain why, but fear had taken hold, and it wasn’t something you could shake on your own.

“Jungwoo,” you called softly, your voice just loud enough to break through the silence. A few moments later, he appeared at the door, his presence bringing with it a quiet sense of reassurance.

“Can you... stay with me?” you asked, feeling the weight of vulnerability in your words. “Just for a little while. I don’t wanna be alone.” 

Jungwoo didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room and climbed into the bed beside you, his presence instantly calming. You hadn’t even realized how tense you’d been until he was there, the weight of fear slowly lifting.

As Jungwoo settled beside you, the tension of the day began to dissolve. You moved closer, resting your head on his chest. His body was cold, but lying there, you felt warm, secure in his presence.

You weren’t listening for a heartbeat—you already knew there wouldn’t be one. In fact, that was why you found comfort in laying on his chest. The stillness, the absence of a heartbeat, made you feel like time didn’t exist for him. For a moment, the weight of everything—the past, the future, your fears—just slipped away, and all that mattered was the quiet, frozen moment you shared.

“I’m happy that I met you before I died. It feels a lot less lonely,” you whispered, almost afraid of how easily the words left your lips, but they were the truth.

Jungwoo’s chest rose slightly as he took a breath, then he spoke, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not going to let you die.”

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wished those words could erase the gnawing fear that clung to you. But deep down, you knew better than to hold onto false hope. Even so, lying here with him, you felt a sense of peace. It didn’t matter if his words couldn’t change the inevitable. What mattered was this moment, wrapped in his arms, where everything felt like it could stop for just a little while.

Yet, even as you began to drift into sleep, one name continued to linger in the back of your mind, refusing to let go—Juliette. The mystery of who she was haunted you, weaving through your thoughts, until finally, exhaustion pulled you under. But even then, the name wouldn’t leave you, hovering just out of reach, like a shadow in the distance.

And still, despite the questions, despite the uncertainty, you found comfort in the silence of Jungwoo’s chest and the steady feeling of his arms around you.  

You stirred awake to the gentle warmth of the morning sun, and as your eyes fluttered open, you realized Jungwoo was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you. His expression was soft, and the corners of his lips lifted into a fond smile as your gaze met his.

"Good morning," you murmured, still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning," he echoed, his voice low and gentle. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face before his hand cupped your cheek. The warmth of his touch lingered, and you couldn’t help but smile at the tenderness in his gesture. Instinctively, you rested your hand over his, holding it there for just a moment longer.

You blinked up at him, your thoughts swimming in the quietness of the moment. You couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his head as he continued to look at you with such intensity.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of silence, he spoke. “I want to show you something.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he leaned down, scooping you effortlessly into his arms. You let out a surprised laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you from the bed

Jungwoo carried you effortlessly into the ballroom, setting you gently in his lap as he sat at the piano. His fingers grazed the keys, and soon the room was filled with the beautiful, haunting notes of Beethoven's "Pathetique" second movement. The music was soft but powerful, and you leaned your head against his chest, listening to each note as it seemed to pour straight from him.

There was no heartbeat, but you could feel the depth of his presence, the calm strength in his body as he played. It was intimate in a way you weren’t used to, but you found yourself sinking into the moment, letting the music wash over you. You glanced up at him, his expression focused, thoughtful—somewhere far away.

Then, almost as if he felt your gaze, Jungwoo looked down at you, his eyes soft and warm. “Dance with me,” he said, his voice low, full of something you couldn’t quite read.

Before you could respond, he stood, pulling you to your feet. The piano keys continued to play on their own, filling the room with a beautiful, eerie melody. His hand found yours, his other resting lightly on your waist as he guided you into a slow dance. There was something effortless in the way he moved, almost as if he’d done this a thousand times before.

As the two of you glided across the floor, something shifted in the air between you. His gaze lingered a little longer, his touch felt more deliberate. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment meant more to him than just a dance. He led you into a graceful dip, and for a heartbeat, his lips hovered close to yours. The world seemed to pause.

In that instant, a memory flickered in his mind—dancing like this with Juliette. The feeling of almost kissing her in the same dip. But instead of letting his lips meet yours, he pressed them gently to your forehead, the warmth of his breath lingering there.

When he pulled you back up, he held you steady, his hands lingering on your waist. His eyes stayed on yours, soft but searching, like he was trying to find something in you. And for a brief moment, you felt like he’d found it. But whatever it was, he didn’t say. 

Neither of you said a word. The music continued, but the moment was no longer about the song. It was about the quiet understanding, the unspoken bond that grew between you—a connection neither of you were quite ready to define, but one that was impossible to ignore.

You stood there in the quiet, your body still tingling from the dance, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary on your waist. You felt breathless, but not because of the movement—it was him. The way he looked at you, the way his touch felt like it carried more meaning than he’d ever admit aloud. You searched his face for some hint of what was running through his mind, but he kept whatever he was thinking just out of reach.

The piano’s melody softened to a close, and the silence that followed was heavy with unspoken things. You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he still was, the way his eyes hadn’t left yours, like he was waiting for you to say something, to break the spell.

But you didn’t. Instead, you smiled—a small, quiet thing—your heart fluttering despite knowing he couldn’t feel it. “That was beautiful,” you whispered, your voice softer than you intended.

“So are you,” Jungwoo replied, almost without thinking. His voice was equally soft, a confession more than a compliment.

You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks, unsure how to respond. Your hand still rested in his, and you gave it a small, absentminded squeeze, not daring to break the moment, not wanting to.

“Do you—” you started to ask, but his hand moved from your waist to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek. Your words faded into the quiet between you. He leaned forward slightly, his breath cold on your skin, so close it sent a shiver down your spine. But just as you thought he might kiss you, he stopped. His forehead rested against yours, the soft weight of his touch making your pulse race.

“I wish I could stay like this with you,” he murmured, the words almost too soft to hear. “But I have things I need to do.”

The air between you shifted, a reminder that no matter how close you felt in this moment, there was still something he wasn’t telling you—something that pulled him away.

You gave a small nod, not trusting yourself to speak. He lingered a moment longer, as if debating whether to stay or go, and then, with one last glance, he released you, stepping back. The warmth of his hand slipped away, leaving the air cooler in his absence.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, his tone as steady as ever, though there was a hint of something else—regret, maybe. “Get some rest.”

You didn’t want to, but you nodded again. “Okay,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Jungwoo gave you a faint smile, and then he turned, heading for the door. You watched him go, feeling the weight of his absence as soon as he disappeared from the room.

Once he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your eyes drifted to the piano, the room suddenly feeling much bigger, much quieter. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, but eventually, you shook yourself from the daze, walking back to your room.

Just as you let out a soft sigh, your phone rings. You hesitate for a moment, almost not wanting to break the quietness Jungwoo left behind, but then you see Hendery’s name flash on the screen.

With a deep breath, you answer.

“Hey,” you greet, trying to sound normal.

“Hey, did you quit the café?” Hendery’s voice sounds slightly surprised. “Yeri told me.”

You swallow, throwing yourself on the bed. “Yeah, I did.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and you can almost hear him thinking. “So, you must have a lot of free time now,” he says, his voice careful.

“Something like that.” 

“What do you think about a movie… Tonight?” He blurts suddenly, like he’s been holding it in since the start of the call. 

Your fingers tighten around the phone. A movie sounds so normal. But as Hendery talks, your thoughts drift back to the ballroom. To Jungwoo. The way he kissed your forehead, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of the castle. You shook your head, remembering that he could hear your every thought about him. 

“Yeah,” you say. “That sounds good.”

Hendery’s voice brightens on the other end, making plans, but your mind is only half there. You try to focus, to push thoughts of Jungwoo aside. Yet, even as you agree to go to the movie, you can’t stop wondering—what if your feelings for Jungwoo are real? And what if it’s already too late to ignore them?

After ending the call, you let out a slow breath and drop the phone onto the bed beside you. Staring up at the ceiling, a wave of realization washes over you—you haven’t left the castle since you arrived. Not once. Every moment has been spent either with Jungwoo or lost in the maze of the castle’s endless rooms. And now, you’ve agreed to meet Hendery, but how would you even get there?

Your first thought is to try the door. It’s the most logical step, though the idea of it seems ridiculous. The castle feels like its own world, detached from everything you knew before. Could the door even lead to anything beyond its dark halls?

You get up, pulling the door open with a slow creak, expecting to see the forest, the heavy iron gates, something—anything that resembles the outside. But what you find is far from what you expect.

It’s your apartment.

Your breath catches as you stand frozen, taking in the sight of your living room—the worn-out couch, your coat draped over the back, the coffee table still cluttered with old mugs and books. The familiar scent of home fills the air, and the city skyline looms in the distance, exactly as you left it.

It’s impossible, yet there it is. The castle door has opened into your apartment, like a doorway between worlds.

You decide not to think too much about it, as you step into your apartment and begin getting ready for your date. 

You and Hendery step into the dimly lit theater, the smell of buttered popcorn filling the air as you both settle into your seats. The lights dim further, and the hum of pre-show chatter fades, replaced by the soft flicker of the screen. Hendery leans closer, offering a small smile. "So, what’ve you been up to since quitting the café?" 

You hesitate, your mind flashing to the castle and Jungwoo. "Not much, honestly. Just… settling into some new things." You give a half-hearted smile, trying not to reveal too much. Hendery raises an eyebrow but doesn't press further.

"Well, at least you’ve got some free time now," he says, turning his attention back to the screen. "Maybe we can hang out more, you know?"

You nod, not really committing. The previews begin, and you shift in your seat, trying to focus on anything but the thoughts that keep tugging at the back of your mind.

As the movie starts, a familiar plot unfolds—a brooding vampire falls in love with a mortal girl. You roll your eyes at first, but as the scenes play out, you can’t help but think of Jungwoo. His gaze, his touch, the way he carries himself. You bite your lip, trying to push the thoughts away, but they keep circling back.

Suddenly, a tap on your shoulder snaps you out of it. You turn, expecting Hendery or even Jungwoo, but instead, Doyoung’s sharp, familiar eyes meet yours. Your breath catches, panic swelling in your chest. Before you can scream or really fully register his presence, the theater around you vanishes.

In an instant, you're outside, somewhere in the cold, darkened alleyway behind the theater. Doyoung’s grip on your arm tightens as he hisses, “Stay away from him.”

“What—why?” you demand, shaking off his hand. Your heart pounds, but before you can press further, a familiar presence shifts the air around you.

Jungwoo appears.

Doyoung is gone. The alley feels smaller, darker. Jungwoo’s eyes meet yours, unreadable, but there’s a tension simmering beneath his calm demeanor. You stand there, waiting for him to speak, waiting for an explanation—but all you can think about is the way his presence always changes everything.

“Are you okay?” Jungwoo asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he stepped closer.

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. “No, I’m not okay! What just happened? What’s going on between you and Doyoung?” Your voice rose with each question. “And who is Juliette?”

At the mention of her name, Jungwoo’s expression shifted. There was a flicker of something—pain, nostalgia, and a hint of fear—in his eyes. It was clear that Juliette was more than just a name from his past.

Before he could respond, everything around you blurred. The world twisted and folded, and suddenly, you found yourself in an unfamiliar room. The air was heavy with an old familiarity, and your gaze was drawn to framed black-and-white photographs adorning the walls.

Your heart raced as you caught sight of one particular picture. The girl in it looked exactly like you—same features, same hair, same haunting eyes. You stepped closer, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Is this me?” you whispered, barely able to process the revelation.

Jungwoo hesitates, but then he speaks, his voice heavy with an old sadness. “This is Juliette.”

The truth hits you like a wave. “I’m Juliette,” you say, the realization sinking in.

You turn to face him, eyes wide with disbelief. "Jungwoo, this isn't making any sense."

His eyes, though calm, are filled with a pain you hadn’t noticed before. "Juliette was someone I loved," he finally admits. "My first love."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and bitter.

"Doyoung never approved of us," Jungwoo continues, his tone darkening. "She was human, and I... I was never meant to be with her. He went out of his way to stop us. He killed her to put an end to it... to us."

Your heart drops at his words, the weight of what he’s saying crashing down on you. It suddenly makes sense—why the brothers don’t speak, why there’s so much tension between them. But it still doesn’t explain why Doyoung warned you about Hendery.

You push the thought to the back of your mind for now. All you can focus on is Jungwoo—the way he looks at you, the way your heart aches for him in a way that feels like more than just attraction. It feels like destiny.

Jungwoo steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m not going to lose you again,” he whispers, his voice breaking just slightly as he cups your cheek, the touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you can say anything, he leans down, his lips brushing yours in the gentlest, softest kiss. It’s barely there, just enough to make your heart skip, but it’s everything. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss him back, pouring all your confusion and longing into that single moment.

Suddenly, everything shifts again. You find yourself back in your bed, Jungwoo hovering over you. His lips move tenderly against yours, but your mind is racing. For the first time, you start to register what’s happening, what you’re feeling. This is what love feels like—this rush of warmth, the dizzying sensation that overtakes you, the way every part of you feels alive because of him.

He pulls back just slightly, noticing the tension in your body, the whirlwind of thoughts. “Stop thinking; you’re distracting me,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft but commanding.

You nod quickly, breathless. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my love,” he whispers, the endearment sending a shock through you. He leans down again, this time laying a trail of soft, deliberate kisses down your neck. Each kiss feels like a promise, like a reassurance that everything between you, every moment, is real.

And with each touch of his lips, the racing thoughts in your mind begin to quiet, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of being completely, utterly his.

The sound of your phone buzzing drags you out of sleep. Groggy, you blink against the morning light filtering in through the tall windows. You reach over to the side, expecting to find Jungwoo, but the bed beside you is cold and empty.

You sit up fully, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and glance at your phone. Hendery’s name flashes across the screen. Your stomach tightens at the memory of Doyoung’s warning. The vibration continues in your hand, loud in the quiet room, but you let it ring until it goes to voicemail.

When the call ends, you unlock your phone and frown at the missed notifications: seven calls, seventeen unread messages—all from Hendery.

You sigh, debating for a moment whether to respond. But no part of you wants to dive back into that mess, not yet. You turn the phone face down on the mattress and swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

You walk into the kitchen, spotting Jungwoo at the stove, effortlessly moving the pan. The smell of pancakes lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. You hop up onto the counter, the cool surface grounding you as you slide into place.

Jungwoo looks over his shoulder and flashes you a small, content smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you echo softly, already feeling a little lighter.

He turns off the burner, wipes his hands, and walks over to you. “How did you sleep, my love?”

Your heart flutters at the endearment, even though you’ve heard it before. You give him a small nod. “I slept fine.”

You don’t tell him you could get used to waking up like this.

His eyes search yours for a moment, like he’s reading more than just your words. Then, without warning, he leans in and kisses you. The moment his lips meet yours, everything else melts away—the confusion, the warnings, the unanswered questions. You’re completely intoxicated by the way he kisses you, like the world begins and ends with you.

When he finally pulls away, you blink up at him, breathless, struggling to ground yourself again. He smiles softly, brushing his thumb along your jaw.

“I made you pancakes,” he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate.

Your lips curve into a grin, warmth spreading through your chest. He actually listens to me, you think, savoring the small, intimate gesture. 

Jungwoo plates the pancakes and hands them to you. You take a bite, the sweet taste of syrup and butter filling your senses.

As you eat, he leans against the counter, watching you with that same quiet fondness. “I was thinking...” he begins, tone careful but light, “maybe I could take you out today. A date.”

You pause, looking at him in surprise. “A date?”

He nods, his gaze steady. “I want to make this relationship as normal as I can.”

You stare at him for a beat, and it’s impossible to tell if he’s reassuring you or himself. But you smile, feeling the weight lift from your chest, just a little.

“Okay,” you agree softly.

The two of you stroll through the bustling streets of Chicago, taking in the sights and smells of the city. Every now and then, Jungwoo points out something he finds amusing—a street musician playing way too passionately, or an artist sketching portraits on the spot. You laugh, and he smiles at the sound, a look on his face like he’d bottle up the moment if he could.

You sample different street foods, sharing bites off each other’s forks. He teases you about how many things you want to try, but he still indulges every whim, brushing his shoulder against yours every time you walk too close together.

Everything feels strangely normal, almost too normal—like the otherworldly madness of the last few days had never happened.

That’s when someone bumps into you. Hard.

“Watch where you're going,” the man grumbles, barely sparing you a glance.

Jungwoo immediately stiffens beside you, his playful demeanor gone in an instant. His eyes sharpen as if tracking prey, and before you can react, he steps forward.

“Jungwoo,” you murmur, placing a hand on his arm, “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” You don’t want anything—or anyone—ruining this date.

He glances down at you, his expression unreadable. But instead of letting it go, he leans closer, voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Do you want me to kill him?”

Your heart stutters, and you stare at him, unsure if he’s joking. “That’s not funny, Jungwoo.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” His eyes stay locked on the man’s retreating form, cold and calculating.

Before you can say anything more, a sharp whizz cuts through the air. Something flies past your head—so fast you barely register it—and strikes the man from behind. The stranger crumples to the ground, unconscious.

You gasp and whirl around. “Jungwoo, did you kill him?”

Jungwoo smirks, a playful glint returning to his gaze. “Of course not, my love.”

You glance back at the man sprawled across the pavement. “He doesn’t look not dead…”

Jungwoo steps into your line of sight, effectively blocking the view. He tilts his head toward a nearby stand. “How about some hot chocolate?”

Despite everything, you can’t help the way your tension eases as soon as he’s in front of you. His presence has a way of making you forget things—dangerous things.

You let out a breath and shake your head with a small smile. “Fine.”

The rest of the date is blissfully uneventful. You lose track of time wandering the city together, sharing more snacks, stealing shy glances, and falling into step like you’ve been doing this for years. It feels…easy. Like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

When you finally return to the castle, the weight of reality starts to settle in again. Jungwoo walks you to your room, brushing a soft kiss over your forehead before stepping back.

“I’ll make dinner,” he says. “Stay here and relax.”

You watch him disappear down the hall, already missing the sound of his voice.

And just like that, you're alone, with only the faint scent of him lingering in the room. You sit on the edge of your bed, your mind racing with thoughts of Doyoung’s warning about Hendery. Why had he told you to stay away from him? What could Hendery possibly have to do with all of this? You sigh, running a hand through your hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Just as you start to gather your thoughts, a chill sweeps through the room, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. Instinctively, you glance around, feeling the unmistakable presence of someone else.

“Can you hear my thoughts too?” you ask into the empty room, a mix of curiosity and trepidation in your voice.

Doyoung materializes in front of you, his expression inscrutable. He shakes his head slowly. “No, but I can tell when you’re troubled.”

You fold your arms, trying to muster a sense of confidence despite the unease swirling inside you. “Then why are you here?”

“I figured you might have a few questions.” His tone is calm, yet there’s an underlying tension that makes your heart race.

You find it strange—almost comforting—that you don’t feel scared around him, even knowing what Jungwoo had told you. He had killed you in your past life. Yet here you are, stepping closer, intrigued. “So, that’s why you two don’t get along.”

Doyoung’s gaze softens slightly. “It’s true that I didn’t approve of your relationship. But I would never kill you.” His voice is steady. “I knew your time on Earth was limited compared to Jungwoo’s. I didn’t want his fate to mirror that of our parents. I just… didn’t want to lose all of my family.”

You nod, processing his words. It makes sense, in a twisted sort of way. “What about the dagger?”

Doyoung’s expression shifts, becoming serious. “It’s the only thing that can kill a vampire. But…” He pauses, letting the weight of his next words hang in the air. “Only someone the vampire loves can wield it against them.”

You furrow your brow, trying to wrap your mind around the implications. “So that’s why you’ve been trying to keep it away?”

“Yes,” he confirms, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

You take a breath, preparing to ask how you died in your past life, but just as the words start to form on your lips, the door swings open. Jungwoo strides in, a warm smile on his face.

“Dinner’s ready,” he announces, the tension in the room dissipating as quickly as it had arrived.

Doyoung’s expression shifts, and in an instant, he disappears from view, leaving you momentarily stunned. You turn to Jungwoo, a thousand questions swirling in your mind.

“Wait, Jungwoo, I was just—”

“Hey,” he interrupts gently, walking closer. “You okay?”

You hesitate, your curiosity about your past life flickering in your mind, but his presence grounds you. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Let’s go eat,” he says, a hint of warmth in his smile. You can’t shake the feeling that there’s still so much left unsaid, but you nod and follow him out of the room.

After dinner, you find yourself lying next to Jungwoo, your head resting on his chest. The stillness is comforting, the absence of a heartbeat a gentle reminder that he isn’t going anywhere. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the peacefulness of the moment.

“You know,” you murmur softly, “you make me want to live. It feels so unfair that I have to die.”

His fingers weave through your hair, the touch soothing. “You’re not going to die,” he replies, his voice steady and reassuring. “I won’t let that happen.”

You want to believe him, but fear lingers in the back of your mind, a shadow threatening to taint your hope. You don’t allow yourself to get your hopes up, knowing the truth of your situation. Instead, you close your eyes, letting the warmth of his presence wash over you as exhaustion begins to pull at your eyelids.

Jungwoo’s fingers continue to play with your hair, each gentle stroke lulling you closer to sleep. “Just rest, my love,” he whispers, and the affection in his voice wraps around you like a warm blanket.

 You drift into a dream and wake up to the warm glow of the 1950s. Glancing down, you see yourself in a pink vintage dress, the fabric soft against your skin, and your hair styled in elegant waves.

You were at work, wiping down the counter of the café where you had spent months. The familiar hum of the city drifted through the open window, mingling with the rhythmic chime of the coffee machine.

Beside you stands Yeri, your coworker, dressed in a fashionable 1950s outfit with a fitted blouse and a full skirt. She flashes you a sardonic smile. “Can you try not to spill coffee on the customers today? Or is that too much to ask?” she quips, her tone dripping with sarcasm. You shoot her a glare, feeling the familiar tension between you two.

“I’ll do my job if you do yours,” you retort, keeping your voice steady as you stack plates. Yeri raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond, the air thick with unspoken animosity.

Just then, the bell above the café door jingles, and in strides Hendery, a confident grin plastered on his face. “Hey there, gorgeous!” he calls out, leaning against the counter with an easy charm.

“Look who’s back—how original,” Yeri mutters, wiping a glass more forcefully than necessary.

Both of you ignore her as Hendery turns back to you. “You ever take a break?” he asks, his grin widening when you look up, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Not often,” you reply, managing a small smile, but your heart isn’t in it.

He leans forward, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Then how about I show you around the city? You work too much.”

You raise an eyebrow, skeptical. “And what’s in it for you?”

He chuckles, his tone playful. “Just a little fun. Nothing serious, I promise. I can see you’re taken—at least by that dreamy look in your eyes whenever you drift off mid-shift.”

You feel your cheeks flush but try to play it off. “It’s not like that,” you mutter, but he catches the way your gaze flickers, how you almost avoid mentioning Jungwoo’s name.

“So, what do you say? A casual night, no strings, just a drive-in movie and some good old-fashioned fun,” he suggests, leaning closer.

After a beat of hesitation, you shrug. It wasn’t like you had anything else planned, and Hendery had always been kind—never pushy. “Alright. Why not?” You convince yourself it would be harmless.

The drive-in movie flickered on the screen before you, showcasing a romantic vampire film that made your heart race in a different way. You couldn’t help but think of Jungwoo—the way he moved, the way he looked at you with that blend of intensity and softness that made your breath hitch. The soft hum of the car radio blended with the film’s dialogue, and for a moment, you let the fantasy of it all wash over you, feeling a pang of longing.

Hendery kept the atmosphere light-hearted so far, and you almost felt at ease. The city lights faded behind you as you drove out to a more secluded part of town, everything feeling casual and easy—until it didn’t.

About halfway through the film, you noticed Hendery’s hand inching toward yours on the armrest. At first, you thought it was an accident, but then he leaned in closer. “You cold?” he asked, his voice low, almost too close to your ear.

You shifted uncomfortably, shaking your head. “I’m fine, thanks.”

But he didn’t pull away. His hand slid onto your leg, and your heart skipped a beat—not in a good way. You pushed his hand away gently, yet firmly, turning to face him. “Hendery, I can’t. I have someone. Someone I’m in love with.”

His expression shifted from playful to something darker. “You serious?” he muttered, confusion morphing into disappointment. “I thought that was just for fun.”

“It is fun,” you replied softly, yet firmly, “but I still can’t.”

He mutters something under his breath, his gaze flicking back to the screen, but the weight of his disappointment lingers. For a moment, you think everything is fine—until you feel his hand creeping back.

“Please, take me home,” you insist, your voice rising, desperation creeping in. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

He hesitates, glancing at you. “Come on, it’s just a movie. I thought we were having fun.”

“I said take me home!” you demand, your heart racing, a mix of fear and frustration bubbling to the surface.

Finally, he nods, a reluctant look in his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.” As he started the car and pulled out of the drive-in, that unease grew. Something about his demeanor had changed—the easygoing Hendery you knew replaced by a quiet intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The streetlights grew sparse, and familiar roads faded behind you, replaced by darkness.

“Where are we going?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Just a shortcut,” he replies, his tone flat.

You glance out the window, the landscape shifting from urban to isolated, trees closing in on both sides. Your heart races with apprehension. “I think I’d rather stick to the main roads.”

But Hendery doesn’t respond. The car veers onto a narrow road that leads deeper into the woods.

“Hendery, please stop!” you say, panic creeping into your voice.

He ignores you, pulling the car off the road and cutting the engine. The silence that follows feels heavy, oppressive. Before you can react, he grips your wrist tightly, his face shifting into something you didn’t recognize—a darkness lurking beneath the surface.

“I’ve been patient,” he hisses. “But I’m done waiting.”

Adrenaline floods your system, and you struggle against his grip. “Let me go!” you shout, fighting to break free. But he’s stronger than you anticipated. Before you know it, you’re being dragged out of the car, the cool night air hitting your skin as you stumble onto the forest floor.

You manage to twist free for just a moment, heart pounding in your chest. You start to run, but Hendery is faster. He catches up to you in a few strides, and before you can scream, a sharp pain sears through your back.

You gasp, collapsing to the ground, feeling the warm, sticky sensation of blood spreading across your skin. Your vision blurs, but in the distance, through the haze of pain and fear, you see a figure emerge from the shadows.

It’s Doyoung.

He moves like lightning, grabbing Hendery and throwing him back, his eyes blazing with fury. But it’s too late—the damage has already been done. The knife is still lodged in your back, and the world around you begins to spin.

Doyoung kneels beside you, his hands shaking as he tries to stop the bleeding. “Stay with me,” he urges, his voice cracking. “You’ll be okay.”

But you can’t respond. The pain is too much, and the world around you is fading fast. You cling to the thought of Jungwoo—his smile, his quiet strength, the way he looked at you as if he saw everything you didn’t want to admit.

Doyoung cradled your lifeless body in his arms, the weight of your stillness pressing heavily against him. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the blood that stained his pale skin—a stark reminder of his failed attempts to save you. Each drop felt like a dagger to his heart, a testament to his desperation and helplessness. The castle loomed ahead, dark and ominous, but he pushed forward, driven by the urgency of the moment.

As he entered the grand hall, the flickering candlelight cast long shadows, and there, amidst the flicker and gloom, he found Jungwoo. He was pacing, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes, and when he caught sight of you in Doyoung’s arms, he froze. The world around them seemed to slow as he rushed forward, panic etched on his features. 

Your pink vintage dress, once soft and beautiful, was now marred by the stark, dark crimson stains that spread across the fabric. The blood pooled at your back, soaking into the delicate fibers, transforming the cheerful hue into a haunting reminder of the violence that had taken place. The fabric clung to your skin, glistening ominously in the candlelight, each drop a testament to the life that had been stolen from you.

“Why?” Jungwoo’s voice trembled as he reached for you, his fingers brushing against your cold skin. “Please, just talk to me, my love. I know you can hear me. Please!” His voice cracked, and he pressed his forehead against yours, desperation palpable in his every word.

But you remained still, unresponsive. Jungwoo’s eyes filled with tears as he looked up at Doyoung, fury mingling with heartbreak. “What did you do?” he screamed, the anguish in his voice echoing against the castle walls.

Doyoung’s heart sank further. “I didn’t—” he started, but the words fell flat. “I didn’t do anything! I tried to save her!”

But Jungwoo’s gaze burned with mistrust. “You never wanted us together!” His accusation hung in the air, thick with betrayal. “You’ve always been against it!”

“Jungwoo, please!” Doyoung pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of his own sorrow. “I wanted her safe! I wanted both of you safe!”

But Jungwoo was beyond reason, tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he clung to your body, the anguish of loss consuming him. “You have to fix this! You have to bring her back!”

The darkness began to swirl around Doyoung as he watched the scene unfold, guilt eating away at him, and he could barely breathe. The weight of the moment pressed down on him until he could no longer bear it.

You jolted upright in bed, gasping for breath, your heart racing as remnants of the horrifying dream clung to your mind. The image of your bloodied pink dress, stained a deep crimson, flashed before your eyes, and the weight of Doyoung’s tears lingered in your chest.

The bed shifted beside you, and you turned to find Jungwoo propped up on one elbow, concern etched across his pale features. His cool skin contrasted sharply with the warmth radiating from your body.

“It’s okay.” he said softly, his voice laced with urgency. “It was just a nightmare.”

You didn’t respond, the words tangled in your throat. You knew this was more than a mere dream; it felt like a glimpse into a dark truth. Instead, you leaned closer, clinging to him as if he were your anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

Without hesitation, Jungwoo pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. He wrapped his hands gently through your hair. 

He kissed your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering for a moment longer, sending a wave of tranquility through your frayed nerves. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing whisper. “I’m right here.”

But even as you nestled into his embrace, the shadows of your dream loomed in the corners of your mind. You buried your face against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him, trying to drown out the haunting memories of what you had seen.

“Just breathe,” he urged, his fingers still running through your hair in a gentle, calming rhythm. 

You obey his words, matching your breaths to the soothing strokes of his hand in your hair. Inhale, exhale. The rhythm steadies you, gradually pulling you back from the edge of panic. When your breathing evens out, Jungwoo tilts your chin gently to look at you, his dark eyes filled with quiet concern.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly.

You manage a small nod. “Better,” you whisper.

He brushes his cool fingers across your cheeks, drying the tears you hadn’t even realized were there. The tenderness in his touch stirs something deep inside you, an ache softened only by his presence. Jungwoo takes your hand, turning it in his grasp, and presses a few soft kisses to the back of it, his lips cold but featherlight. You feel his unspoken promise in the gesture—he’s not going anywhere.

He draws you closer, cradling you until the tension leaves your body entirely. His steady hold lulls you into sleep once again, the nightmare momentarily banished by his quiet devotion.

But when morning breaks, the dream haunts you still, fragments flickering behind your closed eyes like pieces of a shattered mirror. You see Hendery’s smirk, the sinister edge to his charm. You remember the terrifying, visceral feeling of your final breath slipping from your lungs. And worst of all, the image of Jungwoo and Doyoung, broken and desperate, clinging to your lifeless body as though willing you back to life.

Jungwoo has been gone for a while now, leaving you with time to think. The pieces of the puzzle slowly start to click into place, though one question still gnaws at you: Why didn’t Jungwoo tell me about Juliette sooner?

Just as the thought takes root, Doyoung appears without a sound, his expression solemn. “He forced himself to forget,” Doyoung says, his voice quiet but heavy with emotion. “He thought if he erased those memories, he could move on. But in the end, he lost everything.”

You study Doyoung’s face—the sorrow etched into his features, the weight of regret that clings to him. Despite everything, you feel a flicker of sympathy for him. He had tried to protect his brother in the only way he knew how. But instead of saving his family, he had watched it all unravel.

A wave of determination sweeps over you. You know now what you have to do. This can’t go on. This hundred-year feud between Jungwoo and Doyoung—it has to end.

Taking a deep breath, you step back and call softly, “Jungwoo.”

And just like that, he’s with you again—because all it ever takes is calling his name.

Jungwoo’s expression darkens the second his eyes land on his brother. “What are you doing here? Get away from her,” he snaps, voice sharp like a dagger.

The protective fury in his gaze is something you’ve only seen once before—dangerous and unyielding. His whole body tenses as if ready to lunge at Doyoung, a low growl in his throat.

Before things can escalate, you blurt out, “Doyoung didn’t kill me!”

Jungwoo’s gaze snaps to you, confusion and disbelief clouding his features. “What?” His voice is low, as if he misheard.

You swallow hard, heart racing. “He didn’t kill me,” you repeat, meeting his intense gaze. “He tried to save me.”

“No, he—” Jungwoo starts to protest, but you cut him off.

“I was attacked by someone else that night,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “When Doyoung showed up, it was already too late... But he did everything he could to bring me back.”

Jungwoo’s fists clench at his sides, the weight of your words settling over him like stones. His anger fractures, replaced by something raw and painful.

“He’s not the enemy, Jungwoo,” you whisper. “He’s your brother. You’re all he has left. You both lost your parents... Don’t lose each other, too.”

Jungwoo stares at Doyoung, his emotions shifting beneath the surface—anger giving way to regret, and regret yielding to guilt. You walk over to him and gently place a hand on his arm. “I think he deserves an apology,” you say quietly.

A moment passes in thick silence before Jungwoo steps toward his brother. His jaw tightens as if the apology is physically difficult to say. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “I shouldn’t have blamed you. I just—” He breaks off, the words catching in his throat. “I thought I lost her because of you.”

Doyoung’s eyes soften, and for the first time, the cracks in his icy composure show. “I missed you,” he says, voice trembling slightly. “I missed you every day.”

Jungwoo’s breath hitches, and when he finally looks at Doyoung, the guarded walls around his heart crumble completely. “I missed you, too,” he whispers, voice barely audible.

Doyoung steps forward and pulls Jungwoo into a tight embrace, gripping him like he’s afraid to let go. Jungwoo stiffens at first, but then he melts into the hug, wrapping his arms around his brother. In that moment, years of tension, anger, and heartache dissolve between them.

Watching them reunite sends a wave of warmth through you. The years of pain and misunderstanding no longer linger like a dark cloud, and for the first time, you feel at peace. A small smile tugs at your lips, knowing that you can finally rest in the castle—no longer haunted by the past.

After a long moment, Doyoung turns to you with a faint smile. “I know we didn’t get off on the right foot…”

You cut him off with a grin. “We’re alright now.”

He nods, a quiet understanding passing between the three of you. 

The night settles in, the quiet hum of the forrest fading into the background. You slip under the blankets and curl into Jungwoo’s side. His body is cool, but it’s familiar now..

After a long stretch of silence, you finally ask, “Do you think you and Doyoung will be alright after I’m gone?”

Jungwoo freezes beside you, his entire body going still, and you immediately regret saying it. He turns to look at you, his expression hard to read, but his eyes are sharp with something close to panic.

“You’re not going to die.” His voice is low, steady, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s daring the universe to try.

You give him a sad little smile. “Even if we find a cure... I’m still human, Jungwoo. One day... I will die.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unavoidable. Jungwoo’s jaw tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself from breaking. His hand slides into yours, gripping it firmly, as if that alone can keep you here with him forever.

“I’ve waited too long for you,” he whispers. “I’m not losing you again. Not now. Not ever.”

Your throat tightens, and you squeeze his hand. “I don’t want to leave you either—”

“Then don’t.” He says it so softly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Before you can argue or overthink it, his lips meet yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but there’s a desperation underneath it, like he’s trying to tell you everything he can’t put into words.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Forever.”

He kisses you again—slower this time—and the rest of the world falls away. No more fears, no more questions. Just him, grounding you in the moment, holding you close.

You melt into him, letting the weight of everything slip away. Wrapped up in his arms, you feel lighter. Safe. Whole.

Sleep comes easily. And for the first time in a long time, you feel at peace, like this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

But you should’ve known it wouldn’t last for long.

Dr. Jeong adjusts his glasses as you settle into the chair across from him. His office smells faintly of antiseptic and paper, a constant reminder of the cold, clinical reality you’ve tried so hard to avoid. He leans forward, his hands folded on the desk.

“I won’t sugarcoat it,” he says with a sigh. “Your health is declining faster than we anticipated.”

You force yourself to sit still, hands gripping the edge of the chair. “How much faster?”

“You might not make it to the end of the month.”  His voice is gentle, but the weight of those words feels anything but. “Have you been under any unusual stress lately?”

You manage a brittle laugh, though nothing about the situation feels funny. “Just a little.”

Dr. Jeong gives you a knowing look but doesn’t press further. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but we need to monitor things closely. If anything changes—”

“I know the drill,” you cut him off, your voice quieter than you intended. “I’ll come back. Or maybe I won’t.”

He frowns, but there’s no lecture—just the kind of exhausted empathy that comes from watching patients walk this tightrope between hope and inevitability.

“I get that this is overwhelming,” Dr. Jeong says, his tone softening. “But you still have time. There’s always a chance—”

“No, there isn’t,” you mutter. “Not really.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you. He doesn’t argue, and that, somehow, makes it worse.

When the appointment ends, you thank him out of habit, though it feels hollow. As you walk out of the office, the weight of everything hits you like a freight train.

You barely make it past the lobby before your knees buckle. The floodgates open, and before you can stop yourself, you’re sitting on the cold hospital floor, sobbing.

It feels like the dam you’ve been holding up for weeks has finally burst. All the fear, the helplessness, and the heartbreak you’ve tried to bury come rushing out at once.

That’s when you hear your name.

You look up through tear-blurred eyes to see Yeri walking toward you, concern etched on her face. You sit up, hurriedly wiping your tears with the sleeve of your shirt as her voice breaks through the haze.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, her brows knitting together.

You glance away, embarrassed to be caught like this. “I had an appointment,” you mumble.

Yeri frowns. “I’m here to meet my brother,” she says casually, as if she’s filling in a blank. But then, she sees the look on your face, and something in her shifts. “What’s wrong?”

The words are heavy on your tongue, but you force them out. “I’m… dying.”

Her expression changes instantly—gone is the sharp, cool exterior. For a moment, it’s as if time freezes. The subtle disbelief in her widened eyes melts into something unfamiliar on her: empathy.

“You’re serious?” she whispers, and when you nod, you swear you see her heart break just a little. “How long… How long have you known?”

“A while,” you admit, shrugging. “It’s not like it’s new. It’s just… things are getting worse now.”

Yeri’s lips part, but no words come out. She looks away, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Then, finally, she whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you say, brushing away another tear that slips out.

She looks back at you, almost offended. “I know I can be a bitch sometimes, but… I’m trying to work on it.”

You let out a shaky laugh, and before you know it, Yeri’s arms wrap around you. You hesitate for a second, then lean into the hug, letting her warmth pull you out of the spiral you'd been drowning in. 

You make it back home, exhaustion weighing on you like a second skin. Despite everything swirling inside your mind, you force yourself to cook dinner. Jungwoo and Doyoung are already sitting at the table when you bring the food out, exchanging casual banter that feels too normal given the day you’ve had.

You sit with them, listening quietly as they talk about old memories and trivial things. Every now and then, Jungwoo sneaks a glance at you, concern flickering across his eyes. You smile faintly in return, not wanting to spoil the moment.

After dinner, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water, your legs feeling heavier with every step toward the kitchen. The ache in your chest spreads, but you shake it off. You just need some water.

You grab a glass, fill it, and bring it to your lips—then, the room tilts.

The glass slips from your hand.

You hear the shatter before you feel yourself collapsing, the jagged pieces scattering across the floor.

“Hey!” someone shouts—Jungwoo, maybe. You’re not sure.

Your knees buckle, and you hit the ground a moment after the cup, the cold tiles pressing against your cheek as darkness creeps in from the edges of your vision.

The last thing you register is hurried footsteps and a pair of hands—cold, strong—grabbing you before the world blinks out.

You wake up to Jungwoo and Doyoung hovering over you, their faces tight with worry. The air feels heavy with unspoken truths, and you can sense that neither of them is willing to bring up what just happened. Your condition is worsening, and it’s a reality you all avoid confronting.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jungwoo asks, his voice laced with concern. He brushes a stray hair from your forehead, and the coolness of his fingers sends a shiver down your spine.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. “I feel... okay. Just tired, I guess.” But you know it’s more than that. You know the truth.

Doyoung steps forward, his brow furrowing. “You scared us. We thought you were really hurt this time.”

You nod slowly, the weight of the unspoken hanging in the air. “I’m sorry for worrying you both.”

Jungwoo's eyes darken as he grips your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “I love you,” he says suddenly, his words hanging heavily between you. “I’ve waited a hundred years to say that.”

You sit up slowly, ignoring the ache in your body. “I don’t have much time left, Jungwoo.”

His jaw tightens, and he shakes his head vehemently. “No, you’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Why do you keep ignoring it?” you push back, frustration rising in your chest. “Every time I bring it up, you just change the subject. I’m dying, Jungwoo.”

His grip on your hand tightens, as if holding on harder can change reality. “You’re not. You just need to focus on getting better.”

“Jungwoo...” You can’t help but feel a sense of desperation in your chest, and you pull your hand away. “You need to let me go. You’ll be okay. You have Doyoung, and you’ll find me again. In another life.”

He leans closer, his expression fierce and unyielding. “I don’t want another version of you. I want you. If I can’t live in a world with you, then I won’t live in one without you.”

Tears blur your vision, and you bite your lip to keep from sobbing. You know he means it, and the thought of him not wanting to go on without you crushes your heart.

“Jungwoo,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I can’t—”

“Just tell me you love me back,” he urges, his voice breaking slightly.

You take a shaky breath, looking away from him. “I can’t. I need you to let me go.”

“I won’t,” he says fiercely. “You’re going to stay with me. We’re going to find a way.”

The fight leaves your body, and all you can do is surrender. “Will you read me a story?” you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, determination flickering in his gaze as he brushes his thumb over your cheek. “Of course. Anything for you.”

Doyoung silently excuses himself from the room, casting one last glance your way before closing the door behind him.

Jungwoo settles beside you, pulling you gently into his arms. As he flips through the pages of an old book, his voice fills the room like a lullaby. The words wrap around you, and slowly, your eyelids grow heavy.

Jungwoo’s voice is soft as he reads, the rhythm of his words lulling you deeper into sleep. His arms are warm around you, steadying you in a world that feels like it’s constantly shifting beneath your feet. As you drift off, you feel the weight of exhaustion pulling you under. When your breathing slows and your body relaxes, Jungwoo glances down at your tear-streaked face. Gently, he brushes your tears away with his thumbs, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary.

He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, as if to say the things he can’t bring himself to say out loud. You sleep on, undisturbed, even as he shifts out from under you, slipping quietly off the bed.

The room feels heavier without him, though you’re too far gone to notice the soft click of the door or the faint sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall.

When Jungwoo returns, he’s careful not to wake you. He carries something tucked behind his back, his expression unreadable in the dim moonlight spilling through the window. The mattress dips slightly under his weight as he slides back into bed, pulling you close like nothing’s changed.

You stir, eyelids fluttering open just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, illuminated by the eerie glow of the red moon outside. For a second, everything feels quiet and safe. But then your gaze drops to his hand.

There’s a dagger in it—gleaming silver, sharp, and cold.

Your stomach drops. The drowsiness leaves you all at once, replaced by a cold rush of fear.

“Jungwoo…” Your voice is shaky, like it belongs to someone else.

His eyes don’t waver. There’s a strange calm in them, as if he’s already made peace with what he’s about to do. “I won’t lose you again,” he whispers, his voice low and steady, almost tender.

Before you can stop him, he raises the dagger, the sharp edge catching the moonlight. You barely have time to think—your breath hitching in your throat—before your body takes over.

“No!” you cry, thrashing against him. Your panic explodes like wildfire, adrenaline fueling every movement. Somehow, you manage to slip out of his grip, your hands shoving him away just as the dagger begins to fall.

The blade clatters onto the bed, but Jungwoo’s already reaching for you, his eyes desperate.

You don’t give him the chance. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stumble off the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floor with a jarring thud.

“Y/n, wait—” His voice cracks, but you’re already gone.

The castle feels suffocating, walls closing in as you fly through the hallways, your pulse hammering in your ears. You shove the front doors open with a sharp creak, and the cool night air hits you like a slap.

You don’t stop. Not even when the branches of the forest whip against your skin, stinging like tiny knives. Every step feels clumsy and wild, but you keep going, sprinting deeper into the dark woods.

Behind you, he’s close—too close. You can feel him, not in a physical way but in that eerie, unsettling way that only Jungwoo can make you feel. Like a shadow that clings too tightly.

You bite back a sob and push yourself harder, lungs burning as the ground shifts beneath your feet. The night animals stir, their cries eerie and unnatural, twisting into strange, mocking laughter that sends chills down your spine.

But none of that matters. You can’t think. You can’t stop. All you know is that if you slow down, if you let him catch you—it’s over.

Your breath is ragged, every inhale sharp and painful, but the fear pushing you forward is stronger than the ache in your legs. Branches snap beneath your feet, leaves rustle around you, and still, you feel him closing in, like a storm that’s only seconds away from breaking.

You keep running, branches clawing at your skin and your breaths coming out in desperate gasps. The cold night air stings your lungs, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Then, through the shadows ahead, you spot it—his silhouette, standing perfectly still with the dagger glinting in his hand.

Your chest tightens as he takes a step toward you. Instinctively, you inch back, tears blurring your vision. “No, no, no... please, Jungwoo,” you whisper, your voice trembling, desperate. But he doesn’t respond. His eyes are locked on you, unreadable, determined. Every step you take back, he matches with one forward, closing the distance inch by inch.

You know screaming would be useless. The only person who could save you is the same one chasing you now. A sob escapes your lips as you look around frantically for a way out, but it’s like the forest itself is working against you, trapping you in.

Then, just like that—he’s gone.

You spin wildly, searching the darkness. “Where did you go?” you whisper, panic flooding your voice. The woods feel alive, the wind rustling the trees, twisting his name in the air like a taunt. Your pulse pounds in your ears, and every rustle of a leaf feels like it could be him, lurking just out of reach.

You stumble forward, looking behind you, then ahead—until you slam into someone.

Strong arms wrap around you, steadying you, and your whole body stiffens with fear. 

“I’ve got you.”

Doyoung’s voice is soft, impossibly gentle, like the calm before a storm. Relief crashes over you, and for a moment, you feel safe. You let out a shaky breath, sinking into his hold as if it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

Then you feel it—the sharp, cold weight of metal buried deep in your chest.

our body freezes as you stare down at the dagger lodged in your chest. You expect to feel pain—a sharp, blinding agony—but there’s nothing. No blood. No warmth leaving your body. Just an eerie stillness, as if the blade were nothing more than a shadow.

With shaky hands, you grip the dagger's hilt and slowly pull it free. There’s no resistance, no tear of flesh—just the quiet slide of metal against skin. The silence that follows is deafening. You should be dead. You know you should be. But here you are, standing in Doyoung’s arms, alive.

Your gaze flickers between the dagger and Doyoung, heart completely still just like the moment. His expression is unreadable, a strange mixture of sorrow and something else—something deeper. You choke on your breath, feeling betrayed but too stunned to speak.

“Why…?” Your voice is a broken whisper, trembling with disbelief.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks at you as if this is exactly how it was meant to happen.

“Jungwoo…” you murmur, your voice cracking as the realization sets in. You glance around wildly, expecting him to step out from the shadows, to stop whatever nightmare this is. But there’s only Doyoung, still holding you like you're fragile glass about to shatter.

The dagger slips from your fingers and lands with a dull thud on the forest floor. You stagger backward, breaking out of Doyoung’s grip, breath hitching in your throat as the weight of everything crashes down on you.

“You’re okay,” Doyoung says softly, kneeling beside you. His calm voice barely breaks through the chaos in your mind.

You clutch your chest, trying to make sense of what’s going on. “What’s happening to me?” you whisper, feeling a strange sensation blooming inside—like something ancient awakening, something you’ve never felt before.

Doyoung gently lifts you into his arms, holding you as if you weigh nothing. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. The familiar woods blur around you as he carries you back to the castle.

When you arrive, the heavy doors creak open, and you see Jungwoo pacing frantically inside, his movements restless and anxious. But the second his glowing eyes meet yours, his entire body stills.

You’re standing in front of him now, but the words catch in your throat. Instead of speaking, Jungwoo closes the distance, cupping your face in both hands. His touch is tender, as though he’s reassuring himself that you’re real. His eyes search yours desperately, and the tension in his expression eases only when he sees that, aside from a few scratches from the woods, you’re unharmed.

Without a word, Jungwoo takes your hand in his. You feel his fingers tremble slightly as he slides a silver ring over your finger. The cool metal settles on your skin like a promise, an unbreakable bond between you. He holds your gaze, his expression filled with something both triumphant and reverent.

“Now we can be together forever,” he whispers, his voice like a vow.

His words sink deep into the hollowness inside your unbeating heart, stirring something that feels strangely like joy. A soft smile tugs at your lips—your first since everything changed—and in that moment, the fear slips away, replaced by something new.

You lean in, brushing your lips against his, your new fangs grazing his bottom lip. Jungwoo exhales, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile against yours. There’s no urgency, just the quiet certainty of two souls finally finding each other after lifetimes apart. 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃.

[qtboni]

helloo boniiii (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) i hope ur doing okay todayyyy i saw that you hve ur reqs open and i have an idea!

the way chubby!reader is insecure of how she looks and Simon notices it and comforts her? bye sorry im like so bad at explaining but what would Simon do?

HELLO, BABI ! omg u got me there. im one of those peeps who gets so insecure easily 😔 and really, i want a husband like simon who can comfort me in bad times 😭 thank you for requesting this !!

╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Chubby!Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon reassures your insecurities with loving words, and you are overwhelmed with emotions, as he makes you realize the beauty in yourself that you can't see.

C/W: Hurt/comfort! body image issues, insecurities, mentions of body dysmorphia, intimate partner relationship (emotional support), reader expressing emotions and processing trauma, reader struggles with feelings of self-worth.

Simon's car doors shut with a loud thud, echoing through the garage and signaling his departure. A small sense of relief washed over you, knowing that you would have the whole day to yourself.

No more needing to pretend to be okay when you weren't. You slowly made your way to the bathroom and leaned towards the mirror. As you gazed into your reflection, the harsh lights amplified every imperfection.

'I hate how I look,' you thought to yourself as you gazed into the mirror. Every day, you spent too long in the restroom, staring at your reflection, trying to figure out what was wrong with yourself.

Your shoulders were too wide, tummy too fat, and your cheeks were getting fuller by the day. It also doesn't help that your legs look so big on you and the way your thighs would touch together quite so much. You felt gross and ugly, and it seemed like nothing you did could make a difference.

You sighed as you cupped your cheeks, pretending to pull them behind your face. You longed to be slim and thin, or at the very least, pretty. But no matter how hard you tried, it seemed like you were doomed to be the ugly duckling for the rest of your life.

"Why did I let myself get this way?" you wondered.

Tears started to fall from your eyes as your self-pity reached new heights. You didn't understand why everyone else seemed to have it all figured out, while you were stuck here, hating yourself more and more each day.

You wondered if you would ever be able to accept yourself for who you are, or if you would forever be doomed to feel inferior to everyone around you. It was a painful feeling, and one that you struggled with every single day.

Your eyes slowly shifted towards the mirror in the restroom again, and you let out a heavy sigh. Without even really thinking, you started to pinch and pull at your skin. Your fingers zeroed in on your thighs and you frowned, unable to help but focus on the parts of your body that you didn't like.

Your hand then moved to your midsection, and you stared at your reflection in the mirror, feeling defeated. You wanted to look different, you wanted to look like the pretty girls in the magazines and on social media.

You wanted to be beautiful.

Tears started forming in your eyes again, and you brushed them away before your sobs could come after. You didn't want anyone to see you like this - didn't want Simon to see. You didn't want him to know how much you hated yourself. But it was a constant struggle, and one that you fought every single day.

You pinched the fat on your stomach, pulling it from side to side and watching as it jiggled.

"Why can't I just look normal?" you asked yourself, your voice cracking.

You moved on to your thighs, pinching the flesh that had been collecting there over the past few months.

"I look gross," you said to yourself, voice barely above a whisper. "I hate.. my body."

Tears started to pool in your eyes as you began to pull at your cheeks and the edges of your mouth, trying to pull them back to make yourself look thinner.

"I just can't stand looking like this," you said to yourself again and again, your voice catching in your throat.

But no matter how much you pinched and pulled, you couldn't make yourself look the way you wanted. The image in the mirror still looked like you – tired, fat, and flawed. You turned away from the mirror, feeling defeated and alone.

You wanted so badly to be able to pull the fat away and make your face look the way you wanted. In your mind's eye, you imagined how much better you would look if you could just lose a few pounds, if your stomach wasn't so rounded, if your thighs weren't so thick.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to make a single inch of difference. The cycle of self-doubt and self-loathing was never-ending, and it seemed like you were doomed to remain trapped in your own head, unable to break free.

But then you looked down at the sink, and saw your reflection in the water, distorted and warped. You realized that in trying to fix your flaws, you had only made them worse. Your self-imposed torture was only making you hate yourself more.

It seemed like an eternity before you calmed down, your breathing slowing to a normal pace once again. However, you were still on the brink of tears.

What if Simon saw you like this? Would he still love you?

But you knew that Simon was more than just a pretty face. He was kind and gentle, and he accepted you for who you were, imperfections and all. As you stood in front of the mirror, you then stared at your reflection with a mix of sadness and frustration.

Your heart sank at the sound of a knock, and you quickly dried your tears. Then, your heart raced as your tried to compose yourself. You knew it was Simon – your husband, and the one person who understood you the most. You guys had been through a lot together, and you knew you could count on him to make everything better.

"I'm coming!" you called out, your voice shaky. You took a deep breath and smoothed down your clothes before making your way to the door.

As you opened it slowly, you saw Simon standing there, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Hey," Simon said softly, his voice full of compassion. He walked in and gave you a hug, as if he knew exactly what you needed. You hugged him back, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You knew that Simon would always be there for you, no matter what.

"Hi," You let out a deep sigh and rested your head on his shoulder. "You're back early?"

Simon's warm embrace was exactly what you needed. You felt your body loosen up and your heart start to calm down as you let out another slow, deep breath.

You felt him nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah, my plans got canceled," he said softly, rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

You leaned into his embrace, humming a reply, feeling a sense of comfort. You needed this, you thought to yourself. You needed someone to remind you that you weren't alone, and that there were people in your life who cared about you – people who loved you just the way you are.

Despite your best efforts to hide your feelings, it was obvious that something was wrong. Simon squeezed your shoulder gently, as if he could sense what you were thinking. He knew that you were going through a tough time, but he also knew that you needed someone to talk to – someone who would listen and understand without judgment.

You took another breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You were grateful for Simon. Grateful that he was in your life, and that he was there for you when you needed him the most.

"Is something wrong?" Simon asked, his tone soft and gentle.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You didn't want to appear weak or needy, but you also didn't know how to hide your emotions from Simon.

"Love?"

Finally, you replied, "I'm just having a bad day. It's nothing you need to worry about."

"But.. I am worried," Simon said, his voice filled with concern. He pulled away from the hug to look at you. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I.." You sighed, feeling the weight of your insecurity and self-hatred bearing down on you. "I don't know, Simon. I just feel like I'm not good enough. Like I don't measure up."

"What do you mean?" he asked, the confusion on his face evident.

You looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. "I, um, hate the way I look, I guess," you replied, trying to convey the depth of your dislike for yourself without stating it outright. You didn't want to burden him with the full extent of your self-loathing.

You watched as Simon's expression changed, going from confusion to concern. You sighed, knowing you had to be careful with your words. "It's just... I hate my body," you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon's eyes widened slightly, and you could tell he was beginning to understand.

"Oh, baby," he said softly. "You're beautiful, inside and out. I know it's hard, but try not to focus so much on how you look. There's so much more to you than that."

Simon leaned closer to you, his hand reaching out to hold your waist and the other at your chin. You looked up at Simon, grateful for his understanding and compassion.

"I know, but it's just so hard sometimes," you replied, your voice breaking again.

Simon pulled you into a hug, holding you close. "I know, love. But you're not alone. I'm here for you. You're not defined by your appearance. You're a kind, caring person, with so much to offer the world. Why'd you think I chose to marry you?"

You clung to Simon for a moment, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love he held for you.

"My love," he continued, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck in your ear. "You are more than enough. You are an amazing person, inside and out. I'm not just saying that. It's the truth. Understand, baby? The truth."

"I ... I can't do this," you choked as your sobs echoed the bathroom. It was all too much. It's as if you don't deserve all of his compliments to your body.

Simon took you into his arms, holding you close and rubbing your back soothingly. "Tell me, baby," he asked, his voice full of concern. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You took a deep breath and hesitantly told him everything – about your insecurities, about how you never felt good enough, about how you hated how you looked like.

You leaned into Simon's embrace, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence surrounding you. You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts and put them into words.

"It's just... I can't stop comparing myself to other people," you said finally, voice low and strained. "And every time I look at myself in the mirror, I just see all the things that are wrong with me. I can't seem to love myself, no matter how hard I try."

Simon squeezed your back, listening to you attentively.

"I know you mean well, Simon, but it's just so hard sometimes," you said, your voice still low and emotional. "I feel like everyone's always staring at me and judging me, especially when I wear something that shows off my body."

Simon's hand stroked your hair, trying to soothe your frazzled nerves. "You're beautiful, baby. And no one has the right to make you feel otherwise." He paused, his voice full of quiet intensity. "If anyone says anything to you, I'll deal with them, I promise."

Despite feeling down, you find yourself chuckling with tears in your eyes. His jokes were just so random and out of place, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Simon's voice was gentle and comforting as he pulled you closer to the hug, swaying your bodies in a slow, rhythmic motion.

"Tell me, pretty baby," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours. "What's eating away at you?"

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage before you answered. "Well, it's my cheeks firstly," you said quietly, voice shaking slightly. "They're too huge.."

Simon's arms tightened around you, his voice filled with compassion. He leaned away from the hug and cupped your cheeks together. "Huge? Really, baby?" he asked.

"Yes, really..." You leaned into his embrace again, feeling the warmth of Simon and the love he held for you.

"Pretty baby," He said, cupping your cheeks again together. "I love these chubby cheeks you have. It makes you look like a hamster and god, you look so cute with them, don't you know that?"

"But everyone else has a perfect appearance," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I'll never be able to measure up."

Simon's eyes closed for a moment, as if he were searching for the right words to say. "You don't have to compare yourself to anyone else," he said finally, his voice fierce. "You're perfect just the way you are, my love. And I'll always be here to remind you of that."

Simon then kissed both of your cheeks affectionately and you feel tears welling up in your eyes again. He asks, "Do you have any more?"

You sighed. "What about my hips and thighs?" You continued, voice shaky with insecurity. "They're too big, too curvy. I'll never be able to wear the things I want to wear."

Simon's face softened even more as he listened to your words, his eyes full of understanding.

"Sweet baby," He coos at you and carefully places both of his hands onto your waist. "Your hips and thighs are a part of you, and they're beautiful. Nobody has the right to tell you otherwise. Your curves are beautiful and I love how it fits well in my hands when I hold them to touch you."

Your tears wouldn't stop running down.

"They're my love handles from you, my love," He added and it had struck a chord in your heart. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders. His words had been like a balm to your soul, and you leaned into his embrace more, feeling a sense of peace and comfort wash over you.

Your tears continued to fall, but they were no longer those of sadness and insecurity. They were tears of gratitude, for having found someone who truly valued and loved you for who you are – curves and all.

You looked up at Simon, your eyes shimmering with a mix of joy and gratitude. "Thank you, Si’," you whispered, sniffing as you do so.

Simon stroked your cheek gently, his eyes full of love and affection. "You're welcome, baby. Fuck, I love you so much. Don't you ever forget that, okay?"

Simon's words hit you like a ton of bricks, lifting a weight you didn't even realize was there off of your shoulders.

"I love you too, Si'." You replied and rested your head on his shoulder, softly breathing in your choked sobs.

"I just want to love myself like how you love me." You cried into his embrace, all of the pain and insecurity you'd carried with you for so long finally coming to a head.

"I believe in you, love," Simon replied, his voice filled with conviction. "You're strong and capable and beautiful, inside and out. You don't need anyone else's approval to be those things. And I promise, I'll always be here to remind you of who you truly are."

You felt his arms tighten around you, his embrace warming you from the inside out. His words of encouragement filled you with a newfound sense of confidence, and you felt a sense of hope rising within you.

As Simon's words registered with you, you felt the weight of the tears rolling down your cheeks like an onslaught. You had been carrying the burden of your insecurities for so long, and the idea of someone else understanding what you were going through, and even accepting you for who you are, made you feel like maybe there was still hope.

Simon's embrace grew even tighter as he held you, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. You could feel the comfort and warmth exuding from his body, and it made you feel like you were at home.

"Thank you," you said, nuzzling into his neck further. "I don't know what I would do without you, Si'"

"You'll never have to find out," Simon replied, his voice full of determination. "I'll be here for you, always. You're not alone, love. We'll face your insecurities together."

With those words and a kiss to your shoulder, you felt a sense of peace and acceptance wash over yourself. You knew that, with Simon on your side, you could get through anything, even your own perceived flaws and imperfections.

You leaned into his embrace more, feeling safe and loved for the first time in what felt like forever.

A/N: what the fuck. this made me cry again holy shit this rlly hit a nerve inside. what have u done to me anon !! jk i love this <//3

and to anyone who related to this, if you're feeling insecure about your body and struggling with body image issues, it's important to remember that you are so much more than your appearance. Everyone has their own unique features and qualities that make them special and valuable. Try to focus on your positive traits, both inside and out :) Surround yourself with supportive people who see you for who you truly are and appreciate you for all that you are. Remember that it's okay to have days where you don't feel your best, but try to be gentle with yourself and give yourself time to heal and grow <//3

Remember that you are not alone, and there are people who care about you and can help you through this difficult time !! It might be helpful to seek professional help or support groups if you feel like you're struggling. Ultimately, remember that your worth as a person is not tied to your appearance or weight. You are so much more than your exterior and deserve love and kindness no matter what. <//3

[cosmicbrowniebox]

Not a lot just forever. Episode four? i don't smoke

Previous -> next -> navigation -> playlist

Warnings: suicide jokes but sarcastically, cheating uhhh and idk but just probably heavy angst towards the end and reader tells Terushima to get lobotomized

A/n:I worked so long on this including otw home from the zoo a little bit but erm idk enjoy

Walking into Y/N’s apartment felt weird to Kenma in a way. Yachi, mid-stream herself, had pointed him in the direction of Y/N's art and streaming room, providing a bag of her favorite snacks and the cheap beer she always liked. The door, reminiscent of the one from the house he remembered her living in before graduation, was decorated with a small painted sign labeled “Y/N's streaming room,” matching all the door signs on each room. For an apartment, it sure felt spacious, but with a famous model and two well-known artists living there, it was to be expected.

“I think she might be streaming if she doesn't open the door,” Alisa called out to him from her open bedroom door. He nodded in thanks as he watched her go back into her bedroom. Knocking on the door twice, he could faintly hear her tell her stream to hold on before hearing shuffling toward the door. It opened, revealing Y/N with a face full of blue paint and the start of purple spots. He tilted his head at the sight.

“I almost forgot you said you were coming with beer,” she told him. He could tell she probably did forget, as her eyes darted down to the bag he held in his right hand. “Come in; chat's gonna love this,” she said, opening the door for him.

The sight of her room was almost funny to him. The walls seemed to be covered head to toe in some form of art or decoration, along with photos of her and her friends or family. A faint sound of Mitski played as she walked back into the frame of her stream. “Come say hi, Ken,” she told him, waving him over as she dragged out another gaming chair from what he had been told was the “closet of doom” so they could both sit.

“Hi, chat,” he said as he pulled out the case of beers and snacks he had gotten at the corner store. As he pushed the chair toward him and sat down, it sounded like she had an epiphany behind him.

“I almost forgot!” she said to no one in particular as he watched the chat confusedly fly past. “Gotta show you what I was telling you about a few days ago,” she told him with a big smile. As he turned around, he could tell she had been working on it for a long time.

“Close your eyes,” she said, not giving him a chance to interject. He closed his eyes, hearing the sound of her shuffling around in the closet. After a small thud and a string of curses, the door clicked shut. “Okay, on the count of three… one, two, three!” she said as he opened his eyes, blinking a few times to readjust to the lights. He looked straight at the painting, realizing it was of him. It looked cropped just to have him in it, with his PSP and freshly bleached hair making a star appearance.

“It’s for you hitting ten mil on Twitter,” she told him as she set it in his lap, letting him take a better look at it. The painting was detailed, with every stroke seeming like its own little chapter of their life since they had met. “It’s amazing, Y/N,” he mumbled, his fingers running gently across the edge of the painting as if trying to memorize every point and curve.

“I knew you were a good artist, I always have, but this is just… it’s just perfect. Truly perfect,” he told her as he watched her crack open a beer, unable to decipher the look in her eyes. Maybe it was a sense of fondness she held for him or perhaps it was pride in her art. Either way, it was a look he always liked to see on her.

“I'm really glad you like it. I was really worried you weren't gonna like it for some reason,” she said with a sheepish smile before taking a big sip of her beer, careful not to get paint on the rim.

“Chat, should we paint Kenma's face?” she asked, pulling the mic up close to her as if it'd give a more dramatic aura to her question, despite looking like she was supposed to be in a very bad version of Five Nights at Freddy's. He watched as the chat flew past, with comments suggesting characters like Barney the Dinosaur or All Might.

“I'll start a poll to get some ideas,” she said to no one in particular as she typed names he could spot, like Barney the Dinosaur or characters from Neon Genesis Evangelion. After a few minutes, the poll had stopped, signaling his 'demise' at the idea of being painted to look like an Evangelion unit.

“I swear, if you guys picked the Eva unit, you're going in the note,” he said sarcastically, staring at the camera. “You make it sound like my chat is your thirteenth reason why,” Y/N said with a laugh as she read it.

“Yachi asked if she had voted for the Evangelion one, she would get first named in your note,” she told him, looking over at him with eyes he wanted to say reminded him of stars watching him throughout the night. Instead, it was her; she was his star in the night sky, watching him hit all these milestones and being his support through everything.

“Yachi, you're going in the note for when Mochi bit me a few days ago,” he answered, earning a laugh from her. “Wait, so the Unit One choice won?” he asked, looking over at the screen where the poll had been pulled up for her to watch. “It won't be that bad, I swear, Ken!” she told him, pulling up a reference photo of the unit itself.

“It looks like something you would see in a horror movie, Y/N. It is that bad. After Kuro showed me an episode, I had nightmares,” he said, referring to the first time he had seen Neon Genesis Evangelion when they were kids. He refused to watch it again because he didn't want more nightmares, even though he was ten when Kuro dragged him into watching episodes of it.

“Didn't he say you refused to go near his TV for ages because you thought an angel was gonna come out and attack you?” she asked with a smile as she pulled out the paint needed, disregarding the fact she hadn't even finished her own Bibble face paint.

“If this stains your face, do you think your fangirls are gonna kill me?” she asked jokingly, aware that some of his fangirls could be a bit weird about him, but who wouldn't be weird about a sweet guy who played games that someone like them had been into?

“I mean, probably, but they'll just want you to bribe them or something,” he answered, scooting his chair slightly closer so they were facing each other. Her knee moved slightly, resting between his, her gaze unaware of the proximity as she got the paint ready.

“Guys, if he looks stupid, you should make it your Twitter profiles. It'll be so funny,” she told her chat, rummaging through a box of acrylic paint. She turned back to him with a smile that made him feel like she was the sun and he was the moon. The silence was comforting, with music playing softly in the background as the brush moved gently against his skin.

“Did I ever tell you about the one time in high school I thought you were Kuro’s little brother?” she asked, taking a sip of her beer. It was obvious the drinks were starting to hit her, and he found it funny as she painted half of his cheek a deep purple.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you did.”

She started a small rant. “It was the one day Morisuke brought me with him during our first year because he wanted me to manage the team. I think it was like the first week when all the third years were still there. When we got introduced, I thought you two were siblings at first because your hair looked similar before you got me to start helping you bleach it,” she laughed, reminiscing.

“Oh God, I hated my hair so much back then until I realized how damaged it was in third year, so I decided to stop for a while,” he chuckled, the tipsy girl in front of him reminding him of their early twenties when they’d go to bars and she’d turn into a rambling mess, slurring her words if she drank too much.

“You were always so pretty with brown hair. It was a good look on you,” she mumbled almost loud enough to be picked up by the mic sitting nearby.

“Maybe I’ll have to let it grow out again,” he responded softly. If someone walked into the room right now, it would seem like the two were in their own little world, like she was a girl on the side of a building dolled up, looking as pretty as anyone could imagine, and he was the passerby staring up in awe.

The silence was comforting as she painted his face, the brush moving against his skin. He tried to keep up with the chat, a flash on the screen catching his eye: a thing of gifted subs with a message, “At this point, why don’t you two get married?”

Y/N laughed, reading the comment. “We’re just friends. I don’t think marrying anyone is in my cards for a long time, anon,” she said into the mic, then turned back to the bag of snacks he had brought. She gasped when she saw the handrolls and bag of pretzels. “He’s an angel, guys! He got us handrolls and pretzels. Someone needs to marry this man right now.”

“I knew you’d be hungry,” he said, watching her crack open the bag of pretzels and sit the bag under her monitor so it was easy for them both to grab. A ding from her phone indicated hundreds of notifications from Twitter and texts from her friends.

“Is your phone blowing up too?” she asked, flipping her phone up to see who had been texting her, spotting messages from her group chat with Kiyoko, Alisa, and Hitoka, and thousands of notifications from Twitter. She barely had time to process what was happening before messages in the chat told her to look at Twitter when she got off-stream.

“Y/N, turn the stream off,” he mumbled. His serious tone, unusual for him, indicated that something important had happened. Nodding, she turned her chair to use her keyboard.

“Alright, guys, I’m gonna get off here. I’ll be streaming at the same time as usual on Saturday,” she told the thousands of viewers, her voice betraying her worry. Once she was off-stream, he showed her the tweet. He watched the color drain from her face. He knew their relationship had been on the rocks, but finding out Terushima had cheated on her through Twitter must have made her feel sick to her stomach. She took his phone to read the replies from over six thousand people, including some of their friends and her brother, all confused and angry.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled, standing up. His eyes followed her as she walked out of the room. After a minute, he decided to go get Yachi. His footsteps were soft against the hardwood floor as he knocked on the door labeled “Toka’s office.”

“Come in,” he heard Yachi yell. He opened the door to see her looking like she had just gotten off-stream herself.

“I’m gonna head out, but Y/N looks like she’s gonna be sick after reading the tweets. I think it might be a good idea for someone to stay with her right now. I think you or Alisa may be all she wants with everything going on,” he told her, his voice almost quiet. Yachi stood up, and he backed up slightly to give her space.

“Thank you for being with her, Kenma. She probably really appreciates it,” she said with a kind smile. She understood his hesitation to stay, knowing Y/N probably only wanted to sit in the bathroom with a beer and contemplate her whole relationship.

“Mhm. Let her know I’ll call her if she wants to talk at all tonight. I’m just doing paperwork once I get back to my place,” he responded before walking with Yachi to check on Y/N.

“Hey, paint eater. I’m gonna head home. Yachi’s gonna stay with you,” he told Y/N, who sat with her head in her knees beside the toilet.

“Mhm. Have a good night, Ken. Make sure you grab the painting,” she mumbled, her voice muffled. He nodded, leaving the pair in the bathroom. He assumed Alisa wouldn’t be far behind as he spotted Mochi leaving the back hall where her room was, the cat almost leading him back to the room they’d been sitting in. The edge of the table propped up the portrait of him. He had almost forgotten about the face painting. Standing there for a moment, his hands ran over the painting's edge as he tried to formulate how to leave without looking like a complete and utter dickhead. But he knew deep down she was in better hands with Yachi and Alisa. They probably knew what to tell her and how to cheer her up.

He grabbed his car keys in a swift movement but saw a little sticky notepad. Instinctively, he grabbed a pen from her jar on the desk, scribbling down a little cat drawing of Mochi and a small message telling her she was a good person and that he would always be in her corner. He stuck the pink sticky note on the rim of her monitor for her to see once she felt good enough to come back into her art room.

His quiet steps hit the hardwood floor as he made eye contact with Alisa, who gave him a slight smile of greeting and goodbye. He made his way to the front door of the shared apartment, the halls full of cheesy photos they had taken, making them look like family portraits and old awards from art contests. Setting the painting down momentarily, he slipped on his sneakers, acknowledging the glaring cat sitting on its tree before finally walking out the door, painting in hand, not even caring that he must have looked crazy with half a face of semi-dry purple paint.

Even with the guilt of leaving her, it was probably for the best. He knew it wasn't a good idea to leave after having come over to console her because of what happened with her mother that morning. But now he was walking away after being the one to tell her Terushima had cheated on her. He must have looked like a complete asshole, but he was glad she hadn’t found out while still on stream. She would have been even more of a wreck. Now, he just needed to tell the group chat what happened, even though he knew they already knew. Everyone did.

Tags: @metta-crybaby @wyrcan @kunimix @phoenix-eclipses @bae-ashlynn @lotti-lyric @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

Fun facts and random info I wanted to tell u

This was originally supposed to be fluff

I didn't intend to do this chapter that way it actually was supposed to be for the ending of it have kenma and yn having a heart to heart but instead it ended up as this

She's the epitomy of screaming crying throwing up

This might seem really rushed breakup wise for these two but nothing romantic happens between kenma and yn for awhile still I just wanna add that

Next chapter might come later tonight depending how long it takes me to plan and do it

Also chapters might be slow even tho they already are because I'm behind on some stuff and I also have crochet projects I need to work on rlly bad but I'll cook in between for y'all

[fandaniel]

hello rio my friend rio. what is the deal with this fandaniel guy

oh brother. youre gonna regret this. i dont know if i can explain this shortly. also putting this under break because i am trying to avoid spoilers for my mutuals not there in the game yet.

fandaniel is a guy who is part of the soul of another character named hermes, long story how his soul got all split up and goes into the games lore but anyways. fandaniel is a guy who was formerly also named amon who was a lead scientist thousands of years ago, his goal in life was to let everyone live forever and let the empire he lived in flourish (even if it was morally a bad thing to do, trolley problem kind of shit). he wondered what the afterlife looked like often, what was out there, he was told by the emperor (that he brought back to life) that there was nothing.

when the empire started to die, he was presented by a guy who told him that he was needed and unless he followed him he would die with the empire. he gained his memories of all the past lives he ever had inside a thing made for hermes thats called a soul crystal. and well. it fucked him up badly but we will get back to that. also he is immortal now.

so he took the title of 'fandaniel' under the guy who needed him, worked with him and a few others who wanted to burn this world down and go back to how things were in the past before everyones souls got split up due to a great calamity that almost destroyed everything. but the world before was kinda like. fucked up in a bunch of small ways. like individuality was seen as incredibly socially taboo so everyone wore the same things, creatures outside their race weren't seen as living, etc.

that circles back to what he was before, hermes. so hermes was the overseer of creation, since in the past you could make new creatures and then they would be tested heavily by scientists.

hermes didn't like society's view of these creatures, to be used and killed to better humanity, if they didn't better society or needed help such as disabilities they had to be put down, no matter how much he wanted to help. he became very miserable due to this. he wanted to see what others outside of his world lived like because of this.

he made meteia, many small creatures apart of a hivemind in the shape of a bird that could easily travel into space, and left one with him to get reports of the other meteias findings, but gave the creature free will because he felt bad for having to keep her there. they communicated sensing the emotions of others, and could feel the same as them.

so fandaniel is a title, like i said before, and there was another fandaniel in that role, but he said his job was done and wanted to pass away (it choice he made, passing away was a choice for them.) hermes is upset heavily by the idea of someone wanting to die and keeps rejecting the role.

long story short because jesus fuck i'm yapping. meteia told the meteion with hermes the truth they had seen, that there was nothing else in the universe, and this overloads meteion as she speaks of the horrors the other meteia's experienced in space. everyone around them is like ? what the fuck, hermes, stop that thing. and when backed into a corner of letting others take meteion, killing her for her 'defects', he stops everyone and lets her go on her mission to destroy the world, because if humanity is so perfect they should have no problem stopping her. hermes erases everyone elses memories of this and his own, staying with humanity to stop her when the time comes.

he takes the role of fandaniel against his will, and is incredibly upset because he thinks he has killed meteion. the girl he clearly saw as his daughter.

back to current. fandaniel has to live with the knowledge that he doomed the past world, and that he doomed the present, and kind of has to let that sit with him for thousands of years. he goes a bit crazy insane jester as a act to distance himself from himself. he hates hermes for being so sensitive but shows it in himself. he tries to bring in the end days by killing himself but fails badly.

basically; he is his own worst enemy and he is empathic to a fault when he is isn't putting on a act. he wants to understand what is beyond life and couldn't handle there was nothing.

[rosemary-morgan]

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part1)

(Pictures found on pinterest/google. That one with Javier is mine. Collage made by me 🌺)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

And thanks to all who read and like my stories. Stay healthy and take care, my lovely bees 🐝🌺 You have no idea how much this means to me. I hope you will enjoy this story too!

👉Read Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Warning: angst, arguments

Summary: You thought that nothing could tear you and Javier apart, but nothing lasts forever. And after so many years you still shed tears for him. The nights without him are lonely and cold. You would give anything to see him just one more time. To touch him one last time...

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part1)

"Javi, please! Can't you see what's going on?!"

"Y/N! Come with me or you're going to die! Don't you understand?!"

His hands had a tight grip on your shoulders, which was now starting to hurt a little. There was pure desperation in his gaze because he couldn't and wouldn't see that you weren't choosing his path.

"You will be the one who will die if you continue to follow Dutch, Javier!"

Did he really think she would let him run to his doom? Why was this man so damn stubborn? So blinded by pride?!

"Are you one of them now, Y/N?! Are you turning your back on Dutch too?!"

Javier didn't even wait for an answer, but pulled you behind him without warning. If you wouldn't go voluntarily, then he would have to force you to go. Javier did it out of love for you, because he firmly believed that his way was the right one. Oh, how blinded he was by Dutch. And Micah… that viper! Like poison creeping through his veins, Javier was now completely poisoned by Micah's words, his lies.

As much as you loved Javier, you couldn't go with him. Javier paused as you tore yourself away from him. Furrowing his brow, he looked you straight in the eye, searching for an explanation for your actions.

"Javier, I'm not going anywhere where Dutch or Micah will be!"

"What the fuck, Y/N?!"

Javier's voice suddenly got louder, something he had never done to you before. You couldn't even stay mad at him. The only thing you felt was pity and fear; the fear of losing him for good. And you feared that you would. You had grown apart over the last few weeks, barely touching each other, not even kissing. Javier had sat with Micah constantly, letting Dutch use him like a puppet.

"Micah is the rat! He betrayed us! And Dutch is on the verge of despair!"

But your words seemed to be falling on deaf ears because it seemed like Javier just didn't even care what you said.

"Come with me, Javier!" Quite desperate, you clawed at his arms, looking up at him hopefully. Maybe something would get through to him! It was worth a shot!

"I owe Dutch my life, Y/N!"

"He doesn't own it though! Stop saying things like that!"

Suddenly, gunfire rang through the forest. It seemed to be a firefight, farther away, but close enough to hear them clearly. Beaver Hollow was no longer safe. This place had been cursed from the beginning! You were convinced of that.

Javier immediately pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment you realized how serious this whole story was. But it also showed you that he cared for your safety. Closing your eyes for a moment, you enjoy the closeness with Javier. But your peace was not to last long. You hear horses approaching. It was Dutch, followed by Micah and his new "friends". Your withering gaze carries Micah with full force and his cold eyes just stare at you. He knew exactly what you thought of him and he also knew that you didn't trust him one bit. He couldn't fool you, so you were a danger to him. A danger that had to be eradicated. Like a venomous insect that needed to be squashed immediately.

And in the end, Micah and Dutch had succeeded in robbing you of the most precious thing in life. You will never be able to forget Javier's last words. Like a sharp blade of a dagger, they had pierced your heart.

"Well, fuck you then, Y/N! Go you traitor! Go die with them!"

♦♦♦♦

It has been five years now. Five years ago, your family had broken apart. Because of a man who had lost his mind at the end. Because he had trusted the wrong people at the end of his road. You'd never forgive Dutch for what he'd done to Arthur… To him and all the others. How he had taken Javier away from you. The man you had loved so much and still do. Not a day went by that you didn't think about him. The eternal long nights in which you lay in bed crying and restless because the longing was too great. You had believed that it would get better with time, but you had been very wrong. Now you felt only loneliness and emptiness, because your soul piece was missing. Still, you had hope that Javier had survived and perhaps lived a good life. Yes, maybe he had moved on. Like you had. Like John and Abigail. Or like Tilly and Mary-Beth. All of you had moved on, had managed to join society, to live an honest life.

"Wonderful, Y/N. I'll send you the fabrics you ordered then. It usually takes a couple of weeks."

"Thank you Mister Oelson!"

"My pleasure. And here's another little something for you!"

Mister Oelson provided you with fabrics because you were a dressmaker and you worked from home. And the best fabric just happened to be at Saint Denis. Besides, you had been buying so much from Oelson's merchandise over the past few years that you were getting discounts, which of course was very good for you.

"This is from my wife and me. As a thank you, for the beautiful dress you made for her!"

The gift from Mister Oelson was wrapped in such a way that you couldn't even guess what must be hiding inside.

"Oh, that's very kind of you! Thank you. Pass on my thanks to your wife. How is Harriet, then?"

"Oh, you know her. She makes a mountain out of a molehill. It's just a little cold, that's all."

Mr. Oelson laughed softly, making you smile with his words.

Mr. and Mrs. Oelson were a married couple in their late forties. They were very friendly and their merchandise was really popular in Saint Denis. One could purchase just about anything from them. Fine fabrics, perfume, fine wine, and jewelry as well. They had made a good name for themselves in Saint Denis.

"Goodbye, Mister Oelson. See you soon!"

And with that, you left the store, satisfied and happy with your order, which was soon to be delivered to you. It was already late in the afternoon and actually you would have liked to spend some more time in Saint Denis, but you still had a long journey home ahead of you. You lived in Strawberry, had made yourself at home there. It was a wonderful place, out in the fields, where you had fertile land to grow many things. Of course, all this didn't fall into your lap. It had been a long, hard road to where you were now. In the first years after you were on your own, you had worked hard, had to listen to many negative things as a single, young woman. Harassment had been the order of the day, but that had not upset you. And now you were your own boss, able to do what you loved from your home. Making beautiful clothes. It helped you to get other thoughts, but sometimes it happened that you thought back to the past and in such moments, you couldn't help but shed many tears.

Just as you entered the train station to buy a ticket, you saw the many people standing there. They looked angry. Some had their suitcases with them, probably eagerly waiting for their connection.

"Oh, miss. Excuse me, but all train service has been suspended for the day!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"There's been an accident on the line from Blackwater to Saint Denis."

With a soft sigh, you glanced at your watch. Well, there was probably nothing you could do about the situation, so it wouldn't do you much good to fret.

"Miss, it's getting dark outside. The streets aren't very safe here at night in Saint Denis."

You smiled at the police officers, nodding. You knew how dangerous Saint Denis was, even during the day.

"Thank you, officer."

A shrill and loud whistle was heard, followed by a yelling police officer, apparently trying to restrain a few of the travelers. You were getting too stressed out in all this chaos and without further ado, you started looking for a suitable place to stay.

Just as you were about to leave the station, you noticed a scent. A scent that you would recognize among thousands of people. Instantly you stopped, your heart stopped for a moment. Could it be? Your eyes grew wide as memories were evoked in you. Spicy lavender. It was just a small whiff in the air, but it was so intense for you. "Javier…" You frowned, looking down at the floor, trying to sort out your thoughts in the moment. No, that could be anyone here! Anyone could smell like spicy lavender! Or maybe your mind was just playing tricks on you. The worst part of the whole thing was the feeling of disappointment. Every time you had to realize that he wasn't there. Who knew where Javier was? Still, your eyes kept a lookout for him. But he was nowhere to be seen. There were only loud, strange people here. But the feeling of being watched was very intense. Still, without wasting any more time, you left this place and went to a hotel where you would spend the night. Hoping that tomorrow morning you could return back home. It will be another restless night for you…

♦♦♦♦

Looking up into the night sky, smoke slowly rose from his lungs to ascend into the dark night. Javier watched as the smoke slowly dissipated. He couldn't believe that he had actually found you. He had been looking for you for so long, but now he didn't have the courage to face you. Not after what he had done. You would probably send him packing if he suddenly faced you without warning. And he wouldn't even blame you. But his longing for you had driven him on. The thought of you had very often kept him from doing stupid things.

Since the thing with Dutch, Micah… and Arthur, nothing good had happened in his life. He was a lone wolf; though he kept telling himself that he didn't deserve it any other way…

[inkedwithcharm]

Title: The Astronaut

Genre: Sci-Fi, Romance, Slice-of-life, Humor, Angst

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Sypnosis:

He was The Astronaut with stars in his blood.

She was the voice he carried across the void.

They weren't meant to fall in love.

Not on a mission doomed by silence,

not under skies that promised loss.

But in the dark between Earth and the unknown,

they found something like happy-fleeting, fragile, real.

Now his voice is an echo fading into space,

and she's racing time to answer the only question that matters:

Can love survive when the stars go silent?

Chapter Four: Dinner and Deception

If stress could launch a rocket, you would've been halfway to Mars by the time you walked into the restaurant.

Your mother's text had been clear:

"Dinner. 7PM sharp. Wear something decent."

So naturally, you showed up with a six-foot-tall astronaut in a charcoal blazer, broad shoulders, and a grin that could win diplomacy awards.

"I still think we should've told them I was coming," Jin murmured as you approached the table.

"That would've been normal," you hissed.

"Then what fun would it be?"

You nearly turned around and left him at the bar.

"Y/N, you're—" Your mother stood halfway from her seat, elegant as always, then froze mid-sentence. "—not alone."

Her eyes snapped to Jin.

Your father looked up from his menu, blinked once, and paused.

"Surprise!" Jin said, radiating sunshine. "I'm Kim Seokjin. Y/N's boyfriend. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Ma'am."

Your mother's perfectly glossed lips parted slightly, confusion flickering across her face like a glitch in perfect programming.

Your dad just... stared.

"I... didn't know you were seeing anyone," your mother said, recovering quickly, though her eyes never left Jin's. "Y/N didn't mention you."

"She likes to keep me all to herself," Jin said with a perfectly charming smile. "I respect the secrecy. She's very protective."

You gave him a sharp side-eye as he pulled your chair out like a gentleman—of course.

Your mother's brow rose. But to your horror, her lips curved into something resembling delight.

"Oh, he's polite," she said as she sat back down.

"He's too much," you muttered.

"What was that, Starbeam?" Jin asked, settling beside you. "You say the sweetest things when you're shy."

You wanted to sink under the table and live there forever.

"So," your mother said, elegantly lifting her wine glass. "Mr. Kim. You're an astronaut?"

"In training, yes. But fully certified to make your daughter's eyes roll at any given moment."

Your father blinked again. Your mother... laughed.

Actually laughed.

You gawked at her.

"I see you're also... amusing," she said.

"I dabble," Jin said. "But only when I'm not crash-landing flight simulations or trying to impress my girlfriend's intimidatingly beautiful mother."

She nearly choked on her wine.

"Oh, I like him," she said, placing her glass down. "You didn't say he was charming."

"I didn't say anything because I didn't plan on doing this," you muttered.

Jin placed a hand over yours under the table, casual, warm.

Just pretend.

Right?

"So," your mom continued, eyes locked on Jin like a hawk. "Where are you from?"

"Born in Gwacheon. Raised by my mom who's stronger than most war generals. I have a cousin who works at NASA—he's our mission director, Kim Namjoon. And I've wanted to touch the moon since I was seven."

There was something in his voice—lighthearted, but grounded. Like the truth hidden under a joke.

"And your intentions with my daughter?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye now.

You opened your mouth to cut in, but Jin beat you to it—hand still on yours.

"To adore her. At a safe emotional distance until she stops threatening me with her fork."

"I will stab you," you whispered.

"She's shy," Jin told your mother with a stage-whisper. "It's adorable."

Your mother was beaming.

"She's the serious one," Jin continued. "Me? I lighten the mood. Make her laugh. Remind her that she doesn't always have to carry the galaxy on her shoulders."

Your chest tightened.

Your mother, now sipping wine like she was watching a romcom in real time, smiled. "You might be the best thing she's brought to dinner in years."

Your dad just muttered, "He's fine."

Which, from him, was basically shouting approval.

You stepped into the night air, ready to combust from the amount of secondhand embarrassment coursing through your veins.

"She loved you," you groaned.

"I mean, can you blame her?" Jin said, hands in his pockets, cool as ever. "I'm amazing. And humble."

"She is now going to ask me if you're 'the one' for the next five years."

"Then let's fake marry. Really sell it."

You gave him a long look. "You're unbelievable."

He smiled, stepping closer.

"Hey," he said, his voice dipping into something quieter. "You were nervous. I could feel it. But you handled it perfectly."

You blinked.

"I was nervous because this—this wasn't supposed to feel real."

His smile faltered—just for a second. But then he leaned in and whispered:

"Then let me keep pretending so well... it starts to."

Your heart didn't stop racing the whole ride home.

The night had quieted, but your thoughts hadn't.

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to breathe past the phantom weight of your mother's smile and Jin's words:

"She doesn't always have to carry the galaxy on her shoulders."

You hadn't expected him to say that.

Hadn't expected him to see that.

You should've been annoyed. You should've dismissed it.

But you couldn't.

So instead, at midnight, you found yourself climbing the narrow service stairs to the rooftop above the dormitory-style NASA facility. The air was cool, and the sky was velvet-black—scattered with stars that looked like dust on glass.

You settled on a bench, hoodie pulled tight, eyes fixed on Orion's belt.

It was your favorite place since childhood.

The one constant. The one truth.

The stars never judged you.

They just were.

You heard him before you saw him—his familiar, heavy-footed gait, the faint sound of him muttering to himself.

You didn't turn around.

"You always stargaze when you're emotionally compromised?" Jin asked gently, his voice less teasing, more curious.

You sighed. "Only when my fake boyfriend flirts too well with my very judgmental mother."

He chuckled softly and walked over, hands in his jacket pockets. "She's not judgmental. She was in love with me by my handsomeness."

"Don't remind me," you muttered.

He sat down beside you, just close enough for warmth, but not enough to cross a line. "Did I overdo it?"

You glanced at him.

"No," you admitted. "You were... kind. You made her laugh. You made me laugh."

He looked a little surprised by that.

"Not everything has to be an act," he said quietly after a beat.

"That's rich coming from the guy who's been fake-dating me for a week."

He smirked, then paused, turning serious. "Maybe I'm not pretending as much as I thought."

Your breath caught.

There it was again—that slow, dangerous unraveling.

That moment where the space between you shrank without either of you moving.

You tilted your head back, breaking the tension, eyes locked on the constellations above.

"I used to think the stars had answers," you said. "When I was a kid, I used to ask them things."

"Like what?"

"Like... 'What if I'm not good enough?' or 'What if I fail?' Or..." You hesitated. "What if no one ever really sees me?"

Jin was silent for a long moment.

"I see you," he said softly. "You hide in plain sight. But I see you."

You turned slowly to look at him.

He wasn't smiling. Wasn't teasing. Just... looking.

And for the first time, you felt entirely uncovered.

It was terrifying.

And warm.

And something else you didn't have a name for.

"Why did suggest this?" you whispered. “This whole fake boyfriend thing?"

Jin leaned back on his hands, eyes still on the sky. "Because I wanted to make you laugh again. And because when you looked at that message from your mom... you looked like you were carrying the weight of Jupiter. And I figured, I could help. Even if it's just playing pretend."

You exhaled slowly.

"You're exhausting," you said.

He grinned. "You mean charming."

"I mean impossible."

"Same thing."

You bumped your shoulder into his.

He didn't pull away.

And neither did you.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. The stars didn't move, but something inside you did.

You didn't kiss.

You didn't touch beyond that shared warmth on a quiet rooftop bench.

But when Jin glanced at you again, eyes soft and voice quieter than the breeze, he asked:

"Can I keep being your fake boyfriend a little longer?"

You nodded.

Because the truth was—

You weren't sure where the acting stopped anymore.

And the scariest part?

You weren't sure if you wanted it to.

You saw him before he saw you.

Kim Seokjin, stretching outside the simulation wing like he hadn't just shattered your emotional defenses under the stars twelve hours ago. He was laughing with Jimin and Jungkook, his hair slightly tousled, his flight suit unzipped just enough to show the white undershirt that made him look like he walked off a K-drama set.

You paused by the lockers, steeling yourself.

He had said nothing wrong. Had done nothing wrong.

But your heart was not behaving professionally.

"Looking for someone, Star Commander?" a familiar voice drawled beside you.

You turned—and groaned. "Taehyung."

"Your face is red." He tilted his head. "Is it the altitude or the astronaut?"

You shoved past him. "Not today, Tae."

Behind you, he smirked like a cat who had found cream.

The day's simulation was brutal.

You were deep into Orbital Emergency Response Training, running a scenario where one of the engines failed mid-mission and the team had to manually correct the descent path. It was all calculations, thrust vectoring, and controlled panic.

Namjoon and Yoongi stood at the observation deck above, watching through the glass with their arms crossed like hawks.

"Alright, team," Namjoon's voice crackled through the speakers. "You've got six minutes before catastrophic failure. Communicate and stabilize."

"I need altitude readouts," you called. "Jimin?"

"Dropping fast," Jimin said. "I'm adjusting thrusters."

"Kook, lateral drift?"

"Negative. Holding steady."

And then—

"Captain Y/N," Jin said from beside you, leaning dramatically over the console. "Permission to stop being unbelievably handsome and focus?"

You glared. "Denied."

"Thank God," Jungkook muttered. "He hasn't shut up since 6 AM."

Jin winked and returned to his panel. "Executing adjustment on throttle vectors. If we crash, I'm blaming gravity. And that restaurant's lasagna."

"Her mom loved me," he sing-songed. "She was basically ready to adopt me."

Jimin burst out laughing, losing focus for a second. The simulator jolted.

"Eyes front, Park!" Namjoon snapped.

Everyone sobered immediately.

You pushed through the tension and locked eyes with Jin. "Focus. I need you at 100%."

His face shifted. Just slightly.

"Yes, Captain."

The simulation ended with seconds to spare. You didn't crash.

Barely.

Back in the locker hall, you yanked your gloves off and sat on the bench, exhausted.

"You alright?" Hoseok asked, handing you a water bottle.

You nodded. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"From the training or the fake boyfriend?"

"He’s a good actor," you argued.

"He's a flirt, not an Oscar nominee," Hoseok said. "And when he looks at you, it's not fake."

You didn't reply.

Because deep down, you didn't know if it was anymore.

Lunch break was chaotic as usual. Jin somehow convinced the kitchen staff to give him an extra scoop of rice by serenading them.

"I'm just a man, standing in front of a starch, asking it to feed me," he said dramatically, holding the spoon like a mic.

Taehyung nearly dropped his tray laughing. "You are actually unwell."

He plopped down beside you at the table.

"Princess Galaxy," he greeted. "Looking radiant today."

"Don't start."

"Too late."

Jin slid in next to you without warning, tossing an arm around your shoulders.

"She loves when I call her that," he said. "We agreed it's our couple name."

"We did not—"

"She said 'space bae' was too obvious."

You groaned. "Kill me."

"You fake lovers are starting to act dangerously real," Jungkook chimed in, sipping his soda.

"She stargazed with me last night," Jin said, unbothered.

You choked on your rice.

Everyone stared.

"She what?" Jimin grinned.

"Oh yeah. Very romantic. She opened up. I almost cried. Would've written a sonnet, but I don't know what rhymes with 'trauma.'"

Your face was on fire.

Jin leaned down, voice softer near your ear. "Want me to tone it down?"

You hesitated.

Then shook your head.

"No," you said. "I can handle you."

He smiled.

"That's what I was hoping you'd say."

An hour later, Namjoon and Yoongi gathered the team in the mission room.

"Listen up," Yoongi said, no emotion in his voice. "We're finalizing shuttle crew assignments.

Tension rippled through the room.

Jin sat up straighter. You swallowed hard.

"You'll be evaluated based on performance, simulations, and cohesion. You want to go to space?" Namjoon's eyes scanned all of you. "Then prove you work as a team."

The room fell silent.

No jokes now.

And suddenly, everything felt real.

Chapter Five: https://www.tumblr.com/annabananugh/784636085528641536/chapter-five-zero-margin

[moonieshinesims]

Generation 2 - Chapter 10

Ako and Dustin bear the burden of trying to bring a loved one back from the dead.

Ako was no stranger to death and rebirth. He was, after all, undead himself. However, once a person's soul was taken to the afterlife, it was a bit more of a chore to successfully bring them back to life.

He'd have to venture off into the Magic Realm to gather some ingredients, and task Dustin with the other half.

What he needed was ambrosia, and it was quite difficult to make.

Ako really hated the Magic Realm. Spellcasters and vampires weren't exactly known for having a positive relationship with one another. The last time he'd had to visit, he was on another strange mission, and he'd nearly gotten himself killed in the process!

"Look here ghost, I'm here to save a loved one. I need ingredients for ambrosia."

Ironically enough, the shop-keep was a ghost, so he should know exactly what Ako was looking for.

"Ah, it's a potion of youth you've come after then, is it?" The shop-keep crossed his arms and eyeballed Ako something fierce, "How much are you willing to pay me to get it?"

Ako rolled his eyes, of course he was going to be conned out of all his Simoleons just for one third of the ingredients needed for the ambrosia.

"I have this." He sat a bag of cash on the counter and watched as the ghost nearly floated away in shock. Thankfully, he'd squirreled away a lot of the cash that River and Ichiban had procured and hidden in the house before their death.

Ako had tons of money, so he didn't necessarily need it, but it would come in handy at a time like this!

"Here you are, just what the doctor ordered!" The ghost handed Ako a potion bottle and then greedily snatched the bag of money away.

"Be careful with that. If you fail at making the ambrosia, your loved one is doomed to stay dead forever."

Ako clenched the bottle in his hand. He knew the risks.

Back home, Dustin was still grieving. He hadn't realized he was going to be so upset over Michiko's death, probably because he didn't think he'd ever have to think about it! She was so young! Why would death take her now?

And by drowning no less?! That was the same way his dad had died. For days, any time he thought about it, it made him cry.

Ako had already put him on the task of growing a death flower. It was going to take a long time, and since Ako couldn't go out in the sun, it only made sense for Dustin to do it.

Dustin knew a lot about cars and mechanics, but not so much plants. He'd do what it took though, especially if it was going to bring Michiko back!

About a week after the accident, Phoenix showed up in the yard looking for Michiko.

Oh shit, Dustin thought, he doesn't know, does he?

Phoenix could automatically tell something was off. Had Michiko decided she didn't want to talk to him anymore now that she'd met Sol? Something deep down had somehow told him that it was a bad idea to bring her to that motel that day... He knew it!

But his assumptions as to why were completely wrong... It wasn't because Michiko was going to fall in love with Sol, it was for something else.

Something way worse.

Dustin stood there awkwardly letting Phoenix cry for a while. But after about three minutes things got too weird and he decided to drag him to the back yard.

"I've been crying back here for days! So, like, if you wanna come back here and cry too, you can!"

He wasn't very good at emotional support. He hadn't had much from his mom growing up, so he had no idea what to say.

"I'll leave you alone for a while..." He wrung his hands and stepped away slowly, "If you need me, you know where to find me!"

The weeks went on, and Dustin grew to love gardening. He had to grow all sorts of things to try to create this death flower. Instead of seeing it as a chore, however, he was learning so much about botany and the environment!

One day, unexpectedly, his mother, Brandi, showed up at the house.

Ako never liked Brandi. Dustin had told him all sorts of stuff about how neglectful she was after his dad's death, and how she'd always favored his little brother Beau more than him.

But it's not like he kept him from visiting her. Dustin was a free man. He was allowed to go where he wanted and do what he wanted! Unfortunately for Brandi, none of those things involved visiting her.

After telling Dustin about his mom's impromptu appearance, he begrudgingly decided to stop by and say hey to his family. It had been years since his last visit.

Dustin's youngest brother Brandon was probably his favorite. He was too young to hate Dustin for "running away". Since he'd only been a baby when Dustin did leave home, he hadn't had the opportunity to make Dustin dislike him yet.

Beau on the other hand was worse than he'd been when he was a child. He'd grown up listening to their moms conspiracy theories about vampires, aliens, some weird clown that used to terrorize her parents... and now he'd grown to be some type of nutjob.

And while he was right that Dustin had been young when he first met Ako, he entered into a relationship with him on his own free will... Right? He had, hadn't he?

Dustin left that day feeling weird and angry. He loved Ako, he loved Michiko, and he didn't want anyone questioning him about it. Just because Brandi wasn't happy with her situation and Beau was parroting everything their mom said, didn't mean Dustin had to put up with it.

He had more important things to do.

Months had gone by, Ako had already procured the potion of youth and the angelfish. The only thing left was the death flower.

Thankfully, Dustin had been busy. Ako was able to whip up a batch of ambrosia, which he left on the table while he went to summon Michiko's spirit.

Michiko's ghost appeared and wandered towards the kitchen.

The whole being dead thing was odd. Michiko just felt like she was in a dream-like state, and that she'd been asleep the whole time.

But upon eating the ambrosia, she felt something rising inside of her. It was warm and weird.

Thankfully, Ako had made the ambrosia correctly and it worked.

Michiko was back and boy did she have a lot to talk about!

[jamiemaybeme]

adding some more incoherent rambling to this (semi) incoherent rambling:

Romeo & Juliet is also often regarded as the greatest love story written, but it is, at its heart, a TRAGEDY about two people ON OPPOSITE SIDES OF A FEUD falling in love.

extra context for those not doing GCSE english/who haven't read or watched R & J

the "no nightingales" line is said the morning after they've consummated their marriage (meaning it's official now). romeo has been banished, and says he needs to leave because he can hear the "morning lark" (aka ‘it's morning i gtg’). but juliet doesn't want him to leave, so she playfully says it's a "nightingale" he can hear, and he still has hours before he needs to leave. however, he needs to leave because if he gets caught in verona he'll be executed, as punishment for disobeying the laws of banishment.

so...

...essentially, the lark is also a symbol of death/ impending doom, whilst the nightingale is a symbol of freedom and (BRIEF)* escape.

*(this word 'brief' is important because Romeo & Juliet is building up to their deaths at the end, and their happiness is also brief, and in GO, they have escaped from heaven and hell's watch, but - as crowley points out - it's not for forever, just a few years.)

symbolism

throughout the play, there is a lot of symbolism of juliet describing her wedding bed being = to her grave, and after romeo climbs down the ladder, she says he looks almost dead. this foreshadowing is immense and - at this point in the play (act iv(?), i believe) - important.

the significance of having this conversation after the symbolism of the birds makes the lark = death even more prominent.

and if the lark = death, then - contrastingly - the nightingale = life. and no nightgales = no life.

how does this link to GO?

NOW, in GO, it is unlikely this is the death of the actual characters, seeing as they've already been victims of attempted murder, so what does the nightingale symbol the life of?

aziraphale and crowley's relationship.

(i know i'm stating the obvious here bear with me)

the life of it: which is at its height at the end of season one (hence the presence of the nightingale); and its 'death': at its lowest, potentially even its end in the last episode of season two (the nightingale has gone = their relationship is dead).

but but but, i DON'T think it's over. in fact, i know it's not. so, there are two options.

ONE: the symbolism is from THE CHARACTERS' perspectives. crowley especially, believes that this is it. aziraphale has left him, and he's just been waiting for it to happen all these years. he'd hoped it wouldn't happen, even dared to believe in aziraphale, but now he feels betrayed. i don't think he can see this relationship being restored, although i do think he desperately wants it to be. not that he would EVER admit this.

TWO: this is the end of their relationship AS WE KNOW IT. of course, it's had many different phases, from eden to 1941 to present day. none of them have quite ended this way, in fact they've almost merged into one another (from what we've seen). but maybe they haven't. this sort of thing could happen way more often than we think. we saw their argument at the bandstand in season one, and both of them were convinced they weren't coming back. and guess what? they did.

i don't think they'll be as quick to reconcile with each other as they were then, but given they had to save they world, and once again they need to save the world, i think it'll be rather similar. they seem to be able to make up a lot quicker when humanity is at stake.

conclusion

anyway, this was a lot of rambling that got off topic, but i could literally talk about this for HOURS (haha hyperfixations, am i right?). i hope someone gets something out of it at least.

i think my main points were:

nightingale = symbol of life

lack of nightingale = the end of Something

crowley and aziraphale are being dramatic tbh

they'll sacrifice their pride for the sake of humanity, so they'll be fine.

also i only lightly touched on this at the start but romeo & juliet is literally about two people destined to be together, who are on opposite sides of a fight, and who suffer the consequences of other people's bias. they are the embodiment of 'right person wrong time'. if that's not aziraphale and crowley idk what is.

HELLO HI I HAVE SOME RAMBLINGS ABT THE GOS2 ENDING (yes I know it's been almost six months)

so, obviously we know that 'no nightingales' is a reference to a Nightingale sang in Berkley square. but here's another point that could be completely unrelated, for all I know. in act 3 scene 5 of Romeo and Juliet, Romeo says 'no nightingale' in response to Juliet saying 'it was the nightingale and not the lark'

Juliet is saying it is the nightingale because she doesn't want her and Romeo's evening to end - the morning brings Romeo's banishment. But Romeo has realised he has to face his fateat some point and so tells Juliet that there are no nightingales singing.

The nightingale symbolises the peak in their relationship and the lark symbolises the ending. So Crowley saying that there are 'no nightingales' also tells us that his happiest moments with Aziraphale, no matter how brief, must come to an end.

[writing-fanics]

⁂ starry eyed ⁂

✦ Hunter X Collector!Reader ✦

[Chapter One: It Takes Time] part ii

previous chapter > next chapter

word count: 4,970 or 11 pages.

“Hoot hoot! Practice every day, or I'll appear in your nightmares.” the bird said in the tablet, “Oh, okay. Well, I'm going to pick Luz up from school. Pop quiz. ¿Como se dice eso en español?” She asked, looking at the kids. (How do you say that in Spanish?)

Hunter stands up, “Oh, oh! Uh..” He inhales, and tries to speak spanish but fails. “.Voy a recoger a Luz de la escuela. (I am going to pick up Luz from school.)” Vee says, looking at Camila. 

“Muy bueno! Keep it up.” Camila says, and then turns to leave the shack, and sighs, “I never expected to be a mother of six.” She says, walking off to pick up Luz. 

Hunter sits down to to Gus as everyone resumes learning spanish, from the tablet. Flapjack is still pecking on the floor.  

“Taxi.” 

Taxi!

“El gato gordo.” 

“El gato gordo!” 

Amity sighs, “Maybe we should take a break.” She says, and Willow smiles, “A siesta.” Willow says, and Gus repeats what she says, “Siesta!” He says, and Amity looks at him, “We've been here for months, and we've made no progress on the portal door. We can't expect Camila to take care of us forever.” Amity says, and the others look at him. 

“In the meantime, we could pull more weight around the kitchen. My mustard ravioli did bring tears to her eyes.” Gus says, smiling, and Vee looks at him. “Those weren't the kind of tears you're thinking of.” Vee says, looking at him. Hunter then appears holding a jacket he made, with multiple patches with exposed stitching, “I can help fixed damaged clothes!” Hunter says, smiling. Willow holding up a plant mosnter, “I can spruce up the garden!” Willow says, and the plant mosnter growls at Vee. 

“Maybe we need to look elsewhere. There's an entire Human Realm to search.” Amity says, she flinches when Willow takes a picture of her. “But Luz has school most of the week.” Willow says, looking at him, and Amity looks at him, “So? Let's explore the town ourselves. After all, Luz went into the Boiling Isles on her own.” Amity says, looking at the others. 

“If Eda came here before, maybe there were others. Maybe they left something behind we can use.” Gus said, and Amity looked towards him, “Yes! That's the spirit! Together, there is no challenge that can hold us back.” She says, looking at him and Amity then trips in a hole Flapjack pecks and faceplants. 

“Ow.” Amity groans, and Gus shouts, “It's a sign! We're doomed!” He says. Amity sits up and looks at Flapjack, “Come on Flapjack, this isn't funny anymore.” She says, looking at him and once she gets her foot free, she sees something in the hole. She gasps, “There's something in here.” She says, and holds up a hexagonal box, opens it and takes out a scroll, and unrolls it and all gasp. 

“Hmm. Looks like a map?” [Y/n] says, tilting her head as she looks at it, “Or a secret code?” Willow says, and Flapjack twitters and lands on Hunter’s shoulder, “Flapjack, is this what you've been looking for? What does it lead to?” He asked, looking at his palisman. 

“That eye, it kinda looks like the old portal door.” Amity says, and Gus and Willow gasps and look at each other, “The portal door! Portal door! Portal door! Portal door!” Willow and Gus, chant. 

“Let's tell Luz.” Vee says, and Amity looks at her, “What if it's just another dead end? She already feels responsible for our other failed attempts.” She says, and Willow looks at her, “Then, let's not tell her until we can figure it out. Using our buff brains!” Willow says, and everyone says the same thing. 

Next Day

“All right. Luz is at her mom's vet clinic putting tiny little bandages on "hedgehogs." So today, we're going into town to solve this code.” Amity says, looking at the others, “Ears.” Gus said, covering up his ears, “Routes.” Vee says. 

[Y/n] then uses her magic to get a side of the purple side of her face, “Snacks, check.” Willow says, holding her bag of snacks. “Human disguise, check. Eh?” Hunter says, wearing what was basically a costume, [Y/n] chuckled softly. 

“Oh, that is a look.” She says, using the polaroid and taking a picture of Hunter, Hunter walks between Gus and Vees, the former looking amazed, “According to Cosmic Frontier, this is what the modern human male wears.” He says, and Vee looks at the book, “This was written in the '90s about the year 2008.” Vee said, looking at him. “Yeah. Can't wait for that New Year's party.” He said, Gus looked at him, “And did you get to the last chapter?” Gus asked, looking at him, “O'Bailey is still hiding the fact that he's a Duplicant in

hyper disguise. But Captain Avery is figuring it out.” Hunter says, “I think he already knows but-” Gus says but is interrupted by Hunter. 

“Ah, bup-bup-bup! No, no, no, no, no spoilers!” Hunter says, looking at him, “Hunter, I don't think the world is ready for the brave fashion choices of the year 2008. Please change.” Amity says, and Willow gags Amity, “Don't listen to her!” Willow says, looking at Hunter. 

Vee taking her human form, “Aw, geez, we're gonna miss the bus.” Vee says, and Hunter looks at them, “Oh, it's okay! I'll catch up. There's a transport worm every half hour.” He says, and the girls nods, and leave, Ghost meowing as she joins Amity, [Y/n] turns back and closes the door.

"I'm gonna borrow that book when you're done with it." [Y/n] says, looking at him making a finger gun and winks. As she closes the door, Hunter sports a happy blush as he removes his headphones. Flapjack twitters.

"You know, maybe you're right, Flap." Hunter says, as he looks at himself in the mirror, "Even if I'm not who I'm supposed to be... I like who I am right now." He says, and then he notices something on the table and touches it, then he sees Belos in the mirror reflection. He gasps.

Amity, Gus, Y/n, Vee, and Willow aere exploring Gravesfield. “First stop, The Magic Circle.” Amity says, as they enter the shop: Gus and Willow look around while Amity and Vee question the cashier. [Y/n] looks around curiously, but nothing is catching her eye. Until she notices, a star shaped necklace with a crescent moon her eyes look at it in wonder and she takes it.  

“Hey!” the cashier shouted, Gus knocks over a barrel as Willow in devil costume, pokes a customer with a pitchfork. The kids are chasing out, but Willow returns to pay for the costume and the necklace she noticed [Y/n] had picked up, with two snails then leaves again. 

They cut through a park, and Willow, Gus, and [Y/n} stood at two familiar-looking statues. The kids all go to the library next, where Amity sees a card catalog. She expected it to be living and greets it and bows, and gives it candy which falls to the ground. A child then opens one drawer, and Amity shouts. Embarrassed, she tries to run away and trips on the candy and falls. Then they head to the giraffe exhibit at the zoo. Gus bows to it, with no response. They all leave cautiously, but Willow takes a photo that scares the giraffe which opens its mouth to reveal a monstrous inside. 

They all scream and run off, “I don't blame our ancestors for banishing those guys. Yeesh.” Gus says, and sadly looks towards a child. “Dad, can we go to the bird hall?” A child asks, looking up at their father. “In a minute. How about we eat first?” The dad says. 

Vee sighs, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but... I think I know where to go next.” She says, and then they arrive at the Gravesfield Historical Society, “

.the others head inside the building but Vee stands outside, Willow turns to look at her, “You can wait here if it's too scary. Luz told me about that creepy witch-hunter wannabe.” She said, looking at her. 

“It's okay. We just faced down a giraffe. I can do this!” Vee says, and then Vee walks up and kicks down the door fists raised and screaming. “Huh?” She says, looking around and realizing Jacob is no longer here. But instead her Masha from camp, “You're not Jacob.” She says, walking up towards the counter, “We can all thank Goddess for that. He got fired after he started making edits to the exhibits.” Masha says, looking at her. 

They point to a cardboard cutout of Jacob in his armor with a sign that says ‘Local Hero- Humanitys Last and Most Handsome Hope’ the cutout collapses forward. “I work part-time now. Say, have we met?” They asked, and looks closer at Veem “Something about you seems familiar.” They say, looking at her and Vee, nervously chuckles.

“Uh, no. I'm new in town. I just have one of those faces. J-but just the one. The normal amount of face.” Vee says, nervously lookig at them. Masha laughs in response, “What a coincidence, me too. If you ever need a tour guide, hit me up.” They say, looking at her, and they hand a pamphlet to Vee and she takes it, awestruck a blush showing on her cheeks. 

Amity steps out from behind Vee and presents the puzzle, “We're actually here to ask about this old puzzle. Do you know how to decode it?” She asks, “Ooh, a rebus. They dug up a bunch of these in Old Gravesfield.” Masha says, looking at it. 

“This is a rebus?” Gus asks, looking closer at it, “Yeah. It's like a riddle where pictures and symbols make up a word. Like- Come here. What do you think they were trying to say?” They asks, looking at him. 

“Chop off an ear!” He says, holding down his beanie. 

“No. See the H that comes first? Then combine that with the ear and maybe it means "hear" like, to listen. Or, "here" as in a place. Maybe something is waiting somewhere.” They says, and then their phone rings.  “I'll be right back.” They says going into the back. 

Amity looks down at it, “If this is a portal door then what about these? A-a ribbon, and tanning a hide?” She asks, and the others look down at it trying to decode the riddle. “That ribbon is tied together.” Willow says, looking down at it. “Next to that hand with a cut.” [Y/n] says, looking at it. 

“You don't think…” Willow says, looking over at Amity, “This is leading us to…” Gus says, “Tie tan's... blood?” Amity says. 

[Y/n} was in the living room with the others, searching through a box of halloween costumes, “Hey, we're back!” Hunter says, and chuckles, “And we bought some, uh, cars.” He says, and Luz elbows him.

“Luz! We're designing our costumes for the Haunted Hayride.” Amity says, looking at Her, “Guess what I've got planned? I'm gonna be Captain Avery and you're…” Gus says, Hunter then gasps, “Chief Engineer O'Bailey?” He  says, and Camila gulps, “How do you know about Cosmic Frontier?” She asks, nervously. 

“All the books in your basement.” Hunter says, looking at her, “Oh!  Funny how things just show up in basements, right? Without you hiding or putting them there. Life sure is full of surprises.

“Cool! Humans freak out just like us.” Gus says laughing. “It'll be fun. We want to experience your weird human traditions.” Willow says, and she puts on vampire teeth and laughs. 

[Y/n] smiles, finding a pair of wolf ear hair clips and putting them on with a curious smile. "I'm going as a wolf." She said, looking into the and seeing the wolf tail."And I thought you and I could take inspiration from...Good Witch Azura The Movie 2: The Betrayanning!" Amity says, pointing the remote at the television.  And pressing the button, playing the movie.

"Hecate! I'll protect you!" Azura says, holding an unconscious Hecate in her arms, "Give her over, Azura. It's for your own good." Villounious Lucy, said looking down at the witch.

"Never!" Azura shouted, looking at the villain.

I could be the Hecate to your Azura. What do you think?" Amity asks, holding up a drawing and walking towards Luz. "Oh, wow. Yeah, let's do it!" Luz says, happy as she pulls Amity into a hug. 

"How could you do it, Villainous Lucy? How could you betray your friends? Now everyone is gone!" Azura shouted, looking at Lucy. 

"It was for the greater good." Lucy says, looking at her.

"We'll never forgive you. Never!" Azura shouted.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Later that night, [Y/n] lay fast asleep on the mattress on the ground in Luz and Vee's room, stars floating around her head as she slept peacefully. Snoring softly, she nuzzled her head into the blanket. Amity shooed away some of the stars as they floated around her face, groaning and turning over to her side.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Next DAy

Camila dropping everybody off. Amity, Y/n, Gus, and Hunter, true to their word are dressed as Hecate, Wolf, Captian Avery, and Chief Engineer O'Bailey. While Willow's wearing the devil costume she bought. After walking forward and pocketing their palismen, Luz gets out, her Azura costume. "Make sure to help Vee with the trick-or-treaters. You know, they can be... demanding." Luz says, looking at her mom.

"Luz, are you okay? You don't look so well." Camila asks, looking at her daughter.

“I was just so excited for this, I couldn't sleep.” Luz says, nervously. 

“All right. We'll keep the puzzle a secret 'till the time is right. And then we'll tell her about the Titan Blood!” Amity says, to the others. Belos laughing in the distance, and Hunter turns to look towards the woods, “Did you hear that?” He asks, looking at Flapjack, who chirps in response. 

“Hey, it's okay. It's probably just in my head again. Nestle down, Flapjack.” He says, and he chirps.”We're gonna have the best night, and we might even have a surprise for you.” Amity says, to Luz, and the others start walking towards a stage. 

“Yeah, me too.” Luz says, sadly. 

“I hath seen the Mrs. Smith consorting with spirits unpure.” Actor 1 says, acting out the scene of a witch trial, “ Is this true, Mrs. Smith?” actor 2 asked. 

“Nay, 'tis a fool lie! Inquisitor Jones is tarring me a demon's varlet so as to take mine fields!” Mrs. Smith says, and the actor 1 points at her, “Demon lies!” Shouts. 

“Your honor, I do object! It is Inquisitor Jones who's in league with the dark forces!Gus says, going on stage, and the actor 1 looks at the kid, “Kid, come on, this is my spotlight.” the actor says, and then Gus uses his illusion magic. And the crow cheers.

“Why are you clapping? These children are demon spawns. And they want your teeth! Look! Look at his ears! He's from Mars!” Jacob shouts, as he runs on stage and grabs Gus. 

“Hey, lay off the costume, man.” He says,and the two guards tackle Jacob to the ground. They walk towards the haunted hayride, and sit down, “I hope you're all prepared for a truly scary ride.” Masha says, to them. “Make us cry! Make us cry!” Willow and Gus chant, and Masha looks at them,

“Because there's nothing scarier than knowledge.” Masha says, and Gus looks at them, “Boo, just lie to me!” Gus says.

"Let me tell you the eeriest unsolved mystery of Gravesfield. The Tale of the Brothers Wittebane." Masha says, and the group becomes intrigued. Amity looks at Luz and Hunter, "Wittebane? Isn't that Belos?" She asks, looking at them.

"The year is 1613. Two orphaned brothers arrive in Gravesfield. Their names. Phillip and Caleb." Masha says, and Hunter looks at them nervously, "Oh, no." He said nervously.

As Masha narrates the story, cardboard cutouts depicting events that happened to Phillip and Caleb play out in the background as the gang watches.

"Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother. They tried to fit in with this town, and its unsavory practices." Masha said, narrating each part of the story.

" They became witch-hunters! Local lore suggests that the Brothers Wittebane met a real witch from another world! Her name was Evelyn."

"And the older brother was spirited away. She dazzled him with magic and visions of a strange yet beautiful place. They used a secret code to travel between worlds."

"Philip set off to save his brother and bring the witch to justice. But neither were ever seen again! Maybe Philip saved Caleb, and they went on to lead peaceful lives. Or maybe" They said, turning on the flashlight on their face. "he's still chasing his brother, caught in a cycle of horror and strife!" They said, and the group gasps

Masha turns off the flashlight, "Sounds like big bro got a hot witch girlfriend and little bro got upset. But that's just me." They say, and the hayride ends and the gang gets out of the tractor. Nearby Hunter hears Belos laughing, which terrifies him.

Hunter gasps, "Luz." He grabs Luz and takes her behind a tractor. Luz yelps, "What's going on?" She asks, looking at him, "It's him. He's here! I saw him this time. And it wasn't in my head after all. You believe me, right?" He asks, looking at her.

"Well, how can you be sure? What would he be doing here?" She asks, looking at him and he hesitates for a moment, "Titan Blood. I'm not supposed to tell. But the secret code that guide mentioned? It's a puzzle, a rebus we found in the shack. Amity thinks it leads to Titan Blood!" He says, to her.

"Titan Blood? Puzzles? Amity? Why didn't anyone say anything?" She asks, in shock looking at him, "You and your mom do so much for us. We wanted to do something for you, and she's gonna surprise you with it tonight." He says, looking at her, and she looks at him uncertainly, "That is so sweet." She says.

"Hey, where's Luz and Hunter?" Amity says, looking around. Hunter and Luz look at each other, "We need to find the Titan Blood first. Just to make sure. I don't wanna freak anyone out yet." Luz says, looking at him.

Hunter frowns annoyed and angry, "You don't believe me yet, do you? Fine. I'll prove he's here." He says, and looks down at Flapjack, "Flapjack!" He whispers shouts and Flapjack chirps, "Can you get the rebus?" He asks, and Flapjack chirps.

"I'll say that again."  His voice, distorted with Belo's voice, "Get the rebus!" He shouts, and Flapjack chirps flying off and getting the rebus out of Amity's pocket.

“Hey! What the heck?” Luz says, looking at Hunter in shock. He looks at her shakingly, “Sorry. I don't know what came over me.” He says, looking at her and Flapjack places the rebus on his lap. 

“Good work.” He says, and Hunter and Luz run toward the woods. Hunter is getting further and further away from Luz, and he looks down at the bandage from his finger, noticing the green goo.”What the…” He says and sees an image of Belos in the woods. Luz not far behind him, “There!” He shouts and runs off panting. 

“Hunter!” Luz shouted, panting as she ran after him, but stopped for a moment to catch her breath. “Hunter! Think. Think. Hunter is following the rebus to Titan's Blood. But how can I find the blood without him? Come on. You can do this.” She says, and gasps. 

“Glyphs are powered by the magic of the isles, by the Titan itself! The closer I am to the Titan Blood, the stronger the glyphs become.” She says, as she draws light glyphs and uses them as a guide to get closer to the Titans’ blood. 

“Luz? Hunter?” [Y/n] calls out, looking around for her friends. “Did you find them?” Amity asks, and [Y/n] and the others shake their heads. “Calm down. They probably just went to buy some more cars.” Gus says, trying to calm Amity down, “Yeah. Yeah. You're right. I just- I wanted to show Luz the rebus. Wait. Where did it go?” She said, in shock realizing that it was missing. 

Everyone gasps, and Camila pulls up in her car along with Vee, and both get out. “Kids! Have you seen Luz? And has she, um, said anything weird?” Camila asks, looking at the kids, and Vee pulls out her phone. 

“Boom! Find a phone.” Vee says, and the phone starts beeping. 

Luz arrives at an old graveyard and sees Hunter standing on top a hill in the middle. She uses, her magic making an ice bridge to get across, “Hunter, are you okay? Did you see Belos?” She asked, looking at him, and Hunter kept his back towards her, not making eye contact. 

“Oh, no. Just my imagination playing tricks again. Why don't you find the Titan Blood while I find my palisman? Little guy got spooked off.” He says, and Luz looks around for the Titans Blood. 

“Good idea. All this Belos talk has me on edge. But I hate to ruin Amity's surprise. I really appreciate that everyone wanted to do this. You guys are great friends.” She says, walking around, “Have you found the blood yet?” He asks, and she looks toward him. 

“I'm on it. I just have to-” She says, kneeling down and her eyes widened seeing, Flapjack hiding behind a gravestone, trembling. “Flapjack? Why do you look so scared?” She asks, looking at him, “Didn't you use an ice glyph to get here? Your magic is working.” ‘Hunter’ said, his voice distorted sounding like Belos. 

“Luz? I think she's this way.” Amity said, across the river and walking down the path and getting closer, to where she was. “Mija?” Camila shouted, “Hunter?” [Y/n} shouted, in the distance, everyone searching for their friends. Luz looked towards, ‘Hunter’, “Guys, where are you?” Gus shouted, in the distance their voices getting louder and louder. 

‘Hunter’ looked down at Luz, “I saw you. Glyphs do work here.” He said, his voice distorted, “You. You survived.” She said, in shock looking up at him, “I did. Thanks again for all the help, Luz. But I don't need you anymore.” He said and outstretched his arm to attack Luz, but she dodge. Falling to the ground. Her hat falling off. 

Flapjack landed beside her, “Flapjack!” She said, holding him, and placing him on her shoulder. They watched as ‘Hunter’, shoved his hand into the ground pulling out the Titan’s blood, lifting it up above him, and smiling, “Ah. There you are.” ‘Hunter’ said, smiling, and the vial is then knocked out of his hand by an ice spike. Luz launches more glyphs at him but all of her attacks miss. 

“You're not even trying right now. What? Afraid you'll hurt him?” He asked, looking at her, and finally, everyone arrives and sees what had been happening before them, “Is that Hunter?” She asks, in shock seeing him. 

“Something's wrong.” [Y/n] said, seeing what had happened to Hunter, 'Hunter' smiled “See, this is why you're so useful, Luz. You're so desperate to help people, you even helped me meet the Collector.” He said, looking at her and Amity looked up in shock, “What?” Amity said, and Luz looked at him. “I didn't mean to. I thought I was doing something good!” Luz said, looking at him.

'Hunter' smiled at her evily, "You did do something good. I thought this one was another lost cause." He said, as he looked down at his hands. Then back up at Luz, "Because of you, we can finish our work as witch-hunters, starting with them!" He shouted, as he reaches for the witches, but Amity summons her palisman to swat away his hand. Gus and Willow also summon their palismen to fly and attack, 'Hunter'. But he manages to swat away one of Gus' illusions.

'Hunter' laughs, "Hey, Belos. Remember me?" Gus said, and Helos tried once again to grab Gus, only to grab another illusion, as Willow grabs one of his stretched arms and slams it down. Vee leaps over the stretched-out arm, landing on her feet, "Hang tight, Hunter!" Vee said, as she starts draining his magic with her powers.

"Vee, watch out!" Amity shouted, flying towards her and tackling her out of the way, Gus grunts, as they all land on the opposite side of the lake. St

[Y/n] looks down at everyone then back over at 'Hunter' across the lake. First, he lied and now he had the gull to posse Hunter? He had another thing coming. She balled her hands up into fists, and she started levitating, her teeth were clenched and she had an angry look on her face. She flew towards him swiftly, she was about to attack.

'Hunter' grabbed her by the neck, "Y/n!" Everyone shouted, and she struggled, gasping for air as he tightened his grip, "Surprised to see you here." He said, and she groaned as she placed both her hands on his wrist, and they glowed.

"I know you can hear me, Hunter. Fight him off!" [Y/n] said, looking at him, struggling. "You know, your really starting to get on my nerves." He said, lifting her high up from the ground. She then aims the palm of her hand at his face, and a tiny explosion emits from her palm. Stunning and dazing, him causing him to let go.

She falls to the ground coughing, and her entire body shakes for a moment. 'Hunter' groans, and his gaze immediately shifted back towards her, "Why you littl-" He shouted, she didn't have any time to react, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Her eyes widened, as one of his

outstretched arms came towards her this time. Grabbing her forcefully by the face, his claws digging into her flesh.

She screamed in pain, and all 'Hunter' could do was let out a small chuckle, and she was flung her towards the almost portal-like arch way. "Y/n?!" Everyone shouted, as her body landed on the ground like a rag doll. A groan escaped her lips, as she struggled to stand back up but collapsed.

Flapjack starts chirping and pecking at 'Hunter's' antlers, but the latter immediately catches him. "That's right. You wouldn't want me harming your precious palisman, would you?" He said, holding the palisman in his hand. the others look at him in shock.

"Oh, but then again, I don't care what you want. Goodbye, Evelyn." He says, squeezing Flapjack, causing him to crack and starts to absorb his essence, but lets him go as Hunter comes back. and starts fighting over the control of his body.

Flapjack then weakly flies into Luz' palm while leaking palisman essence from the cracks in his body, he let out tinly gaps and groans, as he looked up at Luz weakly. Luz had tears in her eyes as she looked down at him, "Flapjack! Flapjack, you'll be okay." She said, crying.

Hunter groaned, as he punched himself in the face as he fought for the control over his body back. Falling to the groaned, as sweat ran down the side of his forehead as he started panting. "You know what I'd like, Belos?" He said, standing to his feet and letting out another groan, as Belos fought for control over Hunter's body. Hunter placed his right arm over his left, holding it down.

"I'd like to leave the Emperor's Coven and never step foot in that throne room again. I'd like to study wild magic, and learn how to carve palismen." He said, as he walked down towards the lake, the other's watching.

"I'd like to attend Hexside as a regular student and play flyer derby with my friends. I'd like to stargaze with Y/n. But most of all, I'd like to make sure you never hurt anyone again!" He shouted, grunting as he throws the vial of Titan's blood into the river.

"No!" Belos shouted, still inside Hunter's body, and jumps into the water, managing to catch the vial but falling unconscious. [Y/n] who laid across the stream unconscious, a single tear rolled down her cheek as she laid on the ground.

"Oh, no! No!" Luz shouted, worriedly, "Move." Camila said, she jumps into the water to save him and manages to rescue him and host Hunter into the surface. "Be careful with him!" Willow says, and Belso finally leaves Hunter's body as he takes the monstrous form he previously had.

"Caleb! You would stab me in the back?!" He shouted, and Luz stares at him angrily, "You did it to him first." She says, looking at him.

Belos, outraged, smashes the vial of Titans' blood into the archway, opening a portal to the Demon Realm. a soft groan escaped [Y/n]'s lips, and he turned to look at her and lunged toward her, taking control of her body.

'[Y/n]' stood to her feet and turned to look towards the others, for a split second her eyes faded from blue back there her normal eye color. "Hunter?" She whispered, in her normal voice her heartbreaking seeing him lying lifeless in Willow's arms. "You promised." She whimpered tears in her eyes.

She groaned in pain before Belos took control over her body again, an evil smile formed on her face as she tilted her head to look at the others. "This is for the good of your souls. You'll thank me later." Belos said, as he slowly backed up into the portal taking [Y/n] with him. Everyone was left speechless.

taglist

@supernerdycookietrashblr

[a/n: this took me so long to get done cause I realized I pasted parts into the wrong place so i had to fix it in docs. omg next chapter will be shorter]

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

I loved it! I will absolutely read a part 2 of the lumen au if you write it! I wish I was half as talented as you!

Ah! I'm so glad you liked it!! (and also thank you you are seriously so sweet always 💕) Yeah he....he's stupid and 16 lol but let's see if he can redeem himself shall we?

Part 1

Rhett stares at the spot that Tess just ran from until Mrs. Cooper takes him by the shoulder and leads him back to class

and he goes with and continues on with his day cause the hell else is he supposed to do?

He knows immediately that he fucked up and that he fucked up pretty bad. He just really likes Maria, or liked he supposed - he really wasn't sure anymore - and has for a long time. He could have sworn she was gonna be it.

He knows Tess. They're on the rodeo team together where he rides bulls with a helmet that he hates and she barrel races with her horse Peaches.

He's never paid attention to her much. Other than the fact that she was a good racer and won countless ribbons and medals. Their circles intersect sometimes, but she's very shy. Doesn't say much. Especially when he and his friends were around.

But she's his soulmate. Shit she's his soulmate. The other half of him. The soul that Sunshine belonged to - whose shine seemed to be dulled since their interaction in the hallway.

He doesn't know how he's gonna make this better. If he even can. The look on her face...he thinks about it for the rest of the day. For several days actually.

Cause what if that wasn't a reaction to the expression he KNOWS he betrayed but a reaction to HIM being her soulmate? What if she doesn't want him at all?

Tess walks the 20 miles home until her dad picks her up halfway there. He doesn't take her back to school (the principal called and told her parents what happened...and he knows his little girl. she needs some time) he brings her home and lets her go straight to the horse barn to let off some steam.

Peaches whinnies softly as Tess throws open her stable door with her saddle in hand. She can barely see through the tears blurring her vision, but she knows the motions like the back of her hand. Peaches is saddled in a matter of minutes and Tess is ready to ride.

But then she catches sight of Cowboy floating off in the corner, like it knows she's sad because of him, and she breaks. She's sobbing again with her face pressed into the leather of the saddle.

Of course Rhett didn't want it to be her. Everyone knows he's been crushing on Maria since forever. Even Maria knows that (and uses it to her advantage). She just thought...she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up.

She always knew her crush on him was futile, a fool's hope, her just being a stupid teenage girl doomed for heartbreak.

But what was she supposed to do now? Go back to school tomorrow and pass him in the halls like nothing happened? Pretend like their Lumens weren't fighting to get to one another??

Was she just supposed to go about her life knowing her soulmate was right there but didn't want her?

Eventually, her tears dried enough for her to lead Peaches out of the barn and for the two of them to take off into the north pasture together - Cowboy trying to keep up. They stayed out there for hours. Tess too horrified and embarrassed to go back and talk to her parents and Peaches just happy to be getting in a run when she usually didn't.

It's the grumbling in her stomach that eventually makes her come back around midafternoon

And after setting Peaches up with some oats in her stable, she turns to head inside and is face to face with Cowboy. The blue of that little ball of light seemed darker.

But at this point, Tess is just mad. And who better to take it out on than that little piece of Rhett Abbott that's been following her around all day like a kicked puppy?

"Will you just leave me alone? He doesn't want me, alright! So stop trying to act like some part of him does!"

Poor girl. She's had a Lumen for not even 24 hours.

Inside, her parents are sitting at the kitchen table with their own lumens dancing overhead - swirling around each other happily. it makes more tears spring to her eyes that she didn't know she could make. she wanted that with her soulmate. she wanted what her parents have. but now she doesn't know if that's going to happen, even KNOWING that she has a soulmate and who they are. and that just fucking hurts.

Her parents try to sympathize, try to tell her that he's a teenage boy. he's bound to be a little stupid. he'll come around. that he didn't mean it. that she should give him another chance. but their reasoning doesn't work. she's too hurt and honestly too embarrassed to even think about ever seeing him again.

That night, Cowboy sits on her pillow again and even though she doesn't want it to - it's comforting.

Tomorrow is Friday, and her parents are going to let her stay home.

Sunshine spends the rest of the day nestled in Rhett's hoodie. Won't come out for anything. It's always been shy, and now he understands why, but this was something else. When he would look inside, it was like the light was nearly put out. And it scared him.

And when Rhett FINALLY gets home, royal and cece ask him how his day was, and he just says it was fine.

Cause they won't understand. Neither of them ever got a lumen, neither of them have soulmates.

But Perry, Rhett's older brother with a bubblegum pink lumen and a two-year-old daughter that means the world to him, can immediately see that something is wrong.

After dinner, when Rhett runs up to his room just to be alone, when he takes off his hoodie and Sunshine just sinks down onto the floor and he starts whispering desperately that he's sorry - Perry comes up to talk.

"What happened?" and that's really all it takes to make Rhett spill his guts. About meeting his soulmate and their lumens exploding when they met and how for a SPLIT SECOND he was disappointed it wasn't someone else and Tess ran off crying

"Yeah, you messed up pretty good. But you can't give up. She's your soulmate for a reason, so maybe she'll find a way to forgive you...And actually love your ugly mug."

He literally has to scoop Sunshine off the floor and carry it around. But he does snuggle up with it that night, trying to figure out what he's gonna say to Tess.

Rhett has no idea what he's gonna say, but he goes into school the next day determined to talk to her. Only she's not there. And when he asks her friends about it, who all look at him like he's the devil incarnate, they tell her she stayed home cause of what he did.

So on Saturday, he asks to borrow Perry's truck and he drives over to the Abernathy Horse Ranch. He....still doesn't really know what he's gonna say. But he's hoping when he sees her the words will just come. He's been practicing with Sunshine, whose glow has slightly returned, if only a little.

While he's driving he sees some wildflowers on the side of the road, black-eyed suzannes, and for some reason they remind him of Tess. Of Sunshine. So he pulls over and picks a few.

When he knocks on their front door, his hands are shaking and he's sweating through his t-shirt but he knows he has to do this. at least to apologize.

Her dad answers the door and Rhett swears he's never come so close to pissing his pants

But her dad just nods out into the yard, and when Rhett turns, he sees Tess walking along the fence line with a little ball of blue light that nearly blended in with the sky trailing behind her.

Taking a deep breath, and nodding at her father in thanks, he sets off in her direction. And as he watches her, trailing her hand over the top of the wooden fence, kicking her booted feet into the dirt, he wonders why he's never really taken notice of her before.

She's cute. With the long light brown hair, big blue eyes - and she's tiny. Barely comes up to his shoulder and he wants to squish her. He doesn't. know where that thought comes from, but it makes him smile.

She sees him coming. Of course she does. It stops her in her tracks and snatches the air out of her lungs to see him walking up to her with that shy little smile and a bunch of flowers in his hand.

As he gets closer, Sunshine comes flying out from behind him and Captain zips past Tess' shoulder. They meet in the middle in another mini-explosion that makes them both flinch.

Rhett still doesn't know what he's gonna say, but he has to admit, being near her feels like coming home.

[the-rubber-band]

(ooc: sorry this is so long, I had an idea and I had to write it. The idea is Plas gets moments of fear because he's not quite human, so he's affected less.)

"Hey! This was supposed to be a gift! What is this?" He shouts, coughing. 

He turns a hand into a paper fan, trying to clear the heavy green gas, but it still lingers.

"Pee-yoo, this stuff stinks! Smells like Killer Croc's breath! If this is your way of telling me I need a shower, it sure is strange!"

He cracks a joke, but he can feel his heart start to race.

"Ah well, probably just a prank," He says, getting up and walking to the kitchen, discarding the box in the trash. He opens his apartment windows, watching as the gas blows away.

Just then the phone rings, and he hurries to pick it up.

"Oh, hey Chief! Doctor Dome? City centre? Yeah, I'll be down right away! See ya Chief!"

He puts down the phone. Time to go to work!

~~~~~~

"...and that is how I will bring an end to you, Plastic Man!"

Plas yawns. "Gotta be honest Doc, I wasn't listenin'."

Doctor Dome glares down at Plastic Man from the seat in his laser tank.

"Of course you weren't, you stretchy idiot! Never mind, that will make it all the more easy to destroy you!"

With that, Doctor Dome presses a button in his tank and a laser shoots towards Plas.

"Yipe!" Plas shouts and stretches out of the way. "Nice try, but you ain't gonna melt me today!"

"Just you wait, Plastic Man! You can't dodge my lasers forever!"

Doctor Doom continues to shoot lasers at Plastic Man, getting more and more frustrated as Plas continues to dodge them.

"Curse you, Plastic Man!"

Doctor Dome begins to roll the tank forward, and Plastic Man noticed a small boy cowering in front of it.

"Hang on, kid!" He shouts as he stretches quickly towards him.

He grabs the kid and stretches him out of the way, wincing as the tank runs him over.

"You ok kid?" He asks.

The kid turns to look at him. His face shimmers like a hot road and becomes someone else's. Someone familiar.

"...Luke?"

"Oh, so now ya come and help me? Ya lost that chance years ago, dad." Luke spits. He begins go grow bigger, looming over Plas. "I don't need you. Mom and I never needed ya. Get away from me!"

Luke tries to swat Plas away with a giant hand, but Plas rolls out of the way.

"But Luke, you've been stayin' at my apartment! I have been helpin' ya!"

"Ya can barely look after yerself," Luke retorts, a massive fist smashing down towards Plastic Man. "I'm never comin' back. Mom looks after me so much better. You'll never be a good dad."

Plastic Man barely dodges the fist, rolling out of the way again. "Luke, please... I can be a good dad..."

Plas realises he's rolled into the feet of someone. He looks up to see his ex-wife. Angel.

"You'll never be a good husband either. Who could want you?" She glares down at him. "Always running from your problems. You're a coward. How can someone like you even be a hero?"

Before Plas can answer, another voice joins in.

"He's not a real hero," A brown-haired man descends from the sky on the other side of Plas, his green ring glowing.

"Hal?..."

"You're just a joke, Plas, that's all you'll ever be. Do you really think I took your confession seriously? There's no way I'd get with you! You're good for a laugh, and that's it." Hal laughs at Plas, and the stretchy hero leans away from Hal and Angel.

Luke, Angel and Hal surround Plas, and he becomes smaller, shrinking away from their glares.

“O’Brian.”

Plastic Man turns to face the voice. “Bats!”

Batman walks up and joins the circle, his harsh gaze pinning Plas to the concrete.

“You should have never joined The League,” Batman says matter of factly. “You’re useless, just a dead weight. You drag the team down. You screw up everything. I thought you would make a good hero. You’ve let me down, O’Brian.”

“You’ll never be a good dad…”

“Who could want you? You’re a coward.”

“You’re just a joke, Plas. That’s all you’ll ever be.”

“You’ve let me down, O'Brian.”

“No…”

Plas squeezes his eyes shut, their words echoing through his head. He knew he shouldn't listen, but they'd pulled his worries and fears right out of his brain, and it was pretty hard to ignore those thoughts when they weren't just in his head.

“Plastic Man! Are you okay?”

Plas opens his eyes a crack at the unfamiliar voice. Luke, Angel, Hal and Batman are gone. In their place, a ring of police stand, keeping a crowd of people at bay.

“Plastic Man?”

“Oh, yeah, I'm fine!” Plas replies, but his voice is wobbly.

“We have apprehended Doctor Dome sir. We got here just as you started freaking out. Are you sure you're okay?”

Plas grows back to his normal size and rises to his feet. He slaps on his normal grin and throws some confidence into his voice.

“Yeah! Don't worry about me!”

The policeman looks skeptical. “Sir-”

Plas puts a finger up to his ear. “What's that? The Justice League needs me? I'll be right there! Sorry officer? I gotta go. League business!”

Plastic Man morphs into a spring and bounces away before the policeman can say anything. He needs to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“Angel was right. I am a coward.” He mutters to himself as he bounces away.

He feels tears begin to run down his cheeks. How long had it been since he had cried? He can't remember.

Where could he go? He doesn't want to be around his league mates, if he was even still in the league after what Bats said. He can't go home - he doesn't want Evelyn to see him in this state. He’s sure they don't want to stay with him anyway, but he doesn't want to give them another reason. He doesn't want to see Woozy, just in case he’d say something else bad that is in his head. He has nowhere to go.

So Plastic Man runs. He doesn't know where he is going, just that he needs to get away from the thoughts that follow him like a shadow. He runs knowing he'll never escape them, but he sure as hell will try. Running from his problems is something he does best, after all.

longest arm of the law, eh? interesting. you must have a real thing for justice, yeah? anyways, you're one of my favorite league members! i got you a little gift to show my appreciation. here you go, friend.

🎁 enjoy, the plastic man.

🎁 anon / ☠️ 🧪 anon @feartoxinanon

Yeah! I'm in the FBI and the Justice League! I'm pretty good at helpin' people get justice!

Thanks for the gift, pal! Always love meeting a fan!

*opens it*

[marmorafarms]

Gridball Jerseys and Cigarettes

Sebastian x Alex

☆ Chapter One ☆

Hey guys and welcome to my latest fic! It is a multiple chapter fic! I don't know how long it will be just yet, and I don't know the update schedule as of right now. I'm really excited about this and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Alex has had a crush on Sebastian ever since they were kids. Their friendship fell apart, but Alex is determined to fix it. Will their relationship work? Or is it doomed to fail due to Alex's Grandfather's strict views?

Word count: 1,686 words (sorry for the short chapter, it just ended naturally at this length)

Warnings: Weed use, implied suicide, parental death, implied homophobic slurs, OC farmer

Sebastian was weird. Always wearing black, tattoos on his hands and a face full of piercings when he put on his concerts. His nails were always painted black, and his pierced ears always had a black plug in. A cigarette was always in between his lips. He was weird, bad news, the kind of guy your mama warned you about.

Or at least that's what Alex kept trying to tell himself. 

In reality, Sebastian was sweet, polite, and had a laugh that was infectious. He didn't laugh often, but when he did? The sound was magical. Alex always wished he could be the one making Sebastian laugh, the one making his lips quirk into a lopsided smile.

Alex could pretend that he wanted this out of a need for friendship. He could pretend that he wanted friends who weren't girls, weren't men ten years older than him. But it just wasn't true.

He wanted these things out of a different need.

It had started when he was a kid, seeing Sebastian sitting on the swings by himself at recess. Alex had felt bad, but another boy approached the noirette. A blonde boy with a friendly grin. And at his approach, the seemingly lonely boy looked elated. His face lit up, eyes bright.

Alex had felt a strange swooping sensation in his gut when he saw that look. He didn't know what it meant, but ever since that moment, he couldn't help but seek out that boy with his eyes.

He learned the boy's name when he was tossing a gridball with his friend, and accidentally nailed the poor kid in the head.

"Sebastian!" the blonde boy cried out.

Alex stuttered out an apology, but Sebastian glared at him and stormed off. His guts twisted, and he felt a pang in his heart. Alex nearly abandoned his game to chase after Sebastian, but felt that might be strange.

A week after this incident, Alex and his mom came to Pelican Town to visit his grandparents. Usually they would come to the neighboring town to visit Alex, but his mom had insisted on coming here. It took ten minutes before Alex caught sight of him.

Sebastian was sitting by the river, feet dipping into the cool water. The blonde boy from school sat near him, showing off the wheels on the heels of his new shoes.

Did they live here?

Sebastian caught sight of Alex and frowned. Terrified, Alex darted back into his grandparents house, heart beating fast. Was Sebastian remembering the gridball incident? 

Luckily, that didn't seem to be the case. The town was small and Alex couldn't avoid him forever. He learned the blonde boy was named Sam, and they decided it would be fun to wander through the forest together. Alex couldn't believe his luck.

They even started hanging out at school. Elementary school went by in a breeze, and the three boys were overjoyed when they learned they would all be going to the same middle school.

But then Alex's life flipped upside down.

His grandmother showed up at the school, and Alex was called out of class.

"She was…sick," his grandmother said. "This…sickness…caused her to have to go to the hospital. She's with Yoba now, Alex. She's not sick anymore."

His grandmother's words barely registered. Alex's mother, the one constant in his life, was gone. Dead. Never coming back. It wasn't until years later that he learned about depression, the "sickness" his mother had.

Alex didn't cry, not once. He was too numb, too shut off. He took off that year of school, trying to heal. His grandparents took him in, uprooting him from everything he knew, bringing him to a new town.

Sebastian and Sam tried to visit, tried to help. But Alex shut them out, occasionally lashing out at their attempts to cheer him up. Their friendship became strained, and eventually dissolved.

He watched Sam and Sebastian grow into the men they were from a far. His grandfather however, did not approve of them. He used cruel words to describe them, throwing in a slur every now and then. Alex's grandmother was distressed by these words, but you could only tell that from her expressions. She never said a word.

Alex met a nice girl in town named Haley. She was beautiful, but didn't come close to Sebastian. Her lips were plump and soft, but anytime Alex looked, he immediately thought of Sebastian's mouth. He wondered what those piercings would feel like if Sebastian kissed him.

Alex's grandfather seemed to approve of Haley, and always asked when Alex would finally grow up and ask her out. Eventually, Alex finally did, but was turned down.

"I don't like guys," she had said, eyes challenging him to say something rude.

"Oh," Alex said. "I guess we can check out girls together!"

Haley had laughed, and it wasn't long before Alex confided his deepest secret to her.

"I think I like Sebastian," he had said quietly, watching Haley take a picture of a cute rabbit.

"Really?" Haley had said, thrilled.

"Yeah. I think I have for like, years. I dunno." Alex said, shrugging.

"Are you gonna tell him?" Haley asked.

"Haley, I don't even know if he likes guys," Alex said, exasperated. At the look on Haley's face, he frowned.

"What's that look?" he asked.

"Sebastian is bi," she said. "I thought everyone knew that!" She whipped out her phone and began texting furiously. Her phone dinged a few seconds after she put it down, and she giggled when she read the message.

"Who're you texting?" Alex asked.

"Oh, Emily and I are making fun of you for thinking for even a second that Sebastian is straight."

Alex glared daggers at her, and Haley cackled. But it kind of made sense. Alex thought those slurs his grandfather said were based on simple appearance, but maybe that wasn't the case. He suddenly felt angry. 

"My grandpa says…things…about Sebastian and Sam," Alex admitted. "But I didn't realize he knew."

Haley made a sound like an angry cat. "George is an ass," she said furiously. "I wish I was surprised by the fact that he said that."

Alex nodded. His grandfather was an ass, he couldn't deny it. He tried to ignore it though. George and Evelyn were the only family members he had left. He couldn't lose them.

Making the decision not to tell Sebastian was an easy one. They weren't on bad terms, but they never hung out. It was easy to avoid him, easy to pretend he felt nothing. 

That is, it was easy until the new farmer showed up.

His name was Léo, and he had moved into the rundown farm at the edge of town. Supposedly his grandfather Davíd had left it to him, and Léo had decided to move in.

Alex wouldn't have given him much thought normally. But he couldn't help but notice how close the new farmer was getting to Sebastian. He was getting equally as close to Sam and Abigail, but Alex didn't notice that. 

Léo was making Sebastian laugh. Léo was catching frogs in the rain with Sebastian. Léo was going over to Sebastian's house and hanging out with him. Alone. In his room. Alex had to shoo unpleasant thoughts out of his head when he had first heard about Léo's visits. 

"You are so jealous," Haley had said one day, watching Alex pout as Sebastian and Léo walked past the ice cream stand.

"Am not," Alex mumbled.

"Looks like "denial" isn't just a river in Egypt," Haley said in a sing-song voice.

"That was bad and you should feel bad," Alex said, rolling his eyes.

"Doesn't make it any less true," she fired back. "But I think if you paid closer attention, you'd see that Léo is not your competition."

"What?" Alex asked, confused.

"I was visiting Leah–"

"Nice," Alex said with a grin, making Haley blush.

"Shut up asswipe," she said, but a smile gave her away. "As I was saying, I was visiting Leah, and we happened to pass by Marnie's place. Marnie was outside talking to Mayor Lewis, and I overheard her saying that Léo keeps making "sad cow eyes" at Sam, and that they need to hurry up and get together already."

"Sad cow eyes…?"

"You'd understand if you looked at Léo while he stares at Sam. It's ridiculous. Honestly, I think he got close to Sebastian in order to get close to Sam."

"Oh," Alex said, looking shocked.

"I really think you should at least start talking to Sebastian, even if you don't tell him your feelings right away," Haley said. "I think you'll feel better."

It took about a month before Alex finally walked up to Sebastian, determined to speak to him. The man was smoking, but it wasn't a cigarette. Alex wrinkled his nose.

"That's not a cigarette," he said bluntly. He internally cursed himself. What kind of shit opener was that?

"No shit," Sebastian said, amused. Alex swallowed thickly at the tiny smile that graced Sebastian's lips.

"What is it?"

Sebastian finally looked up at Alex, his face neutral, but his eyebrows raised. "Are you serious? You don't know what this is?"

"Way to make a guy feel dumb," Alex said looking down and kicking the dirt.

"Don't feel dumb, I was just surprised. It's weed," Sebastian said. "You want a hit?" he asked, offering the joint.

"Oh um…I've never smoked anything before," Alex said. "How do I…?"

Sebastian paused, and then smiled. "Let's try something simple," he said. "I'm gonna take a hit, and then I want you to open your mouth."

Alex was confused, but did as asked. When his mouth opened, his heart began to race. Sebastian was leaning in. He was close, too close! Alex's brain nearly shut off as Sebastian opened his mouth as well, their lips so close to touching.

Slowly, Sebastian breathed the smoke into Alex's mouth. He pulled away, and Alex knew his face was burning.

"I uh…I gotta go…" Alex said, flustered. "But um. We should hang out sometime!"

"Sure," Sebastian said, and winked at him. "See you 'round."

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

You wake up tomorrow in the Cullen house, fully dressed with 7 vampires wondering how you just appeared out of thin air on their couch. Edward has just gotten back from Alaska. What do you do? (Putting you at this point in the timeline so you can’t just tell Edward to avoid Bella, he’s already determined to be around her, but give maximum options to try to alter the timeline)

Well, anon, I am glad to know you hate me and endeavor to put me in the worst situation you can.

It brings me such joy.

Let's do this.

SI Twilight: Take One

I wake up in a crystal palace full of crystal people. This is not where I went to sleep yesterday. I open my mouth to try to figure out where I am and if I've been drugged but Jasper beats me to it.

A human is in the house, in early morning, with the sun streaming in and blowing the secret out of the water? I'm murdered right then and there.

It's probably messy, which means that a sobbing Esme probably ends up eating me as her control breaks, and then the rest of the family joins in.

Carlisle walks in to find some dead human in his house, his family covered in blood, and an all around disaster. Esme, through tears, suggests that perhaps bleach can remove the stains (it can't).

The Cullens move from Forks immediately, Edward throwing a fit BECAUSE HE WAS GOING TO SHOW THAT GIRL'S WHO'S BOSS. He doesn't know who I am, but he hates me just the same, perhaps even more than Bella Swan.

If it weren't for me he would have shown everyone that he could handle Bella Swan.

Now they make fun of him forever.

(Bella gets crushed by a van.)

SI Twilight: Take Two

Alright, fine, fine, I'll miraculously live.

I wake up in a crystal palace with crystal people. Fortunately for me, I happen to fall out of the sky right in front of Carlisle and not in front of Jasper. I am not immediately assassinated.

This is awkward for everyone involved.

(He's Dr. Carlisle Cullen, this is his house, and this is... body glitter. No, a skin condition, yes. Yes, it's a skin condition. You have a concussion, strange human on my couch.)

And then it gets weird.

Because I know the name Carlisle Cullen and I also no glittering vampires. I appear to have been given many drugs or I've been transported to the land of Twilight.

Well, when one finds oneself in a hallucination/dream/alternate reality it's probably best to pretend as if it is real and my life is at stake until proven otherwise.

Well, now, there's an immediate question here. Do I tell Carlisle I am a prophet sent by... a god probably (who also has batshit theories about his family that the original writer of this world wouldn't agree with at all) or... not. Well, with Edward, I can't assume I have Bella's gift and don't have much of a choice.

I may not think highly of Edward or his gift but he does pick up on some things. My having an inkling who his family is is bound to come out. I can only hope I'm not so delicious that he eats me.

So I confess.

Carlisle's not sure he believes me.

Then I drop a lot of details and... he stares. This is weird, he doesn't like it. Neither do I, Carlisle, neither do I.

Well, the family comes around by this point and are stunned as yes, I know about vampires, I know about the Volturi, I know very nuanced details of their past, I know everything, and I appeared out of nowhere on their couch.

Hello, please don't kill me.

Well, there's now much to discuss.

A vote is held in my honor (with me there, probably in a lawn chair at the table). What are we going to do about the girl?

Edward and Rosalie vote I not be turned even though this means... yes, killing me, and I am sitting right there (hello friends). Carlisle is appalled, but I don't exactly want to be a vampire and there's not much other choice. Despite choices made for Bella, there really wasn't a choice there, when she knew the secret she was technically doomed.

As I now am.

I imagine the family is very uncomfortable with the idea of mercy killing me so the discussion is postponed with the hope being I like the family enough to want to turn. Or I... pop back into my own universe. Yes, that would be nice, I say.

(The universe does not spare me, oh cruel universe.)

Well, then there's the other issue. See, even with my sudden and very distracting appearance, the Cullen kids are still off to school (I am not given that I appeared out of nowhere and have no documents) and... Bella Swan's still in real trouble.

Now, I do feel bad for Bella, but I'm not sure there's much I can do. I suppose my status as prophet lends me some credence but I'm only human. Edward can squash me like a bug and Alice presumably can see my every decision.

Well, my guilt gets to me, while the kids are at school (and Alice is probably distracted watching Edward, I hope) I decide to phone up Carlisle.

Carlisle, I say, we have to talk about your crazy son and Bella Swan. Well, naturally, Carlisle doesn't want to hear this. He really doesn't want to hear any of this. He believes it even less, even though I am a prophet, with disturbing knowledge of everything, and the examples I'm citing are really disturbing (Edward's moment of empathy with a pedophile, Edward's contemplation of the Biology massacre, Edward returning to Forks period, Edward's hatred of Rosalie, Edward's every Edward moment, etc.)

All I'm saying, Carlisle, is that it might work out in the end for Bella but it... might not. And oh, even if it works out, the Volturi may very well fall and mankind will be doomed to an age of anarchy because you didn't want to move towns.

Carlisle doesn't necessarily agree but this is all very upsetting and moving towns won't cause any harm (and, if I'm getting turned anyway, it probably is best to contact Aro to see if this jumping universe thing has ever happened before) so when the family gets home he drops the news: we're moving.

Edward has a panic attack for reasons he can't explain to himself except, maybe, humiliation.

The family doesn't have to move, Edward can handle it! Carlisle tells Edward he's not willing to risk it, in what universe is this worth the risk? Plus, they already have me to deal with (hello, I say)

Rosalie also whines, because dammit they just moved, and Edward hasn't even messed up yet. This makes it that much worse for Edward.

Of course, my watching this and thinking thoughts doesn't help things, and Edward (rightfully) blames me for this. How dare I instill doubt in Carlisle that Edward can't handle this! I tell him if he wants to eat Bella Swan in front of Biology and blow the secret, that's his call.

Edward... can't exactly deny this is a possibility. Though he really really really wants to.

If I'm lucky, I'm then sent off to Volterra where, while I'll undoubtedly be turned, at least I'm not eaten by Edward and I've done something for Bella.

Poor Bella is also probably picked up by the Volturi and turned for her gift which Aro hears about through me. So... Sorry Bella, at least you'll probably like being a vampire and aren't eaten by Edward.

If I'm unlucky, both myself and Bella are eaten by Edward.

[sweetcherrypie1967]

In the Name of Love

To everyone around them, what was about to happen had been a complete surprise and not to mention unexpected. But, everyone else didn't know about the secret the two shared. The months of sneaking around Hogwarts just to avoid being seen together, the stolen kisses, the insults they didn't mean, and the fear of what they felt. For if it became public, they'd surely be killed..or worse.

You see, to everyone else, that two despised one another just as they seemingly had for years before now. Even their closest friends didn't have a clue about what they were hiding.

But soon, everyone would know.

The students and staff of Hogwarts gathered around in the courtyard while the Death Eaters were on the other side. Something odd caught most of their eyes though, it was Hagrid. Hagrid, in the midst of the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself, not only that but he was carrying someone.

"Who is it that Hagrid is carrying?" Hermione Granger's panicked voice was heard.

"Who is Hagrid carrying?!" Hermione said louder and in more panic than before.

She got no answer, until..

"Harry Potter is dead," the voice of Voldemort rang out. His voice alone was enough to cause someone's skin to crawl, but for him to say that their Chosen One, their friend, was dead?

No!" Ginny Weasley exclaimed as she tried to rush to the body of the boy she loved.

But her father, Arthur Weasley, held her back as she sobbed uncontrollably as he knew that now wasn't the time to grieve.

They were all still in danger.

Hermione knew this, that's why the only reaction she had was hot, burning tears were running down her face. Harry Potter is practically her brother but he wouldn't want her to put herself or others in danger due to her emotions.

"Harry Potter is dead!" he repeated to the students and staff with grief filled expressions. There were earsplitting screams from those who were close to The Chosen One. Even Draco Malfoy was greatly affected by the loss. Not that he had liked the boy much, but he knew what it meant for him and the rest of the Wizarding World.

"Harry Potter is dead!" He repeated once more but to those on his side of the courtyard, and they laughed.

Draco Malfoy had at this point, not paid much attention to anything else. Lost in the realization that the Light had lost and all was doomed, even he who was on the side who won had still lost. For he had a secret that, once revealed, would make him no different to the ones who had been on the other side the entire time.

He was in love with a muggleborn.

It wasn't until he had heard his father beckoning him across the courtyard that he was snapped back into reality.

"Draco!" His father said gesturing for him to come by his side.

The blond boy hesitated, he could stay. He could be among all the other he would eventually die with, he could stay here and get it over with sooner and not have to live without his love. Then again, what about his family? What would happen to them? Weren't they the ones he had done all of this for, weren't they the ones who got him into all of this in the first place?

"Draco!" His father persisted.

Draco was torn, his family or his beliefs. He I surely took a step forward when a small hand caught his and his grey eyes locked with brown ones.

"Don't do it Draco," Hermione Granger begged him, "stay with us, stay with me."

He paused holding his love's fragile hands tight in his own. Seeing the fear in her eyes, he had made his final decision. He stood tall and more confident in himself then he had been in a long time.

Draco would stay. He would stay for her.

He gave her hand a squeeze and small smile to reassure her of his decision, she smiled tearfully and engulfed him in a hug to which he returned. "Anything for you," he whispered in her ear.

"Thank you," she whispered back before breaking the hug but still held his hand firmly.

"The Malfoy boy has become a filthy blood traitor!" Some Death Eater Draco didn't know called out angrily.

"What is this?" Voldemort called after seeing the exchange, "surely you have raised him better than this, Lucius?"

"Yes, my Lord, we did," Lucius said without emotion.

"It appears you hadn't done a well enough job at it. So few remaining pure families and with even less heirs to carry on their legacy," Voldemort mused, "the mudbloods have ruined so many good family names, Potter's pet has snuck in and now soiled the Malfoy's name."

"Hermione didn't 'soil' the Malfoy name, I did," Draco spoke up, "it was me who fell in love with her and it is me who will gladly choose her over your worthless cause."

"Love," he said in disgust, "what a foolish choice, I thought you were smarter than that. You should be ashamed."

"Just because you've never had it doesn't mean it's foolish," Draco argued, "and I'm not ashamed, I'm doing all this in the name of love. I'm done hiding from it."

"What a disappointment, I had such hopes for this one," Voldemort said sounding hardly disappointed or even surprised, "I'll give you one more chance, young Malfoy. Join me and you family and live a life like you deserve or you can die here and now right after Potter's whore."

"Don't call her that," Draco growled now seething with anger, "my mind is made up, I'd rather be under the cruciatus than live whatever life you would have planned."

"The cruciatus? I do think that can be arranged," Voldemort said casually right before pointing his wand at the boy.

"Cruc-"

Draco closed his eyes in anticipation for the pain he was about to experience, it wouldn't be his first experience with the curse, but it never came. He looked up just in time to see Neville Longbottom cut the head off of Voldemort's snake, Nagini. Voldemort roared at the sight knowing what it meant even when Draco didn't quite understand.

Moments later the fighting resumed, though now Draco Malfoy was known to be fighting on the other side. They had ran back into Hogwarts, if only for their last time. He and Hermione were fighting the death eaters side by side when they heard Hagrid.

"Harry! Where's Harry?" He cried.

While Hermione instantly looked to where his body had been mere seconds before only to find it gone, Draco cast a spell to prevent her from being injured due to her badly timed distraction.

Everything was happening so fast that, before they knew it, everything suddenly stopped when one voice was heard throughout the Great Hall.

"Protego!" Harry Potter shouted.

Everyone watched as Harry and Voldemort dueled for the final time.

And just like that, Voldemort was dead.

Draco had been helping to heal the wounded, he couldn't help but be angry at himself for previously causing a few of them before changing his side but at least he was making it right. He had actually found that he sort of liked helping people like this. Perhaps it was from the exhilaration of it all finally being over, he could finally have the life he wanted. It was after finishing with a sixth year Ravenclaw he didn't recognize that his Mother approached him.

She had gathered him into a hug, which was quite unusual for her especially in a public place, and he recuperated it. "My baby boy," Narcissa kept repeating. When the embrace ended she looked at him with glassy eyes, "I'm so proud to call you my son. You stood for what you believed in and even found love," she told him.

"Mother-" Draco began, truly moved by her words, when she interrupted.

"Speaking of which, I want you to have this," Narcissa told him taking out a small black box, "I'm sure you know what this is and if you care for her as much as you've displayed today, then I'm sure you won't waste any time in using it."

Now Draco was walking with Hermione down the halls of Hogwarts nervously fiddling with the box in his pocket.

"What is it you wanted to talk about? There's no one around anymore I'm sure," Hermione said.

"So impatient," he joked.

"Well while I do love it being just the two of us, there is a lot going on right now," she said in a similar tone.

"I know, I know you'd rather be with your friends than me," he said not unkindly.

She lightly pushed him, "you know that's not true."

"You're right," Draco said trying to stall.

"Plus the anticipation is killing me," Hermione told him.

"In that case maybe I'll wait until later to tell you," Draco teased.

"No! Please just tell me now," she begged and he chuckled.

He got down on one knee.

"I love you more than life itself as I've shown you today and I want to spend the rest of my existence with you. Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?" Draco said pulling out the black box to reveal a beautiful golden ring with both red and green gems in it.

The next words will change both of their lives forever.

"Of course I will!"

[eccentricmya]

For the writing thing, could you write about Feanor and Miriel in Mandos please?

"Ammë."

"So you remember me," Míriel remarked from the doorway to where Fëanor's spirit rested in the Halls.

Fëanor turned, the warmth of his fire moving closer to Míriel. "How can I ever forget the greatest injustice done against me?"

Míriel lowered her eyes, "I am sorry, onya. There are no words that can convey the depth of my regret."

"Is that so, Ammë?" Fëanor asked bitterly. "What are you apologising for? Leaving me or for what came after?"

"All of it," Míriel stated.

Fëanor shook his head, "It seemed like you left and the world turned against me. From my own Atar to the ones we all called guardians. I became a problem to them. An issue to be solved. Like I was something to be managed and not a person - a child! - to be loved and valued like everyone else."

"That is not true," Míriel said, stepping forward towards her son. "Your Atar loves you, Fëanáro."

"Does he?" Fëanor argued. "Or is that his guilt that manifests as a need to prove his love for me?" 

"Do not mistake his expression of love as a show of pity," Míriel answered sagely. "He has always loved you. And the Valar-"

"The Valar despise me," he interrupted. "They would treat me worse than Moringotto. Even he was given a second chance yet here I am, bound to these Halls until the world is remade. I am to pay for the mistakes they made. For their mistaken mercy to their brother, for the greed they all had for my Silmarils, for their refusal to aid us!" He laughed then, as one whose every thread of sanity had snapped and what was left behind was an unhinged shell of an elf. "Ah, but that is what my life has always been about, is it not? You left and I grew up motherless. Atar remarried and I was deemed marred. He fathered other children and my rights were threatened. My own wife stayed back and my sons and I weathered through our fates on our own. The Falmari broke long-held bonds of friendship and I was doomed as a kinslayer. My so-called half brother was untrustworthy and I paid for it with my life. They act and I am punished. Always! Always."

Míriel blinked to clear the whisper of tears that her bodyless spirit conjured. Fëanor was suffering still and she could do nothing. "That may be, Fëanáro. But you weren't blameless either. To heal you must acknowledge your own misdeeds. As I have."

"You think I do not know what I did wrong?" Fëanor questioned, ghostly eyes narrowed in annoyance. "I am aware of what I am and what I am not. Blameless I never claimed to be. But what I want all of you to remember and acknowledge is that I was not born this way, Ammë. I was not born spiteful and angry and bitter at the world. No one is. In this I can understand Moringotto - violence is always a reaction. Yet he used it to conquer and realise his ambitions when they were denied to him, while I used it to fight for what is rightfully mine. What I created with my own hands."

"Oh Fëanáro!" Míriel whispered, hesitatingly raising a hand to cup his cheek. "Melkor has your senses warped. His hold on you is so strong that you cannot see reason. You're right. No one is born with hatred in their hearts. But onya, you never needed to learn it. He pushed you towards this darkness."

Fëanor angrily wrenched away her hand, "This is what I mean! You all would conveniently blame either him or me for all things that go against you. But look inside yourselves. You are just as wrong as I was, as I am. And if you refuse to admit your own faults, then perhaps you commit a graver mistake than I ever did."

A sadness settled on Míriel's face then, as she replied, "I do know that I was wrong. That you, onya, needed me and I did not come back. I will forever regret that. At that time, all I could feel was this bone-deep weariness and nothing else mattered but my yearning for it to end. A sorrow so deep had taken root that I couldn't shake it off. And by the time I did, after long years in these Halls, it was too late. I wish I could've heeded your and Finwë's calls. But I did not. And for that, I am sorry. I wanted to come back to you, but I could not. I've waited for this moment for centuries. Yet now it is here, it feels wrong. The worng place, the wrong time. And I..."

Fëanor averted his face, suspiciously blinking rapidly, melancholy apparent in his voice, "I dreamt of you. Often. In my dreams we would be one happy family - like I saw around me everywhere. Like Atar and Indis and their children were. They became my escape for a long while - my dreams. And when I woke up and was confronted with the cruelty that was my life, I turned to my work. Little did I know that both were a waste of time. My dreams would never be real and my work would never be respected, only coveted. Had you never left, Ammë, I believe the world would have been a very different place today."

"Will you never forgive me for being who I am?" Míriel beseeched, reaching out to turn his face towards her. "Will you not accept my love now, even though it might be too late? Will you punish me for ages to come for a moment of weakness and ailment not of my making?"

"No, I could never," Fëanor choked out, taking her in his arms. "I will not turn away from the one thing that ever had I desired above all else. You have my forgiveness, Ammë, and my love you have always held."

"My Fëanáro," Míriel breathed, clutching him close to her bosom. "Onya. Oh, how I've missed you!"

"And I you."

Pulling away, Míriel once again took hold of his face with her hands, "I promise you, tyenya. I abandoned you once, but never again. Even if I have to wage war on the world myself, but I swear, mercy you shall have. For you are right. The very enemy you died fighting, he too was given a second chance. Yet he had acted solely of his own volition, without any outside influences. But you reacted, onya. And I refuse to let Moringotto's treatment be better than yours."

"It is not mercy for myself that I want. But for my sons," Fëanor said, gaze fixed on the memories of world beyond. "I thought that being bound by the same oath would bring us closer. That having a shared goal would mean they are never left behind. But I have doomed them and that I never wanted. To share in my curse of abandonment, I would never wish it upon my own sons. Yet abandoned they are, by their parents, by the Valar, and by the world too. For who would follow kinslayers bound by an irrevocable oath?"

"They are not abandoned," Míriel asserted with a conviction Fëanor was infamous for. "I am done with waiting for the world to pass me by. You are the Spirit of Fire, onya, but I am the Mother of Fire. And a mother fighting for her child is the deadliest being there is. My fire is no less brighter than yours. If you could wage war on a Vala, than I can too."

"Do not invoke their doom on yourself too, Ammë," Fëanor replied, "There are so few of our family left who do not have a terrible fate awaiting them."

"What could be more terrible than watching my son and his sons wither away in these Halls?" Míriel countered. "I have nothing to lose. Nor do I intend to lose."

"Ammë..."

"I will return, Fëanáro. And so will you to the living world," Míriel vowed, placing a lingering kiss on his formless brow, then left to keep her promises. There would still be a champion for the House of Fëanor in Aman. Because Míriel had never given up on loving her family, just on life. And look what that had wrought. It was time to weave a better story for her family now. No matter how long it took.