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deepdarkdelights · 1 year

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Perfection | Jin x Reader

Pairing: Vampire Jin x Reader

Word Count: 16k

Series: (6/7) Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Breaking and Entering, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Anger Issues, Dismemberment, MC had a fear of death, MC has agoraphobia, but MC is in therapy (good for her), Jin is kind of an asshole but we love it, kind of pet-playish(?), Jin is basically a sugar daddy tbh

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you.

A/N: I have been working on this fic since July and I am so happy that it is finally done and you guys will be able to read it! I really hope the time this took was worth it and that the fic was worth the hype lol. It’s almost one thirty in the morning and I have a quiz so I really should be sleeping. I think this is one of my favorite installments of the series! I hope you enjoy the fic and as always I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and my comments. Ily 💜💜💜

Kim Seokjin had not only a pretty face but a brilliant mind as well.

At least, that’s what he told everyone.

If there was a singular sin that he could fully encompass it would be vanity. And the sin that he shared with nearly everyone in his “family” was that of pride: a deadly and violent mix. That blend was what led to his damnation.

He knew that he deserved only the best and nothing less, that was exactly how he had been raised when he was still human. In the late 1800s, he had been granted the privilege of being born into high-class society as the eldest son, the heir to the Kim legacy. Everything he wanted was directly at his fingertips and at his disposal. From the moment he was born he was guaranteed power, and that was something he wished to never lose.

As the heir to a luxury wine company, it was only expected that alcohol, parties, and lewd behavior were set to follow him, and he exceeded those expectations. But he was good at keeping business and pleasure as two distinctly separate functions.

And with the life he lived, it was not often that individuals met his expectations. And by individuals, he meant potential wives. Naturally, it was expected of him to marry and continue the family's legacy. But the gold spoon that he was born with in his mouth tainted the pool. No one was good enough for him and that caused much strife within the family.

He was well past the age of marrying at twenty-eight years old. He was beginning to feel the pressure his father and mother were putting on his shoulders. And, not to mention, he was well aware that he was aging. Of course, he would never admit that his looks were fading. There was not a crease in his skin or a gray hair to be plucked, but he could feel it. He could see the minute imperfections that no one else could. It made his skin crawl in disgust.

And then Kim Namjoon entered the frame and everything began to come together.

His mother had insisted on organizing yet another party to find him a wife under the guise that he was there to make several important business deals. But when the vast majority of partygoers were young women with stars in their eyes he knew what was really going on. And of course, he was not going to stick around and socialize with subpar candidates. If he were going to do that it would be restricted to his bedroom, of course.

Namjoon had come to that party that night, Yoongi in tow despite his protests. Namjoon was a cultured man, he liked to mingle with the members of high society from time to time. It helped him learn what was appropriate for the decade as trends (in manners, clothing, and amusement) came and went rapidly. And those who belonged to the upper class were those who set those trends. It was strategic and it helped his kind blend in as seamlessly as possible.

And Jin was the epitome of a high-class man.

And so, Namjoon and Yoongi befriended him. It hadn’t been hard for them, they had been around for so long that they fit right in. And Jin had merely thought he found more of the few people that could meet his high expectations - his small inner circle growing with two new additions. But of course, that friendship had started out with the purpose of using Jin for what he had.

So in turn, he used them.

While Jin had a pretty face, he actually was quite smart and observant. He took note of his companions' odd behavior. He never saw them during the daytime, only in the veil of the night. They had the oddest colored eyes - not quite black but a deep shade of burgundy like the embers of a smoldering fire laid within their depths. And they were cold, absolutely frigid to the touch like a corpse. It didn’t take him very long to piece together what they were, and it was only proven true when he caught the both of them feasting on lifeless corpses in his guest room. He timed everything just perfectly to discover their true nature.

Yoongi had seemed genuinely surprised, bloody lips parted in shock as he stood as still as a statue, the limp body still collapsed in his iron grasp.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was smiling. He too was not able to conceal his nature any longer but he wasn’t trying either. He took his time and continued to finish his meal despite the obvious living human presence in the room.

“You two have been holding out on me,” Jin said with a disappointed tone.

“Holding out?” Namjoon echoed before relaxing his arms and allowing the corpse to slip down to the floor, the thinnest drizzle of blood pooling onto the parquet flooring.

Yoongi could only stare at the both of them, his eyes darting back and forth between the two other men.

“Yes, holding out! You are immortal are you not?”

“Yes, we are, and I’m sure you’ve figured out the rest by now haven’t you?”

“You may have been able to fool all of those other halfwits but it was painfully obvious to me, of course.”

“Of course.” Namjoon nodded while trying to suppress an amused grin.

“I want in, I wish to join you and your kind.”

“No,” Yoongi immediately cut in, “You don’t know what you’re asking for, this is a curse it is not something to take lightly and flirt with the notion of.”

His tone was harsh, his face stern but there was evident pain behind his eyes. Yoongi had been forced into this life if that was what you could even call it. He couldn’t fathom someone willingly agreeing to eternal damnation and he would try his hardest to convince them otherwise.

“Are you denying me?” Jin asked, his face contorted in utter disbelief. He was never denied anything in his twenty-eight years of life and the feeling of rejection was infuriating.

“Yoongi, it’s his decision,” Namjoon interjected, his hand wiping the blood from his mouth leaving a streaky crimson trail behind.

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Yoongi hissed.

“What is there to consider? He’s already seen us and he knows what he wants.”

“He has no idea what he wants!”

“And why are you speaking for me? Just because you’re miserable and dissatisfied does not mean the same will be said for me!” Jin spat. “I grow tired of this human body. Every second of every day I feel myself wasting away and there is not a thing I can do about it.”

“You would throw away your humanity, your life, all in the name of vanity?” Yoongi asked in disbelief.

“And for greed as well,” Jin laughed, “Believe me, I am many things and one of them is self-aware. I am a selfish bastard and I am perfectly fine with that. I won’t allow my looks to fade and my fortune will grow as centuries pass. This is what I desire and I refuse to concede.”

He was a businessman in every aspect.

“It sounds like he’s made his choice, Yoongi.” Namjoon finally spoke.

“It sounds like he’s made an ignorant choice and I refuse to have any part in this,” Yoongi said, storming past the two of them and slamming the door shut with enough force that the mahogany wood cracked by the handle.

“So, are we going to fuck about or will you give me what I want?” Jin asked, his impatience growing.

“I consider you a good friend, Jin. I won't lie, I am pleased that you are asking this of me.” Namjoon smiled before grabbing Jin’s shoulder, “We’re all lonely children looking for a place where we belong.”

Lonely children, that was one way to put it. Namjoon was not entirely wrong. In a world where you deserved only the best, many fell short and in the end, you were painfully alone, whether you were willing to admit it or not.

“Before we go through with this, there are some things you should know.”

“What things?”

“You can’t go in the sun, not just yet, you’ll be far too young and far too sensitive to light. Quiet, dark, scentless places are going to be the best place to stay - your senses are going to be heightened tenfold. You must feed often in the early years, you’re going to be very hungry, bloodthirsty really so you need to stay away from large crowds of people.”

Jin was silent for a moment, his eyes shifting from left to right and back again as he processed everything he was told. He could manage, and he could figure out how to do all of those things while maintaining his position as an heir.

“Lastly, do not try and do this alone. In our world, there is strength in numbers as well as safety. You’ll have to stay with me and Yoongi, we will all be bound to one another as creator and creation.”

“So when you two leave…”

“You will follow.” Namjoon nodded, “We try to stay in one place for as long as we can so if it’s your family you’re worried about you’ll have plenty of time to figure something out.”

But they weren’t coming with him. As terrible as it was, that wasn’t a great enough reason to sway his decision. He still wanted what he desired and he was willing to let his family go. So he stuck out his hand, ready to shake on the agreement.

“I accept the conditions.”

~~~~~~~

Most people were afraid of spiders, some of heights, and many feared drowning. But you feared something a bit more abstract and with a bit more finality. You were afraid of aging and by association, you were incredibly afraid of death.

And that fear often leads you to do a few things. One of them was to start skincare at an absurdly young age. The other was to hermit yourself inside of your house out of fear of some horrific accident befalling you. And the other was to seek out strange and obscure places to visit before you die. It was odd that the last two coincide but they do.

There were days when you were so frightened that you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the comfort of your bed. And then you had days where you felt daring, if you were going to die one day would you really want to have lived your only life trapped inside of your own house? There were your good days and your bad days and they came and went like the tides.

Today was a “good” day. And by good day that meant you were on your laptop scrolling through forums trying to find a new place to visit. Living in a small town was hard, you knew everyone and every place because they were so few in number. But sometimes there were locations in between towns, or hidden spots in your own. Briar Hills is an old town, a historical town even. It’s not uncommon for places to be abandoned, concrete skeletons collapsing and being devoured by the flora.

It was finding them, buried in hundreds of posts, that was difficult. The teenagers in the town had taken to reclaiming those places, turning them into party spots in the blink of an eye. But that has changed in the past few months. Ever since the first body turned up.

That was the thing about small towns, murder was much rarer than the action that cities see. So, when dozens of corpses begin to show up in streams and lakes and people begin to go missing without a trace - panic ensues. As well as a town-wide curfew.

Briar Hills turned into a ghost town after dark. The streets would be empty, lit by a few lampposts spread down the street that was easily consumed by a thick, hazy fog. Every now and then the fog would be broken by police lights, red and blue shocks of color dispersing the mist as the night patrol came around the block. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

And, if it weren’t a good day, the sight alone would be enough to keep you corralled in your room. But it was a good day and you had become stir-crazy from staying in your house for the past few weeks.

After endless scrolling there was one post in particular that caught your attention. It looked like an extravagant invitation with a satin black background and deep red embellishments. It had very little interaction and it was written in a completely different language. For something as obscure as an abandoned place in a small town you weren’t surprised that it had gone unnoticed, especially considering few people checked this forum.

Putting the text into google translate had not been insanely helpful. The translated text was jumbled and made little sense, it was one of those languages that did not thrive when it came to longer translations. But you were interested and fairly stubborn and after extended research and decoding fragmented sentences you were left with this:

“The best bite I’ve ever had,” And following that was a set of coordinates that had been written out instead of just using their numerical counterparts.

You were interested.

What could that mean? Maybe it was some hole-in-the-wall restaurant, but why all the decorum? Why the translations? Who even uses coordinates anymore? The best way to get the answers you desired was to discover them for yourself.

That’s how you ended up sneaking out of your house, dressed head to toe in dark colors, like some teenager that’s about to disappoint their parents. Except, in this case, your parents were the cops, and being grounded would equate to being detained for violating the town-wide curfew. All the more reason to not get caught.

You started to get cold feet when you realized where the set of coordinates was leading you, your body came to a fast stop when the toes of your boots met the edge of the forest. The forest, at night, with low visibility, and predators prowling was a bad move. That just screamed a sudden and violent death, not to mention the bulk of missing persons' corpses had been found within its depths. This was a stupid idea, a bad move, but it was a good day and you were too stubborn to follow reason. You would make up for it tomorrow by hiding in your bed all day. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but a coping mechanism nonetheless.

You took a deep breath, squared your shoulders, and took a step forward. There was no going back now, you had made up your mind.

The further into the forest you trekked the quieter it became. It didn’t make sense. You were getting further from society so why was it so quiet? The wind was still, not a branch or leaf trembled, and not even a cricket dared to chirp. It was like every living creature had up and left, abandoning their home. The only sound that filled the static silence was the bubbling rush of water from the river.

You began to walk faster, your nerves urging you to get where you were going and be done with it. On top of that, your eyes were starting to play tricks on you, your brain attempting to make sense of the dark and fill in what was missing resulting in ominous shadows shifting through the trees. You were regretting your decision immensely, so you picked up the pace and began humming to yourself to fill the silence.

If you were being honest, you really had no idea what you were supposed to be looking for. The post hadn’t listed much of anything and you weren’t sure what would be at the end of the coordinates. But, the red light glowing in the distance was a sure sign of something. It grew more intense as you neared it, the light getting stronger the closer to the ground it was. When you finally pushed through the underbrush you were met with a set of concrete stairs leading down into the ground and at the very bottom was an old metal door with a faintly pulsing red light above it. Looking down at your phone you were able to verify that you had made it to where the coordinates were marked.

It was a bomb shelter. It was most likely one for the community back in the forties, an evacuation and safe point for those who didn’t have their own. It must have been abandoned and forgotten about after the war, left to rot there for the past eighty years. But if that light was anything to go by, it must have been reclaimed by someone.

You carefully stepped down the stairs, applying a little weight at a time to make sure that the concrete hadn’t eroded and wouldn’t crumble beneath you. When you reached the bottom you tried the door and to your surprise, it opened with a creak. There was a long tunnel just barely lit by candles lining the walls leaving deep shadows in between them. And now you could feel the walls thumping, steadily vibrating with a muffled bass. That meant there was another chamber somewhere.

You hesitantly traveled down the tunnel, long stretches of the floor would eventually give way to more stairs leading you deeper and deeper underground. This was a claustrophobe's worst nightmare. The more you walked the harder the walls vibrated until you finally came upon another door where the sounds became the loudest. Above the door hung a purple neon sign that read: “Blood Sugar.”

Upon testing the door handle, you were surprised to find that it was unlocked, and once it slowly swung open your nose was assaulted with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and a coppery odor. You swiftly entered and closed the door behind you, trying your best not to bring too much attention to yourself. But it appears you would have no trouble doing so.

The room you had stepped into was massive, the walls were tall and rounded out at the ceiling and were made completely out of metal. But it was far from a barren, abandoned bunker. The room was packed with people, some dancing, some drinking, and others wrapped around one another on the various red velvet chaises spread around the space. The music was loud and the room was lit by antique chandeliers as well as deep purple lighting casting an ominous glow over everyone.

The bunker had been converted into a club of some sort and despite the decrepit tunnels you had slunk through to get here, it was surprisingly luxurious. You were honestly surprised the entire town hadn’t known about this place. That much was certainly true because, despite the large crowd, you could only recognize about five people you had seen before. The massive gathering was largely that of people that were not from Briar Hills.

A set of delicate hands slithered around your waist, tugging you sharply towards the stranger behind you. A shout of surprise parted your lips as you turned around, slapping the offending limbs off of you.

There was a tall woman facing you with a grin on her face, her bright white teeth glinting from behind her deep red lips. Her skin was so pale it was glowing with a purple hue from the lights, her long black curls creating an even sharper contrast against her skin. And you couldn’t explain why you felt the way you did, but the sight of those bright white teeth had your stomach twisting in knots. Despite her delicate appearance, every red flag was being raised in your body. The urge to run was strong.

“Hello, sweetheart,” She crooned, “You’re new, aren’t you?”

Something in the back of your mind demanded you lie.

“No, I’m not. If you’ll excuse me,” You said, your voice steady and cold despite the goosebumps on the back of your neck and the rapid thump of your pulse.

As you went to walk past her she easily stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, her face suddenly incredibly close as she pressed her nose to your hairline and took a deep breath. “Oh, you can’t lie to me, I remember every sweet little snack that comes in here.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Look, I’m not interested in…whatever that means,” You huffed, taking a few steps back and breaking free from her steel grasp, “I’m just here for a drink.”

“Oh?” She hummed, “So am I, I’m glad we can cut to the chase.”

“Okay?” You slowly asked before shuffling around her imposing figure, “See ya.”

You slipped into the crowd, forcing your way through the bodies in an attempt to shake her off of your trail. Anybody else in your position would have lingered for the ethereal woman, but you couldn’t ignore that feeling in the back of your mind or that tug deep in your gut. She was dangerous, and no pretty smile or sweet words could hide it. It was in times like these that your intense fear of death became present as paranoia, warning you of all potential threats.

When you started therapy you were encouraged to slowly step out of your comfort zone, to do things that would combat your anxieties. So, on good days, you try your best to succeed with these short-term goals hoping in the long run you could live normally like every other person your age. But you often found your anxiety creeping up on you and you knew after tonight you would need the rest of the week to recover and that meant avoidance which meant hiding out in your rented duplex.

But for now, you had to cope.

When you broke free from the crowd you stumbled forward, a stray limb jabbing you in the back and sending you reeling onto one of the velvet chaises. To your utter embarrassment, you landed right next to a couple that had left all of their inhibitions at the door like many other patrons of the underground club. The woman was straddling the man's thighs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, her long locks obscuring his face. Although you couldn’t see what he was doing it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was as the woman’s mouth opened to let out soft moans of pleasure.

Heat rushed up to your face as you stumbled off of the chaise and backed up from the voyeuristic lovers. Of course, you weren't innocent, but seeing something like that in person was different from shamelessly reading smut at three AM.

A few feet away from the couple was the bar. It was surprisingly empty for a club. The man you assumed to be the bartender behind the countertop was relaxing against it, his dark eyes scanning your awkward posture.

You swiftly approached the bar and yelled over the music, “Hi, how much is water?”

He gave you an amused chuckle before grabbing a small leather menu and sliding it over to you, “We don’t serve that here, sweetheart.”

You stared at him in confusion before flipping open the menu. The only thing listed there were various wines all costing an exorbitant amount of money, and by that, you meant at least three months' rent and that was just for a glass, not even the bottle.

“These prices are insane, are you kidding me?!”

“They’re from 1889, newbie.” He smiled, a grin identical to the woman from earlier.

“Well, this was a bust.” You groaned, the initial buzz of excitement from finding a town secret had long since faded.

“Can I offer you some advice?”

“Be my guest.”

“You might want to pay more attention to your surroundings, you’ve had eyes on you since you stepped foot in this place.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you.

“If I were you, I would get out of here. Things get crazy with fresh blood, ya know? The people here are like sharks in the water.” The bartender said, regaining your attention. “Uh oh, looks like you got one on your trail.”

You followed his and the pretty stranger’s gaze behind you. It was her again, the woman from earlier. She was slipping through the ocean of moving bodies with ease, her gait like that of a jaguar on the prowl as she approached. You watched as her polished fingers wiped away what looked like stray lipstick from beneath her lips.

Without thinking you darted away from the bar and past the pretty man, rushing through the first door you found which turned out to be the bathroom. Once the door fell shut you felt like you could relax for a moment. The music was muffled allowing you to think coherently for the first time since you had entered the bunker. Everything had become far too stimulating and you could feel your anxiety rising.

You leaned against the sink, turning the water on ice cold before splashing your face so that you could shock yourself back into clarity. You allowed yourself to brace the sink and relax your body, focusing on your breathing and grounding yourself before you lost control, just the way you were taught to.

The feeling of ice-cold fingers on your shoulders threw all of your work away.

You yelped and flinched, your eyes flying open to see her standing behind you in the reflection of the mirror.

“I knew you were a shy little thing, you should have just told me you wanted to do this privately.” She sighed with a sickeningly sweet smile.

In a moment of flight, fight, or freeze your body chose for you, your legs running without you telling them to do so. You didn’t make it far, not before she grabbed hold of you and threw you up against the wall. Your head hit the tile behind you so hard you saw stars.

“I’ve been hunting you down all night, you’ve made me build up quite the appetite. Do you know how many others I’ve had to threaten to get to you? Everyone always wants to take someone’s first bite.”

What the fuck was she talking about?

“While it was cute at first, we've played this game for long enough, don’t you think?”

“Let go of me!” You yelled while grabbing her wrists and trying to pry her hands off of you. To your complete and utter shock, she didn’t move an inch, it was like her bones were made of iron - immovable and inflexible.

“Now, now, don’t go throwing a tantrum that won’t get you anywhere.” She sighed, sliding her hand up your shoulder to wrap around your throat and squeeze.

Your throat and lungs burned as her grip slowly increased its pressure, your eyes watering as broken gasps and chokes for air gurgled past your lips.

“There there, much better.” She whispered into your ear as she released your throat, your body going limp as you gasped for air.

She easily gathered you up into her arms and softly tilted your head to the side, her perfectly polished nails grazing over the stretch of skin as she hummed before pressing her cherry-red lips to your throat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel a slight pinch.” She joked before her jaw widened and a demonic hiss left her throat as her teeth grazed the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck.

But before she could sink her teeth in she was harshly ripped away from you, her perfect face slammed so hard into the bathroom wall that the tiles shattered upon impact. A loud cry of pain echoed throughout the room as she pulled herself from the wall, black blood was pouring from her crooked nose and her sliced lips.

Behind her stood the stranger from before, a miffed and frankly disgusted expression marred his stunning features.

“What the fuck, Jin?!” She screamed, cupping her injured face.

“She’s not a fang banger, Junghee.”

Her once flawless features froze in shock as a look of horror crawled over her face. It was the look of someone who realized that they had made a horrible mistake.

“You’ve really fucked up this time.” He growled in irritation, a genuine growl that had your skin crawling.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?! What is she even doing here?!”

“That’s none of your concern anymore, get the fuck out!” He yelled, ripping the bathroom door open and throwing her out of the room.

You stayed pressed up against the wall out of pure terror. Vampires, you had walked into a fucking nest of vampires and had the closest brush with death you’ve ever had in your entire life. Your gaze remained locked on the vampire, Jin, as he calmed down; the waves of his rage slowly dissipating. In this lighting, you could finally see what you hadn’t been able to before in the dim club. Under the fluorescent lights, his eyes gleamed a vibrant, intimidating red.

You winced in fright as he took a step in your direction, your body attempting to meld into the wall behind you. Jin raised his eyebrow in questioning, taken aback by your apprehension. It wasn’t often he had humans cowering in fear, usually, they shook from…something else.

“Enough of that, come along human.” He snapped, grabbing you by your sleeve and easily dragging you from the room despite your protests and your heels digging into the ground. He was pulling you as if you weighed nothing.

“Let go!” You shrieked in terror, struggling against his hold with all of your might.

He came to a sudden halt, gripping you by your shoulder and pulling your body so close that there was barely an inch of space left between his chest and your own.

“Don’t you think you’ve drawn enough attention to yourself tonight?”

You peered over your shoulder, and sure enough, there were several of his kind watching the two of you from the dance floor. Their stares were curious and hungry. Unconsciously you shifted closer to him, choosing the lesser of two evils, one vampire versus many.

“Look at that you’re smart, for a human.” He snickered before guiding you back to the curtained area you had seen him sitting in before Junghee had cornered you in the bathroom.

“Sit, stay.” He said with a smirk as he pressed you down by your shoulder onto one of the couches before gesturing for someone to close the thick curtains.

“Look, I just want to go home. I won’t breathe a word about what happened here or what this place is, it was a mistake coming here.”

“A mistake indeed, but a mistake that needs correcting nonetheless,” Jin said with a distressed roll of his (impressive) shoulders. “So, tell me human, how did you find this place?”

You sat there in silence for a moment, your face the perfect image of confusion, “Are you being serious right now?”

“I don’t recall telling a joke.”

“You - there was a post online, on a forum? Anyone could have found it if they were looking close enough, it really wasn’t that hard to find. All I had to do was translate the text and it told me where to go.”

“A…forum?” He repeated, clearly confused.

Dear God, he was an old-ass vampire who didn't know much about technology or even the internet. He didn’t even know he had advertised the place. He was just an old man in a young man’s body.

“You know, a forum, it’s online, it's where people who want to discuss a certain topic go to. I was looking for obscure places, abandoned buildings, and lesser-known spots in town. I found the posting for this place and it just said ‘The best bite I’ve ever had’...I didn’t know it meant literally.” You said, your nerves leading you to ramble on and on.

Jin’s eyes pressed shut, his face contorting in anger as a hiss parted his lips, “Jimin.”

Jimin and himself were the only two vampires in their coven that knew about the club Jin hosted. Jin had been careless one night and Jimin had followed him, discovering the secret he had kept well hidden. Jin bought Jimin’s silence initially with limited access to the place, but now he was regretting every interaction he had had with the short vampire.

One of the few times Jin had found himself getting on with said vampire had led him to express his annoyance with the lack of human stock for the club. In turn, Jimin had offered to help “advertise” in exchange for unrestricted access to the club.

Now that he had figured out how the little human had snuck her way in, he had to decide what to do with her. He could always kill her, that would be the simple answer. He could drain her dry and snap her pretty neck in an instant. But that wasn’t really his style, he typically preferred to savor his meals unlike his gorger of a “brother”, Jungkook.

Perhaps the human could serve a purpose for him.

“Come, human.” He beckoned with his fingers.

You remained frozen in your seat, your body still in active survival mode keeping your joints locked.

Jin sighed, clearly miffed by your disobedience. He rose from his own seat only to cross the room and sit next to you. His long fingers gripped your chin and jerked your head up, forcing you to look at him. His hold was ice cold, the chill from his touch steadily seeping into your jaw. You felt paralyzed by his intimidating crimson gaze. His eyes flicked quickly over your features as he turned your head from side to side, taking in your every pore.

“Not bad, for a human. Don’t feel too offended, it’s difficult to look as flawless as myself.” He said with a casual tone as if he were merely stating a fact.

“You look pretty average to me,” You blurted out the lie, your lips moving before your brain could stop you from verbalizing.

It was so fast you almost couldn't see it but it was there, his left eye twitched and his grip tightened forcing a slight whine of pain from you. He roughly jerked your head to the side, choosing to ignore what you said despite how much it clearly bothered him. Instead, he trained his focus on your neck, pulling the collar of your shirt down past your collarbone.

“Smooth,” He observed, his icy touch skipping over the skin of your throat, “Junghee didn’t sink her dirty fangs in you after all, that’s good.”

Without warning he leaned down, his nose skimming over your neck as he breathed in, flooding himself with your scent. His grip tightened as you yelped and tried to jerk away from him in fear that this time you would surely die at the hands of a mythical creature, a monster in the flesh.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his plump lips brush your throat, his cool breath fanning over the skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. His actions were reminiscent of a wine connoisseur, the way they studied the body of the wine and the aroma. He was assessing you - attempting to decide if you would make a good meal, that you were certain of.

You jerked as you felt him bury his face further into your neck. You could feel the slight flutter of his eyelashes against your skin as a groan parted his lips.

“Well, don’t you smell delicious?” He crooned, his tongue swiping over his lips and just barely ghosting over your throat. “I think that we can come to an agreement, does that sound nice?”

“What,” You paused to clear your throat, “what did you have in mind?”

“I’m glad you asked,” He said with a wink after pulling back from you, “You see, I think we could mutually benefit from one another’s company. While breaking your pretty little neck would certainly be the easiest way out of this problem, I do find you quite amusing, pet.”

Your body grew stiff as your mind conjured up the image of his strong hands severing your vertebrate in one smooth pull, your body falling limp and lifeless on the club’s floor. Your greatest fear was death and Jin was death incarnate. He could very easily take your life if he so desired and he was making that very clear. He cared not whether you lived or died but only if your presence benefitted him in some manner. Your life was inconsequential.

“Very few people meet my standards but you are very lucky, I have a rather refined palette and it just so happens you meet said standards. So, I would like to propose a business arrangement. You will be my sole donor and keep those pretty lips sealed about everything you have witnessed tonight and in turn, you get to keep your life.”

“And if I don’t agree?” You dared to ask.

A sneer marred his perfect face, his fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him in his blood-red eyes.

“Then your pathetic human life ends right here, right now.” He said, his hand slipping down your jaw to loosely wrap around your throat. He could feel your pulse steadily thumping against his hand causing his mouth to involuntarily pool with saliva, hunger twisting in his gut.

Your breath hitched, fear slicing down your spine like a violent chill. You knew you only had one choice, and that was to appease the monster that sat beside you because he was far less frightening than the unknown, than the certain embrace of death that waited at every corner.

When fear rules your life, you have no choice. There is only ever one option.

“I agree,” Your voice trembled as you swallowed uncomfortably under his grasp. “I’ll be your donor.”

“Splendid.” He said with a grin, his canines glinting under the light.

“Can I…can I please go home now?” You asked, clasping your trembling hands together to try and still their shaking.

“No, there are a few more fine details we have to iron out,” He said, his index finger lightly tapping your chin, “Firstly, I expect you to maintain a healthy lifestyle and that means no alcohol within a twenty-four hour period before we meet and certainly no smoking it’s a dirty and disgusting habit.”

You nodded slowly, trying your best to avoid looking into his piercing red gaze.

“Try your best to have a healthy diet as well, the junk you humans gorge yourselves on taints your flavor, it’s unbearably sweet.” He said with a wrinkle of his nose in disgust. “I will compensate you for your efforts and your donations, once I’ve deemed you satisfactory, of course,”

“I think that about covers it. And when I call upon you I expect your presence. Do we understand one another?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Your throat was far too tight, your eyes burning with unshed tears as you weakly nodded in agreement.

“Very good,” He hummed before leaning back into the couch and soundly tapping the top of his thigh, “come, pet.”

You sat still, your body frozen in shock as you were unsure if you had heard him correctly.

“Well?” He raised his eyebrow expectantly.

“I…I don’t think that, um-”

“Are you going to keep babbling and test my patience, or are you going to be a good little pet and do as I say?” He interjected and immediately you remembered the phantom feeling of his hand on your throat, the light grip that screamed threat.

You awkwardly shuffled on your knees across the couch and hesitantly settled your legs on either side of him, hovering so that your weight did not rest on his lap. In response, he firmly gripped your hips and harshly pulled you down onto him, pressing you directly against him in a way that sent heat rushing beneath your skin despite the evident chill that emanated from his body.

You could see his fangs even clearer now. They had become longer than before, the sharpened points dragging along the flushed skin of his plump lower lip. You were terrified by the thought of them piercing your thin flesh. What if they punctured your jugular and you bled out to death? What if he had just been playing with his food this entire time, instilling a false hope of survival in you just to watch with murderous glee as you realized you were meant to die the entire time as he drained the life out of you?

And then what? The void of inevitable nothingness? The abyss of the afterlife? You were spiraling now, you could feel it in the way your chest constricted and your breaths came out in panicked, short huffs.

A soft, wet, stroke against your throat pulled you from your frightening thoughts. As your vision cleared you realized that he had settled back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his tongue gently and steadily lapping at your skin. Despite your embarrassment, you could feel your body slowly relaxing and melting against him. It felt like you were being shot up with a tranquilizer, your muscles going weak from his ministrations as the skin of your neck went numb.

And within seconds his fangs were sinking through your flesh, easy and smooth. You jolted in response, a cry of pain leaving you as your fingers curled into the silk of his shirt while your body subconsciously leaned away, trying to escape the sudden painful stimulus.

In response, you could feel Jin’s arms tighten around your back and harshly pull you flat against his chest with an animalistic growl, one that immediately paralyzed you with fear.

The vampire beneath you was enraptured, completely lost in the feeding frenzy as rivers of blood flowed freely past his plump lips and poured down his throat. Your scent had been seductive, but your taste? It was better than any wine, better than ambrosia and nectar, it was addictive. So addictive he was unsure if he would be able to stop but at the same time aware he could not kill you because the rest of his immortal existence would be utter hell if he were unable to get another hit.

Kim Seokjin had a refined palette and high standards and few people met his expectations. But you? You were complete and utter perfection. And he deserved perfection.

His grip was too hard, unrelenting, crushing you against him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked your spine by accident. It was like he was afraid to release you, afraid that there was a chance you would be able to escape him, the apex predator.

But these thoughts were all uselessly whimpered in the back of your mind because the rest of your brain was completely flooded with euphoria. You had never felt so warm and tingly despite his cool hands in your entire life. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, the only thing keeping you grounded in existence was his tight hold. And there were other feelings as well, feelings you would have been ashamed of had your inhibitions not completely disappeared. Feelings that had your thighs clenching on either side of his waist, your heart beating pathetically fast, your pupils dilating, and your limp body helplessly rocking against him with his hands guiding and encouraging you.

This was completely out of character for you. You didn’t climb into random men's laps and writhe against them eagerly like you were in heat. That had never been who you were, but the position you were in now clearly said otherwise.

You were growing lightheaded, not only from arousal and euphoria but from blood loss as well. You weakly pushed at his chest, your innate desire to survive prevailing over the pleasure that had relaxed your muscles.

“Jin, please,” You whimpered, struggling to speak.

The vampire didn’t respond or relent, his arms still wrapped around you like a vice. In desperation you wound your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into his hair and tugging at the roots. The pull certainly took him off guard, his fangs sliding free from your throat and his perfect lips parting to release a startled moan.

His eyes were half-lidded but his red irises still burned brightly under the dim lighting, a perfect match for the blood that stained his lips and chin. He said nothing at that moment and from what very little you knew about him you could conclude that it was not often that he was at a loss for words.

Warmth trickled down your neck, rivulets of blood still flowing freely now without him there to catch them and that seemed to snap him back to attention. He slowly leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with you until he was level with your throat once more, his tongue darting out to lick up the trails of blood before tracing over the puncture wounds he had left behind.

Your hold on his shoulders did nothing to dissuade him, in fact, he quite enjoyed your weak attempts to keep him at an arm's length. Humans were so fragile, so weak, and he enjoyed that.

“Relax,” He breathed, “We have a deal, remember? It would be a waste to drain you dry in one night.”

“And how do I know you don’t just like to play with your food?” You asked.

“You don’t. You’ll just have to take my word for it, pet.” He smirked, tapping your chin with his finger.

“You’re not going to kill me?”

“Let’s just say your sample was more than satisfactory, I have no reason to take back my word just yet.”

Yet. And yet, he was actually letting you go.

“I’ll see to it that you make it home safely,” He began. But before he could finish speaking you were eagerly sliding off of his lap.

His hands caught your waist easily, one holding you steady and the other firmly grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing you to look him in his eyes.

“Remember, I call, you answer. As long as you abide by my rules we won’t have a problem.”

You nodded quickly, his words barely registering in your brain as your body took control. You would agree to anything that would keep you alive.

“Don’t disappoint me.”

~~~~~~

Days had passed since that night at Blood Sugar, days where Jin had not tried to contact you, days that you spent isolated in your house - a wave of agoraphobia so strong that the thought of passing a threshold frightened you to the bone which was beyond ironic considering your situation. But those days also led to you trying to convince yourself it had all been a bad dream.

If the encounter at Blood Sugar had in fact been real, you had little to show for it. The skin of your throat was smooth and untouched despite the fangs that you were certain had torn through it like paper. The only parting gift you had was the urge to sleep for days, a splitting headache, and a touch of soreness around your ribs where you were sure his arms had once restrained you.

Pretending it hadn’t happened was easier on your mind. Your whole world had been turned upside down and the monsters you once thought to be the stuff of stories had been pulled from the shadows and abruptly thrust into the light. It was easier to pretend it was a dream. But you couldn’t shake those blood-red eyes from your memories nor the show of pure strength that had been demonstrated against Junghee - her once perfect face that was so easily disfigured by the elder vampire.

You were afraid of death and the realization that it actually lurked at every eerie corner and you had sat in its lap like a contented house cat was enough to fry the connections in your brain.

And you could only pretend for so long. You could only ignore reality for so long.

It had been three weeks since you had seen him when he finally confirmed his existence in the form of a simple text.

“Hungry, you know where to find me.”

And that made your blood run cold. It was time to finally face reality, you had actually made a deal with a vampire and now he was cashing in on your promise. It was donate or die.

And in an absolute panic, you made a terrible decision. You placed your phone face down and retreated beneath your blankets like a small child hiding from the boogeyman.

Your phone did not cease to remind you that you had made a bad decision. The messages started sporadically - spread out throughout the hour. But Jin’s impatience grew as did the texts and calls. The eerie silence of your bedroom filled with a continuous buzzing as your phone continued to vibrate until you couldn’t take it anymore and without looking at a single message you shut down your phone. But that only brought temporary relief.

You were begrudgingly pulled from the safety of your bed that day for an inspection your landlord had scheduled two days prior. There was no getting out of it and in your mind, it was a welcome distraction from the spiraling anxiety you felt when you thought about your powered-down phone.

You had no way of knowing that their presence would only worsen the problem that you had created.

You were generally a quiet person that kept to yourself around strangers, especially strangers that had a say in whether you continued living in your home or not. You practically stuck yourself to the walls as she inspected your home, and while your landlord was not necessarily a mean woman she wasn’t very chatty. You two got along in those regards.

You were able to breathe when she gave you an awkward, tight-lipped smile, waved, and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone you rushed back into your bedroom and just barely pulled your curtains aside to peer out your window and watch her retreat. But when you did look out that window you felt your blood run cold. She was still there, standing on the walkway, and directly in front of her was him. It was twilight out, the sun still desperately trying to cling to a purple and ochre colored sky. It was safe for him to be out. He was giving her a charming smile, one that anyone would fall over at the sight of. You could see him laugh and then say a few words but you were too far away to make out what they were. And then to your utmost horror, she walked away and he made his way up the front steps.

You were frozen, your muscles tense, and refused to move. You held your breath as you listened. There was no way that he could get in, you hadn’t given him permission. But all of your hope washed out of you when you heard the front door’s knob turn and the soft click of it leaving the frame. There were a few light steps and then the door shut once more.

He was inside the house.

You felt absolutely helpless as all you could do was wait for him to find you. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, you were cornered.

It was only a matter of seconds before he did find you, a stern and angry expression clear on his face as he rounded the banister and the stairs and stood right outside the door frame of your room. His eyes were different now, they weren’t the vibrant red that you remembered. They were a deep burgundy now, almost black as they stared back at you with intensity. You couldn’t even make out the difference between his pupils and his irises. It was a bottomless, dark gaze.

“How did you get in?” You asked, the words rushing out of you to your own surprise.

One of his dark brows quirked, whether it was in surprise or irritation you did not know.

“Elaine let me in,” He said with a stomach-turning grin.

Your landlord. She technically owned the house, she could let him in even if you didn’t invite him.

“I thought I made myself clear when we spoke, did I not?” He asked rhetorically, “I call, you answer, I feed, you keep your life. What part of that did your little human brain not comprehend?”

“You called me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“My phone died-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” He snapped, his voice shockingly loud and incomposed.

You flinched back against the wall as he finally entered your room only to stop dead in his tracks not more than five feet away. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his fangs descended on instinct.

The two of you stood there, both staring at each other and refusing to move, waiting for the other to act first.

Jin was the one to break the stalemate.

“You’re on your period.”

Your eyes widened in embarrassment, warmth radiating beneath your skin in response. He could smell it, that was the only explanation and that was a mortifying thought that had you pressing your thighs together, tight and closed.

He looked shaken, frazzled, and incredibly unlike himself. His rage was forgotten, his hunger controlling him. He was gripping the footboard of your bed, the skin of his knuckles stretched taut as he held onto it like he was keeping himself grounded.

“I want a taste,” He said, staring you down without a single blink.

It took you a moment to comprehend what he had just said, and as soon as you connected the dots you were anchoring yourself to the wall and vehemently shaking your head.

“No, no way!”

“Yes,”

“No! That’s messy and gross and I never agreed to do anything like that with you!

“I’m hungry,” He hissed, “And you expect me to just leave when you smell like fucking heaven?”

“Yes, because everything about this is crazy! I don’t know you, I never wanted to find you and now I’m stuck with you until you ultimately decide to kill me so I’m sorry that you’re hungry but it’s not even my problem in the first place!”

That was the one upside to being on your period, the influx of hormones allowed you to become confrontational.

“I’ll pay you double for a feed directly from the source,” He said with gritted teeth.

Jin was never one to bargain, usually he would leave a deal with far more than the other party. But this was something he refused to pass up. Vampires, very often, had little to no inhibitions especially when it came to sex. Sex was often a co-occurrence with feeding, and menstruation was the epitome of that. He didn’t expect a pathetic little human like you to understand. You were fettered by mortal concepts that had forced you to believe you were to be a social pariah during that time, that it was “gross,” as you had said. Little did you know you were considered a delicacy in his world, ripe for the taking. And he knew how delicious you were when he fed from the vein, his mouth watered at the thought of what it would be like now.

Your silence to his proposition only frustrated him even more.

“Do you know how many people would die to be in your position right now? I’ve had women beg to be on their knees for me and I’m offering to pay you to do the opposite.”

You were sure that he was telling the truth because he certainly was the most breathtaking man you had ever seen in your entire life. But what confused you was why he didn’t just throw you down and do as he pleased. He was bigger than you, stronger than you, and far faster than you. If he wanted it as badly as he claimed, why was he bargaining with you? You could only assume it was the lingering effects of the era he had lived in. While he was an asshole, perhaps he took no joy in forcing himself on a woman in that manner.

And then there was the money. Rent wasn’t cheap, that was for sure. And not many people could say that they were paid to be pleasured. It wasn’t a terrible offer, and the last thing you wanted to do was displease a vampire that could kill you and had threatened to do so before.

Shit.

“You wont hurt me?” You asked, your voice wavered.

“Quite the opposite,” He smirked. He knew that he had won.

A gasp of surprise parted your lips as he closed the distance between you, moving so fast that a gust of wind whipped up ruffling your hair and sending loose pages of paper tumbling from your desk. Your heart stuttered in fright, every minute you spent with him only served as a reminder of how dangerous he was. This arrangement you had with him was dangerous, you were toeing the line between life and death and that thought made your stomach turn in unease. He was a vampire, an apex predator, a creature that you had stopped believing in long ago, but also the undead embodiment of death. The very thing you feared the most. All it would take is one moment of frenzy, a lack of control and you would be left to bleed out in your sheets with no one to come and find your remains for weeks to pass.

You didn’t want to die, but you knew he wouldn’t let you live.

The touch of his cold fingers to your waist brought you back to him as he tugged you toward your bed, pressing you down onto the sheets before moving over you like an animal on the hunt. His eyes were pitch black, the veins beneath them prominent, and his fangs dangerously grazed his plump lips. He looked like a fallen angel, like Lucifer himself, the most beautiful outcast of them all.

An involuntary cry of fright left you as he moved impossibly fast once more, his face now level with the side of your head, the tip of his nose just barely brushing over your cheek as he chuckled. Even his breath was frigid.

“You’re nervous,” He hummed in delight, “Careful now, we wouldn’t want your heart to stop, would we?”

He could feel the violent, rapid thumps of your heart where his chest was pressed against yours. It had been a long time since he had had a human like this, oftentimes he found it too annoying. They were fragile creatures and having to restrain himself was rather inconvenient, but he preferred his partners to be responsive when he had his way with them, unlike some of his kind who couldn’t care either way. Was it still necrophilia if both parties were technically dead?

And while your heart was making itself known, you could feel nothing in response. His heart didn’t beat like yours, it had gone silent long ago and that thought only reminded you of just how wrong this entire thing was. He was dead, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around how he also seemed so very alive and while that scared you deeply, it also ignited a disturbing thought within you. But that thought was quickly halted when he noticed your lack of attention on him.

He hated that your attention wasn’t on him.

An annoyed growl rumbled in his throat as he moved back, quickly going down the length of your body and ripping your shorts down your legs, exposing you to the cold air.

“Jin wait-” It felt as if all the air was sucked out of your lungs as he ignored you, plunging his face directly in between your thighs.

He was unlike any of the partners you had had before. He did not take his time even though he evidently had plenty of it. He didn’t warm you up with gentle words, pleasing touches, or lingering kisses. Instead, he was absolutely ravenous. It was just like he said, he was hungry. But you, on the other hand, had not been prepared in the slightest for how sensitive you would be.

You could only whine in discomfort as you tried to clench your thighs closed, one hand coming down to push at his shoulder. Your actions were completely useless, no matter how much force you could use it was like pushing against a concrete wall - he was immovable.

You could feel him growl in annoyance which only sent a shock throughout your body, your hips twitching and your shoulder blades digging into the mattress. His fingers were harshly pressing against your thighs, forcing them open wider and hooking your legs over his shoulders so that he could get impossibly closer to you.

“Too - too much!” You barely managed to get the words out, your body jolting from sharp bursts of pleasure.

“Be a good pet and take it for me,” He crooned, parting from you for a mere moment to look up at you - his bright crimson eyes cutting through the darkness that had steadily filled the room. “I thought you said you would do anything to keep your life?”

You couldn’t explain the feeling that his words gave you, but the shame that lingered was recognizable. Shame that enduring pleasure to ensure your survival was an addictive cocktail of emotions.

You couldn’t even form a response in time before he returned back to his feeding, his soft lips and firm tongue caressing you in a way that made you realize he was actively trying to make you feel good instead of solely focusing on gorging himself on your blood. You had no way of knowing that that just made the feed all the more enjoyable, the rush of hormones in your body only adding to the flavor. It was a flavor he already knew he was addicted to and while he was reluctant to admit it to himself, it was a flavor he could not live without.

And with each feed there were more problems to come. While he knew his blood, saliva, and venom were incredibly intoxicating to your weakened human state - he underestimated the effect you would have on him. With all of the hormones his bite coaxed out of you there was one pesky one that affected him: oxytocin. It was a bonding hormone, one that fostered a relationship between feeder and donator which was why so many vampires rarely fed from the same human more than once typically preferring to drain the body dry and dump it anywhere to rot.

He was willingly making himself vulnerable to you all in order to get another fix, another hit of your blood. And the worst part was, he didn’t mind.

“Jin!” You cried.

He was disgusted with himself, disgusted by the way his body shuddered and was aflame with tingles at the mere moan of his name rolling off of your lips. It was nothing special, countless others had done it before you, but he couldn’t understand why it was you. Why were you special?

He could blame it on the damn hormone bond all he wanted, but this was only the second feed which meant, to his utmost horror, it was him. His interest in you, a human, was more than just superficial desire.

Oh, how far he had fallen.

He smelled your salty tears and he could even see the gleam of them as they rolled down the curves of your cheeks as your hips pitched forward, broken whimpers wracking your body that only served to drive him crazier. He could drown in you and it still wouldn’t be enough.

And as soon as all of the tension within you snapped he was digging his fangs into the meat of your thigh, fresh, hot blood rushing over his tongue and down his throat. The blend was intoxicating for not only him but for you as well - the bite secreting venom that doubled the effects of all of his efforts that lit your brain and body on fire. You could become addicted to him just as easily as he was to you because that feeling, that feeling was indescribable and would never be able to be replicated by anyone but him. Just as he was chasing you for his fix, you could easily see yourself doing the same.

When you came too, you were startled by the gentle touch of his tongue to the puncture wounds on your thigh. It soothed over the cuts rhythmically, urging the skin to sew itself back together again. And while he worked, he stared. Bright, crimson red eyes were trained on you. His gaze dark and dangerous. Your body that had once been limp and relaxed immediately tensed once more. The knowledge that a predator was nestled into your lap was enough to reignite fear in your chest. You feared that the slightest twitch or breath would signal for him to lunge again, but this time the outcome would not be so pleasurable for you.

But Jin was a man of his word. You didn’t die that night and your bank account was fed in due course.

This continued for the next six days. Whereas before it seemed like the vampire was able to abstain from feeding for as long as he wished, he had now become ensnared by a ravenous, bottomless hunger. And that was all the more frightening. But what was even more frightening was the way he began to change.

He was still rude, cold, and dominating. But he had become ever present. His closeness could be described as suffocating. The only solitude you could find was in the daylight, but the minute the sun began to set he was back and hungrier than before. And after the…feeding, he would linger. He would touch you more often, his words still snarky but lacking their usual bite. It was like he was becoming comfortable around you. He was still insufferable, but undeniably comfortable.

It was that comfortability that encouraged you to entertain that dark thought you had tried to smother before. Your ever present fear of death could easily be solved, the answer to your problem mere inches away from you. You understood the gravity of the situation, what it would mean to become something like him. But you couldn’t deny the truth that you could live with ending the lives of others if it meant you could sustain your own. You didn’t want to die, you couldn’t fathom dying, and you had an undead man at your disposal. If he was willing.

It was after your seventh session together that you decided to finally ask him. His cherry red lips were pressed against your throat, swallowing every last drop of blood that slid down your skin. Your neck stung and your body thrummed with ecstasy, your fingers cupping the back of his head on reflex - moving without your permission.

“Jin?” You asked.

He hummed in response, visibly enthralled by the feed but letting you know he was listening anyway.

“I want to be like you,” You whispered.

A slick pop echoed in the room, his fangs pulled from your neck and retracted into his mouth, disappearing from sight. His eyes narrowed, his dark brows drawing together in confusion and distaste.

“No,” He simply said, retreating to the foot of your bed.

“Why not?”

“Because you would be useless to me, that’s why. What good is a donor that’s dead?” He scoffed.

You couldn’t deny the ache you felt in your chest, the sting that “useless” struck against your heart.

“You’re…you’re going to grow tired of me eventually. I’ll get old, I won’t taste as good anymore. Then, I’ll be useless.”

“Oh, I plan to savor every last drop that you can offer. I won’t let you go to waste like that, you are mine after all.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? You’ll just kill me before I go bad? Put me out of my misery before I can rot? I’m a fucking human being not a piece of meat!” You yelled, angrily standing up from your bed.

You expected him to become enraged, to become violent. But if anything he was deathly calm, still, and silent.

“Wouldn’t that be a kindness,” he stood from the bed, now towering over you, “To not have to grow older, to be in pain? To just stop here where you’re perfect, when you’re young and beautiful?” He said with a soft caress down your cheek.

“But you could give me what I want,” You pleaded, “You would never have to see me again, I could go far away and I wouldn’t be your problem anymore.”

A frown pulled at his lips, frustration falling over his features, “It’s not as simple as that. You would be bound to me, there are rules about these things.”

“Rules? Like laws, is there someone in charge of you?”

“Don’t bring that Twilight bullshit into this,” He hissed, running his hands through his hair in what appeared to be distress.

“Then I don’t understand, why can’t you do this for me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked! I’ve given you everything you wanted so that I could stay alive! Why can’t you understand that I don’t want to die!”

“Because you don’t understand what you’re asking for!” He snapped.

In that moment, he was brought back to that fateful day all those years ago. Yoongi had warned him, he had tried to stop him and he hadn’t listened. And now, he was being faced with a painful reminder of his naivety and arrogance when he stared back at you. Jin never regretted becoming a vampire. He never regretted his inability to grow old or the only way he was able to satiate his hunger. He enjoyed it. But if there was anything he didn’t enjoy, it was being under the control of someone else.

“We would be connected for the rest of eternity. Anything I ask of you, you have to do. You can’t deny me even if you tried. And even if you ran, you would eventually come back whether you wanted to or not. I would be your sire, your creator, you couldn’t hurt me no matter how badly you want to. We would be stuck together, do you understand?”

If there was anything he was afraid of, which he would never admit to, it would be having to rely on someone like that. It would be loving you, obsessively loving you like he felt the desire to creep over him. While he refused to admit it, all of those feeds had done their toll. He could feel the tugs of a weak bond forming between you - begging to be strengthened by a little of his own blood and a swift death. If you stayed human, he could save you from the fate he suffered through. And if he killed you, then no one else could have you. It was insane, but to him it was incredibly logical.

You had been quiet for quite some time, your face pensive before you finally spoke.

“That doesn’t sound all that different from our current arrangement.”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable!” He yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him and flinging it across the room in a show of strength and anger. So this was what Yoongi felt like.

“You’ve exhausted your usefulness to me,” He spat in rage, “Good luck defending yourself on your own.”

And just like that, he was gone. The only remainder of his presence was the broken chair that lay in pieces on the ground and the huge dent in the plaster from where it had hit.

You couldn’t stop the sudden wave of tears that poured down your face. That had been your only way to cheat death, and he wouldn’t give it to you after you had given him every piece of yourself that he had asked for.

The silence was loud, your sniffles and your pounding heart painfully apparent. But what was even more apparent, was the sense of paranoia steadily creeping over you.

What did you have to defend yourself from now that he was gone?

~~~~~~~

Jin was starving.

Even he was not so thick-headed that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He was throwing a temper tantrum.

He had left you for a month now in what was supposed to be a break that would teach you a lesson. You weren’t allowed to make demands from him, you weren’t the one in control. But if there was anything he had learned from his pathetic plan, it was that you were very much in control.

You had managed to burrow your way into his unwilling, stone cold heart. A feat that no one in his human and vampiric life had managed to do. The very thought itself made his stomach turn. He had never had to depend on anyone else, he never wanted commitment in that sense. Yet here he was yearning for you, a pathetic little hermit. His pathetic little hermit.

He let out an audible groan, collapsing back against one of the velvet couches in the club. The blue and red lights flashed over his face, his stomach rumbled in pain. He had thought it would only take a week for you to break, just a few days before you apologized and begged for him to come back. But he had greatly underestimated you.

It had been a month and he hadn’t fed. Everyone else paled in comparison, their blood sitting on his tongue like spoiled milk; he couldn’t even manage to swallow a drop. And that was completely his fault. This was why he was warned not to keep feeding from the same source. You were bonded now and he was suffering because of it.

He had never felt so backed into a corner before. And the fact that it was all because of a human was just salt in the wound. He thought that time would sever the bond but in reality, distance had just made it grow stronger.

Even now he was certain that he could smell your scent sifting through the hazy air, it’s tendrils beckoning him to come find you.

It was the prick of his fangs against his lip and the sudden pool of saliva flooding his mouth that made him realize it was anything but a fantasy. You were there. A wave of satisfaction rolled over him, you had broken first in a stalemate that you were unaware of. He had won. But any excitement he felt about his win was quickly thwarted when he was reminded of the present danger. You, who smelled so heavenly, had once more crawled into a nest of vampires.

He quickly lurched to his feet, cutting through the crowds of vampires and humans alike in order to find you. You were in the most dangerous spot in Briar Hills and he could not protect you. His abstinence had greatly weakened him, he could only hope that no one else would be aware of that. He was the eldest there and he was in charge, that should be enough to keep everyone else away from you.

Well, all except one.

You hadn’t even seen her coming, her or her “friends.” You had just barely managed to step foot inside the bunker before she was ripping you back outside, moving so quickly that your head was spinning and your neck burned with whiplash.

You moaned in pain, one hand cradling the back of your neck while the other dug into the damp earth in an attempt to ground yourself from the violent pounding that vibrated all throughout your head. At first you were utterly dumbstruck, confused as to what exactly happened. But the swift kick of a pointy shoe to your ribs rolled you onto your back and allowed you to be faced with four pairs of glowing red eyes.

The pain in your head was quickly overshadowed by the hot shooting pain in your ribs. Your spinning head could just barely register the loud crack that had sounded when you were kicked. What looked to be an effortless, swift strike from her was enough to break your ribs.

“Hello sweetheart,” A familiar, sickeningly sweet voice crooned.

It was her, that vampire from a month ago. The one that Jin had saved you from.

Cold shocks ran through your body as you panted, grabbing your side as you tried to scoot away.

“Ah, ah, ah,” She teased, grabbing you by your ankle and roughly pulling you back. Another sickening pop echoed through the night as a violent scream tore its way free from your throat.

“Now, I’m not letting you get away from me so easily this time. You really pissed me off, and now you’re going to give me what I want.”

You had no time to react and nowhere to run to. She and her friends descended on you like a pack of hungry vultures. They ripped at clothing and jostled you around like a toy they didn’t want to share. And all four of them dug into you. With Jin, there had been little to no pain. But this was the worst pain of your life. You could feel teeth digging into you, ruthlessly cutting through your flesh and ripping it apart. Hot, thick blood was pouring out of your wounds, drenching your skin and your clothes in an instant.

There was nothing you could do but scream, cry, and shake.

You were helpless and soon you were going to die. You had no doubt that they had every intention to bleed you dry. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Your greatest fear was suddenly becoming a reality and there was absolutely nothing that you could do about it. Death spared no one, especially you.

And for a moment you thought that death really had come for you because the pain was suddenly wrenched away.

You laid there, groaning in pain as you listened to what was happening. You could hear her low, sultry voice, the sounds of hits landing, and a deep, rumbling growl that shook you to your very core. It wasn’t death, but it was a close second. Jin had found you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes and look, you struggled to turn your head but when you did your heart dropped. Half of her group collapsed, in various states of injury. But Jin was the worst. He was barely managing to stand and he looked so weak. His cheeks were gaunt compared to the last time you had seen him, the veins beneath his eyes prominent and exposed. But worse of all, he was coated in his own blood. It stuck to him like an oil spill, pouring from wounds that were trying to heal themselves albeit very slowly. He wasn’t going to make it out of this; he was too hurt, too weak, too hungry, and outnumbered.

“I knew it,” Junghee giggled, her voice pitchy with murderous glee. “I could smell you all over her, you bonded with her!”

Jin said nothing. He wobbled, his chest rose and fell rapidly with angered breaths.

“Oh, how far you’ve fallen, Jin,” She sneered, “So high and mighty and look at you now. You’re no better than the rest of us - in fact you’re weaker than us! I’m so sick and tired of living under you and your rules, I think it’s time someone replaces that coven of yours. It’s time for a new jurisdiction.”

“I’ll give you one chance to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness,” He said with a deathly calm voice.

“I’m going to rip you apart and burn the pieces. And when I’m finished with you, I’m going to drain your little pet dry.” She said with a cocky grin.

Jin hummed in response, his head slightly tilting back as he thought. His eyes seemed to glow even more intensely in the dark, a ring of light shining around his irises as he spoke.

“That’s an interesting idea. Tear each other apart.”

You stared in shock as they immediately obeyed his command. It was mind-control, he could compel individuals to do his bidding. How many times had he used it on you and you had gone on unaware of it?

All four of them turned on one another, rushing at each other with abandon. It looked like they were marionettes, like someone else was controlling their limbs and forcing them to do as he commanded. You watched as the four of them attacked each other, clawing at their friends and prying their limbs from their bodies. The sounds were horrific. You could hear them screaming, crying, gurgling, and begging for it to end as they tortured one another. Black blood sprayed and stained their hands and faces as they ripped each other apart limb by limb.

Your stomach rolled at the sight, your wounds flashed hot with pain, and your ribs and ankle throbbed in sympathy as they violently mutilated each other until they couldn’t reach one another anymore - their limbs dismembered and useless.

You choked down the bile that threatened to escape your throat. They had tried to kill you, they were getting what they deserved. They were going to do the same to you and Jin.

Jin.

You caught sight of the vampire a few feet away from you. He had fallen to the ground after he had issued the command. His body was unnervingly still, his skin ashen and the sickliest pallor you had ever seen. He was dying, you were sure of it. That was something you had thought to be impossible for his kind but here he was proving you wrong. It was possible, but hard to do.

You felt a surge of adrenaline wash over you. You couldn’t let him die, he was your one chance to avoid that very same fate. You needed him just as much as he needed you. If you could help him then he would owe you. You could get the immortality that you were desperate for.

You cried out in pain as you rolled onto your side and crawled to him. Each inch you moved felt like you were being stabbed along the way. Your body was crying in protest but you were on a mission.

When you finally closed the distance between you, you could breathe a sigh of relief. He was hurt badly, but he was still “alive,” if not barely.

You grabbed him by his shoulders and slowly, painfully, dragged him into your lap. Your body threatened to crumble beneath his weight as you guided his head to the open wound on your neck. This was a risk, a really big risk. You were hurt badly and you had already lost so much blood, but you were sure that he would be able to stop.

“Come on, Jin,” You encouraged him, cupping the back of his head with your hand, “Come on drink, you need to drink.”

You felt a cool puff of breath on your neck, his nose slightly skimming over your pulse as the scent of blood pulled him out of unconsciousness. And as soon as he was awake, his predatory instincts took control. He lunged forward, wrapping you up in a vice like grip as he dug his fangs into the already open wound.

You hissed but held still, allowing him to get his fill. He was scarily inhuman at that moment. Jin had fed from you many times, but he had never been like this before. Silent, overbearing, and territorial.

Your eyes began to flutter, they were feeling incredibly heavy and it was becoming hard to keep them open. You had lost too much blood, you were still losing too much blood.

“Jin,” You croaked, “You need to stop.”

He ignored you and continued drinking, only digging his fangs in harder to force more blood from your throat.

“Jin please stop, please,” You cried, “You’re going to kill me!”

When you realized he wasn’t responding, that he was too enthralled by the feeding frenzy, you began to fight. You tugged at his hair, pushed at his shoulders, kicked at him with your good leg but it all was for nothing.

He let out an animalistic growl, squeezing you tighter before roughly shoving you to the ground and pinning your wrists above your head. He groaned in delight as your fighting ceased, as your blood flowed more easily into his waiting mouth.

You were fading fast, your visions steadily beginning to black out around the edges. He was going to kill you, and just like before there was nothing you could do about it. You were utterly helpless.

Your own desires would be your downfall. Just like Icarus, you had flown too close to the sun.

~~~~~~~

When Jin came to, he was confused.

He couldn’t remember anything after he had ordered Junghee and her coven to dismember one another. But when he became aware, he quickly figured out what had happened. Their corpses were sprawled about, their limbs still occasionally twitching.

And you were there, scarily still in his arms with the remnants of your blood on his lips.

He didn’t expect a wave of grief to wash over him. He hadn’t felt that even when his own family died or when he watched them mourn the loss of a son that never truly perished. But the sight of you, your broken body limp in his arms was enough to force a choked sob out of him. It was painful, it was complete and utter despair.

It was in that moment that he realized he did love you. In some horrific twist of fate, he loved you. He once thought that he would be able to kill you, then no one else could have you. But he didn’t anticipate the pain that it would cause him.

A soft, weak flutter halted all grief he felt. It was your heart. Your little human heart was still trying to beat. You could still be saved.

That was how he ended up here, with the only person he knew that could fix you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing with all your free time.” Namjoon hummed, checking over your vitals.

Jin stayed quiet, nervously clenching and unclenching his fingers. At that moment, he understood what Yoongi went through. If he believed in karma, which he didn’t, he would have been able to appreciate it. This was what he deserved after what he put Yoongi and the fledgling through. But Jin was far more determined to keep you human than his “brother” ever was.

But it was undeniable that he could finally understand him. He finally knew what Yoongi was trying to protect him from all those years ago.

“Junghee really did a number on her. I’ve given her an awful lot of my blood to heal her wounds. It would just take one quick break, Jin. You said it yourself, this is what she wanted.” He mused.

“She’s my pet, nothing more. She’s useless to me as one of us, I want to make her last as long as I can.” He said with a warning glare.

“It’s useless, you know, lying to me. I could smell it on you the second you came through the door. You bonded with her, she’s yours now. Do with her what you will, but she will join us soon. Whether it’s you or me, well that’s entirely up to her. But I have a feeling she would let any of us do it at this point.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Oh, but I would. Remember this, everything I do is for our family. You helped me with Yoongi, you understood then what I was trying to do. You can keep playing with her for a little longer, but she will join us. Don’t make me command you, Jin.”

Jin’s back stiffened, that familiar tug in his brain was there. That feeling that he needed to fulfill his creator’s wishes. And so, he bought himself some time.

“I don’t think it’s her you need to be worried about,” Jin said, that cocky edge to his voice back once more.

“Oh really?” Namjoon asked, leaning forward in interest.

“When was the last time you checked in on Hoseok?”

Namjoon’s brows furrowed in thought. Jin had got him, this was what he was good at - misdirection.

“Hoseok too?” He mumbled to himself. “Don’t you find it odd that this is all happening now? Yoongi and the fledgling, you and your pet, Taehyung and the little human he keeps in his studio, and now Hoseok? How interesting.”

He knew about Taehyung? But he hadn’t said anything about Jimin or Jungkook. He didn’t know everything. He had two more bargaining chips to buy himself more time.

“Watch over her, make sure she doesn’t hemorrhage. You’ve done a good thing, Jin. Thank you.” Namjoon said before briskly leaving the room - his office that now served as a hospital for you.

He wasn’t so sure that he had done a good thing. He was paying for what he had done to Yoongi now, what would come to him next now that he sold out Hoseok. And what about Jungkook and Jimin, what would happen when he revealed their secrets as well.

That was all he could think about as he waited for you to wake up. Namjoon’s blood was doing a thorough job. He was old and strong and because of that your body was mending itself incredibly quickly.

The only thing he hated was that you smelled like him. It was Namjoon’s blood in your body and because of that you were practically emanating his scent. Your normal heavenly essence was murky in the haze of his creator’s and it would take some time for it to dissipate. He was going to have to live with it for the time being. For now, he needed to figure out how he was going to protect you from the fledgling and from Hoseok. One was hungry and the other was certainly going to be pissed with him.

But if he could keep you like this for a little while longer it was worth it.

Your heart monitor was starting to accelerate, the beeping became loud and frequent. You were awake.

He slowly raised his head to look at you and he felt his stomach drop. You were giving him the thousand yard stare, your frail body tense on the mattress. You were utterly and completely frightened of him.

Your name left his lips in a hushed whisper as he stood, moving closer to your bedside. You shrieked and huddled into the furthest corner that you could.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to block yourself off from him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his tone the softest it had ever been, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Let me go, I want to leave. I don’t want to see you ever again, I want to go home!” You were rambling now, every frightened word running out of you with a gasp.

“You can’t leave, it’s too late now.” He said apologetically. He had never apologized before.

“I want to leave!” You screamed again, “You tried to kill me! You said you wouldn’t but you did! You lied, you’re a fucking liar!”

“I’m in control now, that’s never going to happen again I swear.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” You screamed again, your words trailing off with a broken sob.

He had felt grief when he thought he had killed you, but now he was experiencing heartbreak. His first, genuine heartbreak. He thought seeing your lifeless body was bad, but this, this was somehow worse.

He was suddenly overcome with the urge to comfort you, to hold you. And so he tried. The second he picked you up you began to writhe, screaming obscenities at him and clawing at his skin. You were trying to do anything you could to get away from him.

The last time he had held you like this, held you this close, he had tried to kill you. Your body and mind were completely in survival mode now and you needed to get away from him.

But he wouldn’t let you budge. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped you in a tight embrace, pinning your arms in between the two of you so that you couldn’t hurt yourself while trying to hurt him. All you could do was scream and cry and writhe but eventually your body went lax when you realized it was pointless. There was no escape.

Your brush with death had only made you more frightened of it. You had met that dark, empty void and the void had stared back at you. What some might have found to be peaceful, you had found to be terrifying. And, as a result, you were terrified of Jin. He had brought you to that void and your body was certain he would escort you back.

“I’m sorry,” He finally said, the words not burning him like he once thought they would for the longest time. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffled as you limply laid in his hold. You could feel the soft touch of his lips against your cheeks, collecting your tears as they brushed by in the lightest of kisses.

“Never again,” He mumbled, “I promise.”

You whimpered once more, the word liar echoing in your mind.

“I’ll give you what you want, I swear. You’ll never be that close to death again, I’ll keep you safe. Just give me time.”

You slightly perked in interest. What you want…what you want. He’ll give you what you want. You tilted your head up at the same time he went to kiss your forehead, only for him to gently kiss you instead. He froze for a moment, still as a statue as he processed what he had done before he did it again, and again, and again. It was like he had discovered a new insatiable hunger that he couldn’t settle no matter how many times he tried.

“I love you,” He admitted so softly against your lips that you thought you had imagined it.

He loved you. He was going to give you what you wanted. You had almost died. He was a liar. Your mind was reeling.

“No one else can have you, not even death can take you away from me; because you’re mine, remember?”

#bts x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere jin #bts fanfic #yandere jin x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #vampire jin #vampire jin x reader #yandere vampire #vampire bts #vampire bts x reader #predator universe #yandere vampire jin #yandere vampire jin x reader

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earthtooz · 1 year

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I NEED ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS, I BEG YOU 😭

·˚ ༘ ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS !

# warnings: gn!reader, fluff and a little hurt/comfort, mentions to arguments, somewhat suggestive but no nsfw, swearing, idk how many words this is but quite a bit LOL, unedited

# a/n: LUCKY FOR BOTH OF US THAT I JUST SO HAPPENED TO WANT ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS TOO. ENJOY MY FRIEND.

no one knows how you two got into a relationship and to be honest, you don't really know either. like how did you bag itoshi mf rin 😨 the most unlikeable bitch anyone will ever meet in their life... (lovingly)

bachira asked you if you were okay the first time you met and rin immediately lunged at him. like, please stop babe, you're just proving meguru's point !

how you met and all is a story for another time <3 because holy fucking shit is it a long one.

but the point is, although rin takes a while to open up, he is an amazing boyfriend, despite what everyone believes :,)

claims that he needs an independent partner bc he needs his space from time to time and you were completely understanding, even agreeing that some privacy here and there is nice.

except as it turns out, rin is the most co-dependent partner there is 💀 it's no longer 'i' bc it is now 'we'! slay!

he literally needs you to go to the grocery store with him and expects you hold his hand the entire time too- literally.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"you know how to buy your own green tea, why do i need to come with you?" you ask when rin pops his head into your study room where you were reading your book. "please?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you accompany him (almost) every time. if you're out he even waits for you to get home just so you can go with him like boy wtf...

well his love language is quality time saur.

expresses his love through gifts and acts of service as well. all of the gifts he buys for you are genuinely so well thought-out, like you almost tear up at all of them. one of them was a teddy bear that said 'you're better than mediocre.' and you almost cried 🗣🗣 okay but fr, he got you an anniversary gift of all his favourite moments with you, adding spotify bar codes to the pictures. there were photos from before u even dated like rin 😭😭😭😭 he is so babygirl pls take care of him.

on that note, i headcanon that rin has decent music taste. he listens to rock and alt, even anime soundtracks 🤣 but bc he's fluent in english, i bet he listens to arctic monkeys and the neighbourhood on REPEAT 🔁

wait yeah lover of music, it just makes sense for him to have a collection of headphones in his room. he likes to make you playlists too :( rinnie :( for me???

(rin also has a love language of offering you the first bite of food. you're sharing ice cream? here, have the first spoon. wanna try some of rin's lunch? he's already offering it. the smoothie he's having sounds good? he's already pushing it towards you.)

ALSO ☝️ BC THIS FUCKER LOVES HORROR, IT'S SOMETIMES TO A POINT THAT IT GETS YOU KINDA SCARED FOR YOUR LIFE... HOW IS HE SO IMMUNE TO ALL THE BLOOD... AND VIOLENCE...

he's SICK for this. you never let him pick the movies whenever you want to watch something.

also like it's a good enough reason to not get on his bad side. mans probably has 100 ways to k*ll shidou and get away with it.

anyways, rin would probably be hesitant to let you meet his family (read: sae). he's not ashamed of you, he's ashamed of sae.

so when his family demands to meet you, rin finally caves, agreeing to a dinner back home. only to find out he had nothing to worry about. his mother and father love you, saying how you were so beautiful the whole dinner, and how lucky rin was to have you. they even brought up the topic of marriage and you and rin kinda just sat there like 😐😁 smile and wave... smile and wave...

internally though, rin was over the moon knowing that you're accepted by his family. he loves his mum and dad, and although his relationship with sae is rocky with no smooth waves in sight, his opinion is... 'appreciated'.

best part was that his mother then turned to sae and went 'when are you going to get a partner as well?' and rin SENT HIM THE MOST SHIT-EATING GRIN EVER LMFAOOOOOOO

they got into a fight whilst cleaning the dishes that night.

rin then takes u home and pampers u, still high from the happiness that seeing u with his family brought 😇

WAIT ALSO - YOU TWO DEFINITELY SHOWED UP TO THE DINNER WITH MATCHING FITS >:o

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN'S WARDROBE LIKE DAMN SHAWTY... LET ME HIT... so he'll 100% shop for you too.

in fact, he's the best boyfie to take shopping, he'll be like 'no that's not your colour, but the fit is nice' or be like 'you might need a different size. this one isn't right' - you trust his judgment way more than your friends.

when you are out with your friends shopping, you'll send rin photos for his opinions and he never misses 💯 drops whatever he's doing to respond bc he's gotta make sure his pretty lover has the best wardrobe!!

rin loves paying for your shopping sprees too. no matter how much you try to wrestle him for who pays, he will always win. you make it even though by paying for your meals that day (the difference in how much money is spent on clothes and food will never compare, but it makes you feel a little less guilty so rin indulges you).

also attentive af. knows your tastes in almost everything, memorised your little habits and how you like certain things done. very dedicated bf once you realise just how much he loves doing things for you.

i just had this thought:

you know how couples post on tiktok all the time? well, you thought it would be nice if you could participate in one trend with rin.

you just thought it'd be a small post to share with your friends but instead, you seemed to forget to turn on the 'only friends can view option', it blew the FUCK up - like ofc it would, that's itoshi mf rin... but the comments were all like 'why are you with him', or 'dump him... you're too hot for him...', or 'you can do sooo much better than him'.

look, no matter how sensible rin is, he's not immune to drama and this bitch will not settle for when people tell him he doesn't deserve you like did YOU GO THROUGH TWO YEARS OF PINING??? I DON'T THINK SO. SIT THE FUCK DOWN.

so he's on your account, picks the comment 'i could treat you better than him', films himself giving the commenter the middle finger before you pull him in by the collar to give him a big ol kiss, cutting the video at the exact time that you both stumble out of frame.

look, it's not the most optimal way to fight back against the haters 🙄 but he doesn't need to prove nothing, not like anyone else gets you all to themselves.

oh this man has a banger social media presence, on his main AND on his private accounts.

he prefers posting on the priv bc there he can freely show u off and be more authentic.

itoshirinpriv I love when Y/n wears the things I buy them

─ megurusundercover when will u buy me things rinnie </3

╰┈➤ itoshirinpriv Choke and die

╰┈➤ megurusundercover kinky ;)

─ isagi11 Hi @y/n !

╰┈➤ y/n HI YOICHI !!!!

LOVES A SUPPORTIVE S/O, EVEN IF HE DOESN'T LET IT SHOW!!! WEAR HIS JERSEY AT A MATCH AND CHEER FOR HIM AND YOU HAVE HIS HEART !!! RECORD HIS MATCHES FOR HIM AND WATCH THEM WITH HIM AND HE'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!! he doesn't ask for much, just a little appreciation back :<

also don't try to compete against rin in anything unless you have guaranteed victory bc this mf is competitive AF.

will spare you on some occasions but more often than not, will give 100% into everything.

you use this to your advantage like 'hey babe, wanna see who can clean more of the house in one hour?' and HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY EVERY TIME. to be fair, so do you because like you want a clean house, but rin is SO speedy when there's a challenge involved.

easy defeat every time but you can't be mad.

hc that rin can't cook for shit. so you'll have to be there with him or just ban him from the kitchen straight up.

you taught him how to make microwave popcorn and that's about the only thing he is permitted to make.

even his diet-regulated smoothies are all made by you because holy fuck he somehow always messes up the recipe despite it being really clear and concise.

also you steer clear from him when he's working out because he just looks TOO GOOD working out that i makes you feel a little funny and pathetic 😇

if you are someone who does enjoy exercise, rin would love to take this chance to spend some more time together. you could be doing a pilates workout and rin is in the corner lifting weights, glancing over to you ever so often, sending him winks when you catch him.

loves going on hikes with you, no matter the difficulty, how steep or flat, he just really likes being active and if you join him, he'll be SO happy.

also u know how he loves yoga and meditation? if hiit and sweat-inducing workouts aren't for you, he likes stretching with you and teaching you breathing exercises that help throughout the day.

100/10 MASSEUSE BTW !!!! 👍👍👍👍

ofc, relationships aren't always perfect and especially when dealing with rin, someone who has quite a fair bit of trauma from being abandoned and left behind, it only worsens the tension.

believes you're going to leave him every time </3 like no :( just bc you're mad at him doesn't mean you've stopped loving him.

communication is so important. rin has a tendency to catastrophize a lot so please, put your pride aside and talk to him! reassure him! spend some time with him! that's how post-arguments usually go.

then you'll talk it out calmly, expressing both of your perspectives, apologising for breaking boundaries and trying to adapt accordingly.

this routine is a delicate one and it took months of putting aside your immaturity in order to grow together. especially rin who is so full of pride, but when he realised that his stubbornness wasn't winning him anything, he shattered his hardened perception of self and let you in.

"rin?" you whisper, poking your head into your shared bedroom delicately, afraid to upset the beast sleeping in there even more.

"what," he snaps, sitting on his side of bed in a hunched over position. he hugs his legs close to his body and the sight breaks your heart a little.

"i'm watching 'the shining', you can join me if you'd like to."

he grumbles something inaudible before you close the door quietly, hoping he'd cave because you chose this movie just so he'd come around. it's his favourite after all.

setting out a bowl of popcorn and some beverages of choice, you just manage to get the movie up when rin emerges from the bedroom, all gloomy and moody. he plops down on the opposite side of the couch, chin on his hand.

he's pretending like you don't exist which is fine by you, you know he'll cave eventually. so, you slide a cup of water and the bowl of popcorn to him and settle in, pressing 'play'.

around 15 minutes in or so, you're too engrossed in the movie to hear rin's quiet shuffling, and how he's now crossed the distance to sit next to you. his hand comes up to your shoulder to get your attention and when he has it, rin's quick to manoeuvre you so that you were now lying down on the couch.

he then plops down, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your chest.

"i'm sorry," whispers the striker. such simple words with such heavy meaning, especially coming from him.

you know he wants to say more, but you know better than he can't get it out, so, you begin threading your fingers through his hair, just how he likes it. rin softens completely against you.

"it's okay," you reassure.

"you're too good for me."

the next morning there's a bouquet of flowers and dessert from your favourite bakery on the kitchen counter.

rin wakes up at a reasonable hour. he likes to start off his days between 8 to 9 am, with 9-10 hours of sleep.

your sleep cycle has been synced with his because he hates sleeping without you beside him.

unless you have a good reason to push back sleep, he will not stand for it. stop depriving yourself of sleep and give your body the rest it deserves!!!!!

has a set night routine with you.

also i'm sorry but rin loves making out + neck and hand kisses are his favourite to give to you + he loves receiving temple and lip kisses.

goes to parties and clubs but very reluctantly. he doesn't like to drink, especially during soccer season, so there's not a lot of joy he can find in going out, except when he gets to eye you up and down all night and have fun with you AYEEEE 🕺😩

'you can wear whatever u want, i can fight' bf.

one thing you learn abt this man overtime is that he truly does not care how you dress. even tho it seems like he's judging you, he loves everything you wear and will admire you appreciatively 24/7.

#hope u enjoyed !#quite self indulgent but i can't help it T^T #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #rin fluff #itoshi rin drabble

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mauvewalker · 1 year

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You know one thing I’ve noticed being parroted around a lot are about how ‘sweet’ the strong boys are, just repeating what the protagonist Rhaenrya views her sons as she has stated it within the show herself. (Which is fine as people are entitled to their own opinions). I suppose it doesn’t help with the way the team black boys have been casted, younger actors & an actual teen matching the character’s age, looking all cherub/innocent like with the awkward hairstyles emphasises their youthful ages & the framing by show is heavily in the favour of the blacks.

Compare this to the team green boys Aemond and Aegon (both phenomenal actors perfectly cast to portray them) but considering Aemond is supposed to be a teen what 16 or 19? (the show-runners can’t seem to do basic maths, lol) however, as an audience member subconsciously Aemond is viewed as an adult & treated/judged as such with his actions. Again the negative framing by the show of him in manipulating the GA perceptions of the teams, I’m really surprised they didn’t play a villainous theme tune as like with Darth Vader every time he appeared on screen but I think that would have been a-bit too obvious, lmao. It’s not like the camera framework & Aemond’s get up in black, heavy smirking in the background isn’t already doing so.

Anyways having watched the show, I happen to be believe that they are not these sweet harmless little princes, in particular, Jace hides a much darker personality, imo. For instance, in the courtyard back at Kingslanding with Luke he says “it doesn’t matter what they think” so on the surface you could argue oh how sweet he is trying to comfort his brother but shows his self-entitlement in viewing the other lords/people as beneath them & we know Rhaenrya has told him “you are a Targaryen that’s all that matters” so it has been instilled in him this belief in the Targaryen exceptionalism being closer to gods than men because of their dragons. Also, that line mirrors young Rhaenrya with “their wants are of no consequence” about the small folk again showing self-entitlement & an attitude that would make them poor future leaders.

Jace having this belief instilled in him, I feel it would explain why they all picked on Aemond because whilst Aemond may be a legitimate true-born prince who was undeniably a Targaryen with the Valyrian looks, what didn’t he have? A dragon!! so Jace with his inferiority complex/issues & superiority complex combined, knowing he was a bastard targets/bullies Aemond unfairly for this (for being what he should have been if he was fathered by Laenor) to make Aemond feel bad, inferior & inadequate like him, which they were successful in.

As we saw this made Aemond risk his life attempting to claim a dragon with helaena saying “he did it again” (hinting that Aemond at 10-12 risked himself numerous times) and it was shown twice with his failed attempt with dreamfyre & his successful attempt with vhagar. As Rhaenyra has instilled in him being a Targaryen is the most important BS & the biggest symbolism of this is having a dragon. So, when Aemond finally claims a dragon, Jace is now unable to see or convince himself as better than or being more Targaryen than Aemond.

Hence, his anger when they all jumped him 4v1 beating him & when Aemond was managing to defend himself & calls them for what he is “a bastard” Jace’s rage comes out, not because he thought Aemond was going to kill Luke with a rock as he had lowered his hand holding it. It was Aemond saying “lord strong” which made him pull out the knife & slashing with the intent to kill him. Again Aemond managed to defend himself & the knife dropped on the floor, so obviously Aemond lifts the rock up again to use as a deterrent as there is now also a knife bought in the fight. The strong boys shared a glance & threw sand in his face blinding him & Luke slashed his eye.

We all know what happened after, they didn’t get punished for it, viserys sided with them reaffirming his favouritism & threatening to remove tongues for questioning their legitimacy. Rhaenyra didn’t care to discipline them for it, thus, reaffirming their self-entitlement that they are correct in their behaviours & did nothing wrong.

Another example of Jace self-entitlement, inferiority complex & bullying behaviour was during the toast speech. It was Aegon who pissed him off & some with an optimistic view would argue his toast was trying to bury the hatchet with “fond memories of our youth”, however, he was looking at Aemond with a slight smirk knowing full well it may have been fun for him it was not for Aemond- he was targeting him again when it was Aegon who bothered him & Aemond was minding his own business. The reason for this? Because he is comfortable to be looking down/belittling/bullying Aemond.

Again, with the dance with helaena, some would argue how chivalrous of Jace for feeling sorry for Heleana being alone but it was to piss off both Aegon & Aemond. Moving on, with the speech & then Luke laughing at the pig, Aemond loses his temper, rightly so. As all he was trying to do during the dinner was ignore them, both Jace & Luke have triggered him with the past, so he gives the infamous strong speech, to push back & give them a taste of their own medicine.

Jace is the one who then loses his temper & his first typical reaction when he does?? is to be physically violent & throws the first punch & which side does he purposely target?? Aemond’s blind/injured & vulnerable side of his face. The punch was laughable, Aemond didn’t even spill his drink & with one push was thrown down. Exactly like his younger behaviour showing no growth, he get back up & during this altercation, Luke had tried to join to gang up on Aemond again. So both brothers are unable to take the heat that they dish out & fight fairly 1 to 1, but, really what could’ve Luke have really done, lmao.

They should of known when they saw Aemond earlier that day in the courtyard training. At the time, it’s clear both strong boys didn’t know it was him (with the typical targaryen blonde hair they maybe could of mistaken him for Aegon) & were super impressed with his prowess/skill, before he turned around with the eyepatch & their faces said it all, like ‘oh shit’ & then soured that the person who they perceived weaker/beneath them during childhood is a skilled swordsman, unlike them. Another thing that Aemond has/is that the strong boys don’t to add to Jace’s list, alongside having both of a mix of a inferiority complex & superiority complex, a ‘sweet prince’ he is not.

#Hotd #hotd critical #anti team black #Anti jacaerys strong #Anti jacaerys #anti rhaenyra targaryen #aemond targaryen #pro aemond targaryen #pro team green #anti viserys i targaryen #anti lucerys velaryon #anti lucerys strong

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verniferae · 1 year

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⸻ slow, drowsy mornings. [ 𝐈 ] ✦ hsr.

In both your and his lines of work, mornings where you can take your time getting out of bed and prepare for the day ahead at your own leisure are few and far between. So, when presented with the rare opportunity of a respite, a momentous lull gracing your frenetic everyday comings and goings, how do you start your well-deserved time off?

includes: gepard landau, jing yuan. wordcount: 3806 ( gepard ); 3758 ( jing yuan ). notes: writing practice, character study, lore study & spoilers ( mostly in jing yuan’s part ). etc.: trying to shake off the rust after a three year break from writing... and to ease back into my usual writing style, lol. also it took me more than a month to finish writing these. snail-paced writing should be a talent.

✧ 𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐔.

Gepard is a creature of habit.

That, in itself, is a matter of habit, a testament to his upbringing – from his earliest days as a timid child hiding behind his sister as he’s chastised by their austere father, to an adolescence spent in the desolate frozen plains to uphold his Oath to Qlipoth and, thus, his duty as a Landau, unto an adulthood filled with empty accolades and ever-waning hope in a dying world. In those dismal days, it was all he could do to hold steadfast onto his beliefs—not as a child of Landau, nor as the famed Captain of the Silvermane Guards, but simply as ‘Gepard’.

Gepard, the child who had to mature a little too fast, who had to take up arms at the age most other children are still learning to read and write. Gepard, the boy who had to fill shoes far too big for one as young as himself, who had known this and still wanted to, if only to relieve some of the burden from his sister’s shoulders. Gepard, the man who had yearned, and still yearns, for normalcy, for a life where duty and obligation and tradition didn’t break his family apart, a life where he doesn’t have to fear a tomorrow that might never come.

A tomorrow that he now knows will never come, for it has been averted through the selfless sacrifice of the late Supreme Guardian.

And yet, what sterile rationality unfailingly acknowledges, the wounded mind often struggles to understand.

So it is that Gepard is a creature of habit. He has spent decades of his life following a predetermined script of his own making, modified and perfected to allow for any sudden and unpredictable variables encroaching upon it. From his mealtimes to his personal training regimen, down to his patrol routes and waking and resting hours, as well as his alternating visits to his elder sister’s workshop and to the Landau Manor on his days off, or when time permits—he has spared no effort anticipating the worst, preparing for the day of Belobog’s inevitable fall.

So much so that, with the threat of extinction now vanquished, Gepard feels—off-balanced. Like the beaten earth he’s walked for twenty-odd years had suddenly given away to brittleness, and he’s just now learning how to find his footing again in order not to be swallowed by the gaping abyss, the opaque future ahead. The life he’d yearned for, all those years ago in his youth, as a mere Silvermane private, is finally within his reach and yet further than it has ever been before. Because, for all that annihilation has been averted, what he truly sought was something beyond the confines of honour and duty, an idyllic future that will ever be beyond his means.

But that is neither here nor there.

As always, Gepard wakes with the sun, just as the day’s first threads of light gently spill into your shared room and illuminate the surroundings in a cold morning hue. You’re huddled by his side, as you always seem to do in your sleep, a sight for sore eyes—your hair in disarray, one too many crease marks on your cheek, curled under the heaviest quilt you could manage to have commissioned to combat what, in your opinion, is the coldest time of the year, despite the Eternal Freeze having long since erased any concept of seasonal cycles that might have existed in times long gone. As always, Gepard rises from bed first to prepare for the day ahead, even though it is a rest day for him as much as it is for you. And, as always, Gepard carefully disentangles himself from you, albeit begrudgingly, and tucks you back in into what you’ve once ( good-humouredly, you had hastily assured him ) called a blanket wrap of doom—because, while incredibly comfortable, it is immensely difficult to get out of without aid.

He manages a wry smile at the memory, a fond recollection from the days when you’d first moved in together and were still trying to learn how to manoeuvre around one another in a context far less chaotic than a battlefield, and far less formal than the tall and imposing staterooms of Qlipoth Fort. Now, however, it comes like second nature, as though there had never once been a time where it was anything but. A hand reaches out, delicately, his knuckles gently brushing aside tufts of unruly hair from the space above your brow; in their wake, he leaves the softest of kisses, a daily reminder of his profound affection for you. As always, you stir, but do not wake – and as always, the ghost of a smile faintly curves the corners of your lips, as though, even in deep slumber, you could recognise his touch and his devotion to you at once, even blind.

With a final, lingering, longing glance at your peaceful sleeping expression, he rises from bed at last and begins his preparations.

When he steps out of the sanctuary of your home, dressed in civilian clothes he seldom has the luxury of seeing on himself, it is to the familiar bite of morning frost upon his skin, and to the strange feeling of hoar saturating through the thick layers of clothes and settling deep within his bones. It reminds him of childhood, of a time before uniforms made of heavy cloth and bulky Geomarrow armour began substituting silk and velvet and wool—of a time before he came to find the frigid winds buffeting the Restricted Zone more comforting than the warmth of his childhood home, the silence blanketing the desolate snow plains a better companion than the lingering unease seeping through every corner of the manor in the days immediately following his sister’s estrangement.

Gepard lets out a breath, watches as it condenses white in the cold air and then dissipates under the dusty light of old street lamps. The heavy door behind him closes shut with a final creak, and Gepard ventures forth into the grey morning, feeble sunlight barely beginning to cut through the shroud of vapour with its pillars of light. With a thick stack of papers held securely in his arms, his first destination is, as usual, Qlipoth Fort. The newly appointed Supreme Guardian will surely chastise him for coming in on one of his rare days off, but that is a bridge he will cross once the time comes—for now, he is simply content to amble along the well-worn path from his home towards the city centre with different, less guarded eyes surveying his surroundings.

As the Captain, all he could focus on as he marched down the streets in his uniform, stark blue and white against the muted beiges of the buildings, was how to best preserve the safety of Belobog’s citizens and the fragile peace within. Scarcely did he ever stop to observe the world around him for anything more than a moment, mind and body alike perpetually focused on the next imminent battle and the countless losses that will inevitably follow to pay his surroundings any more heed than necessary—like a man touched by grief and death and tragedy from a much too young age to properly feel any sense of belonging within the confines of the city, an outsider amongst the very people he’d sworn to protect all those years ago.

But as Gepard – as the young child whose father forbade from ever interacting with the common people again, and as the same child who had yearned to hear stories about Belobog’s past even his tutors were ignorant of – he is not constrained by a Captain’s duties, or a Landau’s oath.

As Gepard, there is no invisible boundary he has to take care not to cross, no etiquette he has the obligation to observe. And during the years he’s spent as your Gepard ( flawed, kind, tormented Gepard ), he’s slowly learned there is actually very little he needs to hold back from doing. Whether it be sitting on one of the many benches scattered throughout the city to watch as its inhabitants pass him by, or joining the small group of children crowding around Pela in front of the Everwinter Monument, sharing their eagerness to hear stories about their world, or even simply exchanging a few words with the people he’s always just considered mere civilians before then—little by little, the shadows of his father’s influence that always seemed to claw at his heart had begun to wane, replaced by something softer and warmer, something more understanding, perhaps even forgiving.

Still, old habits are hard to break.

Yet, for your sake, he will try.

By the time he reaches the heart of the Administrative District, the morning brume has already begun to lift, dispersed by the combined effort of sunlight and of the burning heaters coming to life at dawn. He nods in greeting at a handful of Silvermane Guards on morning patrol duty who’ve stopped to salute their captain, and lingers to exchange some pleasantries with more high-ranked ones regarding the focus of future military campaigns, now that the source of the Eternal Freeze has been eradicated. Some of those more familiar with him take the chance to poke fun at him—“Only Captain Gepard would find it in himself to wake up as early as usual on a day off, just to deliver some paperwork!” they jest, and the statement is met by said captain with a helpless smile and a fond shake of his head, which in turn rouses a short bout of hearty laughter from his soldiers. They bid their goodbyes, and Gepard marches on.

As expected, he is met with much of the same sentiment when he steps into Qlipoth Fort, within the confines of the Supreme Guardian’s office. Bronya tears her gaze away from the countless papers littering her desk only for it to fall on more of them in his arms, and when she meets his eyes it’s with a grimace so faint and so swiftly replaced by her usual controlled expression that, if he were any less familiar with her, he would have thought the work of his imagination. Gepard has weathered worse, so he doesn’t let that obvious show of disapproval deter him from approaching her and her workspace.

Bronya sighs, a hand kneading her brow as if preemptively soothing an impending headache. “Captain Gepard…” She begins, taking the stack of paperwork from his hands to quickly glance at it and confirm her suspicions—it is, indeed, the documentation she’s entrusted to you some days prior, which she had made abundantly clear was not urgent and that, at the very least, could have waited until after your day off. “Between the three of us, I have a hard time deciding who is more of a workaholic.”

“We are both merely striving to alleviate your worries, Lady Bronya,” he says, and he retreats a few steps to put some space between them—a respectable distance more fitting for their roles as ruler and subject rather than friends, though it only comes off as incredibly silly with him out of his uniform and her not as domineering and solemn as she is in public. “Some of us more so than others.”

Gepard offers her a wry smile then, recalling your figure from yesternight as you stubbornly toiled through the documents, hunched over the escritoire with only the suffused orange lamplight keeping you company, until way past any reasonable bedtime. The young Supreme Guardian heaves another sigh, but even she cannot hide the slightest upwards turn of her lips at the implications in Gepard’s words.

Bronya arranges the new additions to her workload in a neat pile far away from the chaos that has overtaken her main working space, then wordlessly dismisses Gepard with a pointed stare—one that he knows is a veiled warning not to step into Qlipoth Fort again until tomorrow. Just as wordlessly, he bows slightly and takes his leave, just as he’s done countless times before for a different Guardian, though in far less amicable circumstances, and for his austere father, when he was far younger and far less sure of himself than he is now.

When he steps outside again, it is to a much more bustling city, the streets of the Administrative District gradually growing busier as its inhabitants awaken and breathe life into their surroundings simply by existing. Gepard glances at the sky, makes a note of the sun's position in it—he should still have plenty more time before you awaken from your slumber. It’s still early enough that the bakery across the Goethe Hotel has yet to run out of your favourite pastries, so that will be his first stop on his way home. Then, he recalls you musing to yourself, some days ago, about having to replace the flowers in some of the vases at the entrance, together with some other household necessities you’d both forgotten to replace in light of recent events…

His mental checklist complete, Gepard ventures forth on another mission—only, this time, his final destination is home, back by your side.

You’ve just barely begun stirring from your languor when he shuffles back into your shared space, a steaming mug of your favourite hot beverage in one hand and a fresh change of clothes ( that you’ve forgotten in the drier the night prior, it seems ) in the other. The mattress dips as he settles at its very edge, setting the mug on the nightstand and chuckling quietly at the deep furrow of your brows as you try, in vain, to turn away from the ever-so-offending rays of sunlight shining insistently on your visage, prying you from the cradle of sleep. You groan when that proves unsuccessful, eyes still stubbornly squeezed shut.

“Not feeling like getting up yet?” Comes his question at last, voice laced with fondness and a hint of exasperated amusement. In response, you burrow deeper into the quilt, until nothing discernible is left of you other than messy strands of hair splayed across the pillow and over the comforter.

Gepard indulges you for a handful of heartbeats, but ultimately has to stand his ground. After all, there’s the rapidly cooling mug of your morning kickstarter on one side, and the promise of a rare breakfast together on the other.

“I don’t mind letting you sleep in a little more, but I don’t believe Pela will quite appreciate tardiness,” a pause, soon followed by thoughtful humming. “Besides, you don’t really have the heart to make Serval and Lynx wait out in the cold for us, do you?”

The violent speed at which you attempt to spring up into a sitting position at the mere mention of his sisters’ names would probably greatly concern the average person, but not Gepard. He’s wise enough ( accustomed enough ) to lean out of your trajectory, lest you be rudely forced awake by a headbutt first thing in the morning, and his hands reach out to halt your momentum before the impending wave of dizziness can take over. You fall into his arms, another muffled, miserable groan crawling its way out of your throat.

“Ugh… My head feels like it’s getting split open…”

Gepard’s eyes soften ever so imperceptibly, holding you closer to his chest and rearranging your position so that he can begin unravelling the so-called ‘blanket wrap of doom’ and extricate you from its evil clutches. “Then perhaps you should’ve heeded my words and gone to sleep earlier, instead of powering through the paperwork until late.”

Unfortunately freed from the protection of your beloved quilt, you first squint at the bright light assaulting your poor, defenceless eyes, then, in a fit of bad decision making, straight at the wide windows from whence said light comes, and then you linger at the ornate patterns adorning the ceiling of your bedroom—finally, after you’ve had your fill of your pretence at daydreaming, your gaze falls onto your lover, and it takes all the energy you can muster while being barely awake to keep your offended mien from crumbling away into a teasing smile.

“Excuse me?” You begin, trying to keep your voice as unwavering as you hope your expression is. Gepard simply shakes his head, used to and terribly fond of your antics in equal measure, and he simply, wordlessly hands you your mug. You take it with a thankful smile, a content sigh leaving your lips as just one sip warms you right up, but it soon falls back to the same faux frown as before. You cough in an attempt to recompose yourself, decidedly ignoring Gepard’s ill-contained snort, and intrepidly continue on your improvised spiel under the amused eyes of one Silvermane Captain.

“I don’t think Mr. Captain of the Silvermane Guards, Gepard Landau, who wakes up at dawn even on a day off simply because of habit, is qualified enough to harangue me over work ethics.”

You pin him with a pointed stare, an index finger poking his cheek, but Gepard simply answers by grasping your offending hand and bringing it to his lips for one of his usual fleeting baisemains. He leans into your touch, then, your palm gently cradling the side of his visage you were poking insistently just mere heartbeats earlier, his own hand over yours.

“Alright, you got me,” he sighs in mock defeat, unable to hide the widening smile shattering any pretence of his poor attempt at an apology. You hide your own grin with the aid of your mug, occasionally sipping on the now lukewarm drink, and a giggle escapes you when Gepard presses his lips to your temple. A little guiltily, he doesn’t mention his little morning escapade to hand those very papers to the Supreme Guardian. A little because you’d eventually figure it out either way, and a little because, while he finds your pout unfairly endearing, he adores your smile much more – and he’d much rather deal with the consequences of his omission later in the day than now.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you then, neither in any particular hurry in spite of what Gepard may have tried ( and failed, bless his soul ) to instil in you—after all, while true that you’ve made plans to spend time with the Landau sisters and Pela, it is not until early afternoon that you’ve arranged for everyone to meet. Even in your simultaneously sleep-addled and sleep-deprived state first thing in the morning, you are not so easily deceived, just as Gepard is not so easily swayed once his mind settles on something. Some would call him inflexible, which rings undoubtedly true at times, but you know better. Somehow, someway, you’ve always known him better than he seems to know himself.

You’ve seen him doubt himself and his purpose, seen as his inner conflict made him question all that he knew, all that he stood for. You’ve seen how hard he’s tried to reconcile his father and his older sister in the months immediately following their fallout, despite knowing it would be futile without the people themselves’ willingness to compromise and understand the other. And you’ve seen how, in the face of so much death and desolation and despair in a world besieged by eternal frost, he became, together with the Silvermane Guards he leads, a beacon of hope for the people of Belobog. An impenetrable bulwark, the aegis of salvation.

Presented with a difficult decision, Gepard will always choose to uphold his Oath over all else—to protect, to preserve, even at the cost of his own life. Such is the duty of a Landau. Of an Architect.

But you have never resented him for that, never turned your back to him, instead offering quiet comfort and understanding, a steadfast and reassuring presence on those nights he felt his most vulnerable; your warmth and embrace a most effective remedy to the doubts and thoughts that plague him, even now. And for that, for the solace and peace that you unfailingly instil in him, Gepard could not be more grateful. He never fails to prove it to you, either—throughout your many years together, both as a way to show his love and devotion and as a way to make up for the long weeks he has to spend away from you, deployed on the frontlines, he’s always made sure to repay your thoughtfulness twofold, with attentive gestures to lighten your daily worries and small gifts to lift your spirits. This morning is no different.

“I’ve made a quick trip to your favourite bakery while you were sleeping,” he says, breaking the peaceful silence, and he doesn’t bother suppressing the soft chuckle that escapes him when your eyes flicker back to him with a renewed twinkle in them. “How about we get started on breakfast?”

Your answer comes wordlessly; in a series of fluid motions, you swiftly disentangle your limbs from his and grab hold of your well-loved quilt. Gepard follows suit, familiar with your modus operandi, and steps aside to let you work your magic as you remake the bed in hardly any time at all, making it look effortless. Then, with that done, you turn to him again, offering your empty mug in exchange for the set of clothes still carefully held in his hands. Gepard shakes his head at your antics, but ultimately makes no argument against it.

The barter is done, and you waltz into the washroom to change and freshen up with a spring in your step. And as Gepard’s eyes linger a little bit longer on the spot you were just occupying even after you’ve disappeared behind the heavy mahogany door, a sudden, passing thought gains clarity at the forefront of his mind.

With the threat of the Stellaron gone, there will be many more mornings like this one. Mornings where he doesn’t have to leave you behind, nestled in the safety of the city, with no guarantee that he’ll return alive to see your smile again. Mornings where he rises at dawn not to patrol the city’s outer perimeters for dangers, nor to confirm the statuses of his troops, but to buy your favourite kind of pastries at the bakery near the Goethe Hotel before they sell out, and to replace the flowers in your home with fresh ones he’s bought from the Eversummer Florist on his way back.

Most of all, mornings where he can be there when you wake up, and where he and you can get ready for the day together.

Gepard exhales, a muted sound that seems to reverberate in the now empty bed chambers. With a final glance at his surroundings, running a mental checklist to confirm everything is in order, he begins making his way towards the kitchen at last—mug in hand, and a tender smile brightening his usually stoic façade.

Perhaps, he can finally allow himself to breathe a little easier.

✧ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍.

Immortality breeds indolence.

Indolence breeds stagnation.

And to a long life species, stagnation is no different to oblivion, for it is then that the curse of the mara begins to grow and attach its roots to its victims—an insidious, invisible enemy that even the most technologically advanced weapon devised by the Artisanship Commission is unable to eradicate, and one that even the strongest and wisest of warriors will eventually, inevitably fall prey to.

This, Jing Yuan acknowledges solemnly, was forced to, all those centuries past, as he had to watch, powerless, as his master gradually and wretchedly lost herself to the selfsame madness that took hold of innumerable others before her, transforming them into senseless abominations beyond recognition for whom only verdict, final judgement, and ultimate mercy was ( still is ) and could only be extermination.

A disease that steadily blurs one’s recollections until nothing but anguish remains in their stead, a blood parasite that feeds onto its host’s torment at their lost ego, waning sense of self, and vanishing memories and harnesses it to its whim, until what once was human has been reshaped into a grotesque stumbling simulacrum of life and made vessel of mutiny and delirium and bloodshed. Such is the nature of the mara, and of the gift of immortality that was bestowed upon their forebears by the Plagues Author more than eight millennia past.

Only when confronted with the consequences of their greed do humans finally begin to reflect and repent for their ill-fated shortcomings. And it is only when their selfishness brings about disaster that they at last realise the utter foolishness of their pursuits, and begin to beg for forgiveness to any higher entity that might listen to their wretched pleas. Jing Yuan has lived enough centuries to know this to be true, without any shadow of uncertainty — he has seen it in the eyes of criminals, begging and imploring not out of any genuine apology, but simply regretful they got caught; he’s seen it reflected in the faces of species that have newly attained immortality, their expressions twisted by abject terror as their life is rendered naught with an effortless swing of his blade; and he’s read it, seen it in his own people, in the ancestors that led to the Xianzhou Alliance becoming an entity that exists solely to extirpate the turpitude wrought unto existence by the Abundance.

Jing Yuan is acutely aware of what he must do, of the duty he must fulfil. As a Cloud Knight, as a General, and as the holder of the seat of the Divine Foresight. His is a burden that he alone must shoulder, just as the ones before him did, and as countless others after him will.

Days, months and years blur together in the life of a long-lived species. Mortal existence is like a limpid river flowing incessantly towards its promised estuary, spurred on by the assurance of the eventual end to its long journey – it matters not what manner of debris its currents pick up over the course of its travels, for its waters will ever stay unstained, untempered by the filth of sin. The Xianzhou natives, blinded by the golden fruits of temptation, willingly precluded themselves such peaceful fate and chose, instead, to shatter the absolute laws of the Heavens in their myopic arrogance.

Their descendants are thus paying the price of their forefathers’ error. Through the Three Sufferings, across hostile stellar systems, enduring ruthless civil wars and horrific alien entities alike in an endless pilgrimage of repentance under the salvation wrought to them by the gaze of the Reignbow Arbiter, they have withstood millennia of tribulations to reach a tenuous peace at last. Peace that, in no small part, has been won through the Divine Foresight’s efforts.

Since the day he has taken office, Jing Yuan has spent every waking moment protecting, overseeing, guiding, never resting. Toiling alone in a place unseen by most, he found quiet companionship in books and sound counsel in his starchess board and pieces, playing against fictitious and nebulous opponents far above his calibre—all in order to temper his mind, turn it into a blade with an impossibly sharp edge, just so that he might rout his real opponents long before they can have any chance to become perilous enough to threaten the Alliance. Throughout all that – or rather, despite all that – he’s somehow gained the title of the Dozing General.

Though, he supposes some of the fault does lie in himself, and in his tendency to nod off in public most infamously. As a rebellious child who defied his parents’ wishes for a life as far removed from warfare as sun and moon are, simply out of a juvenile wish to carve out his future with his own hands and through his own means, Jing Yuan has long since gotten used to subverting any and all expectations others may happen to thrust upon him. They may mock him behind closed quarters, but such matters are scarcely ever worth in-depth scrutiny: for the ones lacking are them, and the one tirelessly travailing is him.

Regardless, Jing Yuan has always been of the opinion that if one’s already been affixed with a descriptive epithet, even if not of the particularly flattering sort, then they should at the very least act the part. It only stands to reason, then, that he should live up to the high regard those snide remarks reserve for him. That, and it does him no harm—albeit this harmless mischief of his does earn him your pointed, reproachful, all-withering stare every now and then.

This morning being one such occasion. Uncommon as they are, days where there are no time constraints fettering him to his countless duties and neverending papers set the perfect stage for his silly ploys of make-believe.

Jing Yuan stirs, a soundless yawn slipping past his lips as his eyes blink open with an ease unbefitting someone who’s supposedly only just woken up. His head lolls to the side, towards the world beyond the confines of his home, and his mouth quirks up in a lazy show of self-satisfaction when he’s greeted with blinding sunlight. Outside the wide traditional-style circular window, the artificial sun employed by the Luofu has just reached its zenith, hanging high in the impossibly, and equally as artificial, blue sky. It is but a means of approximate timekeeping, but even the basest of creatures would be unable to mistake the exceedingly late hour.

Unhurried and utterly unbothered, Jing Yuan languidly rearranges his slumber-laden limbs into a more believable sleeping position in anticipation of your arrival, fighting back the amused smile threatening to betray his carefully crafted act at the mere thought of the exasperated furrow of your brows and the unsurprised, but still chagrined, grimace he will surely find on your visage as you slowly come to the realisation that he has yet to rise from bed—at midday, no less. Him, one of the Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Hexafleet, current holder of the Seat of Divine Foresight, someone looked up to by all in the Alliance, sleeping in despite being aware of the hearsay being spread among the Luofu populace. The scandal of it all.

And he knows he doesn’t have to wait too long. He’s gotten quite familiar with your schedule over the decades you’ve been together, after all, and it would be a blemish on his otherwise spotless repute as the Divine Foresight should he be found remiss in his knowledge of his beloved’s day-to-day engagements. He will not allow himself to be judged lacking in anything that may have even the slightest connection to you, even should he regrettably happen to employ that selfsame knowledge for his less than noble, incredibly, facetiously whimsical ends.

Besides, he muses to himself as his face burrows deeper into the pillows, his blanket haphazardly strewn over his legs and half dangling off the bed, you don’t seem to mind it all too much – whether out of a deep-rooted familiarity with his antics or, though much less likely, a genuine enjoyment of them, you never seem to be able to hold onto your annoyance for any longer than the split second it takes for your usually serene expression to morph into one of exasperated scepticism at the sight of a lark successfully executed. Jing Yuan lets out a soft sigh, faint vestiges of your scent still lingering on the fabric of the pillows and enveloping him in your comforting, if a little faded, fragrance, and for a moment he contemplates falling asleep again, just like that; warmed by sunlight, spread out over the traditional-style bed, half of his visage sunk into an assortment of feather-soft pillows and the other obscured by an unruly mane of hair. But the muted sound of approaching footsteps sobers him of his would-have-been somnolence as swiftly as the crackling of thunder would, and he considers whether he should pull the blanket over himself again or just leave it hanging off the bed.

The wooden folding doors open with a resounding slam right there and then, and the decision, though inconsequential, is made for him. Jing Yuan has to suppress the chuckles threatening to spill from his lips at the beat of silence that follows your grand entrance back into your shared chambers; and though he cannot see, he’s sure the emotions flickering through your visage right now are as plentiful as the flowers blooming in the courtyard. Dismay, surely, closely followed by clarity and realisation, and perhaps a bit of irritation at the sight of the disarray he’s single-handedly plunged the bed into since you’ve left earlier in the morning. Then, a heavy sigh, and the padding of clothed feet on the wooden boards as you draw nearer to the bed.

“How quaint,” you say, wry and suspicious and every bit as exasperated as he’d imagined you’d be. “It seems my eyes are playing tricks on me.”

Another pause, this time mercifully filled by the chirping of birds outside the window, and by the distant sounds of starskiffs soaring through the air beyond the confines of his home — of your home. But this lull, too, is short-lived. A hand promptly furls around each of his ankles, firm enough to have a secure grasp over them but not enough to bruise, a thoughtfully casual nature to the touch, and Jing Yuan has enough self-possession to repress a noise that’s equal parts surprised and amused from escaping him as his centre of gravity slowly inches ever forward, towards the far edge of the bed and the gaping void beyond it.

If an outsider were to witness the spectacle currently unfolding in your bedroom – one of its occupants faking sleep, the other forcibly dragging said rascal off the bed – unaware of the close relationship and centuries-long history between the two of you, it might appear as though you were committing a grave slight towards the General, and neither you nor Jing Yuan would be able to hold it against them for thinking so. It is not often ( if ever at all, were it not for a select few people who hardly hesitate to make their highly critical evaluations of his character known ) that he’s treated with such insolence, albeit playful, most of his interactions with others usually punctuated by either admiration, apprehension, or by the ostentatious favour-currying of the heads of the merchant guilds and other Outworlders alike.

An Arbiter-General’s duties and responsibilities are hardly as glamorous as they may first appear to be to the untrained eye, after all. Years blur together in an endless succession of tedium and repetition and acedia; what might have seemed or felt novel at first will slowly but surely morph into normalcy, and what once might have been cause of joy and celebration becomes just another frayed thread in the amaranthine tapestry of an immortal’s life. Likewise, as the Divine Foresight, as a General, and as a soldier—there is not much Jing Yuan has not experienced in his long life. It was the thrill of disobeying his parents at first, when he was still a starry-eyed Cloud Knight-hopeful with nothing but ideals and ambitions and dreams to his name, spurning the beaten path they’d prepared for him as their own parents in turn did theirs, instead seeking honour and glory on battlefields in the most wretched and forgotten reaches of the cosmos, striving to protect the Xianzhou and, in doing so, uphold the will of the Reignbow Arbiter.

Then came the High-Cloud Quintet, and the countless accolades that inevitably follow in the wake of a group of rising heroes—accompanied by the unavoidable terror and hatred and distrust as those very heroes cruelly, eventually, perhaps even prematurely, meet the end of their time at the hands of fate, torn apart at the seams by selfishness and by selflessness, by love and by hate, by life and by death.

Jing Yuan had felt honoured, at the time. To have his strength and accomplishments recognised by the master he’d so admired and from whom he’d learned all he then knew of swordplay and warfare, and to have been granted the chance to fight alongside warriors whose names would be recorded and celebrated in the annals of history for millennia to come—for a fleeting moment in time, he had felt as though his juvenile dreams had taken life, mere fantasy superimposing itself unto reality; like a transient blossom blooming and bedazzling all who’d come near it, so that it may be remembered for its beauty and not for the desolation that followed its withering. An insect leaving its cocoon to live but a minute.

That also had to come to an end, as most things in a long-lived species’ life often do. Such is the price of eternal life—to see with one’s own eyes as Fate spins its neverending loom, to bear witness to the ever-changing fortunes of heroes-turned-sinners, to feel and judge for oneself the evanescent nature of all things, the innate impermanence permeating human existence. And of five people, he alone has remained untouched by strife, observer of vicissitudes and outsider to the depth of the love and anguish that caused them each to turn their blades against the other.

And then, there is you——

“Love, may I suggest some more considerate ways to wake someone up?” He catches himself just mere heartbeats before the back of his head can make direct contact with the lacquered floorboards, one honey-tinted eye blinking open and affixing you with faux stupor and something akin to divertissement, a fond smile finding its way upon his lips. “Surely, even I do not deserve a concussion first thing in the morning.”

You slacken your hold over Jing Yuan’s ankles with a noncommittal shrug and promptly take a step back to allow him some space to gather his bearings, your half-hearted attempt at a rudimentary wake-up tactic foiled just as it was getting to the good part ( not that you’ve ever believed you’d be able to catch the Divine Foresight off-guard, but still – surely, there is nothing wrong with daydreaming of impossible outcomes? ). Your arms crossed over your chest and an unimpressed mien drawing your brows together and pulling your lips into a thin line, you watch as Jing Yuan pulls himself into a sitting position under your pinched gaze, steady and unwavering even as he meets your eyes, with all the casualness in the universe, from underneath silver lashes. He leans forward then, elbow propped up on a knee and cheek resting against his knuckles, his smile widening into an unabashed and adoring grin.

——You, whose mere sight sets his heart alight, even centuries after your fateful meeting.

“I am afraid any other method would have proven unsuccessful, General,” you huff out, half-impassive and not quite convincingly disdainful, with a hint of ill-concealed fondness beneath the bite of your words. “After all, had I tried gently nudging you ‘awake’, as I’ve already attempted several times in the past, you would’ve simply grabbed hold of me, caged me against the bed, and held me in your arms until you finally felt like getting up.”

Jing Yuan’s visible eye closes into a crescent, his brows raised in mock surprise and clearly amused at your impromptu tirade. “And you didn’t like it?”

“It is not a matter of like or dislike, my dear,” you retort, the endearment falling from the tip of your tongue so effortlessly making his heart soar. “It is the timing I have an issue with.”

“So, all I am hearing is that you don’t mind it. Which means I will persist in my endeavour to keep you by my side, preferably sunbathing in bed.”

You squint at him, mouth forming around words of protest before thinking better of it, sparing yourself from the onset of a much worse headache. After all, you’ve come to know quite well that, no matter the rebuttal, Jing Yuan will, without fail, find some way to twist your words into teasing remarks in his favour—and if your time together has taught you anything ( other than confirming your downright awful taste in men ), it’s that silence is the best response when faced with any of his coy utterances.

So, you don’t bother giving him an answer, instead opting to carefully manoeuvre around him and the bed to reach the antique dressing table at the far end of the room. Jing Yuan follows your movements from the corner of his eye, mirthful smile still on his lips, as you busy yourself with the dresser and its many gold-embossed drawers, no doubt looking for his hairbrush and perusing for one of the many silk ribbons you’ve begun collecting for his exclusive use since the day you’d first moved in together. Your back obscures the busy motions of your hands, and he has half the thought of rising from his seat on the floor to aid in your frantic search but, before said musing can fully register in his mind, you whirl around with an endearingly triumphant expression having overwritten your earlier frown.

Jing Yuan blinks at the unfamiliar sight of the delicate piece of fabric. “Is that a new addition?”

“Why, yes,” comes your blithe answer, your feet padding back towards the bed with the hairbrush and the chosen ribbon cradled in your hands, “Yanqing personally helped me pick it the other day as we were running errands.”

Your words are acknowledged with a pensive hum, no further objections made over the ribbon’s cutesy design of stylised, flourishing swords over a plain pastel blue background. It does indeed feel like something Yanqing would pick out over anything and all else. Jing Yuan wonders how his protegé would react if he ever saw his guardian wearing such a silly hair tie—perhaps he should alternate between it and his usual red one, just to see Yanqing’s candid reaction to it. He tucks the thought in the recesses of his mind for further deliberation, already envisioning all the possible ways the scenario could evolve into.

A contented sigh escapes him as soon as your hands find their way into his mane of unruly silver hair, smoothing out any stubborn knots ahead of time so that the brush can glide through it easier after, and tame it enough so that he may look more presentable and dignified like the Divine Foresight, Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu, should, and less like his Wave-Treading Snow Lion Mimi. Because, for as much as Mimi is cute and regal and intimidating, you’re rather sceptical its owner would be received with much of the same sentiment were he to appear in front of his retainers as dishevelled as he looks right out of bed.

Not that you can know for sure, of course – the sample of said retainers you’re drawing your conclusions from is rather limited, after all, and there is a wild variety of personalities and differing interpersonal relations to take into consideration. For all you know, they all would simply turn the other way and pretend they saw nothing.

Still, for your own peace of mind, you cannot help but fuss over him.

“You know,” you begin, voice thoughtful and playful and far away in a senseless musing all at once, your hands going through motions you’ve repeated countless times over the centuries you’ve spent in Jing Yuan’s presence, and him in yours. “Sometimes, I feel more like your caretaker than your lover.”

“Is that so?” Jing Yuan tilts his head back, allowing you an easier angle to gather his hair in his usual half-up, half-down tail, a pensive hum cascading from his lips. “But you don’t hate it, do you? After all, it’s not like I’m forcing you to take care of me.”

And when you reply by gently tugging at his hair in faux indignation, he laughs—a breathless, boyish sound betraying his age, echoing through the room and drowning out birdsong and wind alike, as though there was no one else in the universe but you and him and this quiet, tender moment frozen in time, untainted by the cruelty and sin that ever await him beyond the confines of the sanctuary of your home.

But here, and now, nothing about that matters.

Jing Yuan waits, quiet and obedient, until you’ve secured the ribbon around his hair in a knot that feels neither too tight nor too loose. He knows it’s perfect even without a mirror—he’s trusted you in more treacherous circumstances with far less margins of error to gamble that trust on, after all. And even should this blind faith of his be proven wrong over a clumsily tied tail, he certainly wouldn’t stop trusting you now just because you’ve retired from the limelight of war.

When he turns around, it is to the sight of you. You, your visage limned in golden sunlight, the warmth of your hand as your knuckles ghost over his cheek, the look of fond exasperation you reserve for him, and him only, as he leans in for a chaste kiss, smiling against his lips—you set his heart alight.

As you always have. As you always will.

And no matter how many more years, decades, centuries pass, how many more mornings will begin just like this, how many more times you’ll come to physically drag him out of bed or tie his hair up for him, grumbling about his aggravating habits all the while – simply because it is you, Jing Yuan thinks he’ll never truly get used to it, to your presence, and to your love.

He knows he never will.

#scriptorium.#hsr x reader #gepard landau x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #gepard x reader #jingyuan x reader

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burningvelvet · 7 months

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more rambling thoughts about wuthering heights now that i've finished my re-read

1 wuthering heights is basically the looney tunes if the looney tunes were goth. 90% of the novel is people arguing, dying, and running around threatening to kill each other, and often all three of those at once.

2 love how it's filled with dark humor. "he's such a cobweb, a pinch would annihilate him" is such a camp thing to say about the terminally ill child you abhor and who you spend weeks trying to set up on dates with your dead lover's child so you can steal her property when your son finally dies. heathcliff lecturing his son on Seduction 101 right in front of cathy 2.0, trying ridiculously to play cupid and compel them to fall in love with each other before giving up and just kidnapping her instead... surely he's the most insane brontë man?

3 i can't remember what i had for dinner last night but nelly dean can remember what the weather was like on any given friday twenty years ago (love her and her snarky comments)

4 love how after nelly finishes telling the story to lockwood she's like "any way. so you know cathy 2.0 is single right ;)))" and then cathy 2.0 shows zero interest in him. so then he's like "oh i just remembered i have somewhere to be :/" then fucks off to london for nearly a year then when he comes back nelly is like "nvm as it turns out cathy and hareton are actually soulmates lol who knew! gee, it's a good thing she didn't like you!" and he's just silently suffering. emily was just fucking around here. hindley was the only linton/earnshaw/heathcliff who was wild enough to marry someone who didn't share either his gene pool or his neighborhood.

5 i imagine joseph to look like smeagol from the lotr films but taller

6 [heathcliff, after stabbing his alcoholic arch nemesis and then pushing his servant into the puddle of the blood] "Wash that stuff away; and mind the sparks of your candle—it is more than half brandy!” LMAO

7 this opinion list is just turning out to be a list of the most insane heathcliff moments but truly the novel should've just been called "heathcliff"

8 heathcliff's weird paternal feelings for hareton, saving hareton's life, him saying he would truly love him if only he wasn't hindley's child, basically giving hareton his blessing to love cathy 2.0 toward the end... so oddly endearing

9 heathcliff walking out just before the "i am heathcliff" part of her speech. why WHY

10 hindley protecting isabella from heathcliff before she flees was nice and i wish we saw more of their dynamic around the heights. honestly aside from the child neglect (which is par for the course in wuthering heights) hindley is a pretty sympathetic character; his rivalry with heathcliff was fueled by both sides and truly the fault of their father for pitting them against each other by letting heathcliff usurp hindley's place of favoritism as a boy. hindley's gambling and drinking, his general dissipation and failure to secure his son's future, are all tragic.

11 i think hindley/edgar/heathcliff are all interesting foils for each other; they each lose the women they love and are left to be single fathers, and each responds to the task totally differently. if we include mr. earnshaw, all the fathers in the story essentially fail their children after all the mothers die. hindley and heathcliff have a special parallel through their lifelong brotherly competition, the women they love both dying in childbirth, and in their own deaths. hindley slowly kills himself while ignoring everyone around him; heathcliff also kills himself, but only after trying to systematically ruin the lives of everyone around him. they also say that they want to kill each other but fail when they try; heathcliff nearly kills hindley but ends up saving his life at the last minute.

12 heathcliff jr. is so terrified of heathcliff sr. and so traumatized and petrified by fear and he doesn't deserve the hate he gets for being annoying. he's been sheltered his whole life, his mother just died, he was sent to his uncle/cousin only to be immediately torn away from them to be abused by a stranger who treats him horribly, he's terminally ill, he's still a kid, he's threatened into marrying someone he barely knows, etc.

13 if any of you have seen the british comedy show "the young ones" that's literally hindley's household in wuthering heights when joseph/hareton/hindley/heathcliff/isabella all live together. the filth, the slop for dinner, the petty games, the violence, the fierce hatred yet weird loyalty to each other, etc.

14 i really wonder how cathy would have reacted to heathcliff's treatment of everyone else if only she had known the full details (ie his harsh abuse of isabella, his son, cathy 2.0, etc.)

15 heights was my first brontë novel but i think i like jane eyre and tenant better now that i've read them all back to back! next on the list is likely agnes gray. anne, my underrated queen!

#literature #english literature #wuthering heights #emily brontë #book opinions #bookblr #bronte sisters #heathcliff #books #book thoughts #book review #classic literature #lit #litblr

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hollowed-theory-hall · 1 month

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what's the one harry potter pairing u like that u mentioned in the tags of your hinny post?

Anonymous: Can I ask who that minor character you ship with Harry is? For some absurd reason my mind jumped to Stan Shunpike lol but it's probably not him.... Or is it?

Okay, so this is kind of a funny story. Like, my pipeline through hp pairings was a weird one. Like, I used to read a lot of Harry pairings, still do on occasion (some make more sense than others). None of them were ones I would point at and say: "that should've happened in the books"

One day, I was innocently writing a fic (canon divergence of GoF), and it was just for me, for funnsies, never posted it anywhere and not planning to. And I planned to pair Harry with someone there (honestly, I don't remember who because I didn't write the plan down) but when writing, Harry ended up with a different character. And it was so strange to me because that never happened.

Like, how do you write a ship accidentally?

But I did. I wrote Harry into a ship by accident. So I went back to the books to try and figure out why the hell would my subconscious decide that's the way to go.

I'll also preface it by all this being my subjective opinion and I do read other Harry ships in fics, this one just quickly became my favorite to write (and the only one I write). Also, I don't actually think this is a pairing that should've happened in the books, it's place is in fic and that's where I like it.

So, the character I accidentally shipped with Harry is... *drumroll*

Stan Shunpike!

Not really, it's:

Theodore Nott

Now, you might look at the name and go: "Who the fuck is that?"

And you'll be correct. Theo has 0 speaking lines in the entire book series. His name appears twice. He, himself, as a person, only appeared on page, like, 3 times in the background. The scene that gives the most information about him is other characters talking about him. He isn't even present.

That being said, I'm very good at extrapolating a lot of information from very little evidence. So allow me, to walk you through who is Theodore Nott and why I ship him with Harry.

Basic Information

So, let's start with the most basic overview before I pull out the quotes and go any deeper.

We know Theo is a Slytherin student in Harry's year. So he likely shares a dorm with Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Theo's father is both at the graveyard at the end of GoF and in the Department of Mysteries at the end of OotP, so we know he is a Death Eater. We also know Thoe's father was one of the first and closest Death Eaters to Voldemort, who waited for him during his interview with Dumbledore in 1967:

“Then if I were to go to the Hog’s Head tonight, I would not find a group of them — Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov — awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed...”

(HBP, page 444)

We also know the Nott family is "as pure-blooded as the Malfoys" according to JKR in an interview. We also know Theo's great-grandfather (maybe? the family relation isn't clear), Cantankerus Nott, is suspected to be the one who wrote the Pure-Blood Dictionary, the book that coined the term "Sacred 28" and made that list (which the Nott family are on).

The name Nott is potentially to be derived from the name Nótt, which is the personification of the night in Norse Mythology. So it has been theorized the Nott family have a Nordic origin. Possible, but it doesn't really matter for this post.

What does, is that he comes from a dark, Death Eater, blood-purist family similar to the Malfoys. Even so, Theo never took the Dark Mark and never joined Voldemort in the books.

Now, that we have the basic information out of the way, let's look at Theodore as a person.

All the details I could gather from the books

Alright, now we get to the fun part. That is, me going through all the relevant scenes that mention Theodore Nott and actually creating a character psychoanalysis out of basically nothing.

So, the quotes aren't organized in a particular order. I'm just going to explain Theo and then explain why all this makes me ship him with Harry.

“Well, I pity Slughorn’s taste. Maybe he’s going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn’t heard I’m on the train, or —” “I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,” said Zabini. “He asked me about Nott’s father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.” Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humorless laugh.

(HBP, page 150)

This is a part of the conversation between Draco, Pansy, and Blaise, Harry overhears when he is hiding in their compartment at the beginning of HBP. I have a few things to note regarding this scene.

Firstly, throughout this conversation, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco all call each other by their first name. This shows closeness, they are all friendly and familiar enough to use their first names with each other. Theo, though, is referred to as "Nott" by all three in the compartment.

He doesn't actually sit in their compartment which is in itself a sign about how he isn't really friendly with Draco's group. Considering the group is most of his year from his house, Theo is likely very lonely, and it will be apparent from other scenes I bring up later.

Secondly, Theo's father is in Azkaban. We know Draco is bothered about his own father's predicament. He mentions it to Harry and bothers him over it, Theo doesn't though. Theo doesn't seem to be bothered by Harry or his father's incarceration.

The only conclusion I can draw from this is that the relationship between Theo and his father is not a good one.

(I know some fics like to have Lucius be abusive towards Draco, for some reason. But the books really don't back this up. Lucius loves Draco and Draco adores his father)

Theo, though, Theo seems to be the one with a very strained relationship with his father. Strained enough that he isn't bothered the man is in Azkaban. What I'm saying is that Theo's father likely abuses or mistreats him in some capacity.

If anything more was needed to complete Harry’s happiness, it was Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle’s reactions. He saw them with their heads together later that afternoon in the library, together with a weedy-looking boy Hermione whispered was called Theodore Nott. They looked around at Harry as he browsed the shelves for the book he needed on Partial Vanishment, and Goyle cracked his knuckles threateningly and Malfoy whispered something undoubtedly malevolent to Crabbe. Harry knew perfectly well why they were acting like this: He had named all of their fathers as Death Eaters

(OotP, page 583)

This is a scene at the end of OotP after Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and Theo's fathers were caught at the ministry and sent to Azkaban because they are Death Eaters. There are a few important notes about this scene.

The first, Hermione knows Theo, while Harry and Ron don't really. This means she likely knows him from the classes she takes and Harry and Ron don't — Arithmancy and/or Ancient Runes.

The second, he is sitting with other Death Eater children, but I don't think it's by choice. I mentioned in the previous quote how he isn't close to Draco and his crew. He sits with them here mostly because he doesn't have another choice. Theo doesn't seem to really have any friends, so he sits with the closest people he has to friends — kids he has known since he was young because their fathers were in the same circle.

The other note about this is that Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco are all mentioned as being threatening and malicious towards Harry because they don't like that their fathers are in Azkaban. Theo, though, Theo doesn't threaten Harry, he isn't part of their whisperings. As I mentioned above, he's likely happy his father is in Azkaban.

A pair of blank, white, shining eyes were growing larger through the gloom and a moment later the dragonish face, neck, and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerged from the darkness. It looked around at the class for a few seconds, swishing its long black tail, then bowed its head and began to tear flesh from the dead cow with its pointed fangs. A great wave of relief broke over Harry. Here at last was proof that he had not imagined these creatures, that they were real: Hagrid knew about them too. He looked eagerly at Ron, but Ron was still staring around into the trees and after a few seconds he whispered, “Why doesn’t Hagrid call again?” Most of the rest of the class were wearing expressions as confused and nervously expectant as Ron’s and were still gazing everywhere but at the horse standing feet from them. There were only two other people who seemed to be able to see them: a stringy Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle was watching the horse eating with an expression of great distaste on his face, and Neville, whose eyes were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.

(OotP, page 445)

“The only people who can see thestrals,” she said, “are people who have seen death.”

(OotP, page 446)

The stringy Slytherin boy mentioned here is Theo. This scene proves that:

He takes Care of Magical Creatures

He saw someone die

Let's explore the second one for a moment. The fact Theo can see Thestrals means he watched someone die and was old enough to comprehend what he was seeing. We also know Theo's mother is dead. So it's likely the person he watched die was his mother.

I also want to draw attention to Theo's distaste towards Thestrals. He could likely see them carrying the carriages every year since 2nd year, it's not his first time seeing them. But it doesn't stop his displeasure with their sight from showing. Which says something about him. It means he likely recalls his mother and her death whenever he looks at the Thestrals. and these are memories Theo rather not experience.

We don't know how his mother died, but I'd hazard a guess it wasn't natural. After all, wizards have long life spans, they are more durable to illness and injury, and don't usually die from accidents unless very extreme or magical. And there was no epidemic of dragonpox (a disease that does tend to kill wizards) in the time since 1980 and the books. So, she was more likely killed at some point between 1985(ish) and 1991.

“No, I don’t think so, sir. I’m Muggle-born, you see.” Harry saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered, but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.

(HBP, pages 185-186)

First, Theo is an O student in potions since he is in the potions NEWT class, and was probably meant to be there even if Snape was the teacher.

Second, again, Theo doesn't really have friends. He sits next to Draco as the only other Slytherin in the class. Also, they share the circumstances of being sons of Death Eaters currently in Azkaban. Although both of them seem to deal with it quite differently.

Third, Theo joins Draco in making fun of Hermione's blood status, but he does not initiate it. Considering the environment he was raised in and is in, it makes sense he would make fun of it. Whether he's a blood-purist or not, he would want to keep his image considering he doesn't have many allies. Hanging out with Draco is survival, not friendship. They aren't even on a first-name basis with each other.

“Amortentia doesn’t really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room — oh yes,” he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking skeptically. “When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. . . .

(HBP, page 186)

The final quote I have about Theo is from the same potions class as above. Both he and Draco are portrayed here as underestimating amortentia and its potential damage. It makes sense for their upbringing in the Wizarding World, which has no real laws or regulations regarding love potions that are seen as harmless fun more often than not.

I'll add Theo likely didn't witness a healthy romantic relationship. Considering his father is a Death Eater who is likely abusive and may or may not have killed his mother. With this as his reference to a marriage, it's clear why he'd look down on love and love potions.

Why I think Theo and Harry have potential

Okay, so now that we know who Theodore Nott is, let's talk about why I ship him with Harry.

I think Harry, in general, would get along best with a clever partner with the ability to be ruthless (Slytherins or Ron fall into this category). Because Harry isn't some golden savior; he casts unforgivables, and is very willing to poison Umbridge or Crocio Snape if he could get away with it. He needs a partner that won't be horrified by these thoughts.

Also, Theo literally never speaks on page. Even when spoken to, his reactions are silent. I think this quiet and no need to talk, the ability to be comfortable in silence, is something that would be comfortable for Harry. Harry in the books finds himself annoyed with Ron and Hermione's constant banter on occasion, so I think it fits well.

Theo would also be comfortable around Harry without a need to play a certain part. Because Harry wouldn't care about that. He would honestly rather Theo forgo the pure-blood Slytherin act.

I feel like Harry and Theo, have a good potential to understand each other. Theo lost his mother and likely experiences abuse from his father. It makes them very likely to trauma bond over their crap life and shared experience. Two out of three only ones who could see the Thestrals in the entire class.

The other thing I feel they could connect over is being lonely. Harry spent all his childhood until Hogwarts basically being on his own. Theo stayed on his own. Draco at least has his parents, he has other students he's closer to, not that he shares everything with them, but he has some support network. Theo has none. And this is something Harry knows well.

Theo, I think, wouldn't expect anything specific from Harry. He doesn't even interact with him, not to mock him, and not to idolize him, he doesn't care at all. And we know how much Harry appreciates being thought of as Harry and not as the Boy-Who-Lived. Theo would allow Harry to be himself without some mold he wants him to fit in.

The fact Theo never becomes a Death Eater, even though he was in Draco's year and his father was a Death Eater before Lucius (and in better standing than Lucius with Voldemort) is so interesting. It's somewhat surprising Theo wasn't marked. It means he didn't want to be. It means that Theo Nott didn't want to torture and kill muggleborns or blood traitors, or anyone really. And he didn't want to swear his allegiance to Voldemort. This is just a fascinating fact to me and something I enjoy considering. What life experience made him come to that conclusion? Was it just his dislike of his father that pushed him away? Could he have been another Sirius Black (Gryffindor in a Slytherin family) under slightly different circumstances? I mean, Voldemort likely wouldn't force him to become a Death Eater, but would his father? I don't know what at all went down there, but I like that potential story.

We also know he wasn't part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, even though some minor Slytherins were mentioned to be part of it. He just seems to be an actually decent guy (I don't care what Cursed Child says about him, I know he's there but I avoided almost anything to do with Cursed Child so I barely know the plot).

Finally, this is a character Harry doesn't have as much drama to get over with. Yes, sometimes I want to read overcoming drama between characters before it becomes a romance, but sometimes I want something chiller than that. And Theo is a really chill, safe, Slytherin option for Harry.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #hollowedtheory #hollowedheadcanon #hp #hp thoughts #harry james potter #asks #anon asks #anonymous #theodore nott #theo nott #nottpott

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stnaf-vn · 1 year

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Hello! I just finished playing Friend and it was a very good experience, I wish a could erase my memory and play it again lol I wanted to know if you had share Friend's backstory or past, if so, I'm interested in knowing about him and the other characters in your blog so please tell me where I can read it🙏🏻😩 I'm currently playing A Cry for Help and I look forward to your next project <3

I have! Back before I like knew how tumblr worked, so the comics and stuff I made may have gotten lost....

I'll make a short list here and add them to the FAQ!

TW: CHILD ABUSE, MANIPULATION, FAMILIAL DEATH, DRUG AND ALCOHOL USAGE

Just A Dream

Friend going to Therapy? Friend....crying? High School Friend Friend comes from a wealthy family Friend's Sexuality Friend wears makeup And feminine clothes How Far Would He Go to Have You? Keagan's Opinion on Friend Keagan Talking about....that night.... Aftermath: The 'Accident' Friend's Side of the Story Friend Falling out of Love?

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I'm gonna make a small recap of what Friend's childhood was like behind closed doors, as well as what the 'accident' mentioned before was....

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Friend's Childhood:

Friend grew up in a wealthy home. His mother was a strict and shrewd woman, and his father was also strict. They were both very serious people. Friend's mother wanted to have an heir for the family company that they inherited through their parents (Friend's grandparents). They birthed Friend, and they decided that they wanted to wait to give him a name until they can see what he is capable of, so he didn't receive his birth name until he was old enough to read and write. Because of their lineage of inventors and businessmen and women, Friend's parents expected him to be good at everything he touches as soon as possible. But he wasn't. And so, he was practically cast out of the family. He'd get hit often if he messed up and his mother was very homophobic and hated how "girly" he'd act when he sewed or sung or get in her makeup. Then, he met you. Elementary School. He uh....he was pretty rude to you as kids, and he'd always get annoyed when you'd call out to him.... but, he liked the name Friend. So, he wanted you to just call him Friend. He slowly started getting used to you being around, and he even started being nicer. Although....he was covered in bandages a lot.

His mother thought of him as nothing but a disgrace, so she birthed his sisters: the triplets. After that, his mother gave up on having children as they are "wastes of space" and "can't do anything right." So, she neglected them. Their father, even though he was also pretty stoic himself, was frightened of his wife. Friend practically raised his sisters from elementary to when he was just going into middle school. Which is when the first accident of STNAF happened.... His entire immediate family died in a car crash on their way to a corporate meeting. All Friend has left of them is the amount of wealth given to him and the hair clips his sisters wore. He moved in with his grandparents after that.

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Accident Two: Electric Boogaloo

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In high school, you and Friend were always together 24/7. At the time, he didn't realize he had feelings for you and he was just an average delinquent. His grandparents, although they are nice people, never really got involved in raising him. They just let him do what he wanted. If it wasn't for you, Friend would have probably not passed high school. And there, you met Keagan, an athlete of the school. One day, he suddenly asked you out, and you said yes. Keagan didn't like Friend very much due to the weird "serial killer" aura he gave out (in Keagan's terms), and you and Friend eventually started drifting apart. One night, Keagan started taking you and his friends home. You were the only sober one in the car. And his friend and Keagan thought it'd be funny if they left you in the middle of town, at like 3 AM. So, that's what they did. They drove off without you, leaving you stranded. As this was happening, Friend was also high at a different party. He started getting annoyed because other people kept hitting on him, so he went outside and was desperately wanting you to talk to him Then he got a message from you with your location in it. And he high tailed it to you. (This is where Aftermath: The 'Accident' comes in) That's where the...obsession started. At first, he wasn't sure what to call it. He never felt something like this before, but now.... he just can't imagine his life without you in it. And having you away from him for so long....what if you leave him again? But, he knew what it was when you two graduated and you asked him what his plans are for after high school. He wanted to be with you everywhere you go, do everything you wanted to do together. So, he cleaned himself up, cut his hair, cut back on the weed and alcohol (Although he does indulge from time to time). And, he started studying on how to be the perfect partner. He has mastered every domestic skill needed to have a happy fulfilling relationship. He started working out, and he started actually paying attention to his appearance. He has, and still is, learning how to be the best partner for you. How to be patient, how to make your heart skip a beat, how to be confident but not too confident..... he wants to be perfect for you.

#jesus i didn't realize how much lore I've written over a year--#💾- see thru need a friend game #✨-friend #💔 keagan the tsundere #♡-stnaf lore

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ultimateshixiongfuckertournament · 15 days

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Round 2, Match 4: Jiang Cheng vs Yoshikazu Miyano

Match 4 is between Jiang Cheng (shixiong: Wei Wuxian) from Mo Dao Zu Shi vs Yoshikazu Miyano (shixiong: Shuumei Sasaki) from Sasaki to Miyano

Propaganda under the cut (Miyano's propaganda is going first due to how long the Jiang Cheng propaganda got)

Yoshikazu Miyano:

A fudanshi who bonds with his senpai over BL. Sasaski actually fell for and confessed to Miyano first but Miyano is took his confession very seriously and made sure to sort his own feelings out before giving a proper response (which took like a year lol) beause he didn't want to be careless with Sasaki's feelings.

Jiang Cheng:

Clinged to WWX constantly for 7+ years, wanted to have WWX as his right hand man forever after becoming sect leader, cried after WWX left, cried when he discovered what WWX sacrificed for him, was TORN APART when it got explained to him that if they were more outwardly close knit, WWX might not have died

PROPAGANDA!! to start, i'm still very bitter about how fairy lost the sentient animal poll and i want to win this badly. very very badly. current stats are 50.6 in favour of jc but that's too less of a gap for me. jc should be winning this by a landslide, y'all hear me? anyways. starting with a class act, like the clown i am->

a few links ( because i'm chengxian trash, as always and i'd love if poll-guy could copy paste them on the og post): one, two, three, four (gif), five, six, seven (gif), eight (thoughts on different wavelengths), the absolute circles of them saving each other, the fucking golden core reveal scene. golden scene reveal part 2, jiang cheng will always forgive wei wuxian

to start with. jiang cheng is literally the picture of "i knew from the moment i met you that i'd spend a lifetime forgiving you".

the earliest dynamic of jiang cheng and wei wuxian is jiang cheng giving away his dogs (the only gift his father has ever given him, btw) because wei wuxian is scared of the dogs. tis only the start of it.

his father very obviously prefers his shixiong over him, his mother berates him for not being as good as wei wuxian and tells him his inheritance is in danger, and his sister (in my opinion) has more care for him (visibly. maybe jiang yanli doesn't show it because jc is an emotionally complicated purple grape, maybe because jc doesn't need it, or wei wuxian is traumatised but that's my opinion). but still. still. Jiang Cheng loves Wei Wuxian. so much. jealousy is like. the most tame response i can think of. and jiang cheng is proud of wei wuxian, okay? he'd believe his big brother if he'd said anything. want proof? well, here you go-> link

to paraphrase the link:

Jiang Cheng had just lost his family, his home, and his very golden core, and his older brother - his brilliant older brother who could fix anything, who could sneak wine into Cloud Recesses and defeat an ancient turtle nearly-god and make Jiang Cheng share a smile when Jiang Cheng’s mother was disappointed and furious at both of them - His big brother smiled and said, “I can fix this.”And Jiang Cheng believed him then, and believed him three months later when Wei Wuxian crawled out of the Burial Mounds (just the second miracle in three months), and believed him every day of the next seventeen(?) years until the pieces were shoved into place for him to see.

also. the circle these two go in protecting each other. (gif set by @sandushengshou), the 'if one of us is to die, then, i beg, let it be me' that they both do for one another in a seemingly neverending loop of sacrifice. via this post a la my lovely @backtoyunmeng

jiang cheng is a cannonically ruined woman archetype, justified via the countless posts you'll get in the top posts of jiang cheng tag. he keeps chenqing, wwx's flute in perfect condition even when he hates wei wuxian, even when wwx, if only indirectly, has a part in jiang yanli's murder and oof okay someone pointed out to him that he's known to have killed wei wuxian and he almost cries. he absolutely believes, with his whole heart, that wei wuxian lives even when the world is sure he doesnt. and it always read to me like, i'd know if he was dead. he's a part of my soul, so i'd know if he was dead. he can't be dead.

this is getting too long, so, to sum up, some absolute poetry by @jiangchengsjawline

#JC On The Other Hand Has His Entire Life Shaped By His Shixiong And Ended Up Cast As The Ruined Woman By The End

#jiang cheng though. wasn't able to fuck his shixiong but his shixiong definitely fucked with him

#hello?? the answer is Jiang cheng pls#he's the shixiongfucker or all shixiong fucker you wish you could be as pathetically in love with your shixiong as he is#chengxian

#i do not go here (chengxian) but the propaganda is incredibly correct they are insane abt each other#also sorry jiang cheng ik you're suffering but they are so funny to me#neway VOTE JIANG CHENG FOR CLEAR SKIN

#look I rarely go here#(here being chengxian)#but by GOD their lvoe compels me#they’re tragic and doomed and they love each other without knowing how to say it in words the other would understand#or in words at all because communication??? we don’t know her???

he didn't even think about sacrificing himself, and consequently his entire bloodline, his sect, pretty much everything that depends on him for his shixiong??????????

is this not convincing->

#had to vote jc though i have more feelings about chengxian#i think jc should have a huge gege kink

#like. jiang cheng should win the entire tournament hands down period

#yoshikazu miyano #sasaki shuumei #sasaki to miyano #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #chengxian #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #the untamed

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emojellyace08 · 9 months

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Lookism Men x Female Reader "Their types on a woman PART 5"

I just realized I haven't made a Jace and Jerry one for this (sorry xD). This one will be probably shorter since I want to insert 4 characters at a time in posts (I hate text limits lol). Genre: Fluff☁️ smut/lemon🍋, slight crack🧨(comedy) Warnings: slang terms of female genitalia/body parts (tits, ass, etc.), slight mentions of sex on the bottom parts, trust issues, insecurities

Jerry Kwon (Kwon Ji Tae)

Unpopular opinion: He deserves more love and support from the fandom. Just look at him he's just too cute man.

Anyways, we all know that behind his tough shell Jerry is actually a fluff ball. So it's no problem socializing and befriending him out of pure kindness. He's super nice to everybody trust me (except from his enemies of course).

Like most of the boys, Jerry likes kind and humble women. He's also attracted to very short ones since he founds them really cute especially if they're the same age as him. He's the type to give you piggy backs when you're legs hurt from walking 🥺. He'll also the type to be protective and he'll always walk you to home after school too.

He would also appreciate your friendly personality especially when you don't judge him by his looks. Most people were pretty scared of him since he doesn't look like a "normal student" or the others often mistaken him as a father lol. He still can't help but to be a bit insecure sometimes but he just brushes these things off making him more a bit confident about himself. So being a warm goofball, being loyal and honest to him can really catch his attention and you can form a special bond with him.

Headcannon: Like Eli, Jerry also likes women who can be helpful in the kitchen/household chores. Because of the Workers always creating trouble, it's hard for him to relax and rest so cooking his comfort food for him makes him happy. He'll also bake with you if he has the free time!

And Jerry also likes a woman who's not only kind to others but also very gentle with animals. He'll also share you pictures of little pups and kittens he saw on the street and he'll feel a bit bad when you scold him since you're worried that the stray animal will bite him lol (but he knows that you're just worried about him so he's not really pissed off at you and he always reassure you that he's careful when approaching stray animals). "Look Y/N I saw this poor kitten on the street let's take care of it!" your bf exclaimed as he carries an orange/ginger cat wrapped on a soft towel. "Jerry, are you sure? Doesn't that bite your hand? It's probably infected." you scolded him as he has that puppy eyes again which will work on you again, bastard. "Can we keep it? Please?" he pleaded as you sighed knowing that you can't stop him from adopting the animal. Besides the it looks pretty cute too. "Okay fine, give him to me" you smiled at him as his eyes sparkled even more. "I think the kitten's a girl! Let's name her Ginger!" "Ginger? That's a really nice name."

Jerry will also pair up with you in music class if you can play a musical instrument or if you have a decent singing voice if you don't mind. He can't help but stare at you when you're focused in singing or playing your instrument of choice, he finds it really cool! (Now imagine a Lookism Musical/Band AU that would be lit).

This mochi looking guy is super gentle with you which facades his tough persona when he's out to protect Jake, Big Deal and especially his sweet, kind and polite girlfriend of course. He's also warm and cuddly like a teddy bear so there's no problem with hugging him! (He'll often ask for permission if he can hug you. Respect).

Jace Park (Park Bum Jae)

Another one who's underrated af. Like I want to give this man a hug (and also child support).

To be honest he's not the type to look out or approach women. Heck, he'll be the type to say that he would rather die than stay on the Earth with only one girl who he doesn't even know. But we all know that he's a hopeless romantic deep inside. So his chances with getting a girlfriend can be pretty low (it's just his self esteem getting in the way).

But he can't help but to stay at a woman's side when she's nice, gentle, smart and fun to hang out. He can really relate and look up to a girl who seems to be relatable. You can form a special relationship with him if you're the type to read books or if you're the type to be chatty with new interesting ideas and theories with entertaining topics. With these traits like this you can easily get Jace's attention. But after that incident when the girl he was crushing on was actually a spy, his trauma just got worse.

Headcannon: He has trust issues to almost everybody. The only ones he has faith in was no other than Vasco and Burn Knuckles since he has devoted his heart on his gang that he can consider a loving family now (also Allied but not too much he's just helping them out for business). So what's the most important fundamental on a woman for him is that having a trust-worthy girlfriend. It just warms him up more and made him willing to socialize with others. It will take a lot of times to actually approach him since he's already being cautious. But knowing that Jace is smart and it's just his feelings getting in the ways sometimes, he might start talking to you.

And we all know that he's been bullied, used and hurt a bunch of times. And not wanting to appear as vulnerable and weak, he often has to put on this tough persona. But having a girlfriend whom he can trust and who will actually listen to his problems/attentive/good listener can make his stress less worse. And of course, if he really loves and appreciates you a lot he's willing to listen to your problems too and give the best advices that he can give.

He's also insecure about his ears. So having a someone who's standards in looks are not too high can boosts his confidence. He really likes it when you play with his ears despite him denying it. He doesn't like other people touching him but if it's massages coming from his someone I'm pretty sure he can't resist it. He loves your soft hands but it just depends on his mood honestly. If he's working/studying it can be a bit annoying if you start being clingy but he can't control himself from cuddling with you either. "Wow, Jace your ears are so soft like marshmallows." you fondled with your "best friend's" ears as he is reading a book. "Y/N... I'm doing something important." he groans as you won't stop playing with his ear lobes, but it honestly feels good. "You've been reading your silly book for 2 hours now." you pouted as he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "Hey, first this book is not silly at it actually has a good plot. And second, you've been waiting for me to finish this when it will take 2 more ho-" his sentence was cut off when you gave a peck on his cheek. His inner self was screaming internally like a firecracker wanting to explode. "C'mon now silly let's go to dinner. There's a new SamG place on the street!" you exclaimed as you held his hand almost making him stumble. You can see the redness on his face reaching to his ears.

Breaking his trust can be a huge problem in your relationship. So please be honest with him.

Vin Jin (Vin Ho Bin)

I hate him at first for bullying Duke but I kin him so much lol.

Unpopular opinion: I think Vin would like women who are up to his standards. If you have a pretty face, cool vibes, nice ass and big tits he'll be chasing after you lol. He's also pretty toxic especially if it's the start of the Lookism series. He let his anger take over him so he really needs someone who's emotionally strong, mature and understanding.

He also really hates whiny girls (the ones who tries to act cute but ends up being cringy lol). There's times that he may get turned on by this but if a woman act like this most of the times he'll get agitated. So just be yourself.

Vin also likes women who share his humor. Like if you're the type to make sex jokes or dark humor a lot (y'know the memes that you can watch on Youtube), he'll definitely be more relaxed and composed around you.

He also likes stubborn and competitive women (especially the ones who's shorter than him who acts so tough lol). He really gets entertained if you started challenging him about stupid things. "VIN JIN! LET'S ARM WRESTLE AGAIN!" you challenged the raven-haired male who's wearing that silly dark shade googles again making him make a smug. "Bitch, I already won stop being an ass." he smirked at you, finding it cute when you pout at his statement. "Huh, you just cheated again dumbass!" you screeched at him while he makes a mocking expression. "Hah? And so what you gonna do about it?" "Can you both shut the fuck up?" Mary scolded the both of you because of the teacher already coming to your classroom (slay queen).

But after getting through some character development (slowly but surely), I think Vin would realize that what he really needs is an understanding woman who's also a good listener. We all know he's insecure about having his pupil hyperplasia. He'll started softening up if he has a "girl friend" who will not make fun about his eye disease.

He also really likes women who can be easily teased. Especially when you deny that you really like him even when you act like an asshole to him lmao. "C'mon Y/N I know you find me hot. Just ask me out on a date already." he smirk as he can see the blush on your cheeks getting darker. "F-FUCK OFF WILL YOU! I DON'T HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU!" "But Mary said that you li-" you hit his arms a bunch of times as he let out a guffaw at your reaction. "AND YOU BELIEVED HER?! YOU REALLY ARE A DUMBASS!"

If he's an ass, he needs someone who's both mentally stable and unstable. It's the perfect balance of destruction.

#lookism x reader #lookism x y/n #lookism x you #vin jin x reader #lookism fic #jace x reader #jerry kwon x reader

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orqheuss · 10 months

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☆*: .｡.Wand headcanons.｡.:*☆

Warning: long post! Deep discussion of characters and their personalities ahead

I have been thinking extensively about Ominis and Sebastian's wands and which would suit them the best since they are currently unknown in canon.

As we know from Harry Potter lore, wand cores and woods have the most sway in how not only the wand itself would behave, but also what kind of person the wand owner is and how they will use it. With that being said, we know the personalities of the boy's quite intimately, but we know absolutely no information about their wands besides what they look like, and even then in some scenes they look vastly different.

For this research I used stills from the game when we get close ups of their wands, as well as the Harry Potter Wiki, the Wizarding World website, and a funky weebly website that someone made for a class all about wandlore (I know, not really a reputable source, but it has a but ton of information that can be backed up via the other websites I mentioned) to gather my research.

This was all just a late night info spiral that the ominis discord server helped me with, lol (message @finalgirllx if you would like to join! we have fun)

I am by no means saying my word is law or that you can't have your own opinions. This is just what I think fits them best. I do not own the characters or the Hogwarts Legacy game.

I tried to keep this as spoiler free as possible. No huge plot spoilers are shared.

Now with the formalities out of the way, let's dive in.

We'll start with Ominis, because he has, arguably, the most interesting wand.

My headcanon: Horned Serpent horn core, blackthorn wood, 10 3/4 inches, brittle flexibility

I'm going to go section by section and explain my reasonings. First, the core.

Horned Serpent horn core: While a very, very rare core, it is an exceedingly powerful one that leans towards not only the ties it has to Ominis' family name but also his strengths and weaknesses.

There has only been two wands created with a Horned Serpent horn core in Harry Potter lore, and they belonged to the adopted sons of Isolt Sayre, the founder of Ilvermorny, or the North American school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

According to the lore, Isolt is a direct descendant of Morrigan, a famous Irish witch, and Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders of Hogwarts, thus making her of Gaunt heritage. Her parents were murdered when she was young by her aunt, Gormlaith Gaunt, whom was unhappy with her sister's muggle-helping ways. Gormlaith then kidnapped the girl and kept her captive for a number of years before Isolt was able to escape and flee to America on the Mayflower. There she befriended a Horned Serpent, and when her adopted son's were of age she had their wands fashioned with a sliver of the horn from her serpent friend.

So, why does this core fit Ominis?

As I said, it's properties directly line up with what we know about Ominis' wand in the game. Sebastian states that it is "almost sentient" and is able to help him navigate around the castle and the outside world with little problem. This fits the Horned Serpent horn because, according to the Harry Potter wiki, "[t]his core was exceptionally powerful, sensitive to Parseltongue and vibrated when Parseltongue was being spoken, and could warn their owners of danger by emitting a low musical tone." Because of Ominis' blindness, he likely has exceedingly strong hearing, thus making the low musical tone of the Horned Serpent horn a likely culprit for his wand's echolocation abilities. Not only would this wand core run in the Gaunt family, but it would also connect to Ominis' ability to speak Parseltongue.

As a side note, Salazar Slytherin had a basilisk horn core in his wand and is said to have passed it down when he died, so it would stay in the Gaunt family. Having a core so similar to Slytherin's, and most likely Ominis' father because he would be the next in line to get the wand, would please his family greatly.

Blackthorn wood: As we can see in the game and in the reference picture, Ominis' wand is a dark grey, nearly black color. This in itself narrows down what possible wood it is, as there isn't many dark wand woods known in the lore.

Below is an image of blackthorn branches.

The coloring matches, but what about their personality?

According to the Wizarding World website, this is the description of blackthorn wood:

Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practises the Dark Arts (although it is undeniable that those who do so will enjoy the blackthorn wand’s prodigious power); one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban. It is a curious feature of the blackthorn bush, which sports wicked thorns, that it produces its sweetest berries after the hardest frosts, and the wands made from this wood appear to need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. Given this condition, the blackthorn wand will become as loyal and faithful a servant as one could wish.

This fits with one of the first things we find out about Ominis and his personality-- he starts off as standoff-ish, brash, and, for a lack of a better word, "thorny." After getting to know him in the game, though, we find out that his harshness is just a defense mechanism due to his past and his protectiveness of his friends. Thus, the berry analogy. He himself goes through an incredible "danger or hardship" at the hands of his family, making the blackthorn tree a kindred spirit for him.

Unfortunately wand length and flexibility don't make much of a difference in wands, but there is still a little bit of information about them. I'm basing most of this information (the wand length at least) on fanon decided lore.

10 3/4 inches: Wand length is primarily based on the height and stature of the wizard. In very rare cases, witches and wizards of incredibly sour dispositions will get small, stubby wands (6 inches or below) but that doesn't fit in this situation. According to the Harry Potter Wiki, nine to ten inch wands are "[v]ery standard, and very formal," and "[t]ypically, wizards of average height (5' 6" - 6' 0") will have wands in this size range." Since most of the fandom agrees that Ominis would be around the 6'0", 6'1" range, this would fit his build. I added the 3/4 just to be a bit spicy.

Brittle flexibility: Because neither website really has information about the flexibility of wands, this is taken mostly from the weebly page on wandlore. According to the Wizarding World website, "[w]and flexibility or rigidity denotes the degree of adaptability and willingness to change possessed by the wand-and-owner pair[.]" I have also heard that it is based again on the witch or wizard's personality, so I used both instances here.

Basically, the more flexible the wand, the more flexible the witch or wizard would be in stressful situations, but also the more likely your wand would be to accept a new owner if it were to be won in a duel.

Brittle fits Ominis the best because of it's description on the wandlore class website:

A wand with this flexibility tends to attach itself quickest to owners who have insecurities, and its level of loyalty is often dependent on how loyal the owner is to it. Should it become very loyal to its original owner, new owners often won't get the chance to earn the wand's loyalty before it breaks. Brittle wands are best suited to subtle and delicate magic, such as transfiguration and non-verbal spell-casting. Because they break easy, their owners should be careful to avoid magic that is unnecessarily flashy or explosive, especially if the wand also has a dragon heartstring core. Owners with this wand flexibility are usually contemplative, clever, and somewhat cynical; they tend to be an "underdog" type of person and perhaps even a little bit unlucky, which could lead them to becoming resentful of their more successful peers. If a brittle wand owner perseveres and manages to get over their insecurities, however, he or she will often become a "great success story" that never ceases to amaze and inspire others.

There are points in the argument both for and against Ominis' insecurities controlling his personality, but this particular wand flexibility fits both extremes well. If he leans more on the insecure side, the wand would attach itself quite quickly to him and would remain loyal as long as he was loyal to it, which is a given since he needs it to navigate the world. Ominis was likely a closed off and insecure child when he was young, so it would fit that a brittle wand would attach itself to him quickly. In the game, we see Ominis is careful and sure with his wand work, so I don't think the brittle nature of the wand would come into play, especially with his and Sebastian's love for confringo.

The main thing that connects this flexibility to Ominis is the description of the owners personality, stating that they would be "contemplative, clever, and somewhat cynical" even an "underdog" type. Ominis is the definition of these three terms, and it can be argued that because of the biases surrounding his last name, as well as his disability, he could be considered an "underdog." Ominis is contemplative in most of his dialogue, wanting to see all sides of an argument before making a decision one way or another. He is incredibly clever, often twisting arguments in his favor and throwing words back at the person debating him. As for cynical, there just isn't a better word for how he treats the MC when he passes them around the castle. Every single one of his voice lines is some thinly veiled insult.

Next, let's explore Sebastian's wand-- easily one of the most identifiable wands in the game.

My headcanon: Dragon heartstring core, yew wood, 9 1/2 inches, unyielding flexibility

Same process as Ominis' wand. Here we go!

Dragon heartstring core: In medical science, "heartstrings" refer to the chordae tendineae of the heart, which connect the papillary muscles to the tricuspid and mitral valves so they can open and close as the heart pumps blood between atrial and ventricular chambers (I had to research this lmao, I am not a science person). It's possible that this is where they get the core from in a dragon, but there isn't enough information about dragon anatomy in canon lore to be sure.

Wand cores are connected to the strength of a witch or wizard's magic, as well as the type of magic that they are more likely to lean towards and the type of magic that the wand will be adept with.

Dragon heartstring is one of the three "supreme cores" that are sold in Olivanders. The description of the wand core on the Harry Potter Wiki is as follows:

Dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most magical power, and which [are] capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tended to learn more quickly than other types. While they could change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bonded strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tended to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it would not incline that way of its own accord. It was also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

Don't be swayed, I did not just pick this because of its proclivity towards dark magic. Yes, Sebastian is the one that teaches the MC the unforgivable curses, but this in itself matches the personality traits he exhibits from the very beginning: confidence (to the point of arrogance at times), and loyalty. Sebastian himself states that he leans more towards "fiery forms of magic" after he teaches you the blasting curse, so it would make sense that his wand core would need to be able to handle this kind of spell work. One that is "flamboyant" and "temperamental" would fit this the best. Not only this, but before the MC arrives at Hogwarts, Sebastian was the best duelist there, so he would need a wand core that picked up magic quick and was able to keep up with his competitive nature.

Yew wood: Yes, another thing that leans towards dark magic, but hear me out. Sebastian's wand color is very light, making the options for the possible wood types he would have just as sparse as Ominis'.

Wand woods are connected to the owners personality, diving down past the surface level and often discovering the most innate personality traits of the witch or wizard that owns it.

Below is an image of yew wood.

At first, I thought Sebastian's wand could possibly be aspen, but upon looking at the coloring of that wood versus yew, yew seems to be the closest in color. Aspen wood is often compared to bone because of how pale white it is, but if you look at the picture of Sebastian's wand, it has some warm undertones that make it a different hue than ivory.

Back to the personality. Here is what the Wizarding World website says about yew wood:

Yew wands are among the rarer kinds, and their ideal matches are likewise unusual, and occasionally notorious. The wand of yew is reputed to endow its possessor with the power of life and death, which might, of course, be said of all wands; and yet yew retains a particularly dark and fearsome reputation in the spheres of duelling and all curses. However, it is untrue to say (as those unlearned in wandlore often do) that those who use yew wands are more likely to be attracted to the Dark Arts than another. The witch or wizard best suited to a yew wand might equally prove a fierce protector of others. Wands hewn from these most long-lived trees have been found in the possession of heroes quite as often as of villains. Where wizards have been buried with wands of yew, the wand generally sprouts into a tree guarding the dead owner’s grave. What is certain, in my experience, is that the yew wand never chooses either a mediocre or a timid owner.

I'm not going to go into any heavy spoilers, but if you know, you know.

Sebastian is absolutely not a mediocre or timid wizard-- quite the opposite. He tends to lead with his heart rather his head, diving into battles before thinking through a strategy or jumping feet first into an argument before hearing both sides of the issue. He is fiercely loyal and protective of those he cares about, which can be seen in how he talks about not only Anne but also Ominis. His main motivation through the entirety of the game is finding a cure for his sister's curse, and he quite literally goes to outlandish means to achieve his goals. He is described as an accomplished duelist (we don't really see that, but let's chalk that up to the companion mechanics of the game and not his actual skill) and he is proficient in curses of all nature. He is the definition of a morally grey character-- not quite a hero, but also not quite a villain.

Again, for wand length and flexibility I will be using a mix of canon and fanon lore because of how scarce the information is on these sections of wandlore.

9 1/2 inches: As I said earlier with Ominis' wand, nine to ten inches is the common length for most wands. Since Ominis and Sebastian are, in fanon lore at least, similar in height (Ominis slightly taller than Sebastian in most fanfictions and fanart), I kept them close in length. Most agree that Sebastian is likely around 5'10", 5"11", so a wand slightly smaller than Ominis' but still within average length would fit best. Again, the half inch is just to be spicy.

Unyielding flexibility: Same as before, most of this information was taken from the wandlore weebly.

The word "unyielding" in itself describes Sebastian's personality. As previously stated, he is incredibly stubborn and hardheaded when he wants to be, and we see that often in the game.

The description for an unyielding wand is as follows:

A wand of this flexibility finely tunes itself to its original owner's preferences and doesn't stray from those preferences, even in the hands of a new owner; the new owner will just have to get used to it. It is particularly good for combative and healing magic. Unyielding wand owners tend to be very confident in themselves and/or in the things they believe in. They tend to be intelligent, somewhat cynical, and usually have well-defined principles that they will not stray from ever. Sometimes, this combination can lead to arrogance because of them insisting on how right they are without considering other points of view or whether or not they might be wrong.

Sebastian is a confident young man. He himself names him the best duelist in the school, and he prides himself on his knowledge of the wizarding world, both due to his proclivity to research and the fact that his parents were professors. In the game mechanics, particularly the bits that did not make it into the final game but were still in the code, there are a few lines for him that lean towards the possibility that he could heal the MC if our health got too low, thus adding the possibility that he was skilled in healing magic and combative magic. Sebastian's principles are defined from the very beginning of the game, stating that he would do anything for his friends and family, as well as was not afraid to break the rules to get what he wanted. He can be a bit arrogant at times due to this confidence, but for the most part it comes off as endearing.

As the game goes on he grows more cynical of the world and of the MC, often stating that they do not share the same opinions like he once thought and that they don't care about Anne and finding a cure for her curse. His tendency to not sway in his opinions and his insistence that he is right and everyone else is wrong grows tenfold around the winter mark. Because of this, no matter how many people are arguing that he is going down a dark path, he does not back down.

As both Ominis and Sebastian say, Sebastian Sallow does not back down from a fight, and he needs a wand that agrees with this belief system.

These are my headcaons! If you made it all the way to this bit, please don't be afraid to share your thoughts and personal headcanons for the boys and their wands!

Thanks for indulging me and my ramblings, lol

#tina speaks #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt headcanon #sebastian sallow headcanon #ominis headcanon #sebastian headcanon

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